Chapter Eight

Anakin suddenly found that he felt nervous around Luke. He hadn't quite absorbed the news that he had a son, not just yet. His mind was still reeling, he felt almost light-headed as they walked through the corridors together. The older Skywalker found himself unconsciously searching for similarities between them; hair, eye colour, the jaw line...however Luke's overall facial structure reminded him much more of Padme.

Luke hadn't said a word since they'd left the hangar bay; he could feel a jumble of barely contained feelings radiating from his Father; they were to erratic for him to even begin to understand what Anakin was feeling. He could sympathise though, for he felt exactly the same.

The two Skywalker's found themselves seated opposite each other, yet neither one of them touched their food. Clearing his throat, Anakin opened his mouth before sheepishly closing it, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You said there were things you couldn't tell me about the future...so I'll respect that. One question I have, however, is why were you brought up on Tatooine? I would never...I would never have allowed that." Anakin's piercing gaze didn't once leave Luke's face as he waited for an answer.

Luke huffed angrily, averting his eyes from his Father's face. "I can't...it's complicated." He settled on saying, hoping to convey that he couldn't even possibly begin to explain the situation.

Anakin reclined back, a sudden feeling of apprehension settling in his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that...maybe he wasn't around when Luke was growing up. From the way the boy talked, it seemed he had been absent. Suddenly desperate to know, he leaned forwards and caught Luke's sleeve with his hand.

"Are we happy? Do we...do we have a good relationship?" Anakin asked, heart pounding. His worst fears were confirmed when Luke swallowed somewhat uneasily, eyes sliding to the floor in discomfort.

"There's a civil war in my time period...and our views...they differ on...certain things you could say, but...you care for me." I think. He added silently in his head. Vader wanted him to join him...he searched for him relentlessly, and it seemed like he had some guilt at least for cutting off his hand. Luke massaged his temple; this is why he didn't like thinking about Vader—the man sent out too many mixed signals.

Anakin glared his plate, a sudden anger overcoming him. He would never abandon his own child over a difference in opinion!

"Luke, I would never...over a mere difference in opinion—I wouldn't do that to you...or any child of mine! The very idea is inconceivable—" Anakin choked out, overcome with emotions that were foreign to him.

The familiar sting of tears prickled behind Luke's eyes. Blinking hard, he desperately tried not cry. To have Anakin say that to him and mean ever word behind it...Luke's resolve hardened. He would change the future; Anakin didn't deserve his fate, Luke would make sure that there would be no Darth Vader twenty years from now.

Clenching his jaw, he quickly excused himself and fled from the canteen, leaving his confused and somewhat hurt Father behind.


"I believe that I have allowed things to go on for too long. Luke Skywalker must be neutralised at once. I trust that the task won't pose a problem for you?" Sideous watched as the cloaked figure chuckled humourlessly.

"It won't be a problem." He said blankly, face obscured by the heavy shadow that his hood cast on his face.

Sideous sighed inaudibly in annoyance. "None of that toying around with victims that you're so fond of. He is to be killed quickly and swiftly, understood?" the assassin regarded the Chancellor impassively before inclining his head in understanding.

"I will return with news of his death." With those departing words, he swiftly left Palpatine's office, his dark green cloak swishing behind him silently.

The Chancellor returned to gazing out at the panoramic view his office offered, watching in disgust as the inhabitants of Coruscant went about their mundane lives. Fools...oblivious to the grander scheme of things; content with their worthless, meaningless existence. The Force reacted swiftly, coiling around him in dark tendrils of hate. He let the Dark side wash over him, heightening his senses for a moment.

Coren Staven was a reliable man; he'd been in the assassination business for seventeen years and had started at the tender age of just fifteen, quickly becoming renowned throughout the Galaxy for his...ruthless methods. Somewhere along the way however, he had developed a penchant for torture.

Not that Sideous cared, however. He had made use of Coren's services before; sometimes the man kept his targets for an extra day or two, depending on how much they screamed...but he had always come back with results; mainly, that they were dead. He didn't want that now though. There was too much at risk with Luke around, medlling in affairs that had nothing to do with him.

Palpatine had briefly considered trying to mould him to his image...he could sense that Anakin's son was powerful. He was so ensconced in the Light side of the Force...goose bumps arose on the Chancellor's arms from the mere thought of it. Any efforts to seduce him to the Dark side would be a waste of his time.

Gracefully sitting down, he mulled over the implications of Luke's death; Anakin would be distraught, especially since he had only just learnt that the boy was his son, leaving him susceptible to the Dark side. Palpatine grinned to himself—he found the perfect way to speed up the Chosen One's inevitable downfall.

Now all he had to do was sit back and wait.


Luke wandered the streets of Coruscant aimlessly; he had never really had a chance to fully soak in the sights and sounds that the bustling ecumenopolis had to offer. It was a blaze of sparkling lights and colours—Luke could only imagine what it would look like when visited at night.

One trillion people...Luke marvelled at how that many people all managed to co-exist on one planet. Compared to Tatooine's pathetic two hundred thousand residents...he suddenly felt rather insignificant.

He didn't know why Anakin's words had affected him. As he had hurried out of the Jedi Temple, he had finally broke down and couldn't help but cry. Perhaps it was because that was how he had always imagined his Father? Before Vader came and destroyed every single dream he'd ever had.

"You lost kid?" Luke turned around, mildly annoyed that everyone referred to him as kid. A man stood to his right, leaning casually against a building. He was covered from head to foot, everything hidden apart from his eyes, which were an unnerving shade of grey. The Force immediately told Luke that he needed to be weary, that he shouldn't trust this man...

"I'm fine, just enjoying the sights." He replied shortly. He was surprised when the man fell into step beside him, matching his pace exactly.

"Tourist then huh? You're not from around here, your accent is pure Outer Rim." Feeling self conscious, Luke's face and neck turned pink from embarrassment.

"I'm from Tatooine." He gave as an answer, anxious to know why this man seemed so interested in him. A short, hollow laugh burst from the man's throat.

"Must be quite a change, all this." He stated, gesturing grandly at the towering skyscrapers that surrounded them. Luke hummed in agreement, finally starting to feel a bit more at ease with the man. He wasn't stupid though; he still kept his guard up; his mental shields were still tightly in place.

The stream of people subtly increased the closer they got to the busy central district of the area. Luke soon found himself being jostled around very roughly by the hoards of busy people. It didn't help that he was on the short side and of a very slender build. The man beside him however, had no problem in weaving his way through the throng, not once seemingly ruffled.

"I know a good bar, if you're interested. Get out of this insane crowd." Luke nodded gratefully, glaring as someone stood painfully hard on his foot. Veering off to the side, Luke hastily followed as the man ducked into a modestly decorated bar.

It stood out from the other shops which were shining with lights and noises to attract people's attention. This place, Luke noted, was minimalist in its style—he liked it.

"Ah, the usual?" the man behind the counter asked. He was a thin, balding man in his late forties, with greying hair and a nicely trimmed beard.

"Of course. This young man's from the Outer Rim, so I felt that I had to show him your place—to prove that not all of Coruscant's shops were terrible." The dead undertone that Luke could hear in the man's voice unnerved him somewhat—he sounded monotone even when he tried not to.

Luke fingered the glass that was offered to him, the bright luminous orange liquid sloshed around lazily in response.

"I don't have any money on me—"

"I'll pay, my treat." The cloaked man slapped more than a few credits on the counter top, which the bartender immediately took. He lowered the cloth that covered the lower half of his face, revealing a face that was rough and covered in stubble.

Luke watched as he downed his drink in one gulp, and hastened to do the same. He coughed, his throat stinging from the acidic tasting drink. His vision swam, and for a few precarious moments he wobbled as he uncertainly stood up. Feeling betrayed, Luke struggled to roll his eyes towards the mysterious man before he collapsed none too gently to the floor.

"What'd that poor bastard do then?" the bartender, Lee, asked curiously.

"Interfering in plans that don't concern him," Coren replied emotionlessly, his eyes never once leaving the young man's form, "I think he'll be a screamer." Looking up, he grinned disarmingly at Lee who recoiled slightly, before he slung Luke over his shoulder and disappeared out the back door.

Lee felt a moment of guilt as he heard the door close. An accomplice to an assassin...but the money was too good for him to stop. The bar was struggling as it was, but with Coren's credits he could keep it open and comfortably survive; if it took serving drinks laced with a powerful knock out drug to simply live then so be it.

He just hoped the young man wouldn't suffer toomuch.