Note: This part rated M for psychological manipulation and angst
- - - - -
"This is taking too long," Vader interrupted the recitation. He had never been a patient man and now, with his son held tightly in his grasp, he wished to wait no longer. "You have not asked him about the Rebel fleet."
"It takes longer, but it is the best way, My Lord," Quester replied earnestly, "with minimum damage to the subject."
"The Force will mitigate any damage."
"My Lord, we are making great progress. His Force sensitivity makes him more susceptible to the drugs and sleep deprivation. A few more days of this and--"
"My decision is not subject to discussion, Doctor. Do it."
For a moment he thought the physician might rebel, but the officer only nodded and strode from the deck, his back straight, his anger clear. Vader smiled slightly. Quester was a complex man, and his manipulation of Luke, along with his own reactions to his first foray into delicate interrogation, would determine if he had a future as a useful tool for the Dark Lord.
He was familiar with the expression "pounding head", but he had never experienced one until now. Luke groaned and straightened, using his hands to prop himself up. His back ached from slumping across the table, but at least he'd gotten some sleep.
"So why don't I feel better?" he mumbled.
Forcing himself into the shower, he stood, leaning against the wall, under a torrent of cold water in an attempt to clear his senses. Once dressed and feeling cleaner, if not more alert, he checked the pantry listlessly. There was nothing in it that didn't have to be prepared in some way, and he had little energy to work with. For the first time since his imprisonment, he pressed the com button to ask for help.
The gray-haired doctor appeared on the screen. "Do you need something, Commander?"
Luke...hadn't the physician called him Luke? "Food. I'm hungry." His words sounded garbled, and he cleared his throat. "Can I have lunch? Or...dinner? What time is it?" It was suddenly of paramount importance that he know the time. Or the day. Anything that would give him a frame of reference in which to exist.
"I have a patient now, but I will be there later," Quester replied briskly. "In the meanwhile, I suggest that you return to your research. Lord Vader will be expecting answers soon."
The screen flicked off. Answers. What in hells kind of answers did Vader want? Anyway, Luke thought with a touch of his old spirit, Vader isn't the only one who wants answers. So do I.
He sat down in front of the computer monitor. The list of padawans stared back at him. Ben Kenobi's students.
... a student of mine until he turned to evil.
Vader.
"Yes!" His memory wasn't gone, only impaired, and the damned Imps were doing it to him. But he remembered, he remembered! Scanning the names again, he confirmed that Vader wasn't listed. Why not? Had he been taken off the padawan roll call when he was disgraced?
Determined to find an answer, Luke reset the computer's search mode. Immediately it responded with a screen packed with information, including images, of one "Obi-Wan Kenobi". Odd that he hadn't found this information during his earlier searches. He studied the face of a young Ben, seeing little resemblance to the man he had known, other than the piercing eyes. If only there was a photograph of his father...
He scanned the headings, stopping at "Kenobi, Fall of the Jedi and". Though he was hungry, he hoped Quester wouldn't show up before he'd read this. Rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, he scanned the summary eagerly. It was with some disappointment that he saw this was not about Vader and how he and Palpatine destroyed the Jedi. Instead it referred to Kenobi's disappearance and presumed death after a fight with one of his padawans.
That had to be the link to Vader! He searched again, "Kenobi fight padawan", which returned more results than he had anticipated. Seems as though Kenobi and his padawans had been in a lot of battles. Drawing a deep breath, he searched again, this time adding "death" to the parameters.
And there it was. "...though both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker were lost after this fight to the death," he read aloud.
"So, Vader, you thought you'd killed them. But they both lived." With a tight smile, Luke expanded the notation, scrolling backward.
...unexpected betrayal by his padawan, Kenobi was able to defeat Skywalker, though both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker were lost after this fight to the death.
Blinking, Luke reread the partial sentence several times. It didn't make sense. He scrolled back further. There had to be a reference to Vader somewhere.
...confronted Skywalker, who had become Senator Palpatine's protégé and was suspected of masterminding the vicious attack that left the Jedi Council decimated.
He scrolled back, fear and rage blinding him to all but a few descriptive words.
angry
impatient
arrogant
ambitious
...leaving Kenobi with no choice but to eliminate his former student.
Ben...Ben, it was Ben, not Vader...?
"Ben, why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, dazed. He was not prepared to think beyond the lie.
You lied to me.
You lied.
He stared at the monitor screen, but no longer saw anything.
Ben had killed his father. Or thought he had killed him, if Vader was to be believed. But why? And why had Ben told him that Vader killed Anakin? Why had he wanted to set Luke on a path of vengeance against an innocent man? Not that Vader was all that innocent, but...
He stared at the door as it slid open. Quester and Krish Starflyer, both carrying trays. "Thought we'd join you for dinner," Krish announced.
"If you don't mind," Quester added politely.
"Of course not," he said numbly. They were probably both intelligence agents. Why else would a physician and an Imperial Captain of the Guards want to spend time with a Rebel prisoner? But if they were agents, they were damn good ones. Or maybe Luke Skywalker was just slow to clue in to the truth.
Ben, not Vader.
Krish was talking, but Luke paid no attention to him. He watched through narrowed eyes as Quester leaned over the monitor. "Obi-Wan Kenobi killed your father?" the physician mused aloud as he read.
"You sound surprised." Luke shifted his gaze to Starflyer, though he addressed Quester. "You're a good actor."
There was a subtle change in Krish's eyes, the silent, shared recognition of foes.
"Why wouldn't I be surprised?" the doctor asked. "I thought Lord Vader had killed-- or reportedly killed-- your father."
Krish's gaze lowered to the food as he arranged the dishes on the table.
"Did you?" Luke asked slowly. "Oddly enough, Vader isn't mentioned anywhere in the documentation. He's not listed as one of Kenobi's students."
"Well, he wouldn't be, would he?" Quester returned to the table. "Have something to eat. You're overwrought."
Overwrought. That word did not begin to explain what he was feeling. Luke remained standing, staring down at the other two as they loaded their plates. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't Vader be listed? Ben said Vader was one of his students."
"'Darth Vader' is a title, not a name," the physician replied coolly. "I thought you understood that."
A title, not a name.
A title, not a name.
Then Vader was on the list. He was one of those names.
...confronted Skywalker, who had become Senator Palpatine's protégé and was suspected of masterminding the vicious attack that left the Jedi Council decimated.
Skywalker.
...unexpected betrayal by his padawan, Kenobi was able to defeat Skywalker...
Skywalker.
...though both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker were lost after this fight to the death.
Skywalker.
... a student of mine until he turned to evil.
Skywalker.
Vader.
...I promise I will not harm your father...
Vader.
Skywalker.
Vader.
Vader.
Vader.
"Luke, you're upset. Sit down."
With a roar, he flung off the hand that dared to touch him. All his control evaporated, the urge to do violence possessed him like a demon, and he felt fury and terror beyond anything he had experienced before. Krish went flying across the room, crashing against the wall, sliding down to land in a limp heap. The door opened quickly, but before he could react to the intruders, he heard the hiss of a hypo and felt a prick against his neck.
Then he was swallowed by oblivion.