AN: Thank you to all who have stayed with this series and an special thanks to those who have been kind enough to leave a review. Many thanks to Kazlynh for reading over this part pf the tale. Any mistakes are mine alone.

All previous disclaimers apply.

Dark Times: Chapter Four

Conflict

It had been raining continuously since the attack and now, several days later, the ground was saturated; a soft and marshy quagmire. The AT-ST's had been returned to the Executor after several had become stuck in the deepening mud. The search for any stray rebels on the planet had been given over to the repulsor tanks and foot patrols.

The search of the fallen base and surrounding area was winding down and the final rebel stragglers had been herded in with those caught in the initial assault. Blaster shots rang out as the stormtroopers began dispatching the enemy wounded who had been languishing in pain in open pens since their capture. Shouted orders echoed as Imperial officers dragged out those they believed could yield more information, they were bound together and march to waiting shuttles. Other rebels; still and dejected after days of questioning, were lined up before a firing squad.

Darth Vader watched dispassionately as many turned their faces to the sky and allowed the water to run in rivulets off their skin, knowing it would be last sensation they would ever feel and relishing their final moments.

As the shots rang out they crumbled to the ground and were replaced by another group.

Vader turned away, aware of the water that ran over his mask, aware that, as with the dead rebels, he would never again feel rain on his face. He allowed his next regulated breath to burn in his lungs, allowed the pain to permeate through him, infuse into his being. It lessened the loss he felt, the unwelcome grief that had lingered since Escaal when his son was snatched from him and the new spur that had stabbed home when Luke's x-wing had soared into the clouds. It lessened the loss and fired his anger.

He tightened his fist as his breath was expelled; the wet leather creaked as it tightened over his prosthetic fingers. No rain, no touch, no sensation. But there was pain, always pain, and he used it to strengthen himself in much the same way as he had suggested to Luke on Escaal. He used the pain, used his anger and hatred to drive him, to nourish him. His hatred and anger for those who had caused the pain.

Obi-Wan...

The Jedi...

But they are gone. Your revenge on them complete.

No, it was not complete. They had taken his child, his son, and turned him against his father.

You struck him. He fears you.

As he should.

You killed his mother...

Had he? Or had the nightmare been true.

"It was only a dream."

Padme.

He should hate her, too. He should scorn her name, refuse to think of her.

"Obi-Wan was right. You've changed."

Changed.

"I'm not the Jedi I should be.... I want more."

He closed his eyes at the echo of his own voice, young, unencumbered by his mask and his pain. He had been lost at that moment, torn and unsure.

Conflicted.

"You must choose!"

And he had. He had chosen power; the power that was to save his love, the power that ultimately had failed him and left him bereft and empty. A shell for the dark side, a vassal for Sidious to control and order...

"I want more..."

The problem always seemed that he didn't know what more he wanted. Being a Jedi had not been enough, being in love was not enough, having power had not sated his need.

Until he had discovered Luke.

And he finally knew what he wanted, what he needed, what would give him satisfaction. He had not realised it when Padme had told him of her pregnancy, had been too young, too blind to appreciate what a child would mean.

"Our baby is a blessing..."

He could still her. The japor snippet resting against the skin of her neck, her large eyes looking to him for reassurance. He had given it, but he hadn't really felt it. Everything had been changing around them, the Jedi and the Chancellor vying for control and he and Padme had been caught in the middle; pawns for both.

Their child adding to the pressures.

He closed his eyes, tried to focus against the memories that had been surfacing more and more since he had found that his child had survived. Memories that he wanted no part of, memories that belonged to another time and another man. He was Anakin Skywalker no more.

And yet, you claim his son.

He growled low in his throat at the mocking inner voice that had sounded like Obi-Wan. Smug, words spoken with a smile as he pointed out the obvious to his padawan.

And a part of him wished that Obi-Wan was still alive, that the old man had lived to see the day that Luke would be his. The day that Luke would stand by his father's side and...

... a twist of anger, agitation.

A flickered in the Force. He caught it, followed its trail. He smiled as he caught Luke's signature. He had found his son. The boy was unsettled, was struggling against intense emotions and...

"You are his weakness..."

A dark figure standing by his mother's grave. A tall figure, hooded and cloaked against the Tatooine winds.

"And you have a strength within you that he craves."

Vader knew the voice that echoed, knew it but couldn't place it. He knew he had heard it briefly a long time ago. He strained to know more, to see more. Confused by the images of Tatooine.

That voice, it sounded like...

"This is my girlfriend, Beru."

Beru....

The woman Owen Lars had eventually married. The woman Luke called "aunt." The woman killed along with her husband for harbouring rebel owned droids.

He gathered the Force to him. Chased after the images that Luke was unconsciously sending out.

A lightsaber. Blue blade being deactivated. A cloth rubbing away dirt and stains from the familiar hilt. A room, small and plain. A mountain outside the window, its side green and lush, its peak covered with rolling dark clouds of...

"My Lord?"

He roared at the interruption as the scene was torn from him, his temper surging. He threw out his arm and the officer who had spoken was thrown several feet to land and tumble through the puddles. It suddenly grew quiet as troopers and officers alike stopped what they were doing to look in his direction. He ignored them as he strode across to the fallen officer, reached down and dragged the scared and bedraggled man to his feet. "What is it, Lieutenant?" he asked, frustration biting his words.

The officer tried to snap to attention, tried to speak through the mud that clung to his face. "The... the last of the prisoners... have been disposed of," the young man swallowed, tired not to look up at the Dark Lord who towered over him. The man who had pushed him away without even touching him. "Those with rank have been transported to the ship and the patrols can find no trace of any other escaped Rebels..."

"Then we are finished here. Destroy what is left of the base and recall your men." He turned away, his gaze turning to the road and the spot where his son had stood several days ago. Alone and resolute. So close...

"Yes, My lord, but..."

Vader squashed his impatience, tore his eyes from the trail and looked around. "What?" he barked.

The young man swallowed, nervously. "We have a communication from Imperial Centre. The Emperor is asking for you, sir."

"Have my shuttle brought to me."

"At once, my Lord," the Lieutenant acknowledged quickly and he practically ran to obey the given order.

Vader turned to the road way once more and closed his eyes, feeling his way through the force, trying to find his son. But the voice was silent and the path empty.

ooOOoo

He knelt to the large holographic image of Darth Sidious and uttered words learned so well that they were automatic and spontaneous. "What is thy bidding, my master."

Palpatine leaned forward, towering over his servant. "You are not on Escaal, my friend."

"No, master. I followed the Rebel pilot to Ra'imar and have destroyed a Rebel outpost that..."

"You assignment was Escaal. Your assignment was to find the Rebel pilot, to make an example of him, to bring the local population into line." The Emperor reminded him.

"The local population will no longer question your authority, master," Vader assured him. "However, the Rebel pilot had been captured and questioned before my arrival. He was freed by the Primary Interrogator who..."

"Yes, I know," the emperor interrupted. "Major Rhovan has disappointed me. A promising officer corrupted by sentiment for a rebel boy. Neither will be shown mercy when they are brought before me."

Fear flared in the pit of his stomach at the statement. Sidious knew about Rhovan, he must also know that Luke was the captured pilot. The name of the rebel who had destroyed the Death Star had been known for some time and still they had both to openly acknowledge it, to discuss it, to recognise Luke as his son. Vader had to wonder what game was being played, and by whom. "I shall seek them out, master," he vowed, despite his own misgivings. "And bring them to you."

"In time, my friend," Sidious soothed him, with a smile. "I have a task of a different nature for you. This petty uprising needs ended. The Rebel Alliance should be brought to its knees. The population of the Galaxy needs to see them as terrorists and insurgents."

"Yes, master," Vader agreed.

Palpatine continued. "The research facility orbiting Cusrean is old and obsolete. I intend to move the personnel to better facilities to pursue their studies. I want you to oversee its closure and transfer of personnel. I want you to ensure the operation goes smoothly."

"Master, that task is..." Vader started to protest, not understanding why he was being given such a menial assignment. He was above such work, he was...

"Once the facility is stripped, you will refit it as a refugee processing centre. Fill it with the widows and orphans of this war."

Confused, Vader tried again. "Master I..."

"The transfer is to occur in utmost secrecy. Its status should remain active. Allow your presence to be seen. Allow the knowledge that the Cusrean facility is being upgraded and that the bio-weapons research has made a breakthrough to leak to the Bothans."

Vader's mind turned, trying to follow what the Emperor was saying. "You are baiting a trap." He finally stated.

The emperor grinned, eyes glowing yellow. "The Rebels will strike. Their soft sentimentality will drive them to take action once they learn of the experiments. They will strike Cusrean in the belief that it is a weapons facility and they will destroy a refugee centre.

"The galaxy will be outraged at the death of civilians, at the deaths of hundreds of helpless beings. The rebellion will lose support across the star systems, allowing us to exploit their weakness. A code spliced in with the data received by the Bothans will allow us to trace its route. We will then flush out the subversive elements within our own intelligence and strike a major blow against this miserable rebellion." He paused, his voice softened. "Then you may chase your pilot once more."

Vader bowed his head. "As you wish, my master."

ooOOoo

Darth Sidious terminated the holo connection and turned from the device to the wide panoramic window that framed the view of twilight on Imperial Centre. Towers and spires rose into the darkening sky and high above them the traffic lanes were clogged with vehicles, as they were at all hours. Higher still, great Star Destroyers, silhouetted against the fading sunlight, moved through the atmosphere surrounded by swarms of patrolling TIE fighters.

He smiled at the spreading darkness. All was as it should be. He, the Sith, had realised their Empire once more. They had hidden, passed knowledge from Master to apprentice through tens of generations and they held the Galaxy in their grip once more. This time, there would be no relinquishing, no capitulation and loss.

The Jedi no longer existed to stand against them.

His apprentice had been the key, the hammer behind his power. The Jedi's precious Chosen One, the one who was to bring balance had wrought only destruction on the Jedi and he had done so with vengeance and lust, with a passion for revenge so strong that it almost surpassed that of his master.

Sidious smiled. Yes, all was as it should be.

Including this rebellion. This was meant to be, for how else could he function with nothing on which to focus and build his efforts, to assist in the consolidation of his power? How else could he function with nothing to suppress, to crush?

The rebellion served its purpose and in time he would wipe them out as he had with the Jedi and the Separatists. Then he would wait until another small voice spoke out against him and he would nourish it, allow it room to grow and flourish, give it hope. Then he would crush that, too. That was his goal, his game, his way of asserting his power, his darkness.

Conflict.

Thin lips pursed as he considered the word, eyes flashing yellow.

It would also appear that Darth Vader was experiencing his own conflict. The appearance of the rebel pilot who carried the name of Skywalker had struck a cord within his apprentice. One, that perhaps, Sidious had been mistaken to encourage.

He had thought that once Vader had been confronted by the ignorant youth that he would have been disappointed, would have dispatched the untrained boy in the same manner as the younglings from the Jedi temple. However, the boy had proven to have more strength than he had first considered and Vader had been impressed, proud. His servant's feelings for his son had resonated through the Force. Vader was becoming fixated, obsessed. It was a trait that Sidious had manipulated in the past, used it for his own ends...

"Know the power of the Darkside. The power to save Padme."

He linked his fingers, rubbed his knuckles against his chin as he watched the traffic flow, the lanes and paths of vehicles spinning an intricate web before his eyes much as the Force was spinning in his mind.

The boy was strong, even he had felt it as the Force support the youth throughout his ordeal on Escaal and beyond. He had felt the bursts of light as the boy had fought to defend himself, had felt his radiance push back the blackness even if only briefly. But he had also felt more; stirring beneath the pilot's light was fear and rage and hatred. Feelings so strong that the shadows had sang, had resonated with his power.

Later he had viewed the recordings of the interrogation from Escaal, had watched as Rhovan was revealed to be the Escaal Resistance Commander, watched as Vader had inspected his bloodied and beaten child, watched as Skywalker had struggled to resist his torture and won the fight.

Perhaps Skywalker's son warranted closer inspection. Perhaps the boy's burgeoning powers required investigating; perhaps... just perhaps the boy could be of some use.

A Father pitted against a son who did not know his origins.

A Father pitted against a son who fought for the enemy.

A son unaware of his powers and potential importance.

A son who could bring down a Rebellion.

The Chosen One and his son.

Sidious smiled and turned from the window, robs rustling softly in the quiet of the room as he walked back toward the holo console and activated it. He quickly entered the scrambling code and embedded it in the signal. He didn't need to wait long.

"I am yours to command, my Emperor." The tiny figure bowed.

"You are in place?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"And young Skywalker?"

"He has been suitable chastised."

"Good, you have pleased me."

"I live to serve only you."

Palpatine ignored his servant's ingratiating. "There is a change to your orders. You are to observe Luke Skywalker and report on his activities for the Rebellion. I want the specifics of any Jedi abilities he displays, of any task that will bring him close to Lord Vader."

"As you wish."

"Watch him," The Dark Lord warned. "Watch him closely."

"Yes, my master..." The figure bowed further as Sidious broke the connection.

Yes, everything was as it should be.

ooOOoo

To be continued in Dark Times Chapter Five: "A Legitimate Target".