AN: Again my thanks to my beta readers Lyore and Elizabeth.

All previous disclaimers apply.

Dark Times: Chapter Two

Pale Shelter

Part 10

Darth Vader was striding down the shuttle's ramp before it had settled into the dust. The battle for the base would soon be over and a quick mopping up exercise would deal with the trailing remnants of rebels. Though there had been prisoners taken, early reports indicated that Skywalker was not among them. Vader looked around, taking in the columns of black smoke rising above the tree line from the Rebel encampment in the distance, the squads of troopers prodding captives to the rear of the lines for processing. He suppressed a surge of satisfaction at the fearful glances he received, at how heads bowed as already battered spirits crashed into bleak helplessness at his presence. They all knew they were doomed.

"My Lord Vader!"

He turned finding one of Veers' officer's approaching him. "What is it Captain?"

The man snapped to attention. "The front lines are nearing the base. All outer defences have been eradicated and we have taken prisoners as ordered."

Vader struggled to fight his impatience. He knew all of this. "You are aware of our primary target?"

"Yes, Mi'lord, all troopers have been made aware of Skywalker's description."

"I shall hold you personally responsible for Skywalker's safety, Captain. I suggest you remind them that Skywalker is to be taken alive."

The officer visibly swallowed. "Of course, my lord."

Vader dismissed the officer from his attention and reached out into the Force.

…no one else… A fleeting thought, a feeling of resignation and conviction both under-ridden by a deep, enduring fear, a knowledge of what was to come. Vader frowned, closed his eyes and drew the Force deeper about him, feeling it thicken and strengthen and he searched its twisting threads…

…no one else…

…about me…

…no one else…

His eyes snapped open with sudden realisation, with elation and a dark satisfaction. His son was giving himself up, sacrificing himself to give his compatriots a chance at freedom. A foolish gesture; he would be taken, but there would be no escape for the rebels still on the planet. They would pay for their treachery with their lives, and his son would learn a valuable lesson.

He addressed the Captain. "Bring me a speeder. Have the forward lines halt and maintain their positions. All weapons should be on stun, but they should not fire on any target unless they are provoked. Is that clear?"

"I.. uh.. yes, my lord, as you wish." The confusion was evident in the man's eyes but he still relayed Vader's orders without question.

A speeder was beside him within moments. Vader chose to pilot the craft himself.

ooOOoo

"Leia!"

"I see it!" The princess yelled, her chair in the gun turret pivoted as she followed the ship falling away from the Destroyer. "Another troop carrier heading for the surface."

"Chewie!" Han bellowed into his comm from the other turret. "Follow it down, we need to give the guys down there some more time to get out."

Leia's stomach plunged as Chewbacca brought the Falcon down into Ra'imar's atmosphere, over the burning remains of the base. It was surrounded with Imperial armaments and troopers moving in ever closer, breaking through the forests that surrounded the outpost. Leia was amazed at their numbers for such a small outpost, it seemed like overkill to her. "Han?" she questioned. "Do you see this?"

"I know, I know!" Han's voice sounded troubled, frantic. Leia knew he was thinking the same as she.

Had Luke got out in time?

"Okay, Your Highness, let's see how much damage we can do before we have to cut and run! Let's take out that transport before the troopers get off!"

ooOOoo

Luke bit back a cry as his legs finally gave way under him and he fell to the damp ground. It had become strangely quiet now; no gun fire, no cries, just the monotonous sound of the tanks, of the scout walkers and the soldiers as they marched forward and his own laboured breathing. Luke debating whether he should just sit here to conserve his energy and wait for them to arrive, or to try and stand up and continue on and meet them on their way in.

But he knew he didn't want to do this at all. He wanted to turn and run, flee from what he had been walking toward. But what other choice did he have? It was his fault the Empire was here in the first place. His fault people were dying yet again.

Luke steeled himself, gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. He would do this standing, he was not going to be on his hands and knees when the Empire arrived. That would come later... Luke quickly squashed that though. Not now!

He took another step forward, grimacing at the grating from his ankle, from the spasms of pain that lanced through his back and rib cage. Breathing harshly he glanced up, wincing as he looked into the bright, morning sunlight. He could see them clearly now, the bipedal AT-STs, the smaller 2-M repulsor tanks and the squadrons of stormtroopers. He frowned. Something wasn't right. They were no longer moving, engines idling rather than accelerating. Luke paused, seeing lights winking from the Imperial lines. Macrobinoculars. He wondered if it would do him any good to raise his hands.

But what were they waiting for?

The clouds suddenly closed in, drenching the area with rain and shadow. Then the line of soldiers opened. A speeder broke through heading in his direction, stopping several metres away. Luke's heart hammered harder as Darth Vader stepped out. His knees nearly buckled as his muscles loosened, unwanted tremors shivering through his body. He heaved in a gasp of breath, tried to steady his horror and anxiety, tried to keep his wits about him and not just keel over onto the ground in a puddle of panic.

That thought conjured such a vivid mental image that Luke smiled in spite of himself, nearly laughing aloud while he chided himself for allowing the Dark Lord to have such an effect. But still the fear remained, and anger. A tight twisting, hateful, fury. The man standing waiting for him was the same man who killed his father, whose troopers murdered his aunt and uncle for the crime of buying droids, and who had kill Ben despite the old man drawing back and raising his sword in capitulation.

He frowned, squinted in the growing deluge, blinked away water as it dripped from his hair. Why was Vader standing back, why wasn't he ordering his troopers forward to swamp him, to bind him and drag him to their master's feet? What purpose could this delay have? It only put off the inevitable, made his feelings all that more intense and...

Luke smiled grimly, suddenly understanding. That was the purpose, Vader wanted him swamped by fear. He wasn't about to make it that easy for the Sith Lord. With another breath he swiped rain water and soot from his face and took a faltering step forward.

ooOOoo

Vader's own heart quickened at the sight of his son standing alone in the rain in the middle of the roadway. Even from a distance he could see that Luke had not yet recovered from his interrogation on Escaal. He was slightly bent over and holding one arm close into his rib cage. Vader closed his eyes and reached out with the Force to tentatively touch his son's presence. He smiled. Luke was weakened in body, his spirit damaged by his experiences but his hatred, fear and anger sang in the darkness. However, these were tempered with the feverant belief that he was doing the right thing, saving the lives of his compatriots.

Luke would learn that self-sacrifice rarely accomplished anything and only by living could one achieve their goals.

They both remained still, each regarding the other. Vader could feel his son's curiosity, his heightened anxiety, terror and anger grow with each passing second as he waited, savouring the moment. Then there was something else, and he frowned as he sensed humour and a small, bright, flash of triumph as the boy wiped a hand over his face and limped forward. He fought a momentary flash of pride smiled to himself; his son would not allow his fear to overwhelm him, had decided to end the moment. Had decided to get the inevitable over with.

Vader gestured to the troopers behind him. "Bring him to me." Pride or not, the boy needed to be brought to his knees.

Four soldiers from the front line began to move toward Luke, blasters high and pointed directly at him.

ooOOoo

The sight of the soldiers running toward him dried Luke's mouth. He braced himself for what was to come; for armoured hands taking hold of him, the solders dragging him to their master and...

"Skywalker!"

Luke turned around in horror to find Haslam and Thecla sprinting toward him, opening fire on the approaching soldiers with deadly accuracy.

"No!" He yelled, throwing another look toward Vader. More Imperials were rushing toward them. "Get back!"

There was a roar of engines from above and instinctively he threw himself flat into the gravel road as a large craft dropped from overhead. A shadow passed over him, and lifters gently touched down next to him. Above the noise of the spacecraft he could hear anxious twitters and beeps of an astrodroid. Glancing up he saw the landing gear of an X-Wing fighter only a meter from his head, between him and the Imperial forces. He grinned. Artoo had made it!

Gloved hands pulled him from the dirt. He could hear more pistol fire. Shots coming from the stormtroopers.

"Come on, sir! We need to get you into this bird," Thecla shouted in his ear as Haslam provided covering fire, keeping the soldiers back from them.

"What about you!" he asked, torn, desperate despite his sudden hope that he might get out of this situation after all. But, at what cost?

"We'll be fine, sir!" She pointed up.

Luke followed her finger and grinned at the familiar shape of the Millennium Falcon as it dropped down through the clouds after a troop carrier and opened fire, bringing the craft down in a blaze of fire and noise. The Falcon turned, a hundred and eighty degrees and focused its cannons on the assembled Imperials, sending the soldiers running, toppling Scouts and exploding tanks.

"If you comm the captain for us, he can pick us up!"

"Okay, but I need a leg up!" Luke yelled over the growing tumult of the renewed battle.

"Haslam!" She called, pulling off a few shots of her own. "The Lieutenant-Commander needs a punt up!"

ooOOoo

Enraged, Vader ploughed through his own soldiers, throwing them to the side with a flick of his wrists. "Stun shots only! Skywalker must not be harmed."

He was so close to finally claiming Luke. He could not lose him again. He stalked forward, pulling his lightsaber from his belt to parry the incoming blaster shots. Behind him he could hear the metal footsteps of the AT-STs as they followed, the whine as they adjusted their guns to open fire on the rebel fighter.

No! Luke...

He turned, slashing backward to take the legs out from the closest walker before it could make the shot that would kill his son. It toppled over, crashing on top of a stormtrooper squadron, killing them instantly. That made the others hesitate and again he started forward, snarling as a rebel soldier helped Luke climb into the cockpit of the X-Wing that had come between them. He gripped the saber and prepared to throw it.

ooOOoo

Luke lifted the helmet from the seat as he scrambled into the fighter and quickly jammed it on his head, not bothering even to try and fasten the clasp with his awkward fingers. "Okay, I'm in," he called as he flicked the switch to lower the canopy. "You and Thecla get clear and..." there was a sudden feeling of dread. Luke jerked his head up, just in time to see Vader throw his lightsaber. "No!"

The sabre spun with incredible speed. Luke heard a scream and a horrified shout of "Thecla!" before everything was muted as the canopy closed him off from the sounds of the fight. The sabre flew back into the Dark Lord's hand.

Luke briefly closed his eyes, fighting the urge to climb from the X-Wing and go to the sergeant's aid. She had risked her life to get him to safety, had come back to help him despite the odds against them. The only way to honour her was to continue, despite his own feelings that it should have been him.

Me... it was meant to be me.

He swallowed a rising tide of bile. Tried to focus

"Artoo," he called, as he switched on the comm and the chatter of the battle above the planet flooded his ears. "Get us ready to get out of here as soon as I give the word!." He changed channels "Han, do you read me?"

"Loud n' clear, kid!" Solo sounded wired, full of the battle and pleased to hear him. There was a blast of Wookiee and quiet murmur of a female voice. Although Luke couldn't make out the words, he knew it was Leia. He couldn't help but smile, heartened by her presence. "'You the one in the Wing with Vader glaring at it?"

"That's me," Luke affirmed.

"Figures," Han mumbled.

Luke smiled despite the circumstances. "When I lift off the two troopers with me won't have any cover, I need you to come down and get them."

"There's a lot of Imperial armour there, kid," Han observed, concern in his voice. "I'm not sure what..."

"I'll stay on the ground," Luke assured him, his eyes still on Vader. The Sith Lord was getting closer. "They won't fire, he wants me alive."

There was a brief hesitation. "Okay, Luke, copied and understood." The concern in the Corellian's voice sounded deeper. "Chewie, bring her around. We need to..."

Confidant that Han would do as he asked, Luke cut the connection, switching the comm channel back to the battle above, trying to catch what he faced off planet. There was less chatter now; mainly pilots declaring that they were bugging out, that they had done all they could. That meant he and Han would need to run a gauntlet of TIEs alone. Luke watched the Falcon rake another path through the Imperial lines as Han brought her down behind him, the ramp lowering before the ship touched ground. The Falcon's cannons turned to face the advancing troopers and opened fire as Haslam dragged Thecla's limp body to safety.

The X-Wing shuddered. "Artoo! Shields!" Luke shouted thinking the ship had taken a hit. But it rocked again. The canopy cracked open allowing in the smell of the battle and the death around him. "Artoo? What?" Then he saw Vader standing with his arm outstretched toward him. The X-Wing gave a metallic groan and the canopy inched further up. Stunned at the power Vader was wielding, feeling the strength of the Sith Lord's darkness around his ship, Luke could only watched as the man moved closer.

The ship shuddered again, snapping Luke from his stupor. "Artoo, punch it!" He frantically keyed his comm as Artoo increased the thrust and the X-Wing lifted briefly from the ground before it jerked, bucked, and touched back down, engines whining in protest. "Han! I need help!"

"...else new?" Han broke in, but the Falcon's guns blazed as she rose into the air and the ground around Vader erupted. The Dark Lord stumbled backward and suddenly the X-Wing was free.

"Time to go, Luke!" Han advised.

"I'm with you!" The canopy slammed down and the X-Wing soared into the sky closely followed by the Millennium Falcon.

ooOOoo

Vader picked himself up from the dirt. His measured breathing had quickened, his prosthetic right arm had been damaged; it grated and jerked as he clenched his fingers into a fist and turned his eyes to the sky as his son, disappeared from view. Bitter disappointment filled him, and a sense of failure he had not felt in a long time...

Sand beneath his knees as he made his apologies and a pledge. "But I promise, I won't fail again."

He discarded the memory of his mother's funeral, fought down the momentary feeling of sorrow; that same sense of empty grief he had felt on Escaal when Luke had been snatched from him by the traitor, Rhovan. It was thick, dark and all consuming and the hope of bringing his son to his side had been thwarted for the second time in just a few days.

Hope. Should a Sith even have such feelings?

"Know the power of the dark side. The power to save Padme."

Hope had never granted him anything. Hope was irrelevant and it should be tossed aside.

Vader caught his anger tightly, keeping it close and nurturing the connection it gave him to the Force. He lowered his head as his mechanised breathing settled and he allowed the rush of oxygen to help clear his mind. He may have failed here, but there would be other times, other opportunities. He was sure of one thing; his son would, one day, stand by his side.

"My Lord," the captain came hurrying up to him. " My Lord, the Executor reports that they have the ships under pursuit and..."

"Tell Ozzel to recall his fighters," he rumbled. "Skywalker will not allow himself to be captured now and he is no good to me dead."

"Of course, Mi' Lord."

Vader turned from the man, turned his attention back to the sky. He allowed the rain to wash over his mask, ignoring a momentary desire to feel it wash over him, to feel the cool wetness against his skin once more. He reached out, looking for his son's presence before he was snatched away by hyperspace, but all he was left with were the trailing strands of his son's elation and relief.

To Be Continued in Dark Times: Chapter Three - Rhovan