It was supposed to be a simple mission.
Luke reminded himself of this simple fact yet again and mourned for the loss of his mission's simpleness.
Because it had barely been a few months since Bespin and already he was far too close to Darth Vader yet again. Couldn't he get a break?
That wasn't the fairest assessment of his situation, but Luke couldn't care less that it was a medical vessel they were attacking instead of the damn Executor; it was still Vader. Vader, because who else would fly a TIE Advanced out of said medical vessel and start fighting a squadron of X-Wings by themself?
And that didn't even take into account the usual aura of 'I-shall-destroy-everything-you-have-ever-loved' which was unmistakably Vader.
Luke scowled out from the cockpit towards the blip which was the TIE fighter, only visible as a flicker when it passed before stars, blocking out the steady lights in a trail. Already two of his men were down, the husks of their ships debris.
They had come just for the large ship below him, with precious medical supplies and expensive bacta. There wasn't supposed to be any troops aboard, let alone the Emperor's Fist! It was a simple mission, to help him get back into the flow of things after Bespin.
Of course, what had caused all of his Bespin problems in the first place just had to be present during his first mission! Yoda had never said anything about Jedi having such awful luck.
No point brooding over it. Luke shook his head and gripped the stick harder, gave a sharp twist which sent him spinning towards where Vader was leaving a trail of blacked-out stars. He ordered the squadron into position, watched as yet another ship exploded, bobbing and weaving for nothing.
And then Vader was coming for them, head-on in a strafe over the formation, so fast it left barely any time to manoeuvre away. The formation they had only just slipped into working against them as pilots tried to dive away from raking green lasers. Luke cursed under his breath and pulled up the moment Vader had passed overhead. He flipped over and screeched after the TIE, felt the invigorating thrum as his engines roared into the vacuum of space.
Luke's eyes narrowed, he was right behind the Imp, could see the lines where metal was soldered and bolted together. Held down the trigger without hesitation and bolts of red shot out. He was so close that there were only scant metres for them to cross before hitting the TIE, but Vader dodged. Somehow. Luke kept firing, twisting and rolling to try and match impossible stunts that sent him rocking in his chair, stomach twisting. One bolt had to have hit!
Apparently not.
Another X-Wing shot in from the side, lasers raking towards the TIE. It ducked under, spinning and then was up, arcing to follow the ship and Luke cursed.
"Do not engage!" He yelled into the comm. "He'll kill you!"
A huff over the line. "And just let him kill you? No offense Luke, but even Jedi need help taking on Vader."
They didn't understand. Vader might not kill Luke, but wouldn't hesitate to murder everyone else. He couldn't tell them, because if no one knew, perhaps the Imp had been lying. That's what they did, wasn't it? Just some ploy to try and turn him to the Dark Side. It wouldn't work. He wouldn't let it. But, whilst Vader seemed to think that it might, or believed that Luke was his-… Then he'd go easier on him, was less likely to kill him. At least that's what the Rebel hoped.
And his warnings went unheeded. The fighter that had swooped in was now being hounded by the TIE, green lasers already cutting into wings and leaving gouges in the metal. Luke gripped the stick harder, knuckles going white and sped after Vader, finger on the trigger. But no matter how close he was, how sure he was of a hit, the TIE was always unmarked, with no signs of any sort of mistake, effortlessly dancing away from where Luke could get him.
It didn't take long for another explosion. Metal shards clattered against his fighter, the thuds as his X-Wing powered through debris. Luke hoped that none of it was the remains of his pilot, that there wouldn't be streaks of blood on the metal when he landed. If he landed.
Others roared in. Overhead, to the sides and below, all perfectly in time to fire off their shots and be out before the next strike, avoiding friendly fire by moments. Luke didn't understand how the TIE was still flying. So many of the bolts should have landed, but each one was miraculously avoided.
Then suddenly there was no black ship before him. He looked up to see it looping overhead.
Insectoid, blank eyes met his. The shining dome and triangular grate. A death's head mask.
Luke hadn't seen it since Bespin, and the sight made his breath grow daggers, stick in his throat.
But it only lasted barely a second. He jerked the stick away, spun through space. He couldn't let that TIE get behind him. Couldn't. Despite how a quiet, logical voice told him that Vader was unlikely to kill him, there was a sort of instinctual fear which had overridden it with ease.
Because that was Darth Vader and he'd been hunting Luke tirelessly for three years.
"Oh sh-" He was cut off as an X-Wing soared over his cockpit, so close he could see the carbon scoring along its bottom. And then a prompt explosion. It rocked his small fighter, more pieces of metal scraped against the hull, screeching, and he shivered at the sound raking into his eardrums. Glanced behind him to see the TIE, closing in behind him.
"Luke!" His comm crackled to life. "Luke, he's behind you!"
"Noticed, thanks!"
A roll, bank up until his back was being shoved into his seat so hard ribs started creaking, vision going dark. Quick flip over and Luke was powering down again, glanced back and it was still there. He grabbed the thruster and yanked, until he was at a standstill vastly removed from the intense speed of moments before.
Vader wasn't fooled. He slowed right down too, as if mocking his pathetic idea of what dogfighting was, but then shot past the X-Wing. Without firing a single shot. Luke remorselessly shoved that thought away.
And explosions, behind him. Pangs through the Force as more lives were snuffed out.
Luke pushed on the thruster, swung his fighter round, ignored how his stomach twisted at the new debris, how his ribs seemed to be constricting against his lungs. There was no way he could fight this.
They needed to escape.
Even with Vader seeming not to want to kill him, he couldn't imagine any possible way they could do it; come out of this with Rebels still alive.
"Retreat," He said into the comm. It was an order that should have come sooner. Should have been out of his lips the moment there was a TIE Advanced flying out of that med ship. Should have been seven lives sooner.
Protests from his remaining pilots, but Luke was not swayed. "Retreat! I'll cover you."
"Vader'll kill you!"
The Rebel huffed out a laugh, tried to do his best impression of Han at his cockiest. "Me? Nah."
"But-"
"I'm making that an order, Red Two. Get out of here."
And he felt their presences begin to blink away, pulled somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere safe.
Before him, Vader twisted this way and that, lazily spiraling towards the X-Wings as they got ready to make the jump to hyperspace. But then Luke was there, lasers sparking into the space right where the TIE was about to go.
In moments, there was only one X-Wing left; the one containing Luke.
Whatever pretences Vader had been holding whilst there were others to witness their fight vanished. He fired no lasers, not even when they would obviously miss and simply dodged away from every single attack his opponent attempted.
They danced like that until Luke was sweating from exertion, arms aching from swinging his stick every which way.
And in the moment he was still, a laser came out of nowhere. He didn't even see it. Just a jolting through his ship, then the unmistakable stench of smoke. A systems check revealed what had been hit; his hyperdrive. It was completely fried. So damaged that the computer didn't register it as being an attached piece of machinery. Even Artoo would have been unable to help in this situation.
"Damnit…" Luke muttered. He was going nowhere.
Vader pulled level with him, only a metre between the two ships and looked over. Luke would bet his non-existent life savings that the mask was hiding an annoyingly smug smirk.
A few moments with them floating side-by-side.
Then a mockingly upbeat blooping from his computer, with 'incoming call' cheerfully displayed on the screen.
Luke stared at it, incredulous.
There was only one person it could be, and he really didn't want to answer.
So. Luke scowled, gripped the controls and flung his ship into Vader's.
~Skywalker Family Drama, Brought to You by PalpyVPN With More After the Linebreak~
When he regained some sense of whatever was going on around him, all Luke could see was white.
A white light, glaring down at him from above. White walls, surrounding said light. And when he lifted his arms, the right ended in a white-wrapped stump.
The bastard just had to take his hand?
Even without sitting up, he knew there was no one else in the room. It was a cold, distant kind of warm. The sort which had been calculated to be just enough for comfort, but as energy efficient as possible. As a desert-dweller, it wasn't very effective for Luke and he shivered.
A small room. Cozy, if not for the sterile blankness and medical equipment. And the large two-way mirror which engulfed an entire wall. He sighed and glared at it - whoever was on the other side was probably deserving. The just too-cold air wormed its way through the clean gauze on his stump and he shuddered again, automatically bringing it close. Not having a hand was unnerving, especially when it hadn't been touched by anything - even air - in so long…
With a resigned huff, he swung his legs off the bed and slowly stood, testing his strength. Not too bad, so at least he hadn't been out for long enough to cause muscle deterioration. And it meant he hadn't been badly wounded in whatever manoeuvre had landed him in this Imp sickbay. Or whatever it was. The only thing that came to mind was the emptiness of space. Explosions. Lives winking away, either into death or pulled through hyperspace. And then Vader. In particular, ramming into him.
Yeah, that explained things.
Damnit.
Well, it had gotten less chilly and his faint tremors relaxed. At least the Imps had good heating, apparently.
Luke walked around the space. Wall to wall, it was only six paces one way, seven the other and he could touch the ceiling if he stretched. But, even with his most rigorous efforts, there didn't seem to be an escape route short of smashing the mirror-window. And since such a feat would take multiple attempts, there were likely armed Stormies behind it and he was one hand down... Not the best plan.
But before he could despair at his chances, or think that he was being transported somewhere far worse, the ship shook with a violence that sent him tumbling to the floor.
Next to his head, the bedframe rattled and bolts holding it down screamed in protest. Pillars of bleeping medical tech toppled, plunged into the floor and shattered. Shards struck Luke, slicing into his skin and drawing blood along his forearms, flung up to protect his head. The liquid trickled down, warm and wet.
For a moment, he floated from the floor, weight disappeared from him. About, the flung shrapnel hovered, droplets of red forming and sitting in the air, shining, perfect orbs. His stomach contracted, his whole body floundered without gravity to give it direction.
And he dropped again.
It was only inches to the floor. Flecks of blood splashed against metal. With up and down restored, Luke stumbled upright.
Whatever that was, it must have hit a gravity generator, or something supplying it with power. Meaning an attack from below.
Or the ship had been boarded. Rebels? Perhaps he was to be rescued!
The door opened with a squeak. And a familiar, wheezing breath sounded, dashing his hopes.
Luke froze.
How he had not noticed the cloying presence approaching was beyond him. But now that it inhabited the same space as he, it was suffocating. Oily and cold and, above all else, dark.
Neither of them moved for long, unbroken seconds. The only sound of air being forced in and out of that death's head, rattling and choked in a way fitting to the skeletal mask.
Another shudder shot through the ship and the perfect stillness was destroyed. Vader stormed forwards, which he only knew because of the floor reverberating with his heavy footsteps. Luke couldn't look up; couldn't face the bastard who was not his father.
He was grabbed, an unnaturally strong grip encircled his right bicep, near the shoulder. And Luke burst into movement, thrashing away from the bruising fingers. A moment. He twisted, yanking and tearing at the gloved hand unthinkingly. And it let go.
Luke dropped, scrambled away, chest heaving and sweat trickling down his forehead despite the lack of exertion. In his chest, the inside of his ribs were banged against by his heart. Pounding, pounding. As if aware of the imminent death only metres away. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Air was choking him, catching on a boulder lodged in his throat he couldn't swallow past.
A voice, deep and oddly mechanical.
"... Luke?"
It was Vader. Had to be. There was no one else. And he wasn't talking to fucking Vader. No. The bastard had to leave him alone. He couldn't be there. Here.
"Luke. We must move."
No. No.
"There are intruders aboard and this is not an easily defensible position," A pause. Rasping breaths. Luke couldn't breathe, "...Can you hear me?"
Yes, yes. Not that he wanted to and there was blankness invading his vision. Patches which he couldn't see and his lungs were contracting, gasping, convulsing-
"E chu ta, Luke! Breathe. With me."
A hand on his arm again and he tried to throw it off. But there was no air in his lungs and all he managed was a pathetic shove which didn't even connect.
"With me, Luke. In for five seconds, out for five seconds."
The rattling sound slowed. So drastically it had to be deliberate. He clung to it. The iron enclosing his lungs melted, slithered away and he gasped in a breath. Choked on the next but the third came in clean and strong. Luke coughed and gulped in more, panting. Behind his ribs, his heart beat a rapid staccato, thumping, a fist against the inside of his chest.
Luke tugged his arm away again and Vader let go without protest. Shuffled backwards until he hit the wall. Stared at the imposing figure kneeling before him.
Helmeted head loomed. Down from it dropped a cape, heavy and draping. Thick folds deepened the black with shadow. Pauldron, tabard and then that box of switches and lights. One gauntleted hand rested on it, clicking a button. Click, click, click. From the slower paced breathing it increased again.
"We must go."
Luke swallowed down another breath, "What, scared of some Rebels?" He managed to push out.
"It is not your friends who are the threat."
"And I should believe you?"
"Yes."
Luke couldn't hold back the barked laughter. It tore violently, bitterly from his chest. "You cut off my fucking hand."
No response.
Darth Vader was as a statue. He didn't move. The only indicator he lived was the breathing, now back to its usual pace.
"... Yes, I did," He ground out. Luke could sense anger, swelling and boiling and writhing in the Force. But locked away, only visible through a near-opaque wreath, delicate yet strong as durasteel. "It was regrettable."
Now was Luke's turn to freeze. Was that genuine? Did Vader actually believe they were father and son? Is that what this is?
No. He couldn't entertain that. Maybe later, when he was out of reach of the Sith. But here and now, he couldn't even accept the possibility - Ben had warned him of how the Dark Side would try to tempt him over. He wouldn't let it work, not for a moment.
"We must leave. Now."
Before he could think to protest, the hand was back around Luke's upper arm and tugging forcefully. Vader had stood too quick to follow and dragged the Rebel up, supported him until he could hold his own weight. Luke's face heated and he consciously did not duck his head, but glared defiantly. An amused jolt through the Force and he blinked, expression wiped away by shock.
And they were off.
Luke was dragged behind Vader who, with his far longer stride, ate up the ground with ease. Each corridor looked the exact same, but the Sith apparently knew his way.
Shouting, not at all distant and Luke tensed, whipped around. Was it from behind? Or to his right? It came again. The right.
A hall opened up on that side as they marched past and he caught a glimpse of people. From the spacer garb and practiced, confident way which they held their ragged blasters; pirates. Of course.
Moments after Luke saw them, heads swivelled, eyes locked onto his. Their faces were as worn as their clothes, lined and scarred. Automatically, he shrunk back, moved to take cover behind a wall. But the tight grip shackling him to Vader didn't loosen and he was left exposed as blasters swung to point their way.
Not to worry, apparently. The weapons crumpled and hands scrabbled at throats. Luke stared for a second. Watched as tongues lolled out and eyes whirled in their sockets. Choked, rasping gasps and the cracking of vertebrae.
"No!" He said before he could process it. They had probably been about to kill him. But this was wrong. "No. Let them go!"
Curiosity and bemusement through the Force. He shuddered, feeling the usually serenely emotionless energy suffused with it. There was something inherently Dark about it, but he couldn't place why.
And then the pirates were no longer choking.
Luke blinked. He hadn't expected that to work. Instead of permanently crushing the pirates' windpipes, Vader crumpled the length of corridor between them. Luke had to blink again. The Sith hadn't moved a muscle, and yet the durasteel had been folded inwards, looking like flimsi in the hands of a destructive toddler.
"If you are satisfied with the lack of lethal Force, may we continue?" Vader somehow managed to sound bored, murderous and smugly pleased all at once. Whilst also shit-yourself terrifying.
"I-. Yeah. Okay," If he could somewhat control Vader, then maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Obviously, the man (machine? alien?) was deluded into thinking they were related. If Luke could use that against him… "Let's go."
And they continued their march.
~Skywalker Family Amputations, Brought to You by Prosthetics R Us (Use Code 'ANAKIN' for 10% Off When Purchasing Four or More Limbs!)~
They reached transport without issue. However, the transport itself was an issue.
"Can we both fit in there?" Luke said after staring at the TIE Advanced's one-set cockpit. "Because you're pretty… Big."
Vader didn't even look like that had crossed his mind, "You will fly," He stated as if it was obvious, "And I shall stand."
"... Stand."
"Yes."
"On what?"
"The TIE."
"But. Where?"
"The roof. Now get in."
Luke turned to examine the blank mask, as if that would help him decide whether or not the bastard was joking. If he could joke. They stood, facing each other for long moments. Until there was a slight crack in the stillness of the Force and giddy amusement leaked out. Laughter, deep, hearty and joyful ghosted his ears.
And like the idiot he was, Luke blurted out the first thing that popped into his head; "Are you high?"
Immediately, that warm feeling fled, shut behind impenetrable walls once more. Vader didn't react outwardly, though, other than to shove him towards the TIE, a bit rougher than he had before.
Luke twisted back and scowled. He couldn't make sense of this. He had been kidnapped, but. It didn't feel like he had. There was no danger here. He knew there was, but the Force assured him otherwise and his guard was down and-. He had to figure this out. Something guided him. The Force, Ben, Yoda; he didn't know. But his hand was on Vader's shoulder and pressing down tightly before he could think twice.
How he did it, Luke had no idea. And he couldn't repeat it for the life of him.
But in that instant, all barriers between him, the Force and Darth Vader dissolved into mist.
The first thing that floated through the smoke to him was joy. Joy. Hope. And a choking sense of loss. The need to do better this time. Memories flashed past. A mother, kind and caring. Of a younger Ben. A kind old man with a large nose and Jedi robes. Of a woman, glowing with excitement and worry, buzzing with life. And then, darkness. Fire, pain. Can't breathe. Everything gone. Gone.
But. From that loss, a miniscule beacon of light, glimmering against the cold black. It grew closer, until he could make out an image. A boy with blond hair, looking to the side through blue eyes. Luke recognised himself. Younger, but he couldn't remember the day. He'd been talking to Han about something ship-related. And this image radiated hope.
The force of it rammed into him, seemed to pierce to the heart of his being. Because it was true. It had to be true. This wasn't a lie.
Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker.
And Anakin Skywalker was Luke's father.
Now he had no room for doubt. Just knowledge. And a strange assurance. Vader would not hurt him. Knowing this… The idea of being hurt by his father seemed alien after seeing… This.
With no warning, the Force slammed away from him, solidifying and the Sith's mind was once again impenetrable.
Luke flinched back, squinting as he opened his eyes. How long had it been? The Force itself seemed to withdraw from him and he shivered at the unnatural sensation.
His hand hung in the air, where Vader's shoulder must have been. The man himself was further away, backed up against the TIE. Despite what had to be mechanically controlled breathing, it hitched, spluttered, choked in and out unevenly.
"Va-... Father?" Luke only whispered it, but Vader jerked. "What was that?"
No answer. Seconds writhed past, scratching and dragging along, stretching far past mere seconds into minutes. Then. "The Force. It isn't fond of waiting."
Luke let his hand drop, hugged his stump close. He didn't know what to do with the Sith backed up as far away from him as possible. Thankfully, nothing was apparently the right choice and Vader approached again, though surprisingly hesitant.
"I know I'm not…" It came out in a jerk, as if the words were a string he had swallowed but was being dragged back out. "I'm not who you thought I was. But. I-." He shifted, hands swung to rest behind his back in a distinctly military stance. "I'm your father, Luke. And too much time has been wasted already."
"... Yeah. But you need to change. I just-. I can't have a father who murders my friends. Or tortures them."
Vader's helmet dipped, "Another regrettable mistake."
"Mistake?!" Luke choked out, "You captured people you knew I care about! And tortured them. That is not a mistake!"
Vader quieted. Then deftly began to work on hidden buckles along his right elbow. Efficiently, the black material was stripped away to reveal a metal forearm. More clips and straps and connections and the arm came away, revealing incredibly pale, scarred skin behind it, which was quickly covered as Vader pulled the suit back over his stump, fastened it in place.
Once done, he proffered the arm.
Luke stared, confused.
"A promise. I am right handed. Without this, I cannot effectively wield a lightsaber, nor efficiently complete tasks requiring hands and dexterity. I will change. Am changing. You are my son and I want a place by your side, no matter where that is."
Luke slowly took it. Against his fingers, the metal was smooth and chilled. Between plates of silver durasteel, powerful pistons were visible. The digits were huge, each twice the size of his own and without even the pretense of humanity; cold, robotic.
"It is also compatible with your prosthetic connection port. Two hands are necessary for piloting."
There was a strange kind of sense in that Vader's idea of a peace offering was his arm. Especially if it was an arm Luke could use. Practical, but still touching.
With a bemused expression and an odd warmth sitting in his chest, Luke placed the prosthetic against his stump. Twisted. It clunked into place, but the expected returning of sensation in the limb didn't happen. He brushed his new fingertips (or Vader's fingertips, but that was odd to think of) against his leg, but only felt the pressure of it. And that vaguely, as if through a thick, squishy membrane. Perhaps this lack of sensitivity was why he had been holding Luke tight enough to bruise, before?
"Now we must go," Vader said, straightened and turned away. Another snap through the Force, but this time flustered. On the verge of embarrassment. Surprise, but at what, Luke didn't have time to make out before it was locked down once again. Instead of saying anything, he simply nodded and clambered up and into the TIE cockpit, Vader following close behind to show him the ropes of an Imp craft.
~Skywalker Family Piloting Lessons, Brought to You by the Give Dad Vader Hugs Fund, Stay Tuned for More After the Linebreak~
Luke had never flown a TIE. Let alone a TIE Advance.
And he'd never even dreamt of flying with a Sith riding piggyback in the vacuum of space. Since said Sith was both his father and, arguably, the most skilled pilot in the Galaxy, it led to quite a bit of back-seat flying. Why did that mask have a comm function?
"Son, if we're not going to burn up on entry, you must pull back on the thrusters."
"But it's so slow!"
"That is how ion engines work," Vader explained for the sixth time. "If you keep going at this speed, we will be lucky to burn up instead of being pulverised."
"So you suggest we wait a few years for it to get up to speed?"
Vader sighed. Which was quite odd for Luke - being able to hear his dad sigh. Perhaps he shouldn't be so harsh on the mask designer for that comm. It made his voice less robotic, more human. And translated things which he suspected the vocoder wouldn't. Occasional huff of laughter, sighs and inflection in Vader's tone were nice to hear. There was a lack of guard to it, no effort taken to conceal the warmth in his words when, if speaking through the vocoder, it would have been flat and emotionless.
Luke could believe that Vader had changed.
"I suggest that we don't destroy both ourselves and our only means of transportation because of your impatience," He was saying and the thud of him changing position came from above the cockpit.
"At least we'll get to test the brakes," Luke grinned and there was an answering huff from the commlink, accompanied by more warmth through the Force.
Before them, suspended in space, was the closest inhabitable planet to where the medical ship had been boarded. Vader, whilst his armour allowed him to survive space (even with an arm removed), would die instantaneously if exposed to hyperspace. With or without the suit. That left them to limp through realspace with their ion engines. It also gave them time to chat, though Vader wasn't particularly talkative. Instead, Luke would speak of his time with the Rebels, his friends, adventures back on Tatooine.
"You know Huttese?" He eventually asked.
His father deliberated on the question before answering, "How did you know?"
"You said 'e chu ta' earlier. When-. When you got me breathing again."
"Which doesn't mean I speak Huttese."
"No, but you do."
"... Yes."
Vader's discomfort radiated through the Force and Luke hummed, didn't ask any more. Maybe another time.
And that was how they spent the hours flying. Talking on meaningless subjects. By the time that planet, green and blue and hopeful, hung close enough to take up the whole viewscreen, Luke felt like he knew more of his father. This was what he had been missing his whole life; someone who cared about everything that he did, no matter how small or long ago or trivial. Someone to make sure he was safe and alright. Though with that last one, Vader didn't have the best track record. But he was trying.
Luke had a father. It felt good.
"Are you going to join the Rebellion?"
"What?"
He sucked in a breath. Hadn't meant to blurt that out. "You said you want a place by my side. And I'm a Rebel. I can't give that up and I-"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Of course. I meant what I said. You are more important than the Emperor or his Empire."
Luke's face morphed into a grin, that warm feeling bubbling in his chest, sparking along and ready to burst. He wouldn't have to choose between his father and his morals. Well, any more than he already did, at least.
"Focus, Luke. Extend the flaps and reverse thrust, you're going too fast."
Despite not being able to see each other, the Rebel dipped his head and did so, hands flying over the unfamiliar controls. "That armour better be fireproof," He muttered, just as the flames began to lick at his viewscreen, upper atmosphere roaring as it was forcefully shoved aside, distracting him from the fact that he; farmer boy Luke Skwyalker from backwards Tatooine was more important than the Emperor. He was beaming, but only became aware of it once his cheeks started to hurt from the force of it.
Nothing but red and orange and yellow, the cockpit began to heat until Luke was sweating despite his Tatooine upbringing.
Though it was worrying, the flames faded quickly once they were through the upper layer and he readjusted in his seat, getting used to the feeling of gravity again. Above, more clanks as his father did the same. At least he was still there and hadn't been thrown off.
The planet was gorgeous.
Ahead, massive forests stretched to the very horizon. Nature was everything, everywhere. Unbroken by sentients or their structures. Hills, blanketed by trees stretching up, deep green fingers, reached for the sky. What a sky; bright blue, with two suns circling above, tints of purple and pink traced the edges of the world.
Even after visiting many planets, most of which weren't deserts, the presence of so much life was astounding. The amount of water here to support such vegetation was incomprehensible.
Vader broke his train of thought, "Down, on the left. A clearing."
Luke nodded, swooped down towards the forest sprawling out below.
If they were going to be here a while… At least it was beautiful.
A gentle landing later, and they were out. Standing beneath great swathes of leaves, listening to the chattering and chirping of whatever inhabited this place. Branches swayed and rustled, and twigs snapped as his father began to pace.
He stalked from one end of the clearing to the other, peered between the great boughs of the forest. Seemingly satisfied, he returned to the TIE, and swiftly clambered to the top, far too agile for someone his size and missing an arm.
Vader dropped into the cockpit and began working the controls, though slower than he probably would have liked, as the Force grumbled in frustration. Luke rubbed at his new arm, moved to take it off and offer it back to his father, but the Sith waved his remaining hand at him, accompanied with a stern "no".
He sighed and dropped down onto the leaves and grass, leant back on the TIE's wing. "Are you calling someone to pick us up?"
From above, more beeps from the controls. Then; "Yes. Do you have the Rebellion's unofficial number?"
"I've got Leia's. There's an official number?"
"It's what I call to talk politics over tea," Vader grumbled, followed by a thud as he landed. "Will Leia answer?"
"Yeah, probably. Unless your number is obviously… You."
An image of the Sith's caller ID being something like 'V4D3R' popped to mind.
Vader proffered his hand and Luke grabbed it after a moment, was hauled to his feet. "Dial her."
He nodded and scrambled up the side of the TIE, with a helping shove from his father. Once back in the cockpit, it was easy to see what Vader had been up to.
Various parts had been cannibalised - wires, buttons, even part of a speaker system. They all fed into the central monitor, already with the cheerful 'who do you want to call?' message displayed, with an input box below. Carefully threading his hand between the wires, Luke tapped on the screen until Leia's number was typed in. A deep breath in, then out and he pressed the 'call' button.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
"Didn't you say she'd pick u-"
And suddenly Leia's face took up the screen. Luke grinned, but Vader was still talking. He quickly turned to the side and shushed him. If the Princess heard that distinctive voice, he didn't want to even think of the shitstorm that'd cause.
"Luke?!" She gasped, leant forwards until her face took up the entire screen. "It is you!"
"Yeah…?"
"What happened? Are you hurt? Did you kill Vader?!"
Luke blinked, coughed back a snort. Because even the thought of that felt odd and wrong, now. "No, and I'm alright."
"You got away, then."
He swallowed, but didn't say anything. Omission wasn't as bad as actual lying, was it? He'd tell her. Sometime. Sometime later.
"I'm guessing you're stranded and need some help," Her eyes twinkled and she leant back, more relaxed now. Though something was… Off, somehow.
Luke laughed and ran a hand through his hair, "How could you tell?"
"Perhaps the bruises. Or maybe the Imp ship you're sitting in?" And her pleasant smile dropped away. Well, that explained the odd feeling. "I'm hoping there's an explanation."
Luke's laugh became nervous. Because there was an explanation, but not one Leia would like. Or even expect; she would think him delusional or brainwashed before accepting this particular truth.
He opened his mouth to say something and the words didn't come. Ran a hand over his face and, when the cold metal met his skin, he knew it was a mistake.
Leia leant forward again, eyes narrowed, "And since when did you have a Clone Wars era military prosthetic?"
"You know about prosthetics?"
"I had to pick out yours. Research. Now why do you have it?"
Luke gulped in a breath. He couldn't tell her. She wouldn't look at him the same ever again, and losing a friend… No. He couldn't do it. Didn't mean he had to lie, just… Omit. "Vader stopped me from jumping to hyperspace and I was knocked out when I rammed his TIE. Then I woke up with this hand, flew a TIE down to the nearest planet and here I am!"
It took a valiant effort to keep a straight face. Against his will, Luke's lip twitched, he couldn't look Leia in the eyes and suddenly, the cockpit was far too stuffy.
A sigh from the speakers. "You're a terrible liar, Luke."
"I'm not lying."
"Then what aren't you telling me?"
He just about managed to lift his head, but only to glance away again when confronted by that stoney glower. Maybe. Just maybe, he could tell Leia? They'd been through thick and thin - his amputation, her torture, Alderaan exploding and everything in between. Perhaps his dad being her torturer, his amputator and complicit in Alderaan's explosion wouldn't be too big of a deal?
Probably not.
Well shit.
However, the decision was taken out of his hands as the TIE juddered beneath him, clangs of metal on metal ringing out behind him. A glance at Leia showed her scrambling back from the screen and against the dark areas at the edges, where walls cast shadows, the reflection of Darth Vader looked back at him.
Luke turned, stared at his father. Perched on the back of his TIE, the crouched form took on the appearance of a vulture, cape sprawling down and folding over sharp, harsh edges. One arm missing, the other lightly resting atop the metal at his booted feet.
What a dramatic bastard.
"Did you have to do that?"
"No," Vader answered without even a hint of remorse. Then addressed Leia. "I-... Apologise for my past transgressions against you and your friends."
"What?"
"Luke is my son, and-"
"What?!"
"-I intend to stay by him. Regardless of what must be done. The path of least resistance seems to be joining your Rebellion," Even now, he managed to make that word sound like an insult.
"You want to-?!"
"Yes. This is my application."
"Wait. You - Darth Vader - are applying to join the Alliance?"
"That is what I said."
Leia barked out a laugh. "Seriously?"
"Yes," Vader answered.
"And why should we trust you? You. The Empire's Fist. Palpatine's rabid dog-"
"I wasn't aware of that title."
"No. Just another thing you are. Emotionless bastard, immoral and honourless are also on the list. Trust me, it's a long one."
Vader probably sighed, but all that came out was spluttering static. "Luke's safety is paramount. That is why you should trust me."
"It wasn't paramount when you lopped off his hand!"
"... No, but that has changed."
"Doesn't change that you're untrustworthy. And a mass murderer!"
"Among other things," Vader grew closer, slid to hold himself, rather awkwardly, on the side of the cockpit. "I am also invested in the health of my son. I cannot remain working in the Empire and protect him simultaneously. Since he will not allow himself to be detained-"
"Kidnapped," Leia interjected.
"- Then I must join the Rebellion. Previously, there was still the potential to have both. I have since realised that it would be improbable."
Leia quietened for a moment. Her eyes swayed off of Vader, onto where Luke must have been on her screen. Seemed to be scanning him; a careful check for bruising around the throat, injection marks or general unease. Flicked back to the darker form. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why now? What happened to make you realise you can't have both?" A smirk twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Not much makes you give up."
… That was a point. And a good one. Luke glanced back, up at his father, sprawled on the harsh edge as if all his limbs were made of metal. Nothing but his too-relaxed and tellingly tense posture gave away what he thought, and even that didn't offer much. In the Force, that wall had come down stronger than ever, opaque and inscrutable.
No quick response, this time. Vader deliberated, unmoving and rigid. Luke couldn't help but think that the position had to be uncomfortable - the entirety of his weight balanced on a thin, sharp stretch of metal.
Finally, he spoke.
"I was given an ultimatum. Luke, my son, or the Emperor, my master. I did not need long to decide."
Silence.
Luke was turned to his father fully, now. "You've already left the Empire? But I thought-"
"The medical ship was an escape route. From Kamino, I would have sought you out. But the Force is not fond of waiting."
Leia butted in, "Kamino? Why would you go to a ruined cloning facility?"
"Ruined in part, yes. But areas still function."
Instead of pushing it, Leia sat back, stared at Vader out of the screen. Her face was set in stone, unflinching. Not a muscle moved; she looked to not even breathe. Silence. It stretched on and Luke fidgeted, twisting his hands into his shirt, fiddled with the exposed metal of his new hand. All that he could hear was Vader's rasping, steady, every few seconds. And the swishing of grass, crackling of leaves, whispering from the trees. Snaps of twigs far away into the forest. In the quiet, this ambience became far more menacing. Luke's neck itched under imagined eyes, peering from the towering green down at him.
"I have a… Discrete medical centre there. It is highly advanced. I planned to undergo treatment and enter the Rebellion without the suit." Somehow, Luke knew that it hurt to admit. Admit to what, he could only guess. Needing help? Abandoning the Empire? Planning to join the Alliance? That, if Vader didn't desperately need Leia to believe him, they would have had to torture this information out of him.
"'Discrete' as in secret from the Emperor?" Leia said, moving again. She remained verging on expressionless, but shifted a little. It was a relief from the forced stillness of before. "How long have you been planning this?"
Another pause. Thankfully, this one was shorter, "There was no need for planning."
"So you already had this escape route?" Now the Princess looked interested, brow furrowing, "But that doesn't make sense! Until now, you've been completely immovable from the Emperor's side."
"... It wasn't for me."
Luke blinked. Stared at his father.
That was unexpected.
Because if it was true, which he suspected it was… Then Vader - Vader - had been helping people escape the Empire. Potentially for years!
"Who, then?" Luke asked before he could stop himself.
Breaking from his imitation of a statue, Vader turned to look down at his son. "Clones. Leftovers from the Clone Wars."
And Leia scowled, "Oh? So the Empire wasn't a perfect utopia?"
The Force snapped and burnt.
"I am well aware that the Empire is not a 'utopia'. However, it is a far sight better than what came before!"
"Freedom? The ability to voice opinions without being enslaved? If these clones only needed an escape during the Empire, doesn't that say something?" Leia's face took up the entire screen, strands of hair escaping two messy buns, "Or are you too blind to see the obvious?"
"I am not blind," Vader was all but snarling, "There was nothing else for me but the Empire. Now, there is."
"I doubt it's that simple."
"Then you are in error!"
Luke burst in, "Hey! Calm down!" Because he didn't particularly like it when an entire TIE began hovering, accompanied with ominous groaning and the Force roiling, as if readying to buck off an unwanted passenger, "Put the ship down, please?"
Vader glanced at him, down at the ground and jolted. He could really do this without knowing?! Luke swallowed - he had been sent to fight this! With a slight nod, the TIE sunk back down until a jolt of landing gear hitting the forest floor.
Leia rolled her eyes, "Do you think he's telling the truth?" She addressed her fellow Rebel, "Is… Is the Force telling you anything?" Despite how she hesitated, Luke knew she trusted his senses. After all they had gone through, it would be hard not to.
He thought.
Was Darth Vader telling the truth? About putting his son first, wanting to join the Rebellion?
The resounding answer was "yes."