Chapter 3 – A Time to Plan

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In which some time passes and Vader and Luke have another confrontation... ;)

~ Amina Gila

Vader had been adamant that he be allowed to speak to one of the leaders of the Rebel Alliance, which is, he supposes, the reason he's now sitting face-to-face with a certain Mon Mothma, former Senator in the Republic. The woman shows surprising fortitude in his presence, because he can't sense even the slightest hint of fear.

"I will only say this once," Vader begins warningly, slamming a hand down firmly on the table. "No more drugs. If I am drugged one more time, I will leave, and I will not take care to mitigate the casualties. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly," Mothma replies neutrally. "I was against it from the start, but some of the others felt that it would be easier to obtain information if you were… drugged." Whatever she was about to say, she changed. That's probably a good thing. For her.

Frankly, the drugging wasn't what disturbed Vader, because he can use the Force to block or at least dampen the effectiveness; it was what happened two days ago. He thought he'd seen Obi-Wan. Actually, he did, and what bothers him is that he wasn't angry. He was – he was relieved. Or maybe it was just a weird hallucination. Yes, that must be it. There's no way he could have really missed Obi-Wan. If he repeats it enough, he'll be able to banish all contrary thoughts from mind.

"If you want answers, you only have to ask," Vader retorts mildly. "I have little interest in protecting the Empire, not after the most recent revelations."

"Might I ask what it was that changed your opinion?" she questions.

Vader narrows his eyes. He doesn't owe her anything – he refuses to think of the fact that she could have ordered him shot on sight instead of being captured – but maybe, in the interest of fostering an amiable alliance, he can indulge her this once. "I learned that I had a son," he admits. "I believed him dead with his mother; that is what the Emperor told me." He remembers suddenly what Kenobi had told him – if he was really there. Maybe it was his mind trying to explain the questions? Kenobi had said that his Angel had been perfectly healthy after giving birth until suddenly, a dark presence had leached away her life.

Had he not been wondering how Sidious knew of her death? This, then, is the answer. And really, what else could he have expected? Had his Angel and their wonderful children been with him, he would never have remained at his master's side. His love for his son pulled him away from Sidious scarcely any time after learning of him, and if it were shortly after his Fall, he would have been able to turn back even more easily.

Turn back. Interesting, yet misleading, words. He's been a Sith for so long, that he can't remember any other life. His past is gone. Dead. The only remnants are his two children. And is it not natural for the Sith apprentice to rebel against and kill the master? He was only fulfilling his destiny. He never cared much for an Empire, and he's already lost whatever power his position gave him. His true power, however, the Force, cannot be taken from him. If he changes his mind and decides to take over the Empire, there is still time, but he doesn't think he will.

Mothma seems surprised by his admission, but she strives not to show it. "What are your plans now?" she queries, getting straight to the point. "The Empire has put a bounty on your head, and you're not exactly inconspicuous."

Yes. That leads right to the next point which he'd considered broaching. "It might be possible for me to modify my armor to an extent," he muses. "If you can provide trustworthy medics who will not attempt to assassinate me, then I am willing to let them review my condition and give suggestions."

"Because you can't live without your armor now," she confirms, nodding briskly. "You have extensive knowledge about the Empire and strategic points, so we will help you as long as you will help us."

He doesn't care anymore what happens to the Empire. He should. If not for his current predicament, then he probably would. "Yes, of course," he agrees. "If you provide me with suitable quarters as befitting my position, then I will willingly provide you with data and plans." Because he knows that his plans for inflicting damage on the Empire would be far superior to anything the Rebels might concoct.

"I will speak to the other commanders," she replies, temporarily deferring his request which he's certain will be granted. They're banking on Vader being their ticket to success, something he's willing to be if it means he'll be able to get revenge for Sidious murdering his Angel, and of course, get his family back.

And what then? After Sidious is dead, he'll have gotten his revenge, but he'll have lost his purpose. The Empire will be gone – he'll fail spectacularly if he tries to convince his daughter to let it remain – and his skills won't be necessary. A Republic doesn't need an enforcer. The realization that he'll have to decide what to do floors him. He's never had to do that, not as a Jedi, and not as a Sith.

His expertise lies in warfare, but what use will it be if the galaxy is whole again? Oh. Well, there's always all types of criminal cartels, and, of course, slavers. Yes. He can deal with that. The Republic certainly won't be against it, and that will take him many years. Maybe by then he'll know what he might want to do, or maybe he'll be old enough that deciding what to do will no longer be necessary. And really, why is he even thinking about it? Revenge. He needs to focus on that and let all other worries slip aside, at least for now.

**w**

Luke pulls his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs as he stares out at the horizon. He'd come here, a short distance away from the base, to have a few moments of privacy. He knows and accepts that Vader is his father, but he doesn't know what to do with that knowledge. What should he do with it? At least he got a sister out of this mess, though said sister absolutely refuses to acknowledge her connection with their father. And, by default, that means that Luke has been left to struggle with it alone.

All things considered, he thinks he's doing well. No one seems to blame him for it or view him with suspicion, not that anyone other than the leaders know. He doesn't think that Han knows. He didn't tell the smuggler, and he doubts Leia did either. It's not the kind of thing she would share with him, or at all. It's only because of chance that he even knows the truth.

The sunlight warms his face, though it doesn't do anything about the icy doubt gripping his heart. He hasn't seen Vader for two weeks, not since he nearly destroyed his entire cell, but there's part of Luke that wants to find the Sith Lord. Whether he likes it or not – and he really, truly doesn't – the man is his father, and the one thing he's wanted more than anything is to have a father. Is it really asking too much that he at least see him? Just once?

He doesn't let himself consider any other reasons why he's considering seeing Vader. There isn't one. If only he believed that. Forcing himself to stop thinking, he rises, heading back to the compound. Granted, Luke doesn't know exactly where Vader is currently located, but rumor has it that he has his own quarters somewhere. He's not a prisoner, which is probably wise considering what happened a couple weeks ago. Luke is convinced that nothing can contain the Sith if he doesn't wish it.

Actually, finding Vader is far easier than he'd initially thought because all he needs to do is open himself to the Force. Vader is like a black hole, a beacon of darkness and evil, and he does nothing to minimize his aura which seems to consume anything light and good in the immediate vicinity. Luke badly doesn't want to be one of those who is muted, but that's hardly his biggest concern. Not even five minutes later, he finds himself standing outside the door to Vader's quarters. He just needs to get this over with.

Raising a hand, he knocks on the door. It opens a moment later. Luke looks inside, quickly scanning the interior. It's small, containing a bed on one wall, and a desk on the other. A door to the side probably leads to a private 'fresher. Vader is sitting at the desk, a multitude of datapads laid out before him. "Luke." Is it just his imagination or does the Dark Lord actually sound surprised?

Luke hesitantly steps inside, suddenly on the verge of panic. This was a mistake. He should leave. He doesn't even know why he came here. He shouldn't have. Vader is still the enemy; he's still a murderer – and Luke's father. "Calm yourself, young one." Vader tilts his helmet slightly, and Luke gets the impression that he's being scrutinized, especially when the overwhelming darkness probes him. "I will not harm you."

He moves closer, feeling skittish. Vader says he won't harm him, but if the Sith Lord genuinely wanted to, no one could stop him. Luke is in enemy territory, and he must be cautious. Perhaps Vader understands the reason for his sudden muteness – it wouldn't be surprising – but regardless of the reason, he continues to work on the datapads in front of him while Luke watches in silence. He – he doesn't even know why he came, just that he felt he needed to.

"You're my father," he finally blurts out.

Vader inclines his head. "I am," he agrees.

Then, suddenly, he does know what he wants to say. "You were Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi, a hero," he says in a rush, irrational anger flaring up. He's not angry at Vader per se; well, okay, he is, but he's also angry at the whole situation. He should have been raised by his father. Though he does sense the growing darkness in the room, he chooses to ignore it. "How could you choose to become someone like this?"

The anger in the room, from both of them, is nearly tangible. "There is much you do not know, my son," Vader replies finally, voice tight with barely suppressed fury.

"Then tell me!" yells Luke, glaring furiously. "You're my father! You were supposed to be there to raise me, and you weren't." He pauses, inhaling shakily. "I always wanted to have a father like everyone else, and I never understood why I didn't."

The silence in the room would be deafening if not for the respirator. Slowly, Vader rises to his full height, moving closer. "I believed you dead, unborn in your mother's womb," the Sith Lord explains, a hint of something Luke can't identify in his voice. "There has never been a day when I did not mourn your loss, and when I learned of your existence, I attempted to kill my master, the Emperor. I was not strong enough, so I escaped. Your rebels found me, and here I am."

Luke opens and closes his mouth, suddenly speechless. "That doesn't change that you weren't there when I was growing up," he finally counters.

"It does not," Vader concedes, "But it was Kenobi who hid you from me." Without giving Luke a chance to reply, he holds out his hand, and Luke's lightsaber flies to it.

"Hey!" cries Luke, grabbing for it and missing. He scowls, watching as Vader turns the hilt over in his hands. "Give that back!"

Vader ignores him and ignites the blade, it's familiar hum filling the room. "Kenobi took this from me when he left me for dead." Even through the vocoder, the voice is filled with fury. The blade is extinguished, and Vader holds it out to Luke. "Do you know how to use it?"

"Of course," Luke replies, slightly offended. He can use it, but he's not very skilled.

"Show me," Vader orders. "We can only defeat the Emperor if we work together. I will train you." He crosses his arms, and Luke refuses to be intimidated.

"I'm not going to become a Sith," he declares stubbornly, tightening his grip on his – Vader's – lightsaber. He doesn't move to ignite it either. He doesn't want to learn anything from Vader.

The sound that comes from the vocoder sounds like a chuckle. "You know little of the Force, and there is no one who can train you other than me."

"Of course not," Luke shoots back. "You killed all the Jedi!"

"So I did," Vader concurs, "But that has no bearing on the fact that you must be trained properly to defeat Sidious. He is powerful and will not easily be destroyed."

"Why can't we just blow up his ship?" grumbles Luke. Vader is a Sith. True, he'd always wanted a father, but he doesn't know what to do with a Sith. If Vader teaches him, Luke fears that he could Fall and become as evil as his father. That's not what he wants to happen.

"He doesn't leave the Imperial Center often, and when he does, he's heavily protected. Even if we could theoretically shoot down his shuttle, that would not necessarily kill him," Vader explains ominously. "I would not believe him to be dead without seeing his body at my feet." He gestures with his hand. "As I cannot defeat him alone – my body is far too vulnerable now – the only solution is for you to join me."

"I don't want to Fall," Luke insists. Like you did. The words remain unspoken, but there's no doubt that Vader understands them anyways.

"Fall?" Vader repeats scornfully. "The Force is not split in two. It is one. You cannot Fall simply by learning more about the Force, even from a Sith. Your head has been filled with Jedi dogma, which is completely erroneous."

Luke sighs. He'd come here because – because – he doesn't entirely know why, but if Vader insists on training him, then he'll have to come back, and he doesn't know if he wants to. But at the same time, he does. He craves a father, someone who can fill the void within him. He doesn't possess nearly enough knowledge to properly argue with Vader either.

The silence lengthens, and six respirator cycles pass before Vader shifts his own lightsaber. Luke doesn't know when he got it back, because he didn't have it when he was in a cell. "Show me what you can do," Vader instructs again, and this time, the words are gentler. He can't read Luke's mind, can he? Hopefully not. There's too much that Luke doesn't want his father to know. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He clenches his jaw, and does as he's told, igniting the lightsaber to practice the moves that Ben taught him before he was killed. Vader paces a few feet away before turning back, cape swirling behind him. "How long did Obi-Wan train you?"

"A few hours." Luke scowls slightly, though he feels much less irritated than he did before. He can't change who his father is, but he can get used to it.

"That does not sound like him," Vader mutters, shaking his head. "Come with me. You are not following any particular form, and your stance is abysmal. If you wish to use a lightsaber as a weapon, then you need much more training."

Luke hesitates at the order, clipping his lightsaber back to his belt. Vader seems to sense his reluctance because he gives Luke a searching look. "We can practice outside," he adds. "You have great skill, and I would like to teach you how to harness it."

Those words make him give in. His father wants to teach him. Once Luke knows how to use his lightsaber – and the Force – better, he'll be a proper Jedi. And he'll get to know his father better too. Hopefully. It's worth a try at least.