PART VII

Many of his personal belongings had been transferred with Luke, and Vader mused over the few and sundry things the boy had brought with him as he waited for his son to wake. Luke had slid back into unconsciousness after his first conversation with his father. Vader had no answer to his son's question of ' and what now?'. He'd left the boy to himself with the excuse of letting him settle in, but he was unable to leave his son's side. He realized this with no small measure of chagrin as he'd made his way back to Luke's quarters several hours later. So, here he stood now, guarding his son even in sleep. He turned his attention to the alterations Luke had made to his room.

Luke was not in possession of many things, and it was obvious that the few that had accompanied him were of the utmost importance. A medal awarded to him after the Battle of Yavin, his lightsabre, a tattered cloak the colour of sand he'd brought with him from Tatooine. There were a few holos of his friends from the Alliance…members of his X-wing squadron, that annoying pirate Solo, the Wookie, the Princess Organa. Perhaps the most shocking thing to Vader was the carved Japor snippet on a Nerf gut string. Memories flooded back to him then, of her, his wife, his love. Padme. This boy's mother. He knew that she'd been buried on Naboo with the Japor snippet necklace he'd given her. Vader had seen enough of it on the HoloNet to know that. There'd been enormous speculation as to the meaning of the necklace, who'd given it to her, why she was being buried with it, and most importantly, just who the father of her unborn child was.

What he hadn't remembered until that very moment, however, was the fact that he'd carved another for her on the way to Tattooine. Padme had thought she lost the necklace, and, in an attempt to keep his mind off her and occupied on something more Jedi appropriate, he'd made another for her. She'd found the first one, of course, the moment he'd strung the second. Then his mother had died in his arms and he forgot about the Japor necklace, about Padme, about anything other than his own black rage. Beru must have found it, kept it, and given it to Luke. What had she told him? He was well aware of Luke's burning desire for knowledge of his mother, of their past together….but these were things he was unable to tell him. He could not maintain his black composure and self-professed devotion to the Dark Side by recalling happy memories of his past. Luke would have to learn to live with disappointment. This was going to be a battle of the wills, he was certain…..what now, indeed.

Again his son woke slowly, and knew immediately his father was with him. Luke pretended, for a moment, that he was 8 years old again, waking in the morning to find his beloved father there, waiting for him. They were going to go after wamp rats, and his father had been up early to prepare everything for their trip….he basked in the warm glow that invented and yearned for memory gave him. It would have to give him strength to face his reality.

"Are you always going to be there when I wake?" Luke asked with slight humour, but it was a loaded question, and the Dark Lord realized it as such.

He countered with his own. "How did you come to possess this?" Vader asked, holding up the necklace.

Luke turned to look at his father, sitting up slowly, tired. Seeing the object his father held, he laughed slightly and said wryly, "Perhaps you should tell me."

Vader contemplated his son a moment….stubborn, to a fault. That was Amidala. It was aggravating and yet exhilarating. This boy held so much of his mother in him. He would concede a little. "I made this for your mother. She lost it on Tattooine." There, that was all he would offer.

Luke smiled wearily, "And that is where I obtained it. Aunt Beru gave it to me. She said something about you carving it, making it for mother. It was the only thing all these years that I had that was a part of both of you," he paused, his emotions threatening to break through. "I've always carried it with me. I thought it appropriate….the Japor Ivory wood, representing rarity and strength…and the symbols of love and hope carved into it. It represented you, to a larger extent." He paused, glancing at his father. "Or at least what I believed of you."

Stalemate again. Neither willing to give ground, they remained in a quasi-comfortable silence. Vader could feel Luke searching him out, trying to reach for some good in him, tempting him with his innocence and playing his father with his miserable childhood memories. Vader would try a different tactic.

" I have left you a far greater legacy than being the son of a simple spice freighter pilot who had hope…a more magnificent legacy than being the child of a moisture farmer who had love." The words hope and love felt like ash in his mouth, so long had it been that he had spoken them. He reduced them to mockeries of their own meaning with his tone. And in that feeling, a remembrance came to him. A vision of himself on Mustafar, burning….practically turning to ash himself. That was where hope and love had left him. He remembered, and wondered how he ever could have forgotten it. It spurred him to step toward Luke, fist clenched with the power of the darkness which spread over him now like the black cloak which enveloped him. "You stand to inherit the entire universe, Luke. From the Core Regions to the Outer Rim Territories…they are all waiting to bow before you. Can you feel the power? Does it not whisper to you?" The Dark Lord leaned in toward Luke now, luring him with the power of his voice. " You are the heir to the Empire, my son. Give in to the Darkness….it can save you."

His father told him then, of Jolon Bae'din. Of how the Emperor had tested his disease on the man, the disease with no cure. Vader spoke of how Palpatine had goaded Bae'din, tempted him with the Dark Side. He had been a good man, in service to the Empire, when his Force-gift had been discovered. Palpatine had tried to turn him, but Bae'din had thought solely of his family...a wife and a daughter. But they tempted him, and, when that had no effect...they threatened him. Only when Jolon had fully immersed himself in the power of his hatred, had the Dark energy destroyed the virus….just as the Emperor had known it would. It was the only way to overcome it.

"And where is this Bae'din now?" Luke asked skeptically.

Vader remained unmoving. "Palpatine killed him. Only two there are, the Master and the Apprentice. We had no need for a third." He moved closer to Luke, voice even. "That is why the Emperor is uneasy with your presence, Luke. He is afraid of exactly what I offered to you. To rule the galaxy together, we would need to dispose of him." Another step closer, like a stalking jungle cat. "Use your anger, Luke. Give in to the darkness and save yourself."

Standing from the bed, Luke went to the window. He watched the galaxy pass by him, and tried to imagine just what it may feel like, to hold that much power. To own the status of the be-all and end-all for thousands of star systems. He swirled the thought around in his mind, turned it over, pondered it. It was not the first time he'd entertained it. He didn't spend much time with it , not as he had before. Now, he'd worn the idea down smooth and flat, like a stone in a river. It didn't disturb the waters of his mind like it had at first. He'd made peace with it, let his Force-self ebb and flow around it. He would not let it dictate the direction of his life.

"I have no wish to be some kind of Dark Sith Prince," he countered to his father. He clasped his hands behind his back, belying a sense of calm that he did not fully have. Sighing deeply, he turned back to face Vader. "And if that is the only way to save myself….I regret I must decline. I will not free myself of this disease only to enslave millions of innocent lives as a tyrannical despot. Yours is a legacy I am ashamed of. I will not be heir to autocracy…..I'd rather die."

Luke let out another soul-weary sigh as he attempted to control the feelings which threatened to escape him now. He closed his blue eyes for a moment and centered himself in the Force. Opening his eyes, he took a step closer to his Father, causing Vader to meet his steady gaze. "I will not fight you, Father," he said to the Dark Lord softly. "I did not come here to attempt to win some kind of battle of the wills. I will not turn, and I will not try to turn you." He rubbed a weary hand against his forehead.

"What are you here for?" Vader asked, frustrated at the boy's resistance. The tension roiled off him like ripples in a lake.

Luke gave a small, ironic laugh. "I had though I had made that clear. I….I just want to be with you….for whatever time I have left. No pretense, no corruption, no fighting."

Luke wondered, not for the first time, if it was going to always be this way. One step forward, two back...on and on like some kind of twisted Chandrilian waltz. He could hear the music...could his father? Who would break step first? Wasn't it enough for his father simply to have him here...why could he not give him the answers he wanted? 'Stop' he told himself, 'stop or you will exhaust yourself...and you'll only lose more time.'

His father seemed to sense this as well, and let his frustration go...calm waters again. "In that case," Vader's voice broke the silence, "would you care to join me on the bridge?"

Luke merely nodded his assent, and they left his quarters together, side by side, Light and Darkness, hope and despair...and strode toward destiny.