Luke makes his maiden solo voyage for the Alliance and tries to decide what to do with Leia's blood sample.
(If you're interested, Luke's route is the Junction-Tierell Loop, shown in the starwars fandom dot com wiki)
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"You should have offered this information immediately when you arrived on base." Dr. Andres scowled at the read-out in his hand. "I would never have allowed a lung scan if I'd known there was any possibility you could have been pregnant."
"What?" Luke blinked. "What? I— What?"
"This sample was taken yesterday. Hopefully you haven't engaged in intercourse since then because you are ovulating and unprotected."
"I'm what? You mean like...I'm laying eggs?"
NO! Oh no no no no no! Possibility Number One on the list of reasons he shouldn't turn in Leia's blood sample as his own.
Luke finished stuffing clothes and protein bars in his pack and searched for a better potential scenario.
"In case of emergency surgical intervention, our records must be updated to indicate that you have both female and male reproductive organs and are—"
Uh, no. Surely they couldn't learn that information from a simple blood sample. Unless Leia…. No, wait, this was all his imagination, it wasn't real. Discouraged, he tried again.
"Well, your organic/energy ratio has changed. You are now only 35% energy. Has something drained your Force powers?"
Now that was something he could live with! There was no question that he was more powerful than Leia. He was his Father's Son. And he had a transfusion from his father!
Maybe he should ask his dad for another transfusion to get more Force, just to be sure.
But what if that's not what the blood sample said? What if Leia had more Force? No, no, that possibility wasn't even in the same galaxy.
He could find no way to turn in Leia's blood sample as his own without jeopardizing himself and revealing that he… well, that he had stolen her blood sample. And he couldn't even turn it in as hers, because if they found out she was another hybrid, that would be in the records and he would have to learn how to hack the medical computer system and remove that information before anyone saw it. Except Dr. Andres would see it, and Luke would have to kill him. And maybe the entire healthcare staff. Which is what his father would do. But not Luke. Luke would—
Sith-kriffin'-hell! What if his father found out about her blood and they actually were related? No. Just… no. There was no solution to this problem except to ignore it for awhile and hope for another brilliant idea.
When he was dressed— overdressed— in all his armor, he tucked the blood tube in his suddenly useful leather wrap belt. The blood would come along on his assignment while he considered other options. Like Leia said, it was already on file—
Oh. Maybe he did have to learn how to hack into computers. Unless the computer didn't know what the "unknown" part of her blood meant.
Right! Of course no one knew. They only knew about the Force because Luke had told them. There were probably billions of beings in the universe who had 'unknown' in their blood analyses. He'd only told Cris Andres. And General Rieekan and the two commanders. So if he didn't mention it again—
Today was the day he would learn to keep his mouth shut. How hard could it be?
With his hood pulled over his face, people didn't recognize him (or pretended not to) so he didn't have to explain why he was dressed like a bounty hunter tracking prey. He headed straight to the hangar to stash his bag and helmet in Yahoo before checking in with Command. There was a small cargo ship that was parked slightly over its designated space, its wing edge blocking Yahoo. It would serve the pilot right if he snapped off the tip… but he'd probably end up being the one who would have to repair it. Fine. He'd just use the Force to nudge the thing over as soon as he dropped his stuff inside—
His bracelet snapped at him.
Luke halted. He inched closer to Yahoo. The stinging grew sharper. They were tracking his ship?! They didn't trust him after all he'd done for them? Bastards!
He took a few deep breaths and unsealed Yahoo, then walked up the ramp and dumped his belongings. The warning signal was much quieter here. Experimentally he closed the entry— and his bracelet went quiet.
Of course. They couldn't gain entry to his magic ship, so they'd put a tracker on its hull. Luke exited and walked around Yahoo as he would for any normal pre-flight check. The tracker would have been unnoticeable without the zaps that shocked his wrist and increased in intensity until he reached the rear and saw the device attached behind a curved strut on the belly. Did they think he couldn't sense a tracker in a wide-open space like this hangar?
His first reaction was to yank it off and crush it in his fist. His fingers clenched, but he took no action.
He could pull it off and storm into Command, demanding to know why they were tracking him.
Or he could attach it to another ship and confuse them when the tracking went somewhere they didn't expect.
Which made him wonder: where did they expect him to go?
Well, duh. Obviously the Executor. The ship was close enough that he could make a detour. I'll never be further than one hour away from you, his dad had said and parked himself at Vaal.
Did they think he wouldn't complete his mission? Did they still wonder (not surprisingly, he supposed) about his loyalty? Or did they want to know if Darth Vader was on the Executor and calculated that if Luke took the Yavin Bypass to Vaal and wasn't fired on by the Empire, it would confirm Vader's location even if he didn't stop at the ship.
There was only one option. He left the tracker in place and headed to Command to help them ensure (ironically) that they weren't being monitored.
Narra leaned his chin on his hand, taking in the sight of his armor. "Expecting trouble?"
"I always expect trouble." That was a line of his dad's that bore repeating because it sounded fierce. He prowled needlessly around the room before declaring: "There's no spy device here. You're clean."
"Good. Thank you. Are you ready to go?"
No, I'm standing here, wearing this armor, it's 0750, and that's all a big coincidence. "Yes."
"Still determined to take your personal ship?"
"Yes." He wished Narra would mention the tracker. Tell him that it was for his safety, only there in case he needed help. But the commander didn't speak other than to say:
"It should take about three hours to get there. Have a safe trip. Be back by 1900."
Luke nodded and left, wishing he didn't feel disappointed. Although… maybe Narra didn't know. Maybe Rieekan ordered it. Or even Boss. Or...maybe Whatshisname, the spy kid. Maybe it was actually his dad tracking him.
Which didn't make sense. His father didn't need a device when they had their mental link.
Speaking of mental, he needed to slide that cargo ship over about two meters so he could get Yahoo out of its nook. He lowered Yahoo's ramp, then looked around the hangar. Across the expanse was a pile of crates that looked badly stacked. There was no one around it, so he gave a mental push and the entire tower toppled over. Everyone in the hangar looked that way, many of them heading for the 'crash site'.
Luke shoved the stubby ship like he had practiced in the Vjun castle. It was pretty simple really, and no one would notice the slight correction. And if someone did— so what? Maybe a hauler moved it. Or maybe it would remain a mystery without an explanation. Unless Commander Narra saw Luke and wondered.
Time to get the hell out of here.
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The Denarii Nebula sprawled between Yavin and Presbalin. He went straight through the far edge of it. He would've enjoyed a side excursion to Denarii Station to see what was there, but that would have lengthened the trip too much and he was in a hurry to explore Presbalin. Anyway, he really wanted to see what Yahoo could do. Just how much time could he cut out of the journey before he had to jump into the hyperspace loop?
Turned out, quite a lot! He was in Presbalin in under two hours. That gave him almost a full day to investigate the city, although what his dad said about Centralia didn't sound promising. Maybe he would be bored. Maybe he would end up spending his entire day studying and being bored.
The loading crew looked properly impressed (and intimidated) by him, and Luke was glad he had worn the armor. He loved appearing fierce. At first he tried to brave the cold in the hangar, but finally broke down and got the poncho. He worried that it subdued his fierceness, but he still looked like a warrior that no one would want to confront. He monitored the loaders' progress (slow) for a few minutes, then walked around the hangar to stretch his legs.
He looked around. Restless. He felt restless. Not his normal restlessness. It was more like something was… wrong. Something was here— or not here— that shouldn't be, and he couldn't suss out what it was. There was an emptiness. A chink in the galaxy. A blank spot, like a dark hole.
His heartbeat quickened. His mouth felt dry and he tried to swallow the fluttering in his throat. There was nothing and no one who could hurt him. He was strong. Invincible. Able to conquer any—
Unless it was Palpatine.
No no no. That was not possible. He would know. His dad would know. They couldn't be taken by surprise— No, that would never happen because they could lose everything. Lose each other. It had to be something else. Something… strange but nevertheless familiar.
Who or whatever it was, it was inside a shuttle that lurked in the farthest corner, silent. Obscured in this gloomy cavern of a bay, without even running lights to prevent another craft from hitting it. Ominous. Luring him. It—they— knew he was curious, that he would be pulled toward it like it was magnetized. Was it a trap?
The ramp was down. Luke stopped at the bottom, peering up. He didn't recognize the design of the hull, not the curved viewscreen, not the retracted guns or the obvious torpedoes. It was a warship— or a well-armed luxury passenger vehicle. The difference was not evident.
There was something alive inside. He could sense existence but not much else. It felt neither hostile or friendly; it was simply there. Was it a lifeform that was new to him? His fear coalesced into excitement. But he remained cautious. He slipped his hand under the poncho and curled it around the hilt of his lightsaber. He didn't want to draw it, not yet, in case the being was harmless and would react badly to his aggression.
Luke took one step onto the ramp, then another. And another.
And one more. He reached the entry. It wasn't huge inside, but he noted the rich textures of the interior walls and there was—
Someone. Behind. Him.
He swallowed and turned slowly.
And stared. What…?
It was a man and he was—
The Force exploded to life.
"DAD?!"
"Who else?" The voice was filtered through a vocoder, but it was different than the usual deep baritone. Familiar. A gentler tone that sounded more like his father without the helmet.
"I… Dad…!"
There was so much to see, he didn't know how to absorb it all at once. Blue, multiple shades of blue. A dark blue shirt with billowy sleeves clipped in by two black metal bands at each bicep and wrist. A lighter blue knee-length tunic sashed with pleated black leather that wrapped around his waist and part of his chest, presumably protecting and disguising the life support panel. It was decorated with brushed gold symbols— Luke didn't know what they were. Bars and a round medallion with a gold star in the center? Then a double leather belt that criss-crossed below the waist to hold weapons and the lightsaber (he assumed). Snug black leather gloves. And a cape— oh, the cape! It was huge and glorious and midnight blue and armorweave, secured on his dad's shoulders by pauldrons set with golden stars, draping along his arms all the way to the floor. And there was a humongous hood that enveloped his shoulders and cascaded halfway down his back.
Luke's mouth was hanging open unbecomingly. He knew it and didn't care. There was a helmet— It was perfect! He knew it was one of his dad's regular helmets, but no one else would. The flared sides had been filed off. The entire thing was coated with metallic gold that had been burnished to dull the shine and inset with wide strips of black leather, molding his father's head so it was wrapped all the way around in a perfect oval. A swirl swept across his mouth, disguising his vocoder and breathing apparatus. A translucent midnight visor shaded his eyes, revealing only enough to prove there was a person behind it, and above it was another metal visor that could be pulled down to hide even that knowledge.
"I…." Luke struggled for something to say. "You…. You're taller than I expected, my lord."
Vader laughed— he actually laughed, and it sounded like a laugh! "I couldn't leave the ship appearing four inches shorter."
"Yeah. Well…." He couldn't stop staring. "Maybe you don't need to be shorter after all. You look…."
"Fabulous?"
Luke grinned. "Exactly!" He took two steps before faltering. "Can I hug you? I don't want to wrinkle anything. And… and you look so… regal."
Vader held out his arms. With an exclamation of pure happiness, Luke fell into them. "Ooh, this is super soft!" He rubbed his face against the tunic and shirt. They were silky, but he could feel his dad's armor underneath them. "I need this outfit, too! We should match."
"As if I didn't already know that," his father scoffed.
"You got me something like this?!" Then, not wanting to appear greedy: "But nothing could be better than the surprise of seeing you!"
"I know." Before Luke could roll his eyes, embarrassed by the sentiment, Vader added: "I feel the same way."
Awww…. Luke melted a little deeper into the embrace, worming his head under the big cloak, hiding like a child. "I don't know why I miss you when we meditate every day and pretend that we can touch each other. But this is different."
"It is," his father hummed contentedly, one hand holding his head while rocking him gently.
"Gold stars," Luke murmured as he nuzzled, and got a mouthful of silk for a reward. He spit it off his tongue, hoping his dad didn't notice. "Blue and gold stars like I dreamed about."
"Yes." His father hesitated, and a faint quiver rain through him. "I found that… maybe I enjoy making your dreams come true."
He blinked a few times. "Me too," he admitted shyly. "Your dreams, I mean. I want you to be happy."
"I am happier now than in any dreams I had before I found you."
"Yeah." This was getting too emotional, and he didn't want his dad to cry. And maybe not himself either. "You scared me!" he accused. "You blocked your Force! I couldn't feel you."
"My son, I am so sorry, so terribly sorry that I distressed you. How can I expect you to ever forgive me?" His father pushed him back and placed one hand on his heart. "Please. I am, alas, filled with abject remorse for having deceived you."
Luke tried to frown but couldn't manage it. "That did not sound even remotely believable, Lord Vader. Keep your day job."
"I fully intend to. Come." One hand grasped the back of Luke's neck as his father directed him to a seating alcove.
"So what's the plan?" he asked eagerly. "We have hours until I have to leave. Unless you don't want me to leave. Well… I probably shouldn't defect with their supplies. Plus I left all my clothes behind."
"Fortunately I have new clothes for you, but they remain in the Executor. For when you join me."
Luke tilted his head. "Uh… I wasn't exactly serious. I mean… you know. Not yet. Right?"
A noncommittal chuckle was the response. "I brought along two items for you."
Luke straightened. "Really? What?! Clothes like yours?"
"Do you seriously think clothing like this would be appropriate at your Rebel base?"
He felt scolded and pouted a little. "I guess not."
"Good, we agree. Your new wardrobe will await you on the ship. But to tide you over until then…." Vader handed him a small box.
Bouncing slightly on the cushion, Luke opened it and held up— "Gold gloves!" He rolled sideways, laughing, then righted himself and wriggled his fingers into the gloves, tugging and smoothing them up to his wrists. "They're so soft." He rubbed his hands against his cheeks.
"Yes. They are made from the hide of young shaaks."
"Oh." Like Berrie. Well… okay. "I love them, thank you for remembering!"
"More like 'indulging'," Vader rumbled, sounding like his old self for a moment. "Also, I see you already have a poncho, but it may not be warm enough for—"
Luke grabbed the package and ripped it open. Blue! Gold stars! He stood and yanked off the boring poncho and swirled the new one over his head, tugging it down. "It's gorgeous!" It was heavy and velvety and lined with black armorweave, which he supposed he should expect all the time. There were three golden stars that ran atop one shoulder to his throat, acting as a closure.
"You may leave it for me to take back or you can keep it in Yahoo," Vader suggested. "I know it's too hot for Yavin."
"Yeah, but it's great for here! This is much warmer than the other one!" He stroked the sides, then dropped next to his father to throw his arms around him again. "Thank you, Dad!"
"You're welcome, little one."
That nickname used to irritate him, but now he understood how his father meant it. He would probably be his dad's 'little one' even when he was thirty! "How long can you stay? Can you stay all day? Can we do stuff?"
"We can do 'stuff'," Vader confirmed. "I have plans for us, and I want to talk to you about our future. And, because I know how needy you are, I will take you to lunch."
"Great! And to the bank." He added quickly, "I don't need much, just enough for a few things at the base exchange, and it's really hard to get credits from my account there."
His father drew back. "Surely you haven't tried that?"
"No. Should I not?" He tugged at the poncho uncertainly. "The commanders said it would work, but that the exchange rate wasn't good."
"I'm sure it isn't," Darth Vader said dryly. "Now let us check up on your loading crew and then satisfy your stomach, because I am certain that is the source of the loud noises I am hearing."
Luke wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, sorry. Where are we going? What kind of food do they have here? Have you been here before? You said the shopping district wasn't—"
"Stop chattering," his father instructed as they descended the ramp. "Remember that you are fierce."
Yeah! Fierce Sky Ozoner Laze Loneozner Luke Lars Skywalker-Vader! Which reminded him: "I'm Sky Ozoner on this trip."
"Of course you are."
Luke decided he only imagined that his father sighed.
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NOTE: I made a little drawing of their new outfits. Can't publish it here, but it's on Ao3 in Part 12, Chapter 6 of The Truth (by Seasider). WARNING: I'm not an artist!
