More father-son bonding before Luke heads back to the Yavin base. And, because he's Luke, he has a wee adventure on the way.

# # #

"Don't think I didn't notice you bought a fluffy that's an offensive replica of me."

"Offensive? It's adorable! It's my own little Darth Fluffy."

"Hrumph. Where's the rest of your armor?"

"It's right here! I'll put it on when I—"

"You will put it on now. I will buckle the gloves for you."

"I'm gonna wear the gold ones instead."

"No. The gold ones aren't armored."

"Daaaad! It's only two hours—two! I don't need armored gloves to fly!"

"You never know what emergencies might arise. Be sure to remove the monitor from Yahoo. Also, remember to begin storing some of your clothing in the ship in case you need it. And don't eat all those snacks."

"I won't! They're for the guys!"

"And get your next lung scan tomorrow. And please don't immediately blurt that you want to meet with the Council urgently or they will suspect that you saw me today."

"Why is that a secret?"

"Because I said so. Also, I know you still haven't watched the entire personal tape I gave you."

"How do you— Okay. I didn't feel like watching the war stuff."

"Indeed? Even though it's clips of me during the Clone Wars?"

"You? You didn't tell me it was you!"

"I judged that some of my exploits were worthy of being included for your viewing."

"You could've told me! Hey, speaking of death and destruction— what was that about destroying the first Death Star? There was an earlier one? One of the generals said something about it when I was eavesdropping on them when...uh… they were still alive."

"Ah. Yes, there was a Star under construction many years ago. It had an unfortunate malfunction. Sabotage was suspected, but nothing was ever confirmed."

"Huh. Why would 'someone' sabotage it?"

"This is all speculation, Bug, but perhaps someone thought it was exceedingly immoral and an unnecessary destruction of resources as well as sentient species."

"Sabotaging it sounds like a Jedi thing to do."

"There were no Jedi at that time. Or rather, none that were in a position to take action. And do not presume that every honorable action can only be accomplished by Jedi. Now finish your pre-flight check."

# # #

It was time for him to leave but still they lingered, unwilling to say good-bye. "Do you want to talk about… you know. How it will be when you don't need the respirator."

"I spent years breathing without one, Bug," the Dark Lord said drily. "I think I remember how to do it."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know." One fist clenched as his dad gazed blankly around the interior. "I will be relieved to be without it, but the irony is that I must continue to wear it as long as I function as Vader."

"But you can adjust it so it only makes the sound but doesn't force air, right?"

"Another technological miracle I must create."

Even though his father grumbled, he could hear his interest in the challenge. "You've created a lot of miracles in your life, Dad, although the most important one wasn't technological." He waved his hands in razzle-dazzle just in case his father didn't get the message.

"Yes, Luke." Vader pinched his cheek, chuckling. "Now get going. Surprise your commanders. And don't forget to take that monitor off Yahoo."

"Dad! You must think I have a really short memory!" Luke grinned through the dejection he felt at leaving his father. "Let's do lunch again sometime!"

"Only a few weeks, Bug, until you're on the Executor, and then…." Vader hesitated.

"What?"

The older man squeezed his shoulder. "While you're on the base, take time to consider if you wish to return there after my surgery."

His mouth felt dry, and he tried to swallow. "You mean…?"

"You may prefer to stay with me on the ship. Or circumstances may necessitate it."

He didn't know how to answer. It was about more than being with his dad, which he wanted. But now he had friends and the camaraderie of working in the hangars and joking with other mechs and Kodra and lessons and freedom to be outdoors and explore and run and jump. "I… well, I have clothes there. And a great new mirror." What would he be on the Executor? Even if he had freedom to roam the ship, who would he be?

The hand slid up his neck to his cheek. Luke leaned his face into it. "You have much to consider, child. If you prefer not to be with— on the ship yet, I will understand. You have a moderate degree of independence now, as much as your commanders and your duties allow. Being on the Executor may allow you more freedom, but you would also have many responsibilities and expectations. Some decorum would be required, and I know how challenging that is for you. On the plus side, we would be together and could perhaps have more days like this one."

"Playing hooky?" He plucked at the wrist of his right glove. "I don't think this is tight enough."

Vader allowed his segue from the uncomfortable topic and tugged at the buckle. "Just consider it, Luke. I will not pressure you further." His dad stepped back. "Have a safe trip, Commander."

Commander. Sure, no pressure, none at all. He watched his dad walk down the ramp without turning around, biting back a request for a second hug. He didn't want to seem needy again. Besides, he was nearly an adult and— and—

Well, crap. If being an adult meant facing such a big decision, he'd rather not grow up any more. Maybe he could find an age reversal drug. "C'mon, Yahoo, let's go."

Your ship does not respond to verbal commands.

It should! He smiled at the reminder of the first flying lesson his dad had given him. With a final virtual hug through their bond, Luke sealed Yahoo and they took off.

# # #

Hyperspace was boring but, under Galactic Rule #1 (If Something Can Go Wrong It Will), he came out of hyper only to get a shot across his bow mere seconds later.

"Seriously?" He didn't need a scanner to see the frigate that had struck out because it was sitting off to his left. It was an Interceptor, which meant its armament was far inferior to what he carried on Yahoo.

What's going on? his father demanded.

"Good evening, you cute unidentified luxury cruiser, you," a cheerful voice greeted. "How are you this fine day? You look like you could use some help."

"Do I? No, I don't think so." Too bad the person sounded nice. Oh, well, he supposed anybody, even Palpatine, could sound nice when they wanted to.

Nothing I can't handle, Dad.

"Looks like you need to be relieved of that pretty ship before it's covered with scorch marks from our cannons."

Huh. "You're mistaken. I am Commander Yahoo from the Intergalactic Union of Planets Peacekeeping Force in this sector, and I instruct you to stand down and prepare to be boarded." Maybe that would scare them off.

There was a long pause, then: "I don't think so, kid." The ship moved to face him and fired another warning shot that probably did scorch Yahoo.

Kid? How could they tell he was young?! Luke frowned. And they were not going to hurt Yahoo! "Well, I warned you. Too bad, so sad!" he sing-songed as he zeroed in on their hull, then let loose a string of volleys from his laser cannon— sort of intending only to disable them but not stopping until… oops.

The ship disappeared in an explosion of sparkles that was surprisingly satisfying. "One less hijacker in the galaxy!"

Good work. His dad's ship shot out of hyperspace behind him.

Are you following me? He Sent amusement and felt it answered.

Only this far. We part ways now, little one. For a short while.

Kid. Little one. Where was the respect he was due after all his hard work? Where was—

Fierce little one, his father added before his ship turned and streaked away.

# # #

It was fun to surprise the commanders. He was back a whole hour early! Luke frowned and wondered if that had been wise. What if they expected him back early from now on?

Narra was munching on something, probably the remainder of dinner on the run, overseeing Dreis (who looked like he didn't appreciate being overseen) directing the rearrangement of a couple fighters. They both turned to watch Yahoo slide in gracefully. Luke tucked it into the same space it had been, which was now his space and everyone else had better stay out, just like they stayed off his place on the sofa.

Much as he wanted to model his new poncho for the guys, he decided to leave it on board and try showing more decorum. Also because of decorum, he decided to remove Darth Fluffy from the pilot's console and tuck him out of sight in a cubby, although he did loop the bags from Toodoodles over his arm. He lowered the ramp and walked around Yahoo while awaiting the arrival of the team to unload it. There was a long scorch mark under the cockpit. Bastards! They'd deserved to die! Well, he'd clean it off when he wasn't wearing his good clothes. He palmed the tracking device and tucked it in his belt, then greeted the crew and began to compare his manifest with theirs as they unloaded.

"You're back early." Boss was officially on duty now, but Narra was still hovering at his shoulder. "Will you get off me?" Dreis muttered to the other officer.

"I know." Luke managed to keep a serious expression.

"Good trip? No problems?" Narra chirped, earning an irritated sound from Boss.

"Yeah, fine. Except for being attacked by a hijacker on the way back."

"What? Pirates again?" Dreis and Narra exchanged scowls. "Dismantling the tracking device should have prevented them from knowing our schedule! Damn."

"It was probably random. They were waiting at a hyper-route exit." Luke shrugged. "Anyway, I eliminated the problem, so you don't need to worry about those particular pirates." He pulled the tracker from his belt and tossed it toward Boss who reached out reflexively to catch it. "Although… maybe they were following this one."

Boss frowned and Narra winced. "That wasn't our idea."

He waited, but they made him ask. "Whose was it? Rieekan?"

The two commanders exchanged a look. After a hesitation, Boss shook his head. "Mon Mothma. She was concerned about—"

"The safety of the Alliance Council," Narra said bluntly. "Before she calls a meeting."

Luke turned away to finish the checklist and hand it off to an ensign. "Thanks." He regarded them again. "What did she expect to learn? That I would run off somewhere and… do what?"

"I don't know that she expected anything in particular." Dreis frowned. "We— Rieekan too— told her it wasn't necessary, but she needed to see for herself. As usual."

"Hmm. Good thing I didn't go somewhere other than Presbalin." He straightened and smoothed his tunic. "I'm going to change. And please…." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Don't waste your time and equipment like that again. Remember that I can detect monitors. If I'd wanted to divert somewhere else, I could have disabled it. I didn't. I'd appreciate some trust and respect because from here on out, things will be getting more serious."

He left them with that thought and headed for the barracks. How was THAT for decorum, Dad? But he didn't Send the thought in case bragging wasn't considered decorumness… decoramy… decorous.

Time to check the language tapes.

As he crossed the base glaring at the dirt because it kicked up dust, a few people nodded to him. Go figure. Narra was right that he'd made friends— even though he hadn't known when he was doing it. Must be his razzle-dazzle personality.

Unless one of them was his dad's snap-spy and not a friend.

In front of Rogue barracks he stopped, wondering how he should enter. Why was this a problem so often? If he was himself, he would bound inside, chattering about his experiences. If he was Oz, he would be cool and nonchalant like he made solo trips every day. If he was the 501st Honorary Commander, he would be solemn and professional. If he was Luke Vader, he would— Well. Not sure what he would do then.

"Having another talk with your invisible friend? Or your father?"

"No." He smiled at Cris Andres. "Just having a… an existential crisis." That had been said by a character in a holo-soap yesterday. He wasn't totally certain what it meant or if it applied to him at this moment, but he figured most of his life had been one crisis after another, so it probably had applied at some point.

"I'm sorry to hear that." The doctor looked his usual scruffy self, but for no apparent reason he'd added a purple belt to his hideous outfit.

Luke sighed. "It's okay. Same old stuff."

"I haven't seen you all day. You look like you were on a mission. Where to?"

Couldn't a guy wear armor without people pointing it out? "If I told you I'd have to kill you." He relented when Cris's smile faltered. "Kidding. It was only a supply run."

"I was worried for a second there." The older man grinned. "Must have been quite a distance. It took you all day."

"Nah. Slow loaders, and I wasn't in a hurry." Was the doctor prying? And had he ever told Andres that he talked to his dad in his head? He didn't think so, but supposed it was a logical conclusion since the doctor knew his father was a Jedi and Luke could talk to people in his head. Still….

"Hi, Sir!" He pretended like he hadn't just spoken with Commander Narra who was approaching.

The commander nodded. "Captain. Oz."

"Commander." Andres smiled. "Glad you made it back safely, Luke. Good evening."

"I'll stop by tomorrow for my lung scan," Luke called and watched him leave.

Narra watched him watching. "What is it?"

He bit his lower lip. "Nothing, I guess."

The commander waited a moment before asking: "Are you going inside or standing out here all night?"

"Inside." He sighed dramatically. "But I haven't decided who I should be."

Narra tilted his head, lips quirked. "Be yourself, Luke."

"Yeah, well… myself annoys a lot of people."

"Then that's their limitation, not yours."

He sent a reproachful look toward his commander. "I annoy you sometimes."

"My limitation, not yours."

But I'm the one who bears the brunt of it.

"And I apologize," the commander said unexpectedly. "I'll try to be more understanding."

"Do or do not. There is no try."

One eyebrow raised. "Darth Vader?"

Luke snorted. "No, Yoda. He was a very rigid teacher."

"Ah, a curmudgeon?"

"That too. And a martinet. And grumpy and cranky."

"Sounds delightful."

Luke wobbled his head a few times. "Well, he was really old, I suppose that's what happens."

Narra chuckled. "I'm afraid to ask what 'really old' means to you."

"Stars, he must have been like 900 or a thousand! He said he'd been teaching for 800 years." He groaned. "Imagine! Eight hundred years' worth of Jedi had to put up with him!"

The commander opened his mouth, but no words came out until he finally managed: "Yes, that would be defined as 'really old'."

"Yeah." He paused on the bottom step to the barracks. "Hey, does the Alliance vet officers?"

Narra frowned. "Newcomers, yes. If they've risen through the ranks as volunteers, not necessarily. Why?" He cast a look back over his shoulder even though Dr. Andres was out of sight. "Are you suspicious of the doctor? He's relatively new, but he checked out."

It wouldn't be fair to say 'yes' when he wasn't exactly suspicious. More like… vaguely concerned. "I don't think so. I mean… I looked into his background, and everything seemed okay."

"Let's go inside then." Narra directed him to go first, and Luke decided to be himself because that was the easiest person to be.

He flung open the door. "I'm back!"

The others were doing their usual boring things. Cards, holo, reading. Didn't anyone ever go for runs or exercise? The place needed to be livened up. He tossed the bag of goodies on the table. "I brought treats! Sugar!"

Yeah, that distracted them, even breaking up the game. "You're welcome," he called when they descended on the snacks.

"Thanks!" a few called.

"Porkins, heads up!" He threw the second bag to Jek. "A present for you!"

"Chanilla?" The bag was ripped open. "Oh—hey! It's a varactyl!" Jek's grin was wide and toothy. "All mine! Thanks, Luke!"

"You're wel—"

"What else have you got there?" Wes interrupted. "Clothes?"

"Not exactly. A hairbrush. And these." Luke dug into the third bag and pulled out the gold gloves for inspection.

Wedge chuckled. "Now all you need is a place to ice skate."

"I saw ice skating! I really want to do that someday." He decided to forgo asking the commander about the availability of a morgue on the base since Narra might think he wanted to practice blowing up bodies instead of making an ice floor. Although there was no reason he couldn't do both. "And I saw hail and snow and I had a snowball fight and I made a snow bird!"

"Glad you had time for recreation," Hobbie commented neutrally. "What's a snow bird?"

Such ignorance! "You know! You fall in the snow and flap your arms and legs, and when you get up there's a bird."

"Oh." Wes grinned at Zev. "And you didn't get any more clothes? I'm disappointed."

"Well…. Okay, the poncho wasn't warm enough so I got a heavier one. And I'm leaving it on the ship," he added quickly, because he was feeling possessive of the wrap that his dad designed for their uniform. "That's all."

Wedge unwrapped a chocolate bar and spoke while chewing. "Where did you see ice skaters? Was there a frozen pond? I remember a lake near home that froze sometimes in the winter." He looked nostalgic for a moment before taking another bite.

"No, it was in a restaurant. They had an ice floor."

"An ice rink," Zev corrected absently. "What kind of restaurant has a—"

"Oh!" Janson exclaimed. "Was it T'Ambora? I saw that on an Exotic Eats show!"

"I guess." It was, but he decided to play ingenuous.

"They had weird food— and it was super-expensive! I mean, really expensive!"

Everyone looked at Luke. "Uh… I didn't eat much. But it was good. I'm gonna get out of these clothes." This was shaping up to be a Night of a Thousand Questions and he was over it.

By the time he'd showered and redressed in the outfit he called 'Sithly Casual', the sugar had done its trick. The card game had been abandoned, the snacks were gone, and music was playing on a new audio system. Janson was dancing, sort of, flapping his arms around like a bird, and Hobbie was stomping on the floor which Luke assumed was his 'style'.

"I need dancing lessons!" he announced.

"Great, then you can teach Hobbie," Zev said. "But who's going to teach you?"

"Master Kodra, but he doesn't know it yet." Luke tried a pirouette, but thought it was more like a kata than dancing. "I hope he knows how. If not, I guess we'll learn together, because I need more moves than this!"

"Our needy boy," Wes commented, breathless.

"You're out of shape," Luke retorted. And what was with the 'needy' stuff all of a sudden? Was that what he projected? "My dad says I'm a bottomless pit of need."

Porkins snorted. "Well, if DAD says so, it must be true. Besides, you're the only person in my life to give me a varactyl, so you can be as needy as you want!"

"Thank you," he replied with dignity and decorum as he tried a leap-and-spin that turned out pretty darn well.

"Bottomless pit of need?" he heard Commander Narra mutter under his breath.

Luke smiled. Scored another point in his campaign to humanize Darth Vader!

# # #