ooo

Luke had curled himself up in the only comfortable chair the sparsely furnished suite provided. He had pushed the chair as close as possible to the view pane so he could gaze down on the vast city stretching out in front of him. He could get lost in staring at it and all he wanted to do now was rest.

But the Imperials clearly had something else in mind than to leave him in peace. All too soon a sharp knock on his door interrupted the peace of the apartment. An aide stood in the door, a huge bundle of fabric under his arms. Luke eyed him with a frown as he dropped his load on the bed.

"Put this on."

"Why?"

"Because Lord Vader commanded so," the aide snapped back. His voice left little room for argument. "I can stay to help you in case you need assistance."

Luke sighed. He didn't like it, but there was little use in fighting this. "Fine," he conceded. "I'll put them on."

The aide hovered annoyingly.

"Do you mind?" Luke gestured mildly to the door.

Finally, with a sour glance, the man left and Luke gave the neatly wrapped dark garments a closer look. He unfolded the bundle. Two metal braces fell out and landed on the bed. Luke picked them up. He had seen something like them before. His adoptive father wore such vambraces with the formal style he favored. Luke picked up one of them and brushed his finger over the cool metal, thinking of all the times he had helped his father put them on.

It dawned on him where this was going.

Sure enough, when he had finished putting the garments on, Luke went to the fresher to examine his reflection in the large mirror. It was a tunic with a high collar, formal pants, a woolen cape draping over his right shoulder, and the vambraces covering the lower arms. He had seen his father wear this kind of clothing often. It was an echo of the ceremonial wear of the Alderaanian knights of old, when Alderaan hadn't yet been the peaceful planet that it was now. Except where Bail Organa favored lighter, brighter colors, these garments were pitch black and grey and they were adorned with the Imperial cog, stitched into the hem of the cape and stamped on the vambraces and the buckle of the belt.

It was a deliberate provocation, fabricated by the Emperor, Luke was sure of it. Palpatine was certainly enjoying himself, having Luke decked out like a small and twisted Imperial version of his father to be paraded around on Vader's leash for the galaxy's dignitaries to see.

He glared at his own reflection.

But that wasn't the only change he could spot in himself. It hadn't struck him as much in the small mirror that hung in the fresher on board the Executor , but here Luke thought that his face looked slimmer and definitely paler than he used to look in the happier days on Alderaan. But it wasn't just that. Maybe it was just the time that had passed, but Luke couldn't help the feeling that he had changed in many ways. He felt like he had lost the lightheartedness and carefreeness that he was sure he had possessed before.

Would he ever regain it? For a long as the Emperor lived, he'd remain a prisoner of that cursed despot and sometimes Luke doubted that Vader had a truly vested interest in disposing of the Emperor and letting him go.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, hoping to mess up the still much too short, no-nonsense cut. He needed to chase away such dim thoughts. They wouldn't help him tonight.

Luke picked at the black tunic. It was wider cut than the usual ones he had been provided on the Executor . A grin stole over Luke's face. The Emperor sought to show him and his father up, but it would serve Luke just right. The tunic provided ample space to tuck the lightsaber and safely hide it from prying eyes, and the woolen cape would cover any treacherous bulge.

He pried with his fingers into the small niche where he had hidden the blade, afraid that someone might search this place in his absence. With relief he pulled out the lightsaber. A familiar warmth soaked through him when he wrapped his fingers around the hilt.

A glimmer of doubt crept through him, but Luke brushed it off. He stuffed the lightsaber into the folds of the tunic. He checked his reflection once more with a critical eye. Luke brushed over the fabric, straightening it. No one would be able to guess that he was hiding anything.

Luke gave his reflection a grim, determined smile.

ooo

"Wait here, sir," his escort informed him curtly and Luke was left standing in a large anteroom. There was no sight of Vader and the minutes Luke spent waiting under the watchful gaze of the troopers at the door dragged by like the time in Luke's most boring school lessons. He hoped Vader would come soon and they would depart for whatever party the Emperor was giving. He pulled nervously at the cape. Finally the door opened. Luke turned, but it wasn't Vader who was standing in the door.

Luke narrowed his eyes at the portly form of the governor of Alderaan.

The governor stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. He gave Luke a dismissive once over, taking in his appearance.

"Highness," he said. Luke responded with a tight smile.

"I hope Lord Vader managed to put some much-needed sense into you," the governor mocked. "The situation in the galaxy has changed. The senator might still indulge in the delusion that his rebellion will be tolerated, but you should by now understand the consequences of such behavior."

Luke straightened his back and drew himself up as tall as he could manage, giving the man a cold stare. "You are mistaken if you think my father or I will ever be intimidated by such tactics," he replied frostily.

The smile vanished from the governor's face in an instant.

"I see how it is then," he retorted, just as cold. "You still direly lack any respect. It will be your undoing just as it is your father's."

The door opened again and the black behemoth of Vader barged in. Luke was relieved that he didn't have to spend a moment longer with that ugly toad of governor.

"I doubt the prince appreciates the amount of kindness and courtesy extended to him, Lord Vader," the governor said, turning instantly to Vader.

Luke scowled.

Vader's masked gaze focused on Luke and he bore slightly down on him. "You better behave yourself, boy, or you will regret it."

Luke shot Vader a filthy look, angry at the injustice of it. But Vader didn't see it, and if he had felt Luke's indignation through the Force, he chose to ignore it. He had already turned and marched off, the governor in tow.

There was an icy silence between them in the stately speeder that took them the short distance from Vader's base to the palace. Luke clambered from the speeder the second it stopped outside the grand entrance to the huge structure of the Imperial palace, the evening sky bleeding red with the last rays of sunlight above them. Luke was glad to flee the open sneering of the governor and Vader's irritation that made the confined space of the speeder seem downright claustrophobic.

Vader brushed past him and made his way into the palace without waiting for his entourage to keep up. The portly governor hastened after him, clearly keen to bank in on his newfound importance that allowed him to arrive with the Emperor's right hand man as much as he could. Luke didn't mind that it left him a few steps behind them with the accompanying aides and guards. This way at least he had the chance to take a good look around. The vast entrance hall was lined with massive walls of black stone and red-tinted, cut-glass window. It was buzzing with people. The polished floor of rare blue Ithoorian marble was decorated with a huge black imperial cog.

Luke scaled the large, wide-swung staircase, leading up to the second floor, behind Vader. At the top of the stairs, right opposite the main entrance, and standing out from the rest of the artwork, hung a larger-than-life portrait of a beautiful brunette woman, wearing a blue, flowing gown and an elaborate headdress. But that wasn't what caught Luke's attention. It was her huge, brown eyes which seemed to eerily catch Luke's gaze. They gave him an odd sense of familiarity. He was sure that he had seen that woman before. When Luke had reached the end of the stairs Luke spotted the huge, gold plaque underneath it. It read:

Queen, Senator, Friend. In memory of Padme Amidala who lost her life in the Jedi Rebellion.

Vader and his entourage marched on, the Dark Lord not sparing the painting a single glance, but Luke stopped short and stared up the portrait again.

Padme.

It had been the name of his mother, Bail and Breha had told him as much. What if this wasn't a coincidence? Could this be his birth mother? Luke let his eyes trail over the woman's fine cheekbones and lips, searching for what else was giving him this sense of deja-vu.

"Bring him."

Luke's head snapped to the side at the cold growl. His brain was stuttering to a halt when he spotted Vader, who had stopped a few steps down the hall. All eyes of their entourage seemed to be focused on him, but even more keenly Luke could feel Vader's stifling anger permeating the space between them. He felt like he was caught in the searchlight of an Imperial walker. Two troopers made their way swiftly back to where Luke had hung back and pushed him forward to Vader.

With a lot more force than necessary, Vader caught Luke's chin, forcing him to raise his head.

"You will stay at my side or I have methods to ensure that you do," Vader snarled. Luke recoiled at the dark tones and the undiluted, boiling anger behind it. Vader stabbed his gloved finger at him. "I have no patience for you today, Highness."

The governor at Vader's side grinned.

Luke didn't dare to answer anything. Vader let go of his chin abruptly and he turned on his heel, his cape snapping at Luke's legs. The governor, giving Luke another smug look, followed.

Luke hastened after Vader too, not only because the troopers were moving in to enforce Vader's command if necessary, but also because the question was still burning on his mind. He reached out through the Force, hoping to ask Vader about the woman in the portrait, but his probe was blocked by Vader's shields. Luke frowned. Never before had his father been completely closed off to him, nor had he felt this cold and dangerous in a very long while.

The towering hallway of the Grand Corridor they were heading down became more and more crowded the further they made it into the palace structure until they arrived outside what had to be the main ballroom. Luke slowed down at the end of the line of finely dressed dignitaries and officials at the door that waited to be checked for entry and formally announced. With worry he noted the guards scanning the people making it into the room with sensors, searching for hidden weapons and items. Luke's heart pounded in his chest. If they were to find the lightsaber-

But Vader didn't miss a step. His hand snatched out and caught Luke's arm. Vader forged on, sweeping past the dismayed stewards and guards at the entrance and the rows of soldiers of the honor guard, but no one dared to bother him. Luke struggled to keep up with Vader's wide strides. Vader pushed him through the door.

Compared to the softly lit corridor, entering the vast hall beyond was almost blinding. All the wealth in the galaxy seemed to sparkle back at Luke. The lights of the room bounced back from the mirrored, old-fashioned chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, illuminating the lavishly decorated walls full of expensive artwork. Huge carved pillars supported the crystal ceiling.

An aide hastened to them, engaging Vader in conversation and finally Vader released his painful grip on Luke's arm. Luke indignantly rubbed his arm. While his father was momentarily preoccupied, Luke had the chance to study the assembled people.

The vast room was packed with people in ornate dresses, some of them in ridiculously overdone outfits. The colorful crowd was interspersed with the white armor of the stormtroopers providing security and the dark red livery of servants carrying trays of drinks and food around to offer them to the guests. There were barely any non-humans in sight, unsurprising considering the Empire's Human High Culture policy that barred many aliens from attaining positions of influence or power, but Luke managed to spot the distinct towering, two-horned form of the Emperor's Grand Vizier Mas Amedda and a few other well-known faces.

To the far side of the vast hall, up a few steps where the crowd respectfully thinned was a finely adorned throne. It was empty and Luke was grateful for that. He had no wish to ever meet the Emperor in person. Despite the Emperor's absence, a pair of crimson-clad guards were positioned on either side of the throne.

Luke tore his gaze from them. He threw Vader a glance, but he still seemed deeply in conversation with the aide. Luke continued to scan the crowd.

Not far away from him a red-haired woman with a stern short cut and wrapped in flowing white robes was eying him with interest. When Luke spotted her, she gave him a surprisingly warm smile. She started to walk over to them and Luke took a step toward her. But before she reached him, the familiar grasp of the gloved hand clamped around his shoulder again.

"Do I have to put you on a tether?" Vader snarled.

Luke glowered, but kept quiet. Once more he tried to reach out to Vader through the Force to let his father know about his unhappiness, but Vader's mind was still as tightly closed off to him as before. A sense of Vader's dark and dangerous mind lingered with Luke even after he had given up on his attempt.

A tingling feeling at the back of his mind caught Luke's attention. It was the same as he had felt earlier in the senate. He turned, prompted by the Force. There he was. Bail. He was at the end of the room, but he had spotted Luke first. Luke tried a small smile, but it froze on his face when he heard Vader growl.

Vader's grip on his arm tightened considerably, and this time Luke couldn't suppress a wince. He pulled Luke away from where Bail stood, but even after they had crossed half the room, Vader would not let him go. He steered Luke around the room like an obstinate dewback. His harsh grip around Luke's arm never let up.

The crowd parted with ease despite the room being packed to the brim. No one wanted to stand in the way of an irate Lord Vader. Finally, Vader's direction settled with determination on the tight knot of drab uniformed men standing together in a corner, far away from the delegation from Alderaan.

Luke's heart sank. This would prove to be a long evening.

ooo

"There, Senator. They are arriving. He… Stars ."

Captain Antilles' words made Bail's heart sink. He turned around to see for himself. Sure enough, the distinct form of Lord Vader was driving a wedge through the chattering crowd. And there, in Vader's shadow, was his son.

Bail had to smile despite himself. Luke had been dressed in robes just like his, down to the vambraces and the thick, black wool cape wrapped around his too-slight shoulders. He indulged himself for a moment, overlooking the obvious and deliberate provocation of decking the boy out like the father and the Imperial cog decorating the tunic and scarf, and just felt pride for his son.

Proud at how grown up he looked, how well he carried himself despite the situation he was in, despite being pulled through the crowd by Lord Vader himself. The wool cape fanned out behind him like his captor's as Luke marched through the room, his steps measured, his spine straight and his head held high.

He was almost out of sight, lost between the chattering crowd, when the boy turned his head and looked right at him. For another fleeting moment their eyes met before Vader whisked Luke behind one of the large pillars lining the hall. Bail's smile lingered on his face even after his son was out of sight.

ooo

Luke had heard Bail often adopt a Coruscanti accent whenever he was here during his senate meetings. He remembered that he and Breha had teased Bail about it whenever the stilted accent had seeped into his voice when they had spoken on the holocom while Bail had to stay on the capital planet or when it lingered even after his return home.

Now Luke could easily imagine why. It seemed that almost everybody around him tried to imitate the clipped and posh local accent to sound like they belonged to the court or at least were part of the capital's upper-class.

What pretentious gits, the whole lot of him, Luke thought. How could anyone stand this posturing and faked importance of the court?

Luke shifted on his feet. He was tiring fast from standing around with nothing to do. Vader's hand landed almost instantly on his shoulder to pull him closer again. For the whole time they were at the party, Vader wasn't paying him any attention nor did he speak any word with him other than to keep him close at his heel. Luke threw Vader a covert glance from the corner of his eyes. Vader was still radiating a barely concealed annoyance and Luke had the feeling it was anger at Luke's supposed disobedience.

It didn't stop Luke from keeping an eye out for Bail. Throughout the evening, he had tried again and again to see his adoptive father in the crowd, but from the corner he was boxed in, he couldn't spot him. It was oh so tempting to try and find Bail, if only to briefly speak to or touch him, before they would be separated by lightyears again for what could be months and even years. But Vader's dire warning echoed in Luke's ears and with Vader's foul mood, Luke would rather not test his father's patience right now. Instead, Luke tried to distract himself by watching the guests around them.

Lord Vader's presence was sure to attract a never-ending stream of dignitaries seeking to greet him and to curry favor with him. Not that they seemed overly successful, considering Vader's snappy retorts and barely veiled threats to keep the sycophants at bay. Maybe this was the reason why he had taken up position among the assembled officers as they seemed mostly content with standing in the Dark Lord's proximity and weren't engaging him in conversation. They sipped on their drinks, small talking about the latest military campaigns or glorifying the vicious tactics of the Emperor as if Luke wasn't even present.

Luke did his best not to listen. Instead he noted a greying man with a receding hairline, dressed in the drab colored uniform who approached them swiftly. "Lord Vader, a rare pleasure to see you here."

"Moff Tarkin," Vader acknowledged the man, inclining his head ever so slightly, and Luke remembered the name from the datapads that his father had given him. He was one of the Emperor's favorites, poised to take command of the despicable, planet-destroying battle station.

The man's watery blue eyes fell on Luke and a small smile quirked up the corner of his mouth. "But of course. It seems you aren't free to enjoy the evening while you are forced to perform babysitting duty."

Luke felt his own temper rise at the dismissive tones. He squared his shoulders and met the moffs gaze head on. He would not let any of them belittle him. The moff sized him up before turning back to Vader.

"I trust you have been briefed on the situation on Ryloth, Lord Vader."

"I have," Vader answered curtly.

"Governor Trowe will contain the uprising swiftly," another officer bellowed, his cheeks already flushed with the glow of alcohol. "Those savages are no match for the might of the Empire."

The broad-shouldered man spun and called with a booming voice for a servant to bring more drinks. He snatched the drink on the offered tray with a wide movement that almost managed to sweep the entire tray of glasses.

The moff set his mouth in a hard line, looking piqued at the officer's behavior but didn't say anything. Instead he turned his attention back to Vader.

"I am sure. Yet it is good that we will have cleaner and more permanent methods to deal with such incidents in the future," the moff said. His eyes fell on Luke again, eying him with the malicious intensity of a hawk-bat circling its prey. Luke forced himself to stand his ground.

A false smile curled up the moff's lips. "There is no room in the new order for old fashioned traditions and mentality. Every planet has to make sacrifices to ensure peace and stability, and if some do not want to carry their part of the burden then they have no place in this galaxy."

Luke balled his hands into fists, his temper slipping rapidly. He could still very well remember the moon-sized battle station that lurked in a remote system of the galaxy, ready to be handed into the hands of this cruel man, who was already itching to unleash it upon Luke's people.

Luke positively shook with anger. Again a heavy gloved hand fell on his shoulder, pulling him back. It didn't escape the moff's notice.

"I see that Lord Vader has you well trained," Tarkin commented, before turning away from him dismissively. Luke bit his lip to keep quiet. The moff instead turned back to the officer with the booming voice.

"Admiral, I would think home fleet is lacking the necessary leadership while you are planetside," Tarkin remarked, eying him with barely concealed disapproval.

"Nonsense, Captains Ornil and Torrin are more than capable of handling it on their own," the man thundered, gesticulating wildly so that he spilled half his drink. The Admiral took another deep gulp from the glass in his hands, even though he seemed to have had one drink too many. He turned to Takin and patted him on the back with enough force to make the Moff, who had just raised his own glass, swallow up a too big sip himself. Tarkin bestowed upon the admiral a look of utmost contempt.

Vader's hand on his shoulder gave him a small push. Vader steered him once again through the crowd. Luke hoped dearly that this meant that they were finally leaving. Perhaps Vader had had enough of this senseless posturing and babbling himself. The air in the hallway outside the ballroom felt refreshingly cool. Luke tried to let Vader feel his gratitude over their shared bond, but he aborted the attempt. Vader still seemed angry and Luke didn't want to test his father's fragile temper. So Luke let his father push him away from the party, hoping they soon could talk again.

But they didn't seem to be headed for the entrance hall and back to the speeder that would take them to the blissfully quiet apartment above Vader's military base. The noise of the party grew fainter until the only noise was their steps through the long, deserted corridors leading them further into the palace.

Vader was pushing him on with the same strong grip on his shoulder. His silence was unnerving. Once more Luke reached out with the Force, hoping to find a way through his father's tight mental shields, but Vader would not share any of his thoughts and feelings with him. He had no idea what had caused Vader's dark and dangerous mood, so he just hastened on to keep up with Vader's strides.

They stepped into a small turbolift and Luke turned to Vader, intent on asking him what was going on. Before he could do more than open his mouth, Vader's hand already pressed over his lips, silencing him. Luke stared with wide eyes, but when Vader released him he didn't dare to speak up.

The turbolift opened and Luke found himself in a long corridor lined with stone columns, with windows in between, the impressive night sky scattered with illuminated skyscrapers beyond the view panes. At the far end of the corridor, two royal guards clad in their usual crimson robes, force pikes in hand, stood unmoving, and Luke's steps faltered as comprehension slid home.

Vader shoved his hand against Luke's back to make him speed up again.

"Walk."

ooo