Chapter 16 – To Coruscant
Vader returned to the admiral's chambers. He stood in front of the tactical display, eyes glossing over the data readouts without any recognition for what they were about.
His hands were behind his back. Left hand clenched into a fist, right hand grasping the left at the wrist. He was tense. He felt the superstructure of his suit straining ever so slightly.
The whirlwind of emotions was difficult to discern. First and most apparent was the anger. At least now he knew where that anger was focused. Palpatine. It was Palpatine's fault that he had to let his daughter go. It was Palpatine's fault that he was here, in this suit, in this terrible position. It was all Palpatine's fault.
He was distressed. For the fate of his daughter, in large part. But he had to have faith that she would escape the Prerogative safely. She was competent. As was the Rebel soldier Cassian Andor. He had taken the liberty to read the man's file. He had an extensive history, indeed. And on the other end of the spectrum, Vader knew that classic Imperial incompetence would do well to facilitate their escape. Vader had given up long ago trying to extract the same level of efficiency and professionalism from the Imperial troops as the troopers who had served under him all those years ago during the Clone Wars.
Leia would be safe. His daughter would escape.
That led to the fear. The terrible, gnawing fear. It had nothing to do with the girl. And everything to do with himself and his own perilous path.
Darth Vader was afraid.
He felt it in his chest. The fluttering of his callused heart. He felt it in his lungs. The respirator's inability to keep up with his gasps, the familiar dizziness from lack of oxygen. He would be shaking, but his metal limbs would not permit this. The turmoil remained internal, for now.
What was he doing? How had he found the resolve to so blatantly betray his master? How would he be able to follow through with it?
It was as if he had forgotten how pitiful he was. How could he forget? He was nothing. Worthless. A shell of a man.
But for a few hours, he had not been. For a few hours, he had been brave. He had been bold. He had been… himself.
Himself? No. Not himself. He had been someone else entirely. Someone else, from long, long ago.
But he wasn't that man. He hadn't been for decades. He could not do this. He could not betray his master.
He had tried before. Or not so much tried, but tried to try. Somewhere, deep within him, Vader had a sense of worth. A sense of self. He did not want to be his master's slave. He did not want to belong to him, utterly and completely.
Yet every time he experienced these foreign feelings, Vader would reel himself back in. He did want to be a slave. It was all he had ever been. It was all he had ever deserved. Who would he be without his master? Nothing.
But now Vader had another consideration.
I won't let you down, Father.
I won't let you down.
He was obligated to her. More than that. He was tethered to her. On a metaphorical level, and also on a real, tangible one. Through the Force, their bond was strengthening. He could still feel her presence aboard the ship, although she was slipping away from him, that metaphysical rope growing slack.
She deserved better. She deserved to be free. To be safe.
She deserved what he did not.
He was afraid.
But he had no doubt.
His path was set.
To Coruscant.
Δ Δ Δ
Leia's hands were sweaty.
She was in the cockpit of an Imperial shuttle. Again. She was becoming quite familiar with this craft. It was not as nimble or powerful as the TIEs she had been trained in, but it was a good vessel nonetheless.
But right now she wasn't sure she'd be able to fly it. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do anything right now.
She was frozen.
"Leia!"
Someone was yelling at her.
"They're on our tail! Get us out of here!"
The viewport in front of her lit up with bright green flashes. Tremors ran through the shuttle, causing the whole cockpit to quiver. Sensors and sirens blared at her.
She heard, saw, and felt none of it.
"Snap out of it!"
She thought about the hermit Obi-Wan Kenobi. How much of what he told her had been fabricated, the devious lies of a manipulative old man? I knew your father, he had said. I knew him, and I loved him.
Liar.
Darth Vader was her father. Darth Vader.
How could she possibly come to terms with this? It was incomprehensible. It was ludicrous.
And yet she knew it to be true with all of her heart.
He was a bad man. She knew this. She saw what he was capable of. She felt the darkness within him. But there was more than that. There was more to her father than evil. By letting her escape, he was proving that to her.
But she had to survive first in order for that deed to matter.
"Leia!"
"Shut up, Cassian," she snapped. "I know what I'm doing."
Another tremor ran through the shuttle. The TIEs on their heels were close. Too close.
"Hold on, I'm going to try something."
"What?"
"I said hold on!"
She twisted the control stick and pushed it forward, changing the shuttle's yaw, pitch, and roll all in one. They tumbled. Someone screamed. Leia remained calm. She saw in the tactical three TIEs soar past, yet they quickly adjusted, spinning about the apsis of their trajectory and reorienting themselves to face off with the shuttle once more. But they wouldn't have time to catch her. With deft wristwork on the sticks, Leia flipped the shuttle and twisted it around to face the Star Destroyer. She then reached for the hyperdrive lever, tugged the control stick up a degree with her off hand so they wouldn't go barreling into the bridge of the Prerogative, and jumped the shuttle into hyperspace.
She collapsed back in her seat. Only now did she realize her whole body was shaking, and that she was soaked with sweat.
"What the hell was that?"
She looked around to see Cassian sprawled on the ground, grimacing as he clutched his broken arm. Jyn was next to him, looking similarly disheveled. Galen in contrast had fared quite well. He was strapped into the copilot's chair. His eyes were rather wide, however, and his face practically white.
"What do you mean?" Leia said to Cassian. "I just saved your life, didn't I?"
"That was absurd," he said, gasping. "That was insane."
Leia had a haughty response ready, but Jyn cut her off.
"What Cassian means to say is thank you," she said, casting him a stern look.
"Of course that's what I mean," Cassian said. "I've never seen anyone fly like that before, that's all."
"It was remarkable," Galen said. His voice was hoarse.
Leia looked at him.
"You knew."
He blinked at her.
"Didn't you?"
"Yes. I did."
"How?"
"He told me."
"Why?"
Galen looked to Jyn and Cassian who were understandably perplexed by this exchange.
"Never mind," Leia said. She unstrapped herself from the pilot's seat and stood. "I'll be in the cabin. Come get me if there's a problem. Otherwise, leave me alone. I don't want to talk to any of you, understood?"
No one spoke. Jyn and Cassian were confused, perhaps intimidated. Galen looked conflicted.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Leia ignored him. She marched out of the cabin, fingers still trembling.
Δ Δ Δ
The comlink buzzed on his chest panel. Vader growled.
"Yes?" he said, keying the button agitatedly.
"We are making our approach to Coruscant my lord." It was Commodore Bose.
"How long?"
"We will arrive at the docks in thirty minutes. It will take another fifteen minutes for your shuttle to reach Imperial City."
"Good." Vader deactivated the com.
He took a breath, flexed his fingers.
Back in the brig. He stood in front of a different cell this time. He eyed the control panel.
What was this sensation? He felt it in his stomach, gnawing at his insides, hot and cold.
Of course he was well accustomed to guilt. He felt it every day. But never so acutely. The guilt which he experienced typically was dull and distant. This sensation was far more tangible.
He knew the difference, of course. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but he did.
Vader took another breath. It didn't help. Perhaps because the breath wasn't really his own. It didn't calm him, it didn't invigorate him. He was still left mostly breathless. Unless he was in his oxygen-enriched hyperbaric chamber, he was constantly gasping, always slightly out of breath.
Enough. He was doing this, wasn't he?
Wasn't he?
Guilt again.
This new version of himself was abhorrent. Emotions, constantly. They were overwhelming. He had to get a grip on himself.
Stepping forward, he mashed his fist to the control panel. The cell door opened. Vader ducked as he entered.
The young Jedi was not unconscious at all. Vader had lied to his daughter about that.
He had lied.
For her own good!
Rationalize all you want. It didn't allay the guilt.
"What do you want?"
The young Jedi sat up from the slab. He grimaced, hand held to his bandaged temple.
"Luke." Vader took another step into the cell. The door closed behind him. "That is your name."
"Yes."
"Your full name."
"What do you care?"
"Tell me."
"No."
Another step forward. Vader loomed over the Jedi now.
"You know what I am capable of." The boy contained his fear, externally at least. Vader could sense it nonetheless. "I can extract whatever information I need from you."
"Then go ahead," the Jedi said, brazen.
Vader narrowed his eyes. "Do you know where I am taking you?" No response. The boy couldn't possibly know. "To Courscant. To my master."
Now the Jedi could not contain his reaction. "The Emperor?"
"You cannot hide anything from us."
"You underestimate me."
Where had he heard that before? Vader kneeled down to the Jedi's eye level.
"You accompanied a young woman by the name Leia Appenza. Tell me about the nature of your acquaintance."
"You won't hurt her," the boy spat.
Vader bristled at the accusation. He felt impelled to grab the boy firmly by the wrist, so he did. Luke winced.
"How do you know each other?"
"We met on Tatooine."
"Why were you there?"
"I was born there."
"And Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
"What about him?"
"He trained you."
"Yes. He trained me to defeat you. And I will. I will defeat you, Vader."
Vader stood. The boy's tone, the tremor of anger, revealed his certitude. He was confident, he was vengeful.
This boy was no Jedi. Kenobi would never have condoned this.
"You are unbalanced," Vader said. "You have great anger, Luke. Why? For whom?"
"For you."
"Because I killed your master."
The Jedi clenched his jaw fiercely.
"No," Vader said. "There is more." He stared at the boy for a long while, sifting through the unpleasant miasma of his mind. He recognized this great emotion, this incredible frustration. The boy reminded him so strongly of another…
"Your power is great," Vader said finally. He found himself taking a half step back. Was he afraid of the Jedi? Perhaps in some small way. "But you have only just begun to scrape your potential. Kenobi held you back."
"No," Luke insisted.
"He trained you on Tatooine, in secrecy. Never were you allowed a chance to prove yourself."
"Until now."
"But that is only because he is dead. You have escaped from Kenobi now."
The boy did not speak. His hands were clasped firmly on top of his lap. He was so tense, his whole body ticking.
He was a time bomb. And Vader was about to deliver him to his master.
This was a horrible mistake.
But he had no choice. This was his only move to ensure he remained in Palpatine's good graces, and therefore out of suspicion. He could not reverse course and attempt to hide the Jedi from his master as well. He had made his choice: Leia was more important than Luke. Of course she was. She was his daughter. This boy was nothing to him.
Then why did he feel so guilty?
Because he had lied to his daughter, for sure. He had told her that the Jedi would be unable to escape when in truth he was more than able. She cared for this boy, deeply in fact. And Vader could sense that the Jedi felt the same of her.
But this was not about Leia. Not fully. He felt guilty about handing this boy over to the Emperor. He felt horribly guilty because he knew Palpatine would ruin him. He would ruin this young Jedi just like he had ruined another twenty years ago.
"He will use your anger against you," Vader said. He hadn't planned on saying it, and yet the words came out of his mouth nonetheless. Impulsive. Unlike him. And far more like that other man. The one he wished desperately to forget, but couldn't.
"Who?" Luke said.
"The Emperor."
"What do you mean?"
"When I deliver you to him, he will seek to turn you to the dark side."
"I'll never –"
"You already have."
The Jedi fell silent at that.
"You are strong, young Jedi. Your hatred for me makes you strong. Your resentment of Kenobi makes you strong." He paused to consider. "Your love for Leia makes you vulnerable."
"I am not –"
"He will turn you. And when he does, he will ask you to kill me."
"Kill you? But why?"
"You will become his apprentice. He only requires one."
"And you're telling me this why? Because you want to team up with me or something? To overthrow the Emperor so you can become my new master?"
"No."
"Well good, because that's not happening. I'll never join you. And I'll never turn to the dark side! You might be weak, Vader, but I'm not."
"You are as brittle as bone." Vader flinched. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh. But he was angry now. Because what was to come seemed inevitable. And it was entirely his fault. "You do not understand," he said, speaking softly to keep his temper in check. "I knew a young man who once thought as you did."
"My father?"
Vader was taken aback.
"You knew him," Luke said. "You killed him. Obi-Wan told me that."
"He was a Jedi?"
"Yes."
"Then it is likely I did." And for whatever reason, Vader chose to say, "I'm sorry."
The boy stood. "Leave," he said, pointing to the door.
Vader did not argue.
He left.
The guilt did not.