Even though Luke found it hard to believe, his excitement grew with each passing second. With hurried steps, he entered the shuttle waiting for them in the Executor's main docking bay, flanked by two guards clad in the iconic white armor, the imposing form of Darth Vader shielding his back. The clatter of their footfalls rang like thunder against the hard durasteel floor.
Once they had ascended the boarding ramp, the boy's eyes wandered around curiously. He had seen schematics of these kinds of shuttles before, and while the outside of the vessel appeared perfectly typical, the interior exhibited some strange alterations.
While the guards habitually took their assigned posts, Vader remained near the boarding ramp as it was being sealed with a sharp hissing sound.
"This is a Sienar Fleet Lambda class T-4a, right?" Luke inquired.
"Correct." Vader replied briefly, crossing his arms in front of his massive chest, unmoving.
"Huh," the boy retorted, still gazing around the small space he currently found himself in, "I always thought there was more crew space back here."
Vader seemed to regard him with some curiosity before he spoke.
"There usually is. This, however, is my personal shuttle," he explained, his voice almost deafening in the small compartment, "and I have had it modified to suit my needs. I do not generally require large numbers of troops or security personnel."
"Makes sense…" Luke commented with a nod after briefly regarding the Dark Lord.
He stood in silence for a moment, eyes wandering across several small doors and openings to other compartments, itching to find out what might be hidden behind them. Debating whether he should try his luck and ask, a sudden rumbling of the engines tore him from his thoughts. A series of small warning diodes flashed overhead and the floor and walls instantly came alive with a rhythmic, full vibration.
"We are about to take off," Vader explained curtly, "I strongly suggest that you take a seat."
Blinking, Luke watched as the Dark Lord sat down and strapped himself into one of the passenger seats. Seeing the imposing figure in any position other than standing up still seemed somewhat atypical, he mused with a small grin.
As the rumbling from underfoot increased, however, he quickly followed suit and secured himself in the seat next to his father. To his right, R2 steadied himself on his stubby legs with a series of short beeps.
Despite the compartment's noise dampening layout, the engines's roar gained in volume until it drowned out even Luke's thoughts. He quickly reached out to his right and placed a calming hand on R2's dome as an immense tremor ran through the small vessel.
They had finally taken off.
Gradually, the shudder and noise died down until they were nothing more than a quiet drone in the background.
"I guess Imperial pilots aren't trained for smooth take-offs, huh?" Luke thought aloud. I could definitely pull that off better than any of them.
"Remaining alive generally takes precedence in a military setting," Vader retorted while undoing the straps around his torso, "Yet you will certainly receive the opportunity to demonstrate your own abilities in time."
Instantly, a furious blush crept across Luke's face. He really needed to learn to control his thoughts when he was around his father. Fingering nervously, he opened his own security straps, a smart remark dying in his throat.
An uncomfortable silence quickly blanketed the small compartment and before long, Luke found himself impatiently drumming his fingers on the cushioned armrests.
"Perhaps you might prefer to witness our descent from the cockpit." A strong baritone suggested.
Luke's head snapped to the left, regarding Vader with wide eyes. He had been under the impression that he was at least some sort of captive - considering the security officers observing his every move since he had left his quarters with what little belongings he had - so he hadn't dared to hope. But he definitely preferred being surprised to being right in this situation.
Nodding briefly, a broad smile on his lips, he almost jumped out of his chair and hurried toward the cockpit, hardly able to wait for the thick door to slide open. When it did, however, he instinctively blinked in surprise. Where he had expected at least a handful of personnel, he spied nothing more than a single officer sitting at the controls. All the remaining chairs were empty.
The pilot briefly turned his head toward Luke, nodding a quick salute, then directed his gaze back forward. He seemed hardly impressed with the boy's arrival.
Shrugging inwardly, Luke decided to be grateful for not having to explain himself - maybe Vader had informed the officers beforehand? If so, how much had he told them? - and ushered forward, passing the gunnery station and coming to a rest behind the co-pilot's chair.
As soon as he spied the scenery beyond the transparisteel viewport, he no longer had eyes for any controls: Imperial Center. What had already been impressive from aboard the Executor was simply mind-blowing up close. His heart thundered in his chest in excitement as he caught the first close-up glimpses of the core-world's surface. The glowing circles and formations from before had taken shape, turned into busy skylanes, illuminated landing platforms and manmade buildings towering so high he wondered if one could possibly even open their windows without being sucked into the vacuum of space. Any stories he had heard of the planet before paled easily against the breathtaking reality.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" the pilot looked up at him with a knowing smirk. "I remember when I first came hereafter graduating from Carida. You hear the stories, but nothing can really prepare you."
Luke nodded, letting out a short laugh.
"Yeah, it's pretty different from where I grew up." He was about to go into more detail and tell the young officer about Tatooine, but swallowed his words at the last moment. He was pretty sure that his father wouldn't want him to give away such information carelessly.
"Just wait 'till you're planetside," the pilot added, a lieutenant, judging by his insignia, "There'll be loads of things you've never even heard of."
He was silent for a moment while Luke's eyes wandered over the purplish planet now taking up the whole of the viewport, drinking in the sights before him.
"See that huge body of water over there?" the lieutenant gestured toward the western hemisphere, "That's the Western Sea. Last natural water reservoir on all of Imperial Center. And that rock formation to the east, that's the Manarai Mountains. Only place they haven't plastered with buildings yet. Couple of retreats of the rich and famous, though."
Luke nodded once more, his eyes fixed on the planet's manmade surface, dissecting whatever came into view. Suddenly, something commanded his gaze to a large, pyramidal structure easily towering over everything in its vicinity. Its gray-green walls, aglow with hundreds if not thousands of small lights, sent a cold shiver down his spine. It felt wrong.
"What's that?" he pointed to the building.
"Ah, that monster," the lieutenant answered, "That's the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor stays when he's in the capital. Guess you could call it the nerve-center of the Empire. Lots of things happen behind those walls. Pretty impressive up close, too. People keep getting lost in there all the time," and with a short laugh, he added, "couple of weeks ago, Maintenance found a corpse at one of the desks in the office sections, several weeks old by the looks of it. ISB thinks the poor guy had a heart attack and nobody noticed. That's how big that thing is. A maze, quite literally. You might wanna take an astromech, or at least a nav-device if you ever get in there."
Eyes glued to the palace, the boy nodded.
"Thanks, I'll make sure to do that."
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Luke became aware that he would have to pay a visit to the palace sooner or later. Whether he liked it or not.
Vader watched silently as the boy stormed off to the cockpit. The little one's excitement coursed through the Force in powerful streams, impossible to ignore. Yet it did not require a sensitive to read his current emotional state; his whole body easily betrayed him.
And Darth Vader understood. Imperial Center was a unique planet; it held the promise of adventure, of the unknown. No matter how much time one spent on the ecumenopolis, one would never be able to learn about all of its sides, neither the sightly nor the dark ones. It was a planet that never ceased to surprise even the most seasoned of travelers.
Lifetimes ago, he himself had felt its irresistible pull, had experienced the indescribable wonder of first laying eyes on what had become the center of the Galactic Empire as well as of his own life. To the innocent, influenceable slave boy from the dreary Outer Rim, Coruscant had been a playground of unlimited potential. No longer distracted by the daily fight for pure survival, the boy had finally discovered the pleasures of life. In spite of every piece of good advice - and certainly much reprimand - he had embraced the thrill of danger; illegal races, speeder diving, the underground levels teeming with criminals - nothing had seemed more inviting than the forbidden.
Even though disillusionment and the very gloom of reality had served to extract even the last remainders of promise for him, Vader was well aware that his son, having inherited many more the cursed Skywalker genes than he had ever thought possible, would likely try to seek similarly dangerous occupations to pass his time.
Images easily came before his mind. Uninvited, unwanted. Yet persistent.
His son jumping from a speeder, plummeting down the bottomless abysses of the capital, vehicles barely managing to avoid the falling body, the scrawny form almost smashing into walkways, zooming within inches of durasteel landing platforms, ever falling…
Closing his eyes behind his ebony mask, Vader banished the thoughts from his mind, trying to suppress the dread slowly creeping up on him and quickly gaining a tight grasp on his chest.
Cursed Skywalker genes indeed.
Having exited the shuttle and walked down its boarding ramp, Luke found his curiosity mounting to unbearable levels. Finally they had reached Imperial Center and set down in a massive landing bay. From the cockpit, he had seen that they were still within walking distance of the Imperial Palace, and their current location was only marginally less imposing: at least several hundred meters higher than any of the buildings surrounding it, the sleek black structure exuded an air of dominance and regality. Although it was far less intricately designed than the palace, its clear straightforwardness portrayed strength and control.
Luke waited by the foot of the ramp, R2 faithfully at his side, for the Dark Lord to leave the shuttle and join him. His father hadn't spoken to him for the remainder of the short trip - somehow, Luke thought, he'd seemed tense - and the boy could hardly contain his questions.
Finally, thunderous steps announced Vader's approach while the shuttle's engine slowly powered down. Briskly, he walked up to the young blond man and his astromech.
"Follow me," he ordered without stopping and began to walk across the nearly empty hangar.
With a jolt, Luke set into motion and jogged to his father's side, falling into step to his left.
"Where are we?" he asked, looking up at the polished black helmet.
"My palace," came the simple answer.
Luke almost stumbled at the word, his eyes wide in amazement.
"Your what?" he couldn't stop himself from muttering.
Vader briefly gazed down at his son.
"My palace," he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the galaxy. "I have several private retreats on Imperial Center. This is the one I use most frequently."
Luke knew he was still gaping, but he couldn't help himself. He was well aware that his father was a high ranking officer, to say the least, but somehow he hadn't expected anything like this. It seemed fairly surreal to him.
"This residence is located in the Palace District," Vader explained as the unlikely trio continued down spacious corridors, clean-cut structures of dark wood elegantly illuminated by endless series of wall-mounted glowspheres, "As you may have noticed, the Imperial Palace is within walking distance and can directly be accessed via a series of high security tunnels and walkways. Those are off-limits to anybody but the Emperor and myself."
Luke nodded absent-mindedly. The shuttle pilot's story still fresh in mind, he tried to memorize each corner they were taking, each corridor and turbolift, but soon had to give up exasperatedly.
"Do not worry, young one," the mechanical voice sounded suddenly, "You will soon have familiarized yourself with your new surroundings. Additionally, you will find my personal security officers at various stations throughout the building. I have alerted them answer to your requests." After a short pause, he briefly looked back down at Luke and added, "As long as those are sensible."
For a while they walked in silence, Vader's automatized breathing lulling Luke into a comfortable daze. Visually, his surroundings supplied little distraction as well. While there was a certain air of practical elegance about everything, he couldn't find a single piece of unnecessary furniture or decoration. Of course he hadn't expected galleries of holos or fancy pieces of art but… well, in fact, he had no idea just what he had expected.
"You appear to be… confused," Vader supplied, breaking the silence, apparently sensing Luke's mental state.
Luke looked up at his father's masked face, studying the polished surface.
"Well," he began hesitantly, not knowing whether he might be overstepping implied boundaries. "It seems a little empty. Almost like nobody's living here."
The Dark Lord paused for a moment before replying simply:
"I see no need for embellishing my surroundings."
"Oh okay…" the boy commented uncomfortably, unwilling to press the issue further. His father had apparently done away with his past for some reason Luke couldn't quite understand yet. But in time, he was sure, he would learn more. After all, Anakin Skywalker was still alive, and if anyone was able to draw him back to the surface, it would be his son, Luke thought with no little amount of self-confidence.
As they walked on, the young man had the strange feeling that security measures were increasing; he spied several surveillance cams blending into the wooden walls, well-hidden deactivated force-fields set into the floor and, above all, countless stormtroopers standing at attention near possibly vital rooms and turbolift entrances. Minutes later, having entered another corridor conspicuously like all others before, yet apparently very close to the top of the building, Vader came to a halt before a closed door.
"These," Vader began, gesturing his gloved hands at the corridor, "will serve as your quarters. This corridor accommodates a bedroom, a training hall, an office as well as a communications suite, a balcony and several storage compartments. You may make use of them as you see fit. My personnel will provide you with a comlink and custom security codes shortly."
Luke nodded, trying to take in the information as he watched Vader's gloved hand hovering over the door panel, habitually punching in an unlock code. Noiselessly, the polished door slid open to give view of the room beyond. For what seemed like the dozenth time since he had left the Executor, he gaped in disbelief as he stepped over the threshold and followed his father.
While equally sparsely furnished as his quarters aboard Vader's flagship, the sheer size of the room overwhelmed him. There was a large bed against the rightmost corner of the wall, several shelves lining the entire room, an enormous desk with a formchair facing a window overlooking the Palace District, a leather couch opposite an expensive looking, wall-mounted holovid, and a door set into the wall to the left, likely separating the bedroom and its adjoining fresher unit.
"I hope you find your quarters adequate," Vader stated, trying to provoke a verbalized reaction from this son.
The boy simply stood in the middle of the room, arms at his sides, looking every bit like a lost, little shaak.
"I…", he stuttered, momentarily at a loss for words, "It's… huge… Half our farm would fit in here!" he finished before he was even aware of what he had said. The unexpected reminder of his dead aunt and uncle, however, instantly dimmed his euphoria and he lowered his head slightly, his eyes suddenly fixed on his boots. R2, very attuned to his young master's recent mood swings, quickly rolled up to him and nudged him carefully, uttering a string of soft beeps and hoots. Luke gazed over at him with a small smile and gently patted the silvery dome.
"Don't worry, R2, I'm fine," he said softly.
The short, following silence, however, was soon broken by Vader's mechanical baritone.
"Very well. My own personal quarters are located in the adjacent corridor. Should you require anything, contact either myself or one of my officers. I now have pressing matters to attend to," he stated, turning back toward the corridor, yet before he had fully stepped out, added, "I will call on you later."
With that, the black form crossed the threshold, his sable cloak billowing behind him as the door slid shut, leaving a downcast Luke to his own devices. Somehow, he hadn't felt this alone in days.
A soft whistle drew his attention to the small astromech and he slowly knelt down, now on eye-level, and brushed off some unseen dust from the droid's metal surface.
"So… what do we do now, R2?"
"You sure you can trust your source?"
"Sure as a Hutt is fat. Can't say it's him yet, but it sure doesn't look good. I'm sorry, buddy."
"Alright. Thanks, man. I owe you one."
That said, Han Solo cut the holo transmission and sank back into the pilot's chair. With a sigh, he brought his hands behind his head and looked up at the cockpit ceiling.
It definitely didn't look good. For weeks, there had been no news of Luke; no messages, no communication, not even the slightest sign where the boy could've ended up. Now that he finally had a hint, he should probably be grateful for the information, but the content left little to celebrate. According to Lando's sources, the Imps had taken a Rebel prisoner above Tatooine - worst of all, it had been Darth Vader's personal flagship, the Empire's new monstrosity called Super Star Destroyer, that had picked the man up. And as if all of that wasn't bad enough already, the prisoner had apparently tried to make a run for it, but had been seriously injured before being recaptured. As Lando had said, an Admiral by the name of Ozzel had been held responsible for the incident; and replaced, meaning death by execution in Imperial terms. Considering that Vader had sacrificed such a high ranking officer, the prisoner had to be of some importance… just like the Rebel pilot that had almost single-handedly destroyed the Emperor's precious Death Star.
Han cursed inwardly, and ran a hand across his face.
A Star Destroyer alone was bad enough, especially Vader's, for that matter, but if the rumors were true, the ship was en route to Imperial Center and quite likely there by now.
How in the nine hells were they supposed to get the kid out of there? It was the blasted heart of the Empire!
Han let out another sigh and sank deeper into the chair. The description was close enough, and even if he didn't have any visual evidence yet, no security recordings or official reports, there was little doubt that it really was Luke, that the Emperor's lapdog had really managed to get his hands on the boy.
A sudden noise tore him from his thoughts as the door to the cockpit opened and the Princess stepped in. With a tired sigh, she walked up to the co-pilot's seat and sat down.
"Please remind me to leave 3PO on Thila next time," she said, rolling her eyes, "He is absolutely adamant about Luke and R2 being in trouble. I just can not listen to it anymore."
Han simply looked at her and then, instead of replying, turned to the nav computer, re-checking their course but hardly seeing what he did. He knew just how worried she was about Luke; he had always been important to her ever since they had met. The rings under her eyes clearly attested to the fact that she got very little good sleep lately, and he couldn't blame her. Even though he wouldn't admit it, the kid's disappearance drove a cold dread into his heart. All the more now that he finally might have an idea of what had happened to him.
"Is something wrong?" Leia's small voice came to his ears, and he awarded her with a brief glance.
Her dark eyes betrayed all the feelings of fear and panic she managed to hide so well. Thinking that, as a leading member of the Rebel Alliance, she wasn't supposed to show any weakness, the Princess always put up a strong front, her emotions only ever shining through in moments when she felt unobserved. But the worry was there. He could clearly see it.
Han knew that she ached for any hint of what might have happened to Luke - that she herself had started gathering information on his potential whereabouts. It would be only fair to tell her what he had found out.
She deserved to know.
"Just making sure Echo base'll give us the warm welcome we deserve, your Worshipfulness," he retorted.
She deserved to know, but he just couldn't tell her.
As the small bedside chronometer flipped casually from 0159 to 0200, Luke threw his hands over his head in defeat. After the long day he had had, he should be fast asleep by now, giving his body and mind some chance of recuperating while getting accustomed to his new surroundings. Tonight, however, sleep would not come to him. It was not like he was particularly brooding over something; quite the opposite, his mind felt rather empty, his every muscle and sinew drained of all energy.
There was absolutely no reason why he should not be able to fall asleep.
Lazily, his gaze wandered over the darkened room. At the side of his bed stood the silent form of R2, powered down for the night after Luke had finally been able to convince him that it wasn't necessary to guard him while he slept. Little else had changed in his new quarters: a tiny, state-of-the-art comlink and a small datapad containing his new security codes, placed safely on his desk, were his only belongings - his father likely still retaining his bag holding Ben's book, and possibly even his old lightsaber.
His father…
As he had been taught, Luke slowly opened his mind to the Force, and, taking a firm hold of its glistening fabric, reached out to the voices around him. The sudden onslaught of myriads of beings made him flinch and draw back for a moment. Their thoughts were deafening almost, and Luke had to resist the urge of covering his ears with his hands, knowing it wouldn't serve any purpose. Instead, he forced them down into a steady chatter of static, barely audible but still within grasp should he choose to listen. Unknowingly, he had come to pant, his forehead glistening with cold sweat. When he had reached out before, he had always been in an isolated setting, dealing with a limited amount of sentient beings. Never before had he had to deal with the echoes of an entire planet. That, however, he supposed, was something he would have to grow accustomed to. After all, he had only begun to learn about the Force.
Then again, there were some things he was able to do almost instinctively.
Taking a deep breath, he drew in the welcoming, almost intoxicating air around him - so deeply laced with the Force, so instantly calming - and focused his mind on the one signature that had become so much like an extension to his own. Rough around the edges and deeply tainted with darkness, it still exuded a strange sensation of belonging and familiarity.
He could clearly sense it.
His father was close. And approaching still.
Even despite only having begun his training, the boy instantly felt the unprecedented levels of tension radiating from his father. Apparently, being back at the capital was already taking its toll on him.
All of a sudden, Luke's eyes tore open and he jerked into a sitting position as a loud rumbling crashed against the window to his right.
An explosion?
Suppressing an instinctive worry, he was up on his feet within split-seconds and made his way over to the large transparisteel pane. Puzzled, he quickly ran his hands across the control panel and removed the nighttime shade. Instantly, the glaring lights of the ecumenopolis invaded the room and Luke quickly brought his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sudden brightness. For a fleeting moment, the light even intensified, followed by another earth-shattering roar.
A thunderstorm, Luke recognized finally and watched with a smile as eventually, large droplets of water began to pound against the window.
Rain, real rain!
In awe, he placed his hands on the transparent pane, watching the sudden downpour with undivided attention.
So much rain!
At once, an idea came to him and before he was even fully aware of it, Luke was already dashing out of his bedroom and into the dimly lit corridor. Retracing his earlier steps in a haste, he eventually skidded out onto the balcony. His fingers shaky with excitement, he deactivated the forcefield sheltering the large terrace from the elements and finally stepped out into the chilly air, large raindrops instantly drenching every inch of his skin. Yet instead of drawing back and seeking cover, he walked up to the railing, and, with the most childish of grins on his face, closed his eyes and threw his head back.
All that rain!
It never rained like this on Tatooine, never more than a short drizzle, he remembered as he let the water gush through his hair, over his grinning cheeks, trickling into his mouth. The steady rhythm of the pouring rain massaged his tired skin and the distant, full peal of thunder eased his mind. He stood motionless for minutes, simply cherishing the raw power of the elements.
"I had assumed I would find you asleep," a voice so much like the crash of thunder interjected.
Luke opened his eyes with deliberate slowness and looked over to where his father stood, sheltered from the rain. He shrugged, a sheepish but innocent smile turning his face into that of the little desert boy who had just received his first swimming lesson.
"I like the rain," he explained simply, "We never had much of it on Tatooine. And whenever we would get a thunderstorm, there'd be so much sand blown up by it–"
His eyed dimmed slightly at the memory; once more the voices of his late aunt and uncle came to haunt his mind.
"Harvesting this much water would've taken us months," he added with a short, disbelieving chuckle, "Uncle Owen sure would've been happy. Maybe he would've even cut me some slack."
Vader still stood motionless near the entrance, watching the scene before him.
"Your uncle was always an obdurate man."
Curiously, Luke blinked as the words sunk in and his eyes came to rest on the dark form of his father who was finally taking the first steps toward him. For a silly moment, he wondered whether Vader was even able to walk out into the rain or if the moisture would possibly short-circuit his suit, but he quickly pushed the thought aside - lest his father might pick it up.
"You knew him?"
"Briefly," was all the Dark Lord was willing to supply.
"Hm…" Luke muttered as familiar scenes began to unfold before his inner eye, dinner-table discussions, arguments and ill-directed insults whose mere memory now sent pangs of guilt into his heart. "He never told me anything, about… you…"
Now standing at the railing beside his son, Vader briefly regarded the boy before gazing out at the skyline of the Imperial capital. The rain drummed heavily against his polished helmet and shoulderplates.
"He never agreed with the path I chose," he supplied, "The greater workings of the universe are beyond the understanding of the simple man."
Luke caught a sideways glance at his father's mask and, with a small nod, found that he had to agree. There had been so many things his uncle had never understood - had not even been willing to understand.
Still… Owen and Beru Lars might have been simple people, but they were the ones that had raised them. It had been Beru who had come to a 5-year-old Luke crying in his bed scared out of his wits, because he had dreamed of the big bad Krayt Dragon coming to eat him, and it had been his uncle who had scraped together what little money he was able to save to buy his nephew the T-16 skyhopper the boy had begging for for years. Despite all he had been denied in his childhood, he had certainly had a loving home…
It was almost as if his father had felt his growing distress for he suddenly turned to his son, his deep baritone pulling the boy from his unmerciful thoughts.
"It is already late. I advise that you return to your room and sleep," And turning around, his drenched cloak following his motions only sluggishly, he added, "Rain is quite frequent on Imperial Center. You will soon become accustomed to it."
His blond hair plastered to his forehead and hanging lazily into his eyes, he watched his father retreat inside, unable to shake the immense feeling of loss expanding inside his chest.
He'd had a home…
Effortlessly, the small snub evaded the incoming enemy fire and he pressed his eyes shut. Sight was no longer necessary.
As he felt his first target come into range, he pressed the trigger with one deliberate, precise move of his thumbs and watched in satisfaction as the enormous cruiser burst apart into myriads of pieces, the sudden brightness dimming the transparisteel canopy. Yet he moved on, even blindly. His snub spiraled, rose and criss-crossed among the enemy vessels, obliterating ship after ship in a cascade of detonations.
Through the Force, pain, hopelessness and fear assaulted his senses, and he relished them, drank them in thirstily. They fueled his frenzied flight until there was only him and the wideness of space afire with countless explosions. And his own, mad laughter droning out the static of dead communication lines like a victory song.
His laughter echoed on even as he stepped forward, his crimson blade in hand, the only light to illuminate the narrow corridors of ice. It was a game of hide and seek, and he would always be the winner. Snow and ice crashing under his feet, he advanced surely across the unfamiliar terrain. He needed no maps or directions, for the dark side guided him with a strong hand. Over the course of his wicked contest, he came upon dozens over dozens of soldiers - male, female, humanoid, alien - but he took little notice. It took him no more than a brief flick of his right, gloved wrist to do away with any of them. None of them were any match to the dark side of the force, and his little game was slowly turning boring.
Soon, his senses alerted him to a more promising target and a wicked smile crept onto his lips. He would finally be able to rid himself of them.
Traitors, liars, all of them!
His rage rose as he followed his pulsating blade into the small cavern and ultimately laid his eyes upon the small, female figure before him. Her fragile body backed into the wall, her brown eyes full of fear but pleading at the same time.
Yet he heard none of her words.
Circling his wrist in amusement, he let his blade hiss through the frigid air, ever so slowly closing in on the small woman.
Somehow, his gaze became fixed on her face. Something told him that she was familiar, yet he refused to search his memory. Memories had never done him any good in his life. The air was still filled with nothing but the low hum of the saber, and her lips kept moving, mouthing words that never made it to his ears.
And still, that one word…
…k…
L…
Lu…
Luke!
Luke!
Vader's bare head snapped upward and his eyes flew open immediately. His meditation was instantly forgotten as a nauseating wave of emotions crashed in on him through the Force.
The boy!
The boy was dreaming, or was he–
Not even waiting to finish his own thought, the Dark Lord slammed the controls to the mechanism assisting him with donning his mask and helmet, and as soon as he was once more encased the protective pressurized environment, he opened his hyperbaric chamber and sprang to his feet. He almost stumbled, not having used his legs in hours, but quickly recovered his balance and rushed out of his private chambers, nearly sprinting to his son's bedroom.
Briefly steadying himself against yet another onslaught of raw feelings, he rapidly keyed in an override code and hastened into the dark room and to the boy's bedside.
Vader took a moment to evaluate the scene before him; the boy was trashing wildly - apparently still caught in his night terrors - and the bedsheets were a mere tangle of fabric and scrawny limbs.
Hesitantly, he reached out a large, gloved hand and placed it on the boy's shoulder. Although the blonde was trying to shake him off, there was little he could do against the iron grip of Darth Vader.
"Son", he began, his voice echoing over the mad ramblings of the boy, "wake up."
It was only slowly that the little one's thrashing ceased and his resistance caved. Gradually, almost hesitantly, his eyes opened and without warning, he snaked out of Vader's grasp and pressed himself into the corner. Confusion and fear were wallowing off of him in incontrollable waves, and the Dark Lord found it hard to keep his ground.
Stopping his hand in mid-air as he recognized his son's fearful gaze, he stood back slightly. The boy quickly drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, cold sweat glistening on his face, matting his blond hair to his head.
For moments, Vader simply stood, observing, giving him all the time he needed to regain his senses. Unconsciously, he sent out small, gentle nudges of encouragement, easing the young one's mind without alerting him to his intrusion.
And finally, recognition dimmed in his eyes and a strong, crimson blush crept across his face.
"You were having a nightmare." Vader stated.
The blush intensified and Luke stared at his knees.
"It's nothing…"
'What's bothering you?'
'Nothing…'
"It is clearly not nothing."
'Anakin, how long is it going to take for us to be honest with each other?'
"It was… just a nightmare," Luke muttered lowly, voice barely raised above a whisper, "I have them every once in a while."
Vader regarded him for an instant, unwanted memories battling for recognition. Could it be that the boy had inherited that cursed Skywalker trait as well?
"What are they about?"
Luke hesitated, and Vader could feel his insecurities about divulging such personal information. If he urged him on now, he would certainly close off his mind completely - so he decided to wait.
And eventually, his patience was rewarded.
"About… family… and friends, sometimes… They're always different…"
"I see", he paused for a moment and regarded his son, "The Force will allow you to witness many things hidden to the ordinary mind. Should you experience another nightmare, I ask only that you let me know."
Blinking, the boy nodded briefly, not quite understanding, but Vader decided that there and then was neither the right place nor the right time. Softly placing a gloved hand on his surprised son's temple, he lulled the young mind into a daze and watched as his body drifted off into a slumber.
Awkwardly, the Dark Lord untangled the boy's limbs and placed him under the blankets. Reaching out to the head of bleached blond hair, he was about to brush the sweaty strands from the now closed eyes when the reality of the gesture invaded his mind and he drew back hastily.
Without taking another look back, he hurried out of the room, quick steps failing miserably to catch up with the agitated rhythm of his pounding heart.
a/n: Well, not quite as long as the last chapter, but still the second longest one in the story. I simply can't seem to control myself lately… Take it as my way of making up for the increasingly long intervals between updates!
Anyway, thank you all so much for staying with me and reviewing! This story has now become the longest I have written so far and has broken the 125 review mark - quite a magical line, I believe.
So… this chapter featured a large amount of Luke and Vader interaction, but I do have to build up the characters and their relationships to be able to move on with the story after all. You do see, however, that I haven't forgotten about the Rebels, and even Palpatine will return to Imperial Center in the next chapter. With the Rule of Two in place, he can hardly stay uninvolved now, can he?
All right, to keep up with the usual structure, let's move on to answer as many of your questions as I can!
ILDV: Thank you, emotions are important to me, so I'm glad it came across well!
A Diffrent Type of Flower: Leia will have a place in the story, naturally, but that is about all I am willing to give away at the moment!
Raionne: Oh yes, the son is changing the father, more than the latter is willing to admit. And we're nowhere done yet.
Carrie2sky: What can I say, it just seems much more natural. If I put myself in his place, I wouldn't know which side to choose. Also, if you look at the EU, there are various moments when Jedi border on the dark side and still manage to find their way back. No person is inherently purely good or bad. Jedi shouldn't make a difference there.
gryphenvoid: Rest assured, the chaos will come!
Blaid: Thank you! I have several characters already fleshed out, but I will let you know if I need any assistance.
Treenahasthaal: I'm glad I managed to enrapture you and hope I will keep living up to your expectations
Tina95: Yes, I believe that forbidding attachment was eventually the downfall of the Old Jedi Order. Suppressing feelings instead of exploring and understanding them usually has disastrous effects.
Mysterious Prophetess: You're welcome! While I do enjoy the TFU games - who doesn't like wielding a lightsaber? - I simply can't bring myself to consider them canon.
Elita One: And Piett will make more appearances, so look out for those!
missiongirl87: Here you go! Hope it's long enough!
Andrea Foxx: True true, I've seen my share of mushy Vader. And I'm seriously hoping I'm not falling into the trap. I think motivations are an enormous part of his character so I couldn't possibly leave them out on good conscience!
Pureblood-Slytherins: Luke's always been a dork;) I'm not sure what Piett would think, though. Working with Vader, you're supposed to take things at face-value and accept without asking. But yes, Vader actually is behind the schooling system, although he did so behind the scenes. It does make sense, though. He himself is very adamant about the importance of a good training and education, so it's only natural that he wants the members of his new Empire to follow the same principles.
sarrasi: Thank you for the compliments, I'll be sure to take a look at your story once I find the time to!
Chindu Prince of Darkness: Luke is 19, turning 20, as he was born 19 BBY.
midnight13731: Thank you, I hope the update came soon enough!
xVortex of MemoriesX: Here it is, couldn't do it faster than this. Hope you enjoy it!
klutzyphoenix: Here you go! Enjoy!