The first thing Luke does after Vader leaves him alone is rush to the 'fresher and empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
The second thing he does is strip off his clothes and jump into the sonic shower.
He wants to feel clean, like how he felt before.
It doesn't take long for the sonic shower to strip him of fours days worth of grime, but he doesn't get out. He curls up into a ball in the corner of the shower. His cheek, hot from the angry tears that tracked down his face, rests against the cool tile wall.
He refuses to let more tears fall. Like everything else during wartime, tears are in limited supply. Certain emotions have to be compartmentalized for the sake of survival. But Luke has never been good at that. He feels things so strongly.
Uncle Owen used to say he got that from his father.
Luke slams his palm down on the floor of the shower, biting back a cry of frustration.
He's always admired his father. Before he even got Uncle Owen to give him his father's name, he admired him. When he thought he was only a navigator on a spice freighter, he admired him. When he thought he was a heroic Jedi Knight, he admired him.
Up until less than an hour ago, he admired him.
He used to dream about being just like his father, and now it's the thing he fears most.
How can that… that durasteel monstrosity possibly be Anakin Skywalker? How did a Jedi Knight fall so far? And most importantly… will Luke end up like that someday?
It's a fear that Luke has been trying to deny since the second Vader revealed his true identity. He fights for the Alliance, for the Jedi, for his friends; he's fighting for what's right in the galaxy. He could never be like Vader, with his complete disregard for sentient life.
But you're already like him, a traitorous voice whispers from the back of his head. You blew up the Death Star, remember? There were millions on that station. Including civilians.
He bites down on the inside his cheek to keep his tears at bay.
No matter how much he tries to tell himself that what he did was different from what Vader does, his heart doesn't quite believe it. His body count is potentially even higher than Vader's. Even if he didn't kill everyone on the Death Star individually, his actions still lead to their deaths. While their ashes were scattered throughout space, Luke was celebrating with his friends. That makes him a monster just like Vader, doesn't it?
No, he tells himself. I feel guilt. Vader doesn't. That makes us different.
Vader is a ruthless killing machine who murders without reason. Luke is just a soldier who was following orders. They're nothing alike. That's what he needs to tell himself.
But the seeds of doubt have already been planted in his mind, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to rip them out before they take root.
His hands go to his hair, pulling at it until he feels strands tearing out of his scalp.
Before today, he knew who he was. He was a rebel, a Jedi in training, a pilot; now he's not sure who he is, or what he might become.
Does being the son of a monster mean he's destined for the same fate?
He finally crawls out of the sonic shower, stumbling to his feet in front of the sink. The empty mirror frame stares back at him. He's relieved; if he still had a mirror, he would only be able to scrutinize his appearance and try to pick out features he may have gotten from his fa-… from Vader.
What does he look like under that mask? Luke wonders.
Of course, he's heard stories. One Imperial defector in the Alliance claims that the suit is a life-support system, and that he once caught a glimpse of the back of Vader's horribly scarred head when he was without his helmet. Others say that while the suit does breathe for him, he could look like any other human beneath the mask. And of course, some insist that he's not human at all, but Luke figures his existence rules that theory out.
If Vader were to take off his mask, would he have Luke's blond hair and blue eyes? Would he have his nose, his chin, his jaw? Would Luke be able to see himself in Vader's face?
Luke wrenches the knob on the sink to the side, gathering water into his cupped hands and splashing himself in the face. He needs to stop dwelling on this. Like he told Vader, this changes nothing.
So why does he feel like it changes everything?
He stumbles out of the 'fresher and throws himself onto his cot, bringing his knees up to his chest. The medic will be arriving soon, he thinks distantly. He should be up and ready for her, but the energy has been sapped from his body. All he wants is sleep.
He's just had one of the worst days of his life; the medic can wait a little while.
"If you know where that tape is and continue to keep it from me, you will find out just how expendable you really are, Lieutenant."
The Lieutenant's eyes bulge, his face turning blue. He scratches at his throat to fend off the invisible attacker, to no avail. Vader loosens his Force grip on the smaller man's throat just enough so he can speak.
"I-I… don't… kn..ow… any… thing," he chokes out. "Please…"
Vader stares down at him as he tightens his fist, simultaneously tightening the pressure on the man's throat. With a soft crack, he falls limply to the floor.
"I believe you," Vader says to the man's dead body.
He steps over the limp form, knowing that others will be quick to dispose of the body before it becomes too much of a nuisance. Death is a constant on Vader's flagship. It looms over all his subordinates, reminding them of the price for any incompetence.
The Lieutenant was an agent of the Emperor, but not one important enough to be missed. Vader will be able to explain away his death easily without arousing his Master's suspicion. But if he continues to tear through those on his ship loyal to the Emperor, his motives will not stay hidden for long.
Vader storms through the control center of the Executor, watching soldiers avert their eyes and shrink in their seats to avoid him. Other, more seasoned officers barely spare him or the body a second glance.
His time is running shorter by the second, and he still has no idea where the tape may have gone. He's gone through lists of who has clearance to the cell block, lists of people who departed the ship the day the tape went missing, lists that seemingly have no importance at all, every list he can get his hands on. Still, there's too many suspects to get through them all single-handedly.
As he nears the med bay, he feels a pull in his chest to go to his son. It's a strange feeling, one that Vader is unfamiliar with. He wants to be near the boy. Then when he's in the boy's presence, he sees vestiges of Padmé in him and immediately wants to flee. It's a vicious cycle that he doesn't know how to break. The boy stirs feelings him that are too similar to what Anakin Skywalker would feel. He must purge himself of that soon. The boy cannot be allowed to make him weak.
His son's distress leaks into the Force, bombarding their newly formed bond. Vader doubts that Luke knows they've cultivated a Force bond in these past few hours, when Luke finally acknowledged his parentage. He's too untrained to detect it.
That will change, but not today. The boy needs time to accept his new reality and stop being so obstinate. So Vader bypasses the med bay and makes his way to this meditation chamber.
Perhaps he will find the answers he seeks in the Force.
Piett's expression when he walks into the med bay with Luke's dinner is cautious, if not slightly concerned. He obviously remembers Luke's stricken expression and his abrupt dismissal from Vader earlier that day. He wordlessly hands the rations over to Luke and sits down opposite him. Luke sighs and fiddles with his spoon.
The shock and despair from earlier has faded into a numb acceptance. He has no energy to fight it anymore. The only thing he wants now is a good night's rest and to never have to see Vader ever again.
He doubts he'll get either.
The rations are as tasteless as ever, but they're harder to swallow than usual. His spoonful sits in his mouth like glue. Even after throwing up earlier in the day, his appetite is still nonexistent. He forces it down more for Piett's benefit than his own. There's no doubt in his mind that Vader would punish the Captain for Luke's own failure to eat.
Is that what he considers fatherly care?
If Captain Piett notices his discomfort, he doesn't comment on it. For that, Luke is grateful.
He pushes his spoon around some more, waiting for his stomach to settle down enough for another bite.
"Captain," he begins. "Do you have any children?"
Piett blinks at him, taken aback by the line of questioning.
"No, I never got around to it. Having a wife and children while in my line of work is… irresponsible, to say the least."
If only Vader had gotten that memo, Luke thinks bitterly.
"What about your parents?" Luke presses. "Do you have parents?"
Piett raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, I did," he answers. "Why the sudden interest in my personal life?"
Luke shrugs, trying to play it off.
"We're both stuck here together twice a day. I might as well make conversation, right?"
It's true enough. Conversations with Piett help pass the time and make Luke feel a little less like he's going insane. Who else is he supposed to talk to on this ship? Vader?
"So does your father work for the Empire too?"
Piett shakes his head.
"No, he was a merchant. I'm the only one in my family to have a military career."
Luke swears he heard a bit of pride in Piett's voice when he reveals he's the lone Imperial in his family.
"You refer to him in the past tense," he points out. "He's dead?"
Piett nods curtly, his expression unwavering. Luke wonders how he can be so unaffected. Even though Luke spent his entire life believing his father to be dead, it was still somewhat of a touchy subject for him. His heart always ached for the father he never knew.
He briefly wonders if he would react to his father's actual death with the same nonchalance that Piett does, now that he knows the truth.
"Did you two not get along?"
"Not particularly," Piett admits. "He wasn't a kind man."
It doesn't take a Force sensitive to sense the resentment dripping from Piett's tone, directed at his deceased father. It's a resentment Luke is all too familiar with now. Perhaps they aren't so different after all.
Though Luke doubts Piett's father was a homicidal half-machine like his father is.
"Have you ever heard the saying "the durang fruit doesn't fall far from the tree?"" he asks.
Piett nods.
"Do you believe that's true?" he continues. "That we're destined to become our parents?"
Piett's brow furrows, but he doesn't demand a reason for Luke's inquiry. That's one of the things Luke likes about him; he doesn't ask many questions. It must be a useful trait for moving up the ranks in the Empire and not getting killed in the process.
"I don't believe in destiny," he admits. "But I believe it's far too easy to follow in your parents' footsteps. You have to make a conscious effort not to. I decided I didn't want to become a subpar merchant and barely be able to scrape by like my father, so I did everything in my power to make sure that didn't happen. Now I'm a Captain, and he died in poverty."
A grin tugs on Luke's lips. Piett's answer was blunt and to the point, but it somehow managed to make him feel slightly better. His fear of becoming another Vader is still there, but it feels a little less glaring.
Piett gives him a pointed look that reminds him of the bowl of rations he's expected to eat. He takes another bite. This one goes down easier than the last, so he takes another one. All the while, Piett scrutinizes him.
"Skywalker. That's not a very common last name. You're Anakin Skywalker's son, aren't you?"
Luke chokes on his food.
"You knew him?" he whispers.
Piett scoffs.
"I was born in the days of the Old Republic. Everyone knew Anakin Skywalker."
Luke leans back in his seat, struggling to take it all in. He's met a few people who have claimed they knew his father personally during the Clone Wars, but he never heard anything about his father being famous at the time.
"What was he known for?"
Piett hesitates, as though even speaking of the Old Republic is traitorous. Luke knows the Empire tries to stifle any information of a time before its reign. All he was told about the Old Republic in school was how corrupt it was, how it tore itself apart with war, and how then-Chancellor Palpatine valiantly stepped up as the first Galactic Emperor to save the galaxy. All useless propaganda.
"He was a General in the Clone Wars, and a Jedi," Piett answers slowly. "They called him the Hero With No Fear. He was the poster boy for the Jedi Order itself, before its downfall."
If only people knew Darth Vader was once part of the Jedi they hate, Luke thinks bitterly.
"It's curious," Piett muses, mostly to himself. "From what I remember, the Jedi weren't allowed to have spouses or children."
Luke furrows his brow. That's not a rule he remembers hearing about. It seems like a cruel thing to ban love. Surely Captain Piett is mistaken. Because if he's telling the truth, then that means Luke's very existence is a violation of the rules of the Jedi.
He shovels more food in his mouth to keep from having to say anything back.
"If you're thinking of following in your father's footsteps, I would advise against it," Piett warns. "The Jedi were executed in the Purges after they attempted to kill the Emperor. They're enemies of the Empire."
Luke raises an eyebrow.
"Are you forgetting that I'm already an enemy of the Empire?" he teases.
A ghost of a grin passes over Piett's face.
"Sometimes, I believe I do."
Luke snorts and takes another bite of his food.
He may already be a rebel, but he's no Jedi. Now he's not sure he even wants to be. How great and heroic can the Jedi be if their supposed poster boy became Vader?
Oh Ben, why couldn't you just tell me the truth?
"Don't worry, Captain. I have no plans to be like my father."
He takes one last bite of his food and then pushes the bowl away.
"Finished."
