2 days later
The Executor
Conference Room #3
Vader was in the middle of a thoroughly dull command meeting when his son's Force sense went from irritable boredom, to interest, to uneasiness, to stark horror in the space of 60 minutes.
The horror provoked him to cut short the meeting and rush to his son's carefully secured living quarters.
The troopers protecting and guarding the boy were in place and he sensed no one else in the room with Luke, so the child was safe enough.
Vader strode through the door and stopped. Luke was sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped around his legs, his face on his knees, sobbing.
Now that he was closer, Vader could pick up the thoughts roiling around in his son's mind.
"It's true. It is. It's true. He's my father. This is horrible. Horrible. I want to die …"
And so on.
Vader stared silently at the youth for a long moment and sat down on a nearby chair. In one way, it was an enormous relief that Luke had finally accepted the truth. On the other hand, the sheer level of despair was more than a little discouraging.
Since Luke did not seem interested in interacting, Vader looked around to try and see what had provoked his son's sudden revelation.
The holoterminal was on, Vader realized. He tilted his head in sudden interest; on the screen was a holovid about Luke's mother, Padme Naberrie Amidala. (She was also a Skywalker – but very few in the galaxy knew of her marriage to Anakin Skywalker.) These vids were carefully repressed across the star systems, but Vader had collected every possible image of his beloved wife to torture himself at appropriate intervals.
This particular vid, he noted, was the documentary that had been composed after Padme had died. She had been a much loved figure on Naboo, and an adoring photojournalist had collected many public and even some private holos of Padme and put them together in a reverent holodocu. Palpatine had discovered the holovid 2 months later and had attempted to destroy all copies and source material. The journalist himself had disappeared too, though Vader had investigated sufficiently to believe the man might have made a successful run for it.
Vader had managed to secretly save a copy of the memorial documentary. He had chosen to send a copy of the copy to Luke this morning. While his son had refused to believe that Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one and the same, there was no reason Luke wouldn't be interested in the woman whom the med droid had said was his mother. Obviously Luke had watched at least this vid, and somehow decided Vader was telling the truth.
The sound was off, and he watched it uncomfortably as Luke continued to huddle miserably on the floor.
Padme had been so beautiful, so strong, so noble, so good. He had not deserved her. (Of course he hadn't. What kind of husband choked his own beloved wife?)
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. There was an image of Anakin Skywalker now, walking at the side of the then Chancellor Palpatine at some tedious political event. Padme approached, and for a surprising two minutes, the three soundlessly interacted. Vader didn't remember what was going on at this point in the vid. Maybe the narrator was expounding at length? There were, he recalled now, quite a few images of his former self in the documentary because he had been Padme's bodyguard for some time.
He turned back to Luke, with a sigh.
The child was now sitting cross legged, gazing blankly at the screen, his eyes dull with misery.
"So you have accepted the truth," Vader finally said.
"You walk the same," the youth said in a numb tone, even as he lifted his hand which held a controller. The vid moved back and again Anakin Skywalker and Chancellor Palpatine walked down a long aisle.
"Your stride has changed a little because of the prosthetics but the movement is the same. And the way you move your head is so distinctive. And your parade rest position is identical. Whenever you enter a room you do a quick check to the right, then to the left. And there are 6 more obvious characteristics that you and … Anakin Skywalker share. It's awful. This is horrible. You really are my father …"
The boy lowered his head and lifted his hands to his face, his narrow shoulders heaving as he sobbed in despair.
Vader felt the scar tissue in his forehead crease in incredulity. He'd offered Luke DNA tests and historical documents and Tatooine cuisine and the boy was convinced because of the way he walked?
Vader sighed and turned to stare at the vid carefully. He didn't see what Luke saw. But if Luke had accepted the truth based on obscure mannerisms, then he would accept it thankfully and move on. Now that the boy knew that they were father and son, surely he could be convinced to fall in with the Dark Lord's plans.
He rose to his feet and stepped over to his son.
"Luke, stand up," he ordered firmly, holding out his hand.
The boy looked mutinous for a moment, but then scrambled to his feet even as he firmly refused to take his father's helping prosthetic.
Vader reached out a gentle hand and tilted his son's chin up, forcing the youth to gaze into his eyes.
"Son," the Dark Lord rumbled softly, "You are strong in the Force, and have not yet begun to discover your power. I will train you in the Dark Ways, and with our combined strength we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy. I will teach …"
He stopped, as Luke had stepped back from him, his eyes flashing, his head shaking negatively.
"I will never join you, Vader," the boy said, clearly enraged, "Do you imagine that my acceptance of our biological relationship changes anything?"
There was a pause, and then Luke's face shifted from angry to downcast, "I mean, it does matter. A lot. Of course it does. I'm not the son of a noble Jedi Knight. I'm Sith spawn, son of a murderer and torturer. I'm … my whole life is a lie. I can't believe it. But …"
And now the defiance was back, "But I will never join you, or the Empire. The Imperial government has been directly responsible for the deaths of countless innocents, and the slavery of many more. This government is brutal and despotic and cruel, and you are its chief enforcer! I may be your son, but I will not work with you, I will not learn from you, and I will not be your apprentice, student, or slave."
Vader's hands clenched at Luke's reckless reference to slavery, but he forced himself to remain calm with some difficulty. Naturally, the child would be a naïve idealist.
"You are young, my son," he replied patiently, "You do not yet realize that in order to maintain order and peace, there are inevitable casualties. The Empire has been required to make difficult choices with some loss of non-combatant life in order to pursue an era of serenity undreamed of during the chaotic latter years of the Republic and the Clone Wars."
Luke moved forward again, those blue eyes boring into his own, "You know what? I realize I'm just an uneducated farmboy from an Outer Rim desert planet, but I don't have to be a philosopher, or a genius, or a brilliant politician like my mother to know that a good government doesn't wantonly blow up a planet with 6 billion innocent people on it."
Vader considered even as he sighed. He knew Luke had rescued Princess Leia from the Death Star. She was a beautiful young woman, and a charismatic one. (She was actually rather like Padme, truth be told.) Naturally, the boy would be passionately opposed to the destruction of Alderaan.
"The royal family of Alderaan plotted against the Empire, my son. There are regrettably times when the treasonous actions of leaders result in negative consequences for their subjects."
His son's eyes grew hot with fury. On one hand, the powerful anger emanating from Luke excited the Dark Side within Vader. On the other hand, he was not sure he could train one so unused to the Force if Luke wasn't at least somewhat willing to work with him.
Abruptly, the boy's anger faded away, to be replaced by sadness.
Luke turned and strode to the transparisteel window, staring out into hyperspace, "You know what I was doing during the last 19 years, while you flew the galactic starways and climbed the ladder of Imperial power and gathered riches and honor and glory and destroyed the Jedi and laid waste to cities?"
He turned back to look at Vader, "I was living in a moisture farm on Tatooine, fixing malfunctioning moisture evaporators and living with poverty, occasional hunger, frequent thirst, and the constant fear of raids by Tuskens."
Rage filled Vader's soul. That his son had been forced to grow up on that accursed planet …
"That was Kenobi's doing," he said angrily, "He took you, he kidnapped you. You should have been raised at my side, with all the blessings of honor and wealth and privilege."
Luke didn't even seem to hear him, "And you know who was with me during those years? Owen and Beru Lars. They took me in. They must have known Anakin Skywalker was a Jedi, and yet they risked their lives by taking in his infant child. They sacrificed and nurtured and protected and guided me. They sometimes went hungry during the hard years so that I would have what I needed."
Luke marched back towards Vader now, his face hard, "And 5 months ago, a group of scavenger Jawas sold my uncle 2 droids, one of which had the Death Star plans. We didn't know that, of course. And the next day, while I was away with the droids, stormtroopers broke into our home and interrogated and slaughtered my aunt and uncle and burned down the farm. I came home to find their smoking corpses outside the ruins of the only home I had ever known."
He stepped closer still, "So you talk to me about regrettable loss of non-combatant life and I think of Owen and Beru Lars, honest, hardworking, moisture farmers. They didn't do anything wrong, and the men under your command murdered them for no reason. They were the only family I ever had. So you just go ahead and try to justify your brutal and callous disdain of innocent civilians, Father. I will die before I join you and turn to the Dark Side."
Luke shot him one last look of loathing and then turned on his heel, storming toward the bedroom.
Vader's reservoir of patience, which had been running low the last few exasperating days, completely ran out. A sudden surge of rage filled him, and he extended one hand and grabbed Luke's torso with the Force, turning him around and dragging him within physical reach of his own prosthetic arms. At the same time, he applied Force pressure to the boy's windpipe.
Luke's hands automatically went to his throat as he struggled for breath.
Vader released the hold after 25 seconds. Luke gasped for air even as the Dark Lord reached out his hand and grabbed his son's chin, forcing it upward toward him.
"Your disrespect for me is not acceptable, my son," he snarled softly, "And the sooner you realize that, the better it will be for you."
Luke panted for another minute, even as those blue eyes blazed with determination.
When the youth had his breathing under control, he twisted his head away from his father's grip.
"Let's get one thing straight," the youth stated coldly, "I do not respect you, Father, and I never will. I'm afraid of you, yes. I'm in awe at your power in the Force. I'm aware that you have capabilities beyond anything I have ever dreamed of. But I do not respect you."
He took a step back, and Vader allowed him too, the rising anger in his own heart mitigated by a surprising stab of pain at the rejection inherent in his son's words.
Luke turned his head now to look at the holovid, which was currently showing Padme Amidala at a podium, her hands stretched out, her beautiful face passionate, her mouth moving silently.
The boy continued more softly, "If even a tenth of the details in this holodoc are true, then I do respect Padme Naberrie. A great deal. And I assume she willingly slept with you, and willingly bore your child …"
"We were married," Vader interrupted angrily. The intimation of some sordid relationship was disgusting.
Wonder crossed Luke's face, before his expression settled grimly, "Then Anakin Skywalker must have been quite a man as well, if she married him. So I would even say I respect him. But you? You were born with the Force sensitivity of the ages, served for a time as a Jedi, a powerful warrior and noble protector of the people. And then you threw it all away, abandoned your wife and child, and pursued personal power as a vital and brutal player in the destruction of the Galactic Republic. Now you are a torturer, enslaver, and murderer, working as the cruel right hand of a most vicious and despotic Emperor. There is nothing to respect about that."
Luke lifted a hand and caressed his neck, where red marks showed the location of Vader's brief Force choke, "Now if you aren't going to kill me right now, I'd appreciate your permission to retire to my room."
Vader's gaze lingered on his son's throat.
"Go," he said quietly, turning away.
Luke walked quickly into his bedroom and the door slid closed behind him.
Vader hesitated, then reluctantly reached out through the Force. Luke had maintained rigid control until he was out of sight of the Dark Lord, but Vader now sensed that his son had thrown himself on his bed, his desolate grief reverberating through the Force like a tidal wave.
The Dark Lord stood silently for a long moment and his head slumped, his gaze drifting to the floor.
Rage and shame battled in his heart, before shame gained the upper hand. Self-loathing threatened to overwhelm him. In spite of his determination to be patient with his son, he had lashed out in anger at Luke at the first possible opportunity.
Well, not the first opportunity. The boy had been completely infuriating since he'd come on board. But nevertheless, after all of Vader's protestations that he would not harm Luke, he had given into rage and had indeed attacked the child.
As he had attacked the boy's mother.
There had been, briefly, an expression in the youth's face that mirrored that of Padme's as she struggled for breath as he choked her on Mustafar.
What was he going to do now? Luke was stubborn, he knew that. Like Padme. His loathing toward the Empire was deep seated and enduring.
And could Vader truly blame the boy? He had lost his own mother to Tuskens, and carried an eternal hatred for the Raiders ever since. Luke's hatred towards the Imperial regime which had destroyed his adoptive family was entirely reasonable.
And yet, he couldn't just keep Luke locked up and 'enjoy' his company for much longer without Sidious finding out about his son. And once he did, Palpatine would order Vader to bring Luke before him, and all would be lost, one way or another. The most likely scenario was that the Emperor would kill the child or, Vader thought with a shudder, order him to do the dreadful deed. And if Luke was spared, it would be only to be broken into either a Hand or an Apprentice. If the latter, than father and son would face one another in battle and the winner would take his place at Palpatine's side.
He shook his head. What was he going to do? How could he protect Luke when the boy refused to learn from him, refused to be trained in the Dark Ways? Luke was so vulnerable now.
An image caught the corner of his vision. He lifted his head and took a breath out of sync with his normal respiration.
The documentary had ended, and the credits were rolling on one side of the screen. The other side showed a picture of Padme, her beautiful face solemn, her eyes seemingly gazing directly into his own.
How often he had seen that expression on her face, one of love but also challenge. She had been 5 years older, and the wiser partner in their marriage. Once, twice, ten times, a hundred times, she had bathed him with that look, pulling him away from some frankly stupid decision.
For the thousandth, no – millionth time – he felt the agonizing ache of her loss. He needed her, needed her wisdom, her love, her insight. She would have known what to do with their stubborn son.
Her last words echoed in his ears again, "Come away with me. Help me raise our child, leave everything else behind while we still can."
He bowed his head again, suddenly fearful of the solemn gaze of his dead wife.
Come away with me.
Come away …
Come away.
He bit his inner cheek, ignoring the pain.
It was a foolish idea. It would never work. Palpatine would hunt them down.
But Vader had made plans in case he ever needed to disappear.
And there was no more critical time than the present.
He nodded and strode toward the exit.
He knew what he was going to do.