Truth 53 - Return of the Parental Unit

After reading "Compromising" (by Samvelg on Ao3, please go read this adorable Piett & Luke & Vader story) I fell in love with the use of Tatooine Slave Language, namely "Ipa" and "Em Vikka", which was credited to Fialleril's creation of the Amatakka language for their brilliant stories, including "Double Agent Vader" and more (see those stories here on FFN and on Ao3). So many thanks to Fialleril for creating and generously sharing the evocative dialect. I have borrowed those two terms.

OooOoo

"You bastard."

Luke shook his head, both in denial and because he had the horrible sensation of everything around him falling apart again. Like his life. Everyone manipulating him, controlling his life—

"It's over. No more. If you're going to die, you'll do without my 'help'. I won't be used by you again. I don't know your endgame or what you hope to do to me— or my father— but I'm not playing any longer." He was enraged by the betrayal and terrified by what he'd done, but the heat coursing through him froze when it struck the ice in his veins.

Yoda was silent, still sitting outside the cave, drawing lines in the dirt with his cane.

"Do you hear me? I'm done with your manipulation, with— whatever you're trying to do."

"Did to you nothing you have not done to yourself." Yoda slid off the log. "Failed you did, twice, in the cave, but learned also. A memorable teacher is failure."

Then you should have learned a lesson too, Jedi Master.

"Still willing are you to risk your soul for your father. Redeemed he will never be. Turn him back to the Light you cannot."

"Dark, Light— they don't matter." He was shaking with frustration and tension. "He's my father and I will always love him. That's what you don't understand." Luke pulled the lightsaber off his belt and pressed the igniter to check. Nothing. No red blade, no blade at all. That had been an illusion, too.

"Your father's saber you should not use. Corrupted it is."

"Maybe the blade is." His lips curled. "But my father isn't corrupted— he was damaged. What happened to him was done by the Jedi. By your neglect and endless criticism. You pushed him away, you never wanted him, you refused to train him, you abandoned him to Kenobi— who failed my father and did his damnedest to ruin my life too. You made the decisions, you directed the Council— you ruined his potential, you destroyed what he could have been— should have been. Fear, power, jealousy, whatever motivated you— If the Jedi disappear, it's on you."

"Wrong you are!" The little master waved his stick. "Your father… an aberration he was, never should have existed. The best we could, we did for him."

"Liar." The fire threatened to rekindle inside him, and he allowed the embers to sizzle even as he kept the flames banked. "Stop blaming him. It's over. There are no more Jedi. When you're gone, there will never be another to study or to train. You've failed, because I have learned from you, and what I've learned is that I don't want to be a Jedi."

Ears drooped. "Sith you must not—"

"I don't want to be a Sith either," he hissed. "I don't have to be a what, I'm a who, I'm a person, not a slave to the Force! That's not what my father wants for me— or for himself!"

Yoda's mouth turned down. "Think you not? Ask him yourself."

"I will!" If the day ever came when his father forgave him. "I've had enough. I'm leaving. Go ahead and die or not, I don't care and I'm sure as hell not helping you do it." His breath caught in his throat, remembering his desperation in the cave. "I don't care! Do you hear me?"

But Yoda was looking above him, dismay plainly displayed with the bend of his ears.

"I hear you… young one."

Luke whirled around.

And sighed.

Darth Vader. Fists planted on his hips. Big, dark, commanding and… an illusion….

"I'm still in the cave," he muttered angrily. "I'll never get out. I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life. And I'll probably live forever. I may as well have stayed on Tatooine and jumped into the Sarlaac's mouth."

"Do not indulge in melodrama. I have no patience for it."

Startled, he peered closely. An illusion wouldn't rip into his memory this deeply… or would it? Had it done that in the cave? Or not…? Cautiously, he reached out and touched Vader's arm. It felt solid. "Are you real?" he whispered. "Don't lie to me. I can't take it right now."

One gloved hand covered his own. "I am real, em vikka."

He'd never heard the words before, yet he knew them intimately. My son. "You're real!" He launched himself toward the massive chest.

A single strong arm wrapped around his back in a quick embrace, lifting him off his feet a few inches before lowering and releasing him. But the thick cloak swallowed him, seemingly swirling on its own volition. "You are a very strange child."

"I have a very strange father." He smiled tentatively, embarrassed by the memory of the scene behind those words, and ducked his head under the ridge of the helmet.

"Here, you should not be," Yoda muttered. "Not possible."

Luke sensed a grim smile behind the mask. "Nothing is impossible between a father and his son. If you had ever had a child, you would understand." One arm moved him to the side. "Now, old troll, as my son said: do as you will, die or not— but on your own terms. You are no martyr, and neither of us will assist you in committing suicide by Jedi. Em vikka, let us—"

Luke sneezed.

"Sorry… I think I'm allergic…."

The black cloak was offered to his face. "No thanks!" Suppressing a smile, he wiped his nose on his own sleeve. No doubt remained in his mind— this was his dad!

Vader gestured. "Let us go to your ship and—"

"Wait." He turned toward Yoda for the last time. "Thanks for… the good things that I learned. Maybe some of the bad things too. Good luck in the Jedi afterlife if there is one. If you end up in Jedi Purgatory, say hi to Kenobi for me." There was more he needed to say, but the day's disturbing events weighed heavily on him and he was too bitter and bewildered to sort out his feelings. "Okay," he said to his father, "I'm ready."

Still, as they walked away he couldn't help but turn around for a last look at the old Master. "And if you ever dare—"

Enough! his father snarled, and Luke subsided with a perplexed glance at him.

OooOoo

"Clean yourself."

His father sounded almost angry, but he had often been that way when they were together so this was the norm for him. On the other hand, Luke felt happier and more relieved than he'd been in months. No, he thought with a touch of melancholy. It was nearly a year since he'd been with his father anywhere outside their heads. He missed the physical contact… most of it. Not the choking or the hand shearing incident, of course, but being in his father's overwhelming presence evoked warm sensations of being part of a family, being wanted.

But now was not a time for sadness or reflection on the nightmare of his day. They were together for at least tonight and he was determined to enjoy their time. Showering off the mud quickly, he dressed in his black formal Jedi/Sith-ish clothes and hurried to the galley. A nerf steak— the last one stocked in the cooling unit— sizzled on a plate next to a pile of vegetables.

"You cooked? I mean… you cooked?"

His father ignored the questions. Indeed, there was no sign of heating equipment. Maybe the Force could broil a steak.

"You do not have milk."

He grinned. "I didn't know how long I'd be gone and how long it would keep and how to store it."

"Perfectly logical excuses for you," Darth Vader intoned. "Sit and eat. I will return shortly."

"What? Where are you going?" He dodged to block the hatchway. "You're not going to kill Yoda, are you? And you're not leaving!"

"I will allow no easy release for the troll. I am retrieving supplies from my ship so I may stay here tonight." The glove was smooth against his cheek. "Em vikka, do not worry so."

"You never called me that before," he stated but heard a question in his voice.

"I did, many times. You could not hear." A thumb rubbed his chin. "You and I have a different connection now. There will be better understanding between us… in more than words."

"Because I know more of the Force?"

"Yes. And of yourself. Your time away from me has been… worth the stress of separation." But there was uncertainty in the words. Vader's hand dropped and he seemed to visibly shake off misgivings, for which one of them Luke didn't know. "Eat. I will return shortly."

OooOoo

It was both comforting and unsettling to watch Darth Vader prowling around the ship, inspecting every inch. He stopped at the closet and a black gauntlet tugged a sleeve of the white robe. "So… this ship is the property of Princess Organa?"

"What? No. And you promised not to… use anything you learned from me against her." He straightened on the cushioned banquette. "We confiscated the ship from a smuggler. Why would you think it's hers?"

Wordlessly his father pointed to the "O" on the front pocket of the robe.

"That's for 'Oz'. The Alliance… did that for me." Oh… oh, stars! Thank the Force he hadn't put that on after showering. Vividly he pictured his father informing his son that he was parading around in a princess's robe.

His father's respirator made an odd sound, then Vader dropped the robe and crossed to sit next to him… at a 'respectful distance'.

However, Luke scooted over and rearranged himself against his father's shoulder, curling his fingers into the tabard and tucking his legs underneath him.

"What are you doing?"

"Well… sort of cuddling. Tolerate it. Pretend I'm five years old."

"That old?"

"Not much of a comedian. Keep your day job." He closed his eyes, satisfied to stay in this moment, accepting it wouldn't last long.

"You specified five." Vader hesitated. "Something happened to you then. What was it?"

"Oh." Luke tightened his grip on the fabric, pretending to smother his voice in it while surreptitiously rubbing his nose. "That was when Kenobi told me you were my father. That if I used the Force— not that I knew what it was or when I was using it, it was normal for me— that you would find me and kill me. Or make me evil like you."

"Five." His father's breathing hitched, and he could feel rage rising in the older man.

"Don't! Don't be angry, not when we're finally together. It's over, he's gone. We can't change the past, you've said that yourself." He hesitated. "Father… Yoda said that what happened to me in the cave was only what I'd already done to myself. Do you know what he meant? Was it a vision of the past or the future? I don't understand."

"Do not be disappointed in your lack of comprehension. In the...temple...half the time people just nodded and agreed when he spoke."

"Yeah, but—" He corrected after his dad gave him the Look. "Yes, sir, but… um…."

"What do you expect from me— an explanation? You are responsible for your thoughts and actions, no one else."

"I know." But the Darkness inside me… is it from you or did I create it?

"Answer your own questions," Vader snarled, then seemed to rein himself in. "Understanding will come in time."

"Okay. But why did you— I wanted to say more to Yoda, but you—"

"I stopped you from making a threat you could not fulfill. Still you do not understand my teachings."

He sighed. Boss had warned him about threats, too. "No, I don't understand. What difference does it make whether I threaten anyone or not? At least it gets people off my back." Except Yoda, who had enjoyed riding him and hitting him with the damn stick like they were in a race.

"A threat is a promise."

His breath hitched. "No, it's not." But it was, he saw that now. Oh, krit. "You mean if I threaten and don't follow through, I lose my honor?"

The helmet inclined. "Possibly."

"Great." It seemed like the list of acceptable things to say was getting shorter. "I'll be more careful."

"Is that a promise?"

"No, that's definitely a 'maybe'. I'll try, but I'm not perfect."

"Indeed. Also, it was improper that you were being disrespectful to your master."

"I was being disrespectful?! You called him a troll to his face. Twice." Coming from Darth Vader, that scolding sounded suspiciously like hypocrisy.

"Nevertheless, you were his student. A certain level of respect must be shown to your teacher. As well as to your father."

The threatening storm subsided, but Luke knew it was only pushed aside not vanquished. "Ipa…" The address came unbidden, though he felt like he'd said it a long time ago or maybe dreamed it. "Ipa, are you still angry with me? I ruined your plans for both of us. I'm sorry, I just didn't think."

"We are very alike in some ways," Vader said heavily. "We act on our emotions. I understand why you acted, though I remain disappointed."

Luke flinched. "Sorry…."

"I was not as disappointed in you as in the structure of my plan and my lack of foresight. I should have considered your irrational reaction to the threat to your new companions. But understand this: we will succeed with a new plan no matter the repercussions."

"Figured out a plan, have you?" Damn, did I just sound like Yoda again?

"Not completely. Luke, it was not totally my desire to sever our connection. It was necessary. The Emperor felt the Star's destruction and invaded my thoughts. He suspected betrayal. I could not risk his learning your identity as the pilot, or even that you were with the Alliance."

"Oh." A tremendous relief rushed through him. "I thought—"

"That I was angry at you. That is true. I still am." Vader shifted position away slightly, but wrapped part of his cloak around Luke, evidently indulging his son's need for closeness. "It will likely happen again in the future, so be prepared."

"What will happen, the anger or the no-speaking? Okay, I guess," he acquiesced when his father didn't respond. "But I hope neither of them happen." Reluctantly, he asked something else that had been bothering him. "Did he know that you could've saved the Death Star? Did he punish you?"

The silence dragged on so long that he knew the answer. "There is always punishment, child. That is why we must be cautious. I do not want you maimed or dead."

Luke swallowed, wondering what sort of tortures Palpatine inflicted on his father and how often. "I don't want you hurt either. I'll be more careful. I know that sometimes I'm reckless."

"I wonder from whom you inherited that gene?" Vader stroked his hair, and it occurred to Luke that maybe his father was as starved for contact as he was— Or was he simply mirroring his own needs onto the other man?

"Anyway… I'm sorry I messed up and you didn't get all the stuff you wanted."

"Vocabulary," his father warned, then sighed, though not unhappily. "As it turned out, I learned that the only 'stuff' I wanted was you."

Luke chewed his lower lip to keep from gasping. "That's probably the nicest thing you've—"

"Yes," Vader responded uncomfortably. "I trust you were pleased with the items I sent."

"Yes, everything was great, thank you! Except for the crystal. I mean… I thought I used it and fixed your lightsaber, but it was only an illusion. I don't know how to rebuild it."

"We can use some materials from this ship to build your own saber. I will supervise the construction before we leave."

"We?" he asked eagerly, pouncing on that one word. "We're going to leave together?"

"Unless you wish to stay on Dagobah, you are going back to the Alliance and I to the Empire."

"Oh." He frowned. "When? Not tonight?"

"So many worries, em vikka. Calm your heart. We have time. And now… included with your new education tapes, there are several that trace the history of the Sith from the beginning of their texts. Study them in detail. You will gain insight into the heritage of Darth Sidious and how we can use that infor—"

"Wait. Who is Darth Sidious?"

Vader paused. "The Emperor Palpatine. Do you not remember that?"

"No! Somebody forgot to mention it to me. So is 'Darth' a title?"

"Of course. We have discussed this before."

Luke sighed. "You talk a lot. I can't listen to everything."

"I suggest you begin using your ears for the purpose for which they are intended. You know I am his Apprentice." The Dark Lord shook his head. "Best you study the Sith tapes before any others. Lack of knowledge is not an excuse for ignorance."

"Well…." Luke bit his lip. "Then… Darth Vader is your title? Not your name?"

"Correct."

"Then…." He stopped, feeling tension rising in his father and understanding that he shouldn't utter the name of his first, lost self. Maybe there was another route. "I thought of calling myself Luke Skywalker-hyphen-Vader. No?"

"Not five minutes ago you said you would be more careful," his father chastised. "I regret that you dislike 'Oz', but any other name would attract the attention of spies and word would reach Sidious. Already you have been far too free with your words. You must be more—"

"Circumspect, I know." He sighed.

"If you cannot be, you may anticipate that I will correct your indiscretions."

Hmm…. He didn't want to dwell on that threat. "So… do you think Sidious has spies in the Alliance?"

"Of course. You must be wary. If you find one, contact me for instructions."

"How would I find one? They won't be wearing signs!"

"You will sense them. Luke, you do not appreciate the additional extent of your abilities. You will be more aware in many ways." Vader shook his head, not attempting to hide his aggravation. "Your life depends on your perceptions and observations."

"Okay, okay, don't get cranky." Time for a change of subject. "Speaking of spies, did you find your problem?"

"Yes," came the curt reply. "The problem no longer exists."

"I'll bet." A thought occurred to him. "Do you have a spy with the Alliance?"

"Seriously?"

Luke grimaced. "I mean, at the base where I am! Spying on me!"

"Why?" Vader's head drew back. "Are you worried I might receive negative reports regarding your behavior?"

"Nooo, not, uh, really. Nuh-uh."

"Good." Vader resettled. "Because you cannot begin to imagine how furious I would have been should I have learned that you had used spice or made a spectacle of yourself in public."

"Oh." He peeked from under his lashes and smiled. "I guess not furious enough to make me come home."

"There is nothing remotely amusing about your behavior." Vader pushed him an arm's length away and Luke thought he could feel actual heat radiating from the glare. "Never again. No spice ever."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not a big deal. Everybody does it."

"Would that be the same 'everybody' who directed the course of your life— Ben and Owen and Beru?"

"Of course not! I mean… everybody… you know, people."

"People like the barkeep who peddles drugs? People like your 'friend' who plied you with drugs and attempted to seduce you?"

"You are spying on me!" Luke accused.

"If I could trust that you would behave in your own best interests, I would not have to rely on second-hand information."

His indignation was replaced by embarrassment. "Anyway… nothing happened, it all worked out."

"For you. It did not 'work out' so well for the dealer or for your acquaintance who was traveling to Lah'mu."

"What?" Luke's breath caught. "What are you saying? Did you… did you hurt them?"

It was like talking to an obsidian statue.

"What did you do? He sent my message to Jovay! You have no right—"

Abruptly Vader stood and towered over him. "You still have not learned to respect my powers or my intentions. I do not wish to harm you, but for every transgression you commit, someone will feel my wrath. That is a promise. Do you understand?"

"What did you do?" Luke got to his feet and glowered up at the unreadable mask.

"This time I was lenient. This time is your only warning. Next time I will not be so forgiving." Vader shook his finger at Luke's face. "The blood of others will be the consequence for your destructive actions. Remember that."

He remained silent. This wasn't the father who visited in his head, who sat on the rings of a planet and the grassy fields of Naboo, the one who almost let him see his Anakin face. This was Vader again. What a blind fool he had been to think his old man was softening. Still… the feelings he sensed from his father were less of anger and more of fear and protection… protecting himself, as well as his son.

Out of nowhere came a great tremor that nearly sent him off balance. In the jungle trees and plants shuddered, and clouds rumbled with waves of thunder that crossed the sky slowly. And there was something else, something deeper that cried out with sadness and joy and pierced his senses.

He gasped. "Is that—?"

Vader jerked slightly. "He's gone. Finally."

Yoda. Luke shivered. "Should we leave? Is it safe here?"

"No, we're fine, child. The Force is neutral. It would acknowledge my loss in much the same way."

"Would it? But that won't happen for a long time." He tilted his face upward, unable to resist his deep feelings for Vader despite his frightening threats. "Yoda said he was nine hundred years old. Will you…?"

"Of course not. And I hope you didn't believe everything he told you. Nine hundred!" Vader made a disbelieving snort that made Luke laugh despite his near despair. He pushed his emotions aside— like his father had once said, emotions were inconvenient and unreal.

Or...wait...had Vader said that? Or was that his interpretation of something else entirely?

If only he knew how to banish feelings forever, life would be so much easier. Maybe Yoda could have taught him how—

He sneezed.

"Are you ill?" his father asked incredulously.

"Would it be weird if I was? No, I think I'm allergic. Is there a Force way to stop sneezing? Hopefully not the way you cured my hiccups."

"No, Son, but there is medication that can help you. Did you check the contents of the medical kit? There must be one onboard."

"Didn't think of that." Unexpectedly he yawned.

"You need sleep."

"No! I'm wide awake! I probably won't go to sleep at all tonight! Seriously, after what you said you think I could sleep?"

"I will still be here tomorrow and we will talk more, do not fret."

"I don't fret! I just don't want you to leave yet!" He assumed his favorite Vader pose, hands on hips and a scowl on his face. "And I'm pissed off! You can't go around threatening people just because— because—"

"Because they drug you?" Vader nodded toward the sleeping quarters. "Go to bed. This discussion is not over."

He frowned and stifled another yawn. "You bet it's not! And you'd better not try to sneak away or there'll be hell to pay."

Darth Vader assumed his own Vader-like pose, pointing his finger and snarling, "Go!"

"Okay." He smiled just a little, hoping to pacify the angry giant. "G'night… Ipa!"

The deep voice rumbled with an emotion Luke couldn't pinpoint. "Good night, em vikka."

OooOoo