Summary: Their coup is underway. Luke has doubts and is on the verge of losing his faith in their ability to succeed. He needs the care of a loving father to keep going, and Darth Vader must resurrect his Jedi training to help his young son.
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"Why does Organa pity me?"
"Pity?" Oh-oh, that wasn't good. When they were first together, his dad yelled at him for feeling sorry for his condition. "I don't know if that's exactly… um… I don't think it was…."
"It was pity." Vaderkin broke from his programming to give him a side-eye.
He leaned forward to point at the panel. "What does that button do?"
"Luke."
"Fine. Okay, they asked if you were telling the truth about having a chip."
That made his (almost) unpredictable dad chuckle. "The nerve of them to suggest that I would lie."
"I know, right?" Luke winked and decided to hurry through the next bit. "I told them we hadn't discussed it and then I told them about the Suit and your injuries and I think that made them more—"
"What exactly did you tell them?"
"That the suit kept you alive," he said defensively, "when you would've died, and you had no choice about being put in it. Was that okay?"
"Do you believe it was 'okay'?"
"Is that a trick question?" Luke smiled uneasily. "It worked, didn't it?"
"If pity was your objective, yes."
"Not pity— understanding and compassion. And… you know… so they wouldn't blame you for what Vader did. They're totally supportive now. They understood. Even Organa."
His dad grunted (which meant he wasn't upset or angry). "I will never cease to be amazed," he began sternly, and Luke gnawed on his bottom lip, "by your quick wit, particularly when it comes to covering for me."
"Oh." It wasn't the scolding he'd expected, and he was surprised and pleased. "You're welcome."
Now Vaderkin snorted. "However, did you have to mention you and Leia and marriage in the same sentence?"
"Puh-leeeez, that was brilliant! It threw them off track."
"You mean it drew attention away from my thoughtless remark."
"That too." They were both quiet for a few seconds. But as far as Luke was concerned, silence was only a vacuum begging to be filled, especially now. They might not have much time left to talk. "Sooooo…" he began, because he couldn't stop wondering, "I guess Organa doesn't know you were… weren't in the Suit when the Jedi Temple massacre with the…um, younglings and stuff…uh, happened?"
"Apparently not. Either Yoda and Obi-Wan didn't tell him or he's unclear about the timeline. At any rate, you showed cleverness and good judgment."
"I did?" Yes to the cleverness, but he wasn't certain about 'good judgment'.
"Yes, Sparkle." His dad was watching the six blips on the screen that were the Rogues following Nightbird. "That's an excellent nickname. I should have thought of that."
Oh. Crap. "I don't really like it, because… well, actually Organa suggested it."
After a short silence, his father said: "Luke, I had no issues with Organa during the days of the Republic, and your mother trusted him. If you wish to be friendly with him, don't allow your perceived worry about hurting my feelings stop you. I'm fine."
Huh. He wished he had time to think about that. Really, he was so accustomed to dealing with Vader's unexpected mood swings that he wasn't certain how to respond to such reasonableness. "Thanks, Dad," he answered finally. "That's very mature of you."
Another snort.
"Anyway." It was time for a distraction, even if it was only frivolous. "I'm excited to show the guys my room! I'll bet they've never seen anything like it! I have my own quarters in the biggest ship in the galaxy! With games and clothes and—"
"I know you're trying to distract me by being amusing, but it's not necessary."
"Oh." Actually, he'd been serious but now he couldn't admit it. "They're not coming on board the Executor… or are they?"
"Only Narra, and him only briefly. I'll issue new instructions for his squad's mission after they escort the Executor to Yavin, then I want to check with Piett and Veers on the status of the Core Worlds' power shutdown and responses of the New Resistance ships, and—"
"What the hell is the New Resistance?" he blurted unthinkingly.
"The Imperials who are joining me. Us. Or would you prefer I call them 'traitors'?"
Luke sighed. "Fine. Go on. You were saying?"
"I will introduce General Cracken to—"
"General Cracken is coming on board?"
"It's time for you to be All Ears, Bug." The full lips quirked slightly. "Yes, I thought he and Captain Gallia would enjoy plotting together. Then, after I learn if Sidious has made any moves, we're making a quick stop on Vjun—"
Luke opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when his dad glanced his way.
"—after which we'll head to Coruscant unless Sidious has fled elsewhere during the coup."
"Thanks for telling me," he muttered seriously, and didn't spoil his dad's enthusiasm by pointing out that there was no mention of squeezing in meals during all these tasks.
"You're welcome. While I'm on the Executor, why don't you stay here and have a nap?"
A nap? A nap? "Not a chance. I'm going to stay right on your heels so I know everything you know."
"Son, if you knew everything I know, it would age you before your time."
Was that even possible? He was certain he knew more than anyone else his age, and undoubtedly he was going to learn a whole lot in the upcoming days. "Do I have to wear armor while I'm on the ship?"
"Yes." Vaderkin's eyes focused in the distance where a tiny smudge could be seen growing larger with every minute that passed. "Why do you dislike the armor so much? Is it uncomfortable?"
"No, it's just…." He sighed. "When will we get a chance to have a proper hug? I can't feel anything with all this stuff on."
His father chuckled. "We will have time for hugs, Luke."
"Maybe." He frowned. "Hey, why didn't you bring Artoo? You seem very… fond… of him."
"It's too dangerous. Once we find Sidious, worrying about him could hinder us. Artoo has a hero complex and constantly put himself in danger during the Clone Wars."
Well, that was a lot to unpack! Hero complex? "It's too dangerous for Artoo, but not for me? You'd worry about Artoo, but not me? And— and— Artoo has a hero complex!? Really, Dad!"
"Don't be jealous. We'll already be worrying too much about each other. There's no point in adding Artoo to the mix." Surprisingly, his father winked. "He's going with Narra and your Rogues to Tsoss Beacon, then to Coruscant. His expertise will be invaluable and may save their lives."
"What's…?" Luke sighed again, tired of asking questions.
"Tsoss Beacon is an asteroid that hosts an Imperial communications relay station. Destroying that will eliminate the network in the Deep Core and throw more instability into the chaos that is beginning to surround Sidious."
"Okay." Luke wriggled his hands and stared at them. He supposed he should be more excited, but—
"And now, Bug, while we're still far enough away so you don't crash into the ship, do you want to get a feel for Nightbird and fly us to the Executor?"
"Me?!" He continued quickly before his dad could say No, the other Luke again: "You bet I do!"
"Good. But first, stand up." When he did, Vaderkin grabbed him by the waist. One hand thrust into Luke's wrap belt.
"Hey!" His automatic protest faded when Vader began to pull out his snacks one by one. There were more than he remembered. Maybe they'd bred when left alone in the dark.
"You may keep these." His father replaced three protein bars into his sash, then looked pointedly at the colorful sprite sticks that spilled across the console. "How many of those have you eaten?"
"None," he replied stoutly, then actually counted how many there were. Six. Well, that wasn't exactly helpful because he hadn't counted when he'd stashed them. "Well… maybe one."
Vader leaned back in his seat and folded his arms.
"Fine! Two! No more than three anyway! I think. Are you happy now?!" He gasped when his father tossed the sticks in the disposal. "Hey, we might need those!"
"We? I think not. You're wound up enough. And now I see the self-appointed head of your fan club is catching up. Shall we land and greet him?"
"Who—?" Oh, Narra. "I can't help that I'm so lovable."
"I know you can't, it's inherited. Now sit down and take the controls."
Which he did, flying toward the distant behemoth and eventually landing in the private hangar, perfectly of course, because he was the Son of the Greatest Jedi Pilot Ever and A Pretty Good Pilot Himself. Probably better than 'pretty good' because his dad had once told him he was a natural, which was true. Flying came as easily as breathing for him.
Commander Narra's x-wing followed them into the hangar, and Luke waited until his former boss climbed down and spoke. "That was an amazing sight. The ship is bigger than I imagined. Blindfolded as I was the last time I was here," he added to Luke, who grinned.
"Too bad the other guys couldn't come on board, it's pretty cool."
"Yes, they were disappointed after I briefed them on our mission. I described the little that I'd seen of the interior, but Janson wanted to see your room."
Luke sent his father an accusing look.
"I said it was nice, but not full of the riches he was imagining."
He sniffed. "You just didn't look close enough."
"You've only been separated for just over an hour," Vader interrupted. "Are you finished with your reunion so we can begin the takeover?"
Narra looked chastened, but Luke rolled his eyes. "Awaiting your orders, General Sir Lordship!"
Continue this attitude to ensure you will not get a hug.
Luke murmured meekly, "Sorry," even though both he and his dad knew it was an empty threat.
"There is some good news," Narra intervened, earning their attention. "The shutdown must be working because ChitChatChannel is down." He chuckled, then sobered when no one else laughed. He cleared his throat. "Of course, all holo channels are off, I just thought…."
"I understand, Commander." His father didn't sound impatient or annoyed. He must really like the commander. They were a mutual admiration society of three.
Piett and Veers arrived, thereby increasing the society's membership to five. Greeting one another involved: General - Admiral - General - Commander - Admiral - General - General - Commander and then a slightly awkward Luke.
Still want a title? his father asked.
No, thanks. Oh, wait! Maybe I could be 'my lord' since you're not using it.
"Come along, Prince Luke," Vader said, which garnered a few snickers from Admiral and Commander and a stifled sigh from General (the Imperial one who wasn't his dad).
But he feared the endless introductions weren't over when they were hustled into the conference room adjoining the hangar to meet with the original group of conspirators, with the addition of the new Rebel General.
"I hope you've already introduced yourselves to General Cracken," he piped up and added: "Hi, it's me, Luke!"
His father's hand grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him down into a chair— next to his dad this time instead of at the important foot where he was before. "Reports," Vader snapped.
Okay, Luke thought maybe he was pushing too many buttons, so he settled down and tried to listen attentively. Things seemed to be going really well. Veers and Piett and a lot of unrecognized-name commanders had been isolating the territorial governors that remained loyal to Palpatine— fewer than expected.
"His own economic policies have contributed to his downfall," Vaderkin explained in response to his questioning look. "Nothing raises or tanks a dictator faster than profits denied or stolen. The Moffs will be more difficult to sway, so I will leave them in power for the time being. Or so they will believe," he added darkly.
Luke leaned forward and dropped his chin onto the table, sighing. Well, why not? He supposed his dad was as likely to manipulate Imperial leaders as Rebellion leaders.
"The 501st stationed on Coruscant has been joined by the majority of the Imperial City Protection Fleet," Commander Jir confirmed after a glance at Luke. "Our troops from Mustafar have locked down that region of the Outer Rim. Commander Aouli is awaiting your orders to activate the Vjun squadrons."
"If communications are down, how are you—" Luke began, but his confusion must have been obvious because Captain Gallia answered the question before he finished asking it.
"A network of spies relaying updates. Rather like a bucket brigade." The Chiss smiled and looked at Vader. "You were correct, my lo— General Skywalker. Sometimes the old ways are more reliable."
"Indeed." His father nodded. "Particularly since, according to Commander Narra, we don't have ChitChatChannel to rely on."
The mood in the room lightened, either from Vaderkin's words or the prospect of success. The Sith (but was he still?) stood, and Luke rose with him. "Contact me via our private link as needed. Once my son and I locate Palpatine, we—"
"Might be too busy to answer," Luke interjected. "So leave a message."
"Thank you, young one. Captain Lekauf, is—"
"Wait! Aren't you going to tell them about the New Resistance ships?"
"The what?" General Cracken asked sharply.
"Nothing," Vaderkin responded with a hint of weariness. "Never mind. Captain Lekauf, is TwoOneBee stowed on Nightbird?"
"Prince TwoOneBee," Luke whispered.
"Yes, sir." His father's longtime aide stood as did everyone else at the table. "We will all do our utmost, sir. Good fortune to you both."
"Thank you, and may the Force be with us all. We will end this Empire and restore peace to the galaxy," Vaderkin declared, inclining his head before putting his hand on the small of Luke's back to turn him toward the door. He paused. "One word of caution. Never leave sprite sticks where a young one can find them."
A ripple of amusement ran through the room, and Luke flushed and scowled. Are you APOLOGIZING for me? I didn't do anything!
No, I 'covering' for you. Now—out!
Like he had a choice! Looking at the expanse of the hangar, he had a wild idea that he could run away. Just steal a ship and maybe hide for awhile. Everything was starting to be real. He twisted the silver bracelet around on his left hand. 501 501 501 501. They weren't just numbers any longer. They meant soldiers fighting, wounded, dying, ships exploding…. The numbers meant devotion and bravery. They meant the 501st (would they still be called Vader's Fist?) were part of the Rebellion. The Galactic Alliance. Everything that was happening was what Anakin Skywalker (Darth Vader?) wanted. And it was what Luke wanted. It was what they'd worked for and planned for and hoped for. And it was happening today.
This was their dream for the future, and he believed in it. But…it was happening too fast. Too soon. It was too much.
He felt his father's hand slide up his back to squeeze his shoulder, and his dad's clear blue eyes looked down on him, full of understanding and determination and love.
Luke decided to try breathing again.
He breathed the entire time they took off and the forever time it took for his dad to program multi-jumps to Vjun, and he was still breathing when they entered hyperspace and his father left the controls and went to the central galley area where he halted and quirked his finger at Luke. Maybe they were going to eat! So he followed and stopped in front of Darth Anakin, who removed his chest armor and morphed into an immovable wall.
Luke slumped. "I sense another lesson beginning."
"You are not wrong." Vader smiled. "But first…." He unfastened Luke's shoulder pauldrons, unhooking the mysterious back latch and laying them aside. Then he pulled off the gloves and removed the protein bars before unwinding the sash. Luke was content to simply stand and be undressed like a child, but when his dad kneeled and unwrapped the shin shields, it was over.
"I can take off my own boots," he offered.
"Leave them on." Vader relaxed into an oversized chair that looked way too comfortable to be standard ship's gear. He patted his lap.
"Oh no!" Luke rolled his eyes. "I'm too old to—"
Then he was floating over until his butt was snuggled in the chair and his legs draped over his father's lap. When one arm curved around his back and pulled him against the broad chest, he surrendered with a sigh and nuzzled his face in the crook of his dad's neck.
"Better?"
"Mm-hmm." The tension drained from him slowly as if his father was siphoning it out. Maybe he was. "Sorry about the sugar."
The rumble of laughter vibrated against his ear. "You know it's not a sugar high that's driving your anxiety. Your worries are not unreasonable."
Oh. Was that good or bad? Before he could add that to his list of worries, his dad continued.
"You are not listening to the Force. You aren't allowing it to flow through you." Fingers stroked his hair. Thankfully the wig didn't move. "Was stopping the missile too hard on you?"
"I did it!" He pushed his head against the hand.
"You did. I knew you wouldn't fail. Your confidence needed that boost, but now I wonder if it was the wrong moment— if endangering your friends was an unwise burden to place on you."
He remembered thinking that for a second, but he'd also known his father wouldn't let the missile strike. "Yeah. But the other thing…."
"Which one?"
"You know." He tried to make himself smaller so he could fit in his dad's embrace like a baby. "When the Suit… when Vader died."
"Oh." Vaderkin sighed, his fingers carding through the hairs, tugging gently. "The glue appears to be sufficiently strong."
"You sound surprised." Luke shifted slightly, indicating his need to burrow closer.
His father's hand cooperated by sliding down to caress his cheek before wrapping around him. "Each time I pass by a mirror," his dad murmured, "I see your hair on my head and think again how blessed I am to have such a sweet and generous son. And how close Vader came to never knowing you."
Oh. "Stop, I'm melting," he protested, though he didn't care if he turned into a puddle on the floor. It occurred to him that this was how he wanted to die, held in his father's arms— And then he felt his dad stiffen in shock.
The hand caught his wrist and squeezed. "Do not despair about such a thing. Do not plan or anticipate, do not wish for—"
"No, I'm not. I just mean… I can't imagine anything more perfect as a last memory. I mean… it's not a premonition or anything, it's just… just…."
"Close your eyes." For a fleeting moment his dad's voice sounded troubled, then it smoothed into soft velvet. "We are one with the Force. Meditate with me. Breathe in the Force, inhale the life surrounding us. Exhale and allow it to fill the galaxy. The joy we feel when we touch, when we know love, they are momentary manifestations of the all-encompassing glory of the divine Force. We are fortunate ones, able to feel its brilliance and power, able to gather it into our hearts, embrace and direct it. We are not Light or Dark because there is only the Force and we are All. Though one day our flesh forms will fade, my little one, we will always be together. We will always know each other. We will be one with each other as we are one with the Force. Put aside your sorrows and breathe with me, and you will see the truth of everything. The Force is all, and we are the Force."
Yes. He was not just Luke, he was….
You are the Force.
We are the Force.