Equally Cursed and Blessed

by Mina

10./

It was most unusual for Darth Vader to show so much interest in a prisoner - except in their interrogation, of course. It was almost unheard of for him to follow the progress of an injured captive through medical treatment. And it was definitely a first when the Dark Lord stayed in the patient's room, waiting for them to wake up. It made the medics exceptionally nervous.

It was possible that the man was trying to assist in healing the battered boy he had brought with him. It was also possible that the boy was considered so dangerous that the Dark Lord trusted no one else to guard him. This was what Vader told himself, at least - that Luke could be unpredictable enough to get through his guards, and Vader's presence was therefore required.

And it was partly true. By some miracle, Luke might just have made it past his guards. But... could he really make it past his guards and a city-sized ship of their companions? And he could only attempt that unlikely escape once he had freed himself from the medical bay - which was improbable in itself, with his body pumped full of sedative and floating inside a bacta tank.

Somehow, it seemed unlikely.

But Vader didn't dwell on it, he simply felt the urge to stay. And so he did.

He wasn't needed on the bridge. The planet-side clean up had been completed and Vader had commanded the ship to Aljir - the planet where Rebel infiltrators had been spotted a little too close to Endor for comfort. The operation on Tallir had been dealt with swiftly, and Palpatine need never know that Executor had made an impromptu stopover to collect Vader's son.

His son.

That designation was still an alien one - still held a small amount of wonder for Vader.

He looked up to where the boy floated in the bacta tank. Luke looked... vulnerable, which was not something Vader had expected to see in the boy, and it brought a surge of something protective to life in Vader.

He had come closer than he wished to forever losing the boy these last few days - and the human emotions that followed on the heel of that realisation were at once unwelcome and undeniable. And unhelpful, Vader thought darkly, for although the boy was with him now, it was only in body and not in spirit.

Luke had not taken to the bacta tank easily, clawing at the mask and the plastisteel sides when they lowered him in. Snippets of memories or dreams had pelted Vader's own mind as he attempted to help the medics in persuading their recalcitrant patient to accept treatment - memories of snow, and blood, and blackness.

But that had passed, and now Luke's mind was quiet as his body accepted the treatment. In the sickly orange light of the tank, Luke's injuries of the past week could be seen as deep white pinpricks and startlingly black bruises. His son would probably need at least another day in the tank.

And that would be another day lost, Vader acknowledged. Another day lost - and when they were so short of time.

How long before Palpatine's people reported back to him that the Rebel he hunted was missing?

How long before Palpatine grew suspicious of Vader's feelings on the matter of his son, and decided his one-time apprentice was becoming too independent for his own good?

Not long, Vader thought, because if the Emperor was anything, he was astute.

So little time... and I cannot defeat him alone. Vader took a moment to watch the impassive face of his son. But together... together we could...

It was clear, if only from Luke's determination to accept interrogation over collaboration with Vader, that the boy would not work with him willingly. And Vader faced a dilemma: he had no time to slowly persuade the boy that their ways were not so different, and yet no inclination to use brute force to bring the boy to his side. A solution to this quandary eluded him, and that in itself was reason enough to feel frustrated.

Until a solution presented itself, Vader intended to busy himself with the security recordings he had taken from the detention block. It was at least in part an impulse based upon a wild chance that something in them would offer him a solution to his problem. But he was also following his desire to know how his son had gotten himself into such a predicament.

He turned the holoscreen on and scrolled to the footage they had retrieved.

For a while, nothing happened. Then a groups of men dressed in black shock-suits spilled into the room and busied themselves with the control panels, with blockading themselves in.

An explosion rocked the camera into static and when the feed came back, there was a battle going on.

Vader watched impassively as the Rebels backed away from the consoles retreating to the door. One of the dark-clad men was trapped on the wrong side of the line. He was shot, a glancing blow. His companions were pushed back and out of the room. The battle obviously continued in the corridors whilst the smoke began to clear in the control room.

Vader watched Darasbt step through the door a few minutes later. The stormtroopers dragged the shot Rebel towards him, giving Vader a clear look at the man's face.

It wasn't Luke.

The governor grabbed the man by the jaw and tilted his face upwards. He shook his head, asking him questions. Evidently the man wasn't talking enough because Darasbt took a rifle from the nearest trooper and shot the man cleanly through the head. The Rebel slumped to the ground, dead.

With no sound accompanying the footage, Vader couldn't tell what the conversation that followed entailed, but the man was dragged behind a far console, leaving a bloody stain on the grey floor. One of the troopers fiddled with the controls and at the edge of the pickup, the viewscreen showed a small view identical to the one seen through this camera, tunnelling into the distance as the image was repeated again and again in each screen.

Vader frowned, but the purpose of the move was soon revealed when a trooper transferred the feed to a handheld sensor, allowing them to monitor the inside of the room remotely. Clearly it was a crude trap designed to capture any Rebels that came back for their friend.

Vader shifted his attention briefly back to the bacta tank, to Luke's sleeping presence. The Dark Lord thought he knew exactly who had fallen into that trap and wasn't disappointed when turned back to the screen in time to see Luke appear in the video footage, creeping into the room with a blaster held ready. And wasn't it just like the boy to be unable to leave others in danger despite the risk to himself? Hadn't Vader capitalised on that loyalty himself, on Bespin?

Luke held the blaster in both hands and out to one side, moving slowly across the room as if he knew something was wrong.

The boy paused when he saw the bloody stain on the floor, and when he rounded the console he paused again when he saw the corpse.

Vader grimaced as Luke looked up and froze when he saw his own image on the bank of viewscreens.

To his credit, the boy pivoted and fired at the troopers that boiled through the doorway, before realising there was far too many and ducking behind the console.

Vader couldn't see what Luke was doing there - the camera was at the wrong angle - so it was something of a surprise when Luke reappeared, jumping deftly over the console, a durasteel bar in hand. Vader frowned, quickly realising what his son had had in mind, and feeling a mixture of exasperation and pride at the attempt. Blocking blaster bolts was a crechling Jedi trick - but this was all the more ambitious: the bar looked heavy and unwieldy, not naturally graceful. Not an easy lightsaber substitute.

Luke managed to slug a few troopers before a shot finally breached his defence and ripped into his thigh. Vader again turned to his son, mentally comparing the healing wound with the one the boy clutched on the videofeed. His own thigh seemed to ache in sympathy at the look of overwhelming agony on the boy's face. Still, the boy kept fighting - he unholstered his blaster and was firing back, dropping some of the troopers.

The camera now had a clear view of Luke's face. Vader watched, his fists closing and unclosing spasmodically, attempting to cool the anger seeing even this post-script recording elicited in him. Luke's eyes were closed, and his face was contorted in fierce concentration. And then - he dropped the bar, his hand came upwards as if to ward off another shot - and the troopers were all blown off their feet by an invisible push.

Vader stiffened in his seat, not quite believing what he had just seen. He rewound the footage, played it again. And again, Luke's hand came up and... and the troopers fell to the ground, stunned.

From the pained expression on Luke's face, the boy didn't even realise anything had happened. The Force blow had been completely unconscious. Luke was still bent over in pain. Such power... Vader's fingers tingled in pleasure: the boy was strong.

Darasbt stepped into the room, and stilled in alarm when he saw Luke surrounded by the downed troopers. He fumbled for his blaster - aimed it in the boy's face. The Governor's hand shook, and Vader couldn't blame him. But still, the man waited until Luke looked up into the blaster's sights before firing a stun blast.

Vader reached out a hand to pause the image as a new group of troopers appeared and began dragging the boy away, Darasbt watching quietly from the sidelines.

There was a familiarity to what Vader had just seen, that resonated with memories of himself at Luke's age. He too had experienced sudden surges of power in the Force, and particularly when in desperate circumstances, when his emotions screamed for action. Darth Vader had learned to harness that power into the dark side, but it had taken years of careful urging by Palpatine to persuade Anakin to transform into Vader. Vader did not have the luxury of time with his son. He may well have to be more... direct with Luke. And yet he feared that if he pushed too hard, was too brutal, Luke would come to detest him, even as Vader had come to resent Palpatine. And he did not want that.

Distracted in the depths of his deliberations, Vader's gaze wandered to the small, blurred image of Darasbt watching Luke being dragged away. Anger, indignant and possessive, rose in Vader at the sight of the man, who was long overdue Vader's retribution.

And even as he thought that, Vader felt a slow smile creep upon him: perhaps, just perhaps, there was another way for Luke to learn the power of the dark side - and one in which Vader need not be the aggressor.

Vader swept into the small cell that held Darasbt, well aware that his ire shone through the emotionless mask he wore. The detention-level troopers hurried to scatter out of his way. Aboard the Executor, you learned fast when not to trouble the Dark Lord, or you never got the chance to learn from your mistakes at all. Nobody followed Vader into the cell. The door shut with a sigh.

Vader stood in dark lighting, contemplating the sleeping figure on the room's single bulk. He flexed his fingers. Governor Darasbt awoke as if stung. Vader felt the bulky, repulsive man's attempts to resist the urge to recoil in horror at the dark presence that had swept into his cell. He studied him clinically.

"My Lord!" To his credit, the man quickly found his voice, although it squeaked with fear and apprehension. Vader smiled coldly behind his mask. The governor saw nothing but a dark expression.

"I believe you have a few questions to answer, Governor." Vader said coolly. He didn't have to emphasise his words for the rasping breathing to sound threatening.

"My Lord, I fear there has been a terrible error. I-" The man was trying to speak eloquently but failed, voice breaking under the stress.

Vader regarded him coldly. "Indeed there has," he rumbled. "More than one." Vader never moved, never changed his stance, but the governor still cowered. "Would you care to tell me what they were?" he asked.

"I..." the man stuttered. Vader could see him thinking. The Dark Lord hadn't brutalised him, hadn't interrogated him, and still addressed him with his Imperial title. To the smaller man, that might seem like hope that his crimes would go unpunished. Under those circumstances, the truth would be the best course of action.

A shame, then, that he didn't realise that Vader was simply toying with him.

The governor bowed his head in a poor imitation of shame. "I did not inform Imperial Centre of my capture of Mon Mothma."

Vader waited. "And?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "And I did not defend her quarters well enough against a Rebel attack."

"And?"

"And... I..." the man stuttered. He didn't know what else to say.

Vader stepped towards him, grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. His hand balled into a fist around the man's shirt, choking him. Darasbt was shaking.

"Governor, tell me, do you realise who you captured after you lost Mon Mothma?"

Darasbt fumbled for words. "A...a Rebel, My Lord. Skywalker - a rebel pilot. He was disguised. He-"

Vader was shaking his head in disgust. He dropped the man back to the deck. "Let me tell you something, Governor - let me know when you understand." Darasbt nodded weakly, rubbing at his throat. "That boy - Skywalker - is more than just a pilot - he is Force sensitive."

"I..." Darasbt started to speak.

"You understand?" Vader snapped.

"I... no, my Lord."

"He is a Force sensitive - the son of a Jedi."

Darasbt shook his head. "Yes my Lord, but... but the Jedi are extinct. They-"

Remarkable that the man still was able to speak. Vader stalked towards him. "I know. I extinguished them," he said. "All but this boy."

The governor was shaking his head. "But-"

"Why would I do that, Darasbt?"

"I don't-"

"Think about it."

"I-"

"Why are they all dead - and he is not?"

"I... don't know." Nothing but fear in the man's eyes. Vader drank it in.

"I will tell you something, Governor, but you must not repeat it to anyone. Am I understood?" Vader asked, quietly, almost conspiratorially. The man nodded eagerly, half scared, half wondering. "I used to be a Jedi."

Vader waited. It seemed to take an intolerably long time, but ultimately Darasbt seemed to put he is the son of a Jedi and I used to be a Jedi together. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Do you understand yet, Governor?" Vader almost spat the last word. The man could keep the title - for the next few moments, at least.

Darasbt was wide-eyed, shaking. "Please no."

Vader tiled his head to one side. "No what?"

"Please don't-"

"Do you understand, yet?"

"I... I... I didn't know..." Vader moved closer to him and Darasbt backed away hurriedly, the back of his legs hitting the narrow bench and he sat down with a thud. He held both hands up, as if to ward Vader off. "No - don't."

"You interrogated my son." Vader hauled him back to his feet - the man couldn't even stand on his own he was so racked with fear.

"He was just a Rebel. I didn't know."

"Then you pay for your stupidity as well."

Darasbt shook his head fervently. "If I'd known..."

Vader threw the man to a painful landing on the deck. "Had you known, you would have sold him to the bounty hunters you had set up for Mon Mothma. Don't look so surprised, Governor. You were stupid and a poor leader. Your men didn't even need the use of your revered interrogation droids to speak."

The man shook his head dumbly. "My Lord, if there is anything I can do to make amends for this terrible error, then I-" Vader paused in his stride, as if thinking. Darasbt seemed to take it as a cue to beg further, because he carried prattling on. "Whatever way I can serve you, my Lord - to atone for this, you have my allegiance."

Vader would dearly have liked to relieve the man of his falsely pious head. But such was not his plan. There was someone who had more right than Vader to kill Darasbt. Vader stalked the length of the cell, as if contemplating the man, although in truth his plans had been laid long before he had set foot in the cell.

"Very well, Governor - there is one task you could fulfil for me."

The man looked up at him with eager, almost relieved eyes. Ah, but the death of this worthless scum was going to be sweet... and that it would facilitate Luke's first step along the path to the dark side -

- that was sweeter still.