Kix was a miracle worker. Kix was a kriffing miracle worker and if Vader had had any room left in his heart for romance, he'd have asked the clone to marry him. He didn't, though; the only person he'd ever been able to love in that way was Padme.
Padme… What would she think of him now? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Vader winced involuntarily as Kix poked his fingers with a small needle. Yes, fingers. Somehow, despite spending most of each day removing control chips from dozens of his brothers, Kix had found time to continue Vader's treatment, and finally, finally, he had limbs again.
"Alright, the touch sensors seem to be working properly." Kix put the needle away and checked something off on a data pad. "Now, I need you to touch each finger to your thumb one at a time, starting from your pinkie."
It was practically torture, to have limbs again and yet still be stuck in the med bay doing tests. Even so, Vader did as he was told. As much as he wanted to get up and do something, they had to make sure his arms and legs were working first.
He wasn't even sure what he wanted to do first. Had Luke been within reach, the answer would probably have been hug his son, but Luke and Obi-Wan had departed a few days before to inspect some nearby Republic medical facilities. They would be back soon enough, but for the moment, Vader was stuck on the Resolute as his younger self escorted a convoy of supply ships to the Bith System.
Vader went through the finger exercise three times before Kix nodded his approval. "Alright, Sir, very good. You can try to sit up now—without using the Force, please."
Finally! Vader levered himself up slowly, turning to rest his feet on the floor as he perched on the edge of the medical bed. Soon…
"How does that feel, Sir?"
"It's… I have not felt this good in a long time." While not as advanced as Luke's prosthetic, Vader's new limbs were worlds better than what he'd worn under Sidious' command. They fit properly, for one, and… "There is no pain…"
Kix almost looked offended at that. "I should hope not, Sir. Why would there be pain?"
"My previous prosthetics were ill-fitting and heavy. They were… meant to hurt. Sidious intended to keep me in as much discomfort as possible without rendering me non-functional. It was meant to fuel my anger and increase my power in the Dark Side."
The medic gave off such a surge of rage that Vader almost expected something to shatter, despite knowing for absolute certain that Kix was not Force-sensitive. As it was, Kix gripped the stylus he was holding hard enough that it broke. His eyes promised murder.
"Sir… When we execute Chancellor Palpatine… I would like to be the one to strike the finishing blow. The medical malpractice… There's so much that could have been done better if you'd been brought to a proper medic immediately."
"I do not know if that can be arranged, but I will see what we can do."
Sighing through his nose, Kix fetched a new stylus and returned to the business at hand. His voice was even more terse than usual as they continued. "Alright, Sir, I need you to wiggle your toes, and if you can do that, rotate your ankles. Slowly, please."
Toes… He had toes again. Vader's previous leg prosthetics hadn't been quite that detailed. He stared at his feet as he did what Kix asked. They were the same durasteel grey as the floor, armoured and dully shining and infinitely better than the heavy matte black he was used to. His new arms matched them. While Vader hadn't cared, at first, Luke had been adamant about his new prosthetics not being black, and now that he saw them, Vader had to agree.
"Alright, Sir, you're doing excellently."
Then, without warning, Kix hit him in the knees with a small rubber mallet. Vader bit back a yelp, more surprised than hurt. His legs twitched in what seemed to be an appropriately realistic fashion, judging by Kix's approving hum. Vader shot the medic what he hoped was a reproachful look, although given his scars, he wasn't sure how his facial expressions came across anymore.
"What was that for?"
"I had to test your reflexes, Sir." Putting his data pad aside, Kix stood up and held out his hands. "Alright, you can try to stand now. Lean on me if you need to."
He had been the Emperor's Bloodhound, and before that, the Hero with No Fear. He should not have to lean on anyone. Vader slowly levered himself up. His balance was off; he could feel that. But as long as he moved slowly, he was okay.
"What next?"
"Next, you try and walk with me a bit." Kix held out a hand pointedly. "And this time, I recommend leaning on me. At least for your first few steps. You're likely going to be unsteady for the next few days as you get used to things."
He said recommend, but Vader knew it was no recommendation. It was an order. Until he could prove that he was healthy and capable enough to leave the med bay, Kix technically outranked him. Sighing, Vader begrudgingly allowed the medic to support him as he made a few slow circuits around the room.
It wasn't his first time learning how to walk with new legs. Vader knew what to do; he grew steadier with every step.
"Very good." Kix pulled away as they returned to Vader's medical bed. "Now you can try walking on your own a bit. I want you to go to my desk, pick something from the fruit bowl, and come back here."
It was only the smallest bit of freedom, but… Vader realised with a shock that it was one of the first tastes of it he'd had in years. The freedom to choose his own fruit… How pathetic. And yet how wonderful.
True, even after the procedure to try and repair his ravaged organs, there was a long list of things he was not supposed to eat, but nothing in the fruit bowl was forbidden.
Vader picked up a jogan fruit, wincing as his metal fingers dug into the soft flesh, piercing it slightly. Right… Grip strength. That was always the hardest part for him when adjusting to new hands. Every prosthetic responded with slightly different grip strength.
Returning to the bed, Vader sat down and bit into the fruit while Kix made notes. And oh, oh… It had been so long since he'd tasted something so sweet. The tender purple fruit was almost too ripe, without even the slightest hint of tartness. After two decades of nothing but vita paste to sustain him, even the bland soup he'd been allowed since being removed from the bacta tank had seemed a luxury. The sweet, sticky fruit was nearly overwhelming.
Vader used the Force to keep the juice from dripping down his face and hand, both to preserve his dignity and to avoid wasting any of that delicious, delicious sweetness. Obi-Wan would probably have said it was a frivolous use of his powers, but Obi-Wan could go swallow a pouch of vita paste.
. . .
Seriously, that stuff had been awful.
Kix was staring at him. "Sir… Sir, are you crying?"
Was he…? There was something warm and wet on his face. Vader hummed in surprise, wiping his eyes on the back of his free hand. It wasn't much, but yes… Yes, there had been a few tears there. How pathetic…
"I… have not had anything so delicious in more than twenty years…"
"Ah. I understand. Don't worry, Sir; I won't tell anyone."
Vader forced himself to eat slowly, savouring the fruit. It wasn't much, and yet it was more than enough. He actually felt a bit nauseous when he was done, his body unused to solid food. But the nausea was so, so worth it.
He could finally share a meal with his son. Properly.
Finishing, he rose. "I would like to speak with General… Anakin." He still wasn't sure whether it was more awkward to call his younger self by his name or his title.
He had taken all of two steps towards the door when Kix grabbed him by the shoulder. "Wait just a moment, Sir. You can't leave yet."
"I… And why not?" Had they missed one of the tests to make sure his limbs were functioning properly?
"Because if you go dramatically storming up to the bridge like I know you're about to, you're going to give the entire 501st an excellent and unwanted view of your ass, Sir.
. . .
What?
Vader stared at the medic in stunned silence. Kix sighed, palm meeting his forehead.
"The hospital gown, Sir."
Ooooooh… Vader peered down at what he was wearing as if seeing it for the first time. Standard hospital gown in 501st blue. So light he barely felt it, after years of wearing heavy armour… And open at the back.
"I… My apologies. It has been some time since I have worn proper clothing. I… seem to have forgotten what it feels like."
"Yeah, I thought as much. Just wait a bit, Sir; I asked Stitch to make you something when construction started on your prosthetics. He's on his way up."
"Thank you." Vader paced around the infirmary, unwilling to sit back down so soon after he'd spent so long helpless in bed. A stray thought made him pause mid-step.
"How… How did Quartermaster Stitch obtain my measurements?"
"He dragged General Skywalker in to act as a sewing form." Kix smirked, chuckling. "The general was not amused."
Now that was a funny image. Vader struggled to contain his laughter, although he wasn't sure why he felt the need to conceal it. He was no longer under the thumb of his dark master; surely he was allowed small moments of amusement?
Kix frowned at him, puzzled. "Sir… What's so funny?"
No, there was no more containing it. Not for him. Never again. Anyone who told him he wasn't allowed to laugh was getting shoved off a catwalk. Vader doubled over, wheezing, his lungs struggling to keep bringing in enough oxygen. Kix's confusion became concern.
"Sir…"
"My counterpart was made to act as Mannequin Skywalker." Vader let himself fall, sitting cross-legged on the floor, his new limbs trembling as he continued to laugh and wheeze.
Horror. Kix radiated horror and macabre fascination as he stared down at Vader. "Sir… Did you just… make a dad joke?"
"A… A what?" Vader frowned. The pause finally gave him a chance to catch his breath. He thought about using the new respirator that had been made for him, but decided against it. While he would need it for periods of exertion, he was sure he'd be fine for now. "What is a dad joke?"
"It's… a bad pun, Sir. Typically associated with fathers trying to be funny, but who are perceived by their offspring as embarrassing."
Oh. Well, that explained why he didn't know what it was. Sidious had heavily discouraged any attempts at being funny as unbecoming of a Sith Lord, and he'd only recently begun to have positive interactions with his son. Although that brought up another concern…
"Do you… Do you think Luke is embarrassed to have me for a father?"
"Of course not, Sir." Kix swatted him lightly over the head with a rolled-up medical printout. "I don't think Commander Luke is capable of being embarrassed, and from what I can tell, he loves you very much."
There was no lie in his words, and Vader knew from Luke's presence in the Force that what Kix said was probably true. He sighed. "I do not deserve his love… Not after what I have done…"
"And if that was all there was to it, I would agree with you." Kix folded his arms and leaned against a wall. Vader flinched, unable to meet the medic's eyes. "However, the galaxy deserves better from you. Commander Luke deserves better from you. And since the commander deserves a father, that is the role you need to fill."
"He's an adult…"
"That doesn't mean he doesn't need or want you."
Vader sighed, but did not respond. He could feel the darkness swirling around him as his mood dropped, a hungry whirlpool in the Force. It would be so easy to let it in, to cover his regrets with rage, but… What did he even have to be angry at? Only himself.
He shoved the darkness away.
A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Quartermaster Stitch came in without even waiting for an answer, carrying a large bundle of cloth and plastoid.
"Alright, Kix, it's done."
"Excellent. Thank you, Stitch."
Vader rolled hesitantly to his feet and approached as Stitch laid out the bundle on a medical bed. There were two outfits there. One was a set of soft grey and blue robes in the Jedi style, and the other…
"Why have you brought me a suit of armour?"
Stitch swallowed nervously, radiating fear. Vader didn't blame him; this was the quartermaster's first time meeting either of the time travellers, and Vader knew most would find his son easier to handle than himself.
"General Kenobi and Commander Luke requested it, Sir. They said that disguising yourself as one of the vod'e would allow you to move more freely through the fleet, since the nat-born officers still don't know you exist. Kenobi thought it best to wait until he'd had a chance to brief the Jedi Council in person before making your presence widely known."
That… was probably a good plan. At the very least, it meant he wouldn't have to deal with trying to explain time travel to someone like Admiral Yularen. Clones were used to Jedi Force nonsense; standard Republic officers weren't. And… Yularen had joined with the Emperor. He wasn't as bad as Tarkin, no, but he still wasn't someone Vader was willing to trust at the moment.
Although… "I have the opposite problem to my son—I am too tall to pass as one of you."
Stitch paled, but Kix just waved him off. "There's some variation, Sir, based on injuries and such, and you know that some of us possess cosmetic mutations, despite the Kaminoans' best efforts. You being a bit tall is no issue."
"I… Thank you."
Vader slipped behind a curtain to give himself some semblance of privacy as he dressed. If it was just Kix, he wouldn't have bothered—the medic had seen more of him than Vader had of himself, by this point—but it would spare Stitch's sensibilities. It took… rather longer than he would have liked to put on clothing. His fingers were clumsy, both from being new and his not having had to deal with clothing in two decades.
The armour was… almost perfect. It was ever so slightly loose in some places and tight in others, evidence that he and Anakin were not exactly the same, but nothing that couldn't be adjusted easily. And it was so much lighter than that horrid life support suit he'd spent so long trapped in.
It needed some colour, though. He'd have to figure out what to paint on it.
And the robes were… so soft. Vader spent a long minute caressing the fabric. His new fingers weren't tremendously sensitive to texture, but he could feel some of it. He could feel enough. It was beautiful.
As much as he wanted to wrap himself in the gloriously soft robes, Vader elected to wear the armour for now. He wanted to go to the bridge; he needed to go… Needed to make sure that the world outside the med bay actually existed. For weeks now, he'd only seen those four sterile walls.
"Am I cleared for duty, Kix?"
The medic was clearly reluctant, but he nodded with a sigh. "Extremely light duty, Sir," Kix allowed. "That is, I'm willing to let you walk around the ship. If you attempt to enter the training halls or, Force forbid it, actual combat, I will borrow General Skywalker's Force-suppressing handcuffs and chain you to the bed. I get the feeling they'll work better on you than your son."
Vader winced. "You are correct. I never had a smuggler for a babysitter; picking locks is not among my talents."
Kix nodded. "Oh, and you will be coming back here tonight, Sir. Your sleeping arrangements are still up in the air, and I'd like to continue to observe you part time."
"I understand. Thank you."
Stitch squeaked as Vader brushed past, headed for the door. Pausing, the cyborg rested one hand briefly on the quartermaster's shoulder.
"You and your brothers have nothing to fear from me, Stitch. I promise you that."
"Yessir!"
The door slid open and Vader reluctantly put on his helmet. He didn't want to hide his face—if he'd had his way, he'd never have to look at the galaxy through a tinted lens again—but if they were going to bother disguising him and Luke, he was going to do it right.
. . .
How the clones could be such gossiping busybodies with each other, yet so effortlessly keep secrets from Republic officers like Admiral Yularen, he had never found out. He doubted he ever would. The entire 212th and 501st battalions knew who Vader was thanks to Luke telling Waxer and Boil, even if they didn't know the whole story of the future. Rex, Cody, and Kix could at least be trusted to keep that tragic tale a secret.
It had been 22 years, but the halls of the Resolute were as familiar to Vader as if he'd last boarded her yesterday. He strode through, slowly but with purpose, and… no one recognized him. For now, at least, he was just another Shiny. That would change once he painted his armour and the clones became familiar with his markings, but for the moment… For the moment, it was actually nice to be anonymous.
No one even looked at him when he entered the bridge. At least, not until he approached Anakin. The boy was leaning over a holomap, face blank, but Force presence filled with annoyance at the slow pace of the supply ships he was escorting. Skywalker glanced up absently as Vader approached.
"Can I help you-?"
"Buir," Vader inserted with half a thought. If he was to pretend to be a clone, he would need a clone name, and better yet if he could link his assumed identity to his son's. "Flip calls me Buir."
Anakin straightened in surprise, reaching out with the Force. Vader sent back a brief affirmative when his counterpart probed his shields. Anakin gulped.
"It's, ah, good to see you out of med bay… Buir." The boy fumbled with something on his belt, eventually detaching it and holding it out to Vader. "I… Uh… Guess you'll be wanting this?"
His lightsabre.
Vader accepted the weapon, wincing with distaste as he felt the weeping of the bleeding crystal inside. His fault, his pain. He wondered if there was anything he could do about that. "Thank you, General. I had thought it was destroyed in the crash."
"Nah, Flip had it. I've been keeping it safe. Don't worry, I already gave his back." You're taking Buir for your clone name? Really? Isn't that a little on-the-nose?
When it comes to clone troopers, only the good Jedi bother to pay any mind to their names. No one we need fear will notice. Vader winced involuntarily at the strength of their bond. He hadn't meant to form a bond with his younger self, but speaking to Anakin in the Force had come as easily as breathing. More easily, even, given his medical history.
"Kix has cleared you for duty?"
"Not exactly. I am… permitted to walk around, but not to engage in actual training or combat."
Anakin made a face. "So you're looking for something to do that he won't kill you for?" Do you plan on listening?
"I'm not going to do your paperwork, Sir, if that's what you're asking." Within reason. If battle is joined, you cannot expect me to sit idle.
There was a ping from the comm panel before Anakin could respond. The boy answered with a flash of relief, clearly not enjoying Vader's presence touching his mind. "General Skywalker here."
The hologram crackled with static, but Vader could make out the features of Jedi Master Plo Koon. "Skywalker… My men and I are in the Abregado system. We have been tracking a ship that I believe to be the new weapon the Separatists have been using to destroy our-"
The transmission cut off. Memories came rushing back to Vader. He hadn't thought about the Malevolence in years, but… yes, he supposed the dates were right.
Ahsoka squeaked. Vader hadn't even seen her standing there, hidden by her master's towering form and burning Force presence. "Master Plo! What happened to him—why was the transmission cut off?"
"He has been attacked," Vader told her. "He found the weapon he was searching for; someone has jammed his transmissions and launched an attack against him to prevent him spreading news of the Malevolence and its gigantic ion cannon."
His words were met with stunned stares. "The mysterious weapon we've been trying to find… is a giant ion cannon?" Anakin demanded. Vader nodded, shrugging.
"Indeed. I cannot remember the exact specifications; Obi-Wan and I blew it up before it could be properly studied."
Ahsoka's presence wavered with grief. "Does… Does that mean Master Plo is…?"
"He is not dead, Padawan Tano. Not yet." Vader sent out a brief wave of reassurance to bolster her spirits. "We rescued him last time, along with Commander Wolffe. I'm sure it can be done again."
Ahsoka bit her lip, her presence wavering hopefully. Anakin thought for a moment, then smirked. Vader frowned. He did not appreciate the feeling of smugness radiating from his younger self.
"Buir, please fetch Admiral Yularen. I need to discuss our options with him."
Oh. Oh, that little Bantha turd. He thought he was going to have fun ordering Vader around, did he? Well… Two could play that game. Just because he was hiding his identity among the clones didn't mean that Vader was going to meekly submit.
"Of course, General." He infused the title with just a hint of darkness, a tiny promise of retribution. Not that he intended to harm Anakin, no, but he didn't intend to make commanding him easy for the boy, either.
Anakin shivered involuntarily at his tone. The reaction pleased Vader greatly.
The Force hummed a quiet march as Vader swept through the ship in search of Admiral Yularen. He found the man after only a few moments; as usual when not on duty, he was in the non-clone officer's lounge. Vader forced himself to come to attention and salute, although he couldn't keep a sneer of contempt off his face. Thankfully, the trooper helmet hid that.
"Admiral Yularen, General Skywalker requests your presence on the bridge."
"Whatever for?" Despite his question, the admiral immediately put down his caf and rose from his seat.
"We received a transmission from General Koon regarding the mysterious weapon that has been destroying our convoys. Skywalker wants to discuss options." His voice could give him away. Vader knew damn well that his voice would never pass for a clone's. Too rough, too broken...
Luckily, Admiral Yularen had never been one to pay much attention to clones. It had annoyed Vader in his youth; while it still rankled now, he had to admit that the admiral's ignorance was proving useful.
Vader fell into step behind as the admiral headed for the bridge. The Force swirled around him. Part of him wanted nothing more than to take command, to shove Admiral Yularen out of the way and deal with this himself. He was the most experienced officer on this ship. He didn't need advice from some civilian who didn't know the Force or the clones, nor did he need his smug younger counterpart being so... smug.
. . .
It was the part that still sounded like Palpatine sometimes. For the second time that day, Vader squashed the darkness down.
They returned to the bridge just as an image of Obi-Wan flickered to life on the holotable. An unusually short trooper wearing the symbol of the Rebel Alliance was visible beside the Jedi Master, the end of a thin braid sticking out from under his helmet. Vader couldn't help but smile, reaching out to his son through their bond; Luke responded with bubbling warmth.
It was so much easier to keep the darkness back when in contact with his son.
"General Skywalker, General Kenobi, Commander Tano." Admiral Yularen nodded politely to the Jedi and stood, hands behind his back. "I hear we've had news of that mysterious weapon that's been plaguing our supply lines."
Anakin nodded. "A partial transmission from General Plo Koon. He claims to have found the device in the Abregado system."
"That's excellent. We should inform the Chancellor immediately."
Unease washed through the Force at Admiral Yularen's words. Anakin glanced at Vader, an almost pleading look. But... If they hid such information without reason, if they suddenly refused communication with Palpatine, that would draw suspicion. Vader responded to his counterpart's unasked question with the slightest shake of his head.
They couldn't afford to make the Emperor suspicious. Not yet.
Anakin practically whimpered in the Force, but his face remained expressionless as he punched in to add Chancellor Palpatine to the comm call. And then... And then Vader found himself staring down at an all too familiar face, glowing in blue relief beside the figures of Luke and Obi-Wan. Cold dread curled in the pit of his stomach.
He can't sense you, Obi-Wan reassured him through their bond. We're too far from Coruscant for even the strongest Force sense.
And then the Force did something weird. Vader couldn't remember feeling anything quite like it before. There was a sense of something twisting open, but also wrapping around, and then... Well, then Vader found himself in the middle of what could only be described as a Force conference call between himself, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Luke, and Ahsoka.
Luke's presence nearly overwhelmed the others with excitement. Is this a normal Jedi thing?!
Yes and no, came Obi-Wan's amused reply. It is normal to be able to speak to those with whom you share close bonds within the Force. However, it is rare for a group of significant size to form quite the tangled web of bonds that we have. I have read about this technique in the past, but it is the first time I know of anyone having a chance to try it out, at least in recent memory.
Ahsoka bubbled enthusiastically. I like it!
Vader had to agree. While he didn't necessarily want the rest of his lineage in his head at all times, the ability to all talk this way was useful. Especially when they had to skirt around things as they briefed Chancellor Palpatine and Admiral Yularen.
"We received word from General Plo Koon that the weapon he's been tracking is in the Abregado system," Anakin began, repeating the information for the Chancellor's benefit. "Unfortunately, he was unable to complete his transmission—either he was attacked, or someone jammed his comms. Possibly both."
Definitely both, Vader informed the Force web. I remember this incident.
Palpatine frowned, an imitation of concern. "Oh my... And this was the same mysterious weapon that's already destroyed two convoys?"
"We believe so, yes." How did I never notice before how creepy he is? Anakin bemoaned behind his professional words. His expressions never reach his eyes!
It was true. Though Palpatine did a very good imitation of a stressed and concerned older statesman in every other respect, his eyes never quite lost their cold calculation. The Chancellor sighed, slumping a barely perceptible amount. Vader wondered how much time he'd had to spend practicing in front of a mirror to perfect that bit of body language.
"Then we must assume that General Koon is-?"
"He's not dead!" Ahsoka butted in. Vader said Master Plo and Wolffe are still alive, but we need to save them.
Admiral Yularen frowned at her. "Commander Tano, show a little decorum."
"Sorry Sir..." How much time do they have?
I'm afraid I do not remember exact timelines. Just rough dates. Vader sent a wash of apology through their tangled bonds. Ahsoka responded with impatient hope, while Luke sent out a wave of reassurance.
"Bith isn't far from the Abregado system," Anakin offered. "I could send a ship to look for survivors." I could get there and back in no time at all.
Obi-Wan stroked his beard, frowning. "If the weapon is that close to you, though, the supply ships you're escorting may be in danger. You can't afford to split your fleet." Don't do anything rash, Anakin.
Palpatine was quick to jump in against Obi-Wan—too quick. With two decades of experience and hindsight, it was all too easy for Vader to see how the Emperor had undermined his relationship with his former master at every possible turn. "I don't know, General Kenobi. Surely if there were survivors, the intelligence they could provide would be invaluable. Admiral Yularen?"
"I'm afraid I must agree with General Kenobi in this instance," the Republic officer said. "We cannot afford to separate the Resolute and the Defender with the supply ships under our care.
Ahsoka let out a snort of affront, leaning both hands on the edge of the holotable. "But we can't just leave Master Plo out there! He's still alive, I'm sure of it, but he won't be if we don't do something!" How did you convince them last time?
I didn't. We took the Twilight out against orders.
Obi-Wan's forehead met his palm at the exchange. Of course you did... "Ahsoka, dear, your concerns are appreciated, but the safety of the supply ships must be our first priority. I'm sure Master Koon would say the same."
"There has to be something we can do!" I could-
"Settle down, Snips." Anakin placed a hand on his padawan's shoulder. "Remember what I told you about questioning orders?" Don't worry; I have an idea.
Ahsoka sighed. "That there's a time and a place for it..." Really? What idea?
"Exactly. And that time and place isn't right now." Exactly what Vader said; we make a quick run in the Twilight with no one the wiser.
Hard to do that when Obi-Wan can hear you planning, Vader reminded his counterpart. Anakin responded with a burst of sheepish surprise. It was him I was trying to conceal things from the last time.
Oops...
Obi-Wan chuckled. "Anakin trying to encourage someone to follow orders? Now that's something I never thought I'd see. You do realize these orders apply to you as well, yes? I want you to stay with your fleet, General Skywalker." His voice in the Force was accompanied by a surge of apologies. I'm sorry. Even if I know what you're going to do, I have to at least make it look like I'm trying to stop you. But Anakin, really, there must be a better way.
Anakin gasped and held a hand to his chest, mock hurt. "I can too follow orders, Master. When I want to. Your lack of faith in me is disturbing." There is a better way, at least this time. After all, we have two General Skywalkers. One of us can go look for Master Koon and one of us can stay with the fleet.
"I don't lack faith in you, dear one." Obi-Wan somehow managed a fond smile that also looked like he was about to have a migraine. "Merely in your ability to do as you're told." Technicalities, Anakin? Maybe you did learn something from me after all.
Vader glowered at his younger counterpart as Anakin beamed. Kix will be displeased with me for leaving the ship, he pointed out.
"I suggest a compromise." Anakin tweaked the holomap so that instead of just showing the Bith system, it showed the larger area between Bith and Abregado. "I'll send out a small scout ship, just one or two men, to see what happened to Master Koon. They can perform search-and-rescue if needed, then re-join the fleet before we leave Bith." Leave Kix to me. I'll find a way to distract him.
Admiral Yularen glanced at the map, humming. "I suppose we could," he said quietly. "It would be useful to learn what this mysterious weapon is."
Palpatine nodded. "Indeed. Very well, General Skywalker. Send out your scout ship, and good luck. I hope you find something of value."
The Chancellor left the call. Anakin shuddered almost imperceptibly, his presence radiating distaste. That was... Ergh...
Luke blanketed their Force web with light and warmth. I notice he didn't mention anything about hoping we find this Master Koon alive.
Probably because every Jedi who dies in this war is one more step in his plan to annihilate them. Vader scowled. Master Koon is one of the best of them.
Of us, Obi-Wan corrected. He's one of the best of us.
I am no Jedi, Vader sent back, not anymore.
The response was immediate from every direction. Painful understanding from Anakin, exasperation from Obi-Wan, disbelief from Ahsoka, and vehement denial from Luke. So vehement, in fact, that it gave everyone else a bit of a headache. Luke was good at hiding himself when he wanted to be, but had yet to learn to keep things back from those he had bonded with.
Now is not the time for heroic speeches, Vader warned, sensing Luke was about to do just that. His son responded with a flash of chagrin.
Obi-Wan sighed, stroking his beard. "Well, if that's everything, Anakin, I'll leave you to it. We'll rendezvous with you in a couple of days." And hopefully by then I will have at least gotten Luke to begin working on not overwhelming the rest of us every time he feels strong emotions.
Admiral Yularen nodded; Anakin gifted Obi-Wan's holo with a cheeky smirk. "We'll see you soon, Master." Should we keep this web thing going?
His expression earned an eye roll and a sigh. "And Anakin?" No, I'll shut it off for now.
"Yes, Master?" Okay. But we should use it again; this was fun.
"Do be careful." Agreed.
The twisting knot unravelled as the holo winked out, leaving Vader with four normal bonds tugging at the back of his mind rather than the web of their lineage conference call. He would have to ask Obi-Wan how to do that; he wanted to know how it worked.
. . .
How long had it been since he'd thought that? Since he'd wanted to ask Obi-Wan about anything?
Too long.
Anakin turned to Admiral Yularen with a small bow. "Thank you for your opinion, Admiral. If you don't mind, Ahsoka and I are going to go arrange the scout ship we discussed. I'll leave the bridge in your capable hands."
"Of course, Sir."
Vader followed silently as his younger counterpart and former padawan turned and headed for the hangar. Admiral Yularen didn't comment on his departure; he may not have noticed it. After all, for the moment, Vader was just another Shiny chasing after the general, one of hundreds who might fill the role on any given day on the Resolute.
He didn't speak until they were well away from the bridge, Ahsoka trotting to keep up with Vader and Anakin's longer strides. "How do you intend to keep Kix from murdering me when I get back?"
"Mostly by keeping him from figuring out you left." Anakin shrugged. "I'll tell him you were helping me with some paperwork."
"He'll never believe that. You hate paperwork. I hate paperwork."
"People can change over 22 years. Maybe he'll believe that turning evil and killing my family also left me with a passion for logistical reports."
Vader cuffed Anakin on the back of the head. His counterpart hissed. "Hey! What was that for?"
"Insolence."
Anakin made a face. "Is that word part of Sith Code 101 or something? I'm pretty sure Count Dooku calls me that a lot too."
"You've barely met the man."
"Doesn't mean he doesn't say it."
No, it didn't; he probably did. Vader snorted at the thought. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of having anything in common with Yan Dooku, aside from the lineage of which they were both a part. But at the same time, they had far too much in common. Perhaps he should remedy that somehow.
"Will anyone be accompanying me on this mission?" Vader wanted to know. It was probably better if someone did; without a third party, it was possible that Plo Koon would attempt to arrest him or some such nonsense. His presence was rich in darkness, after all. An attempted arrest would be a very inconvenient way for the Jedi Council to discover his existence.
"I will," Ahsoka piped up. Vader looked from her to Anakin with concern.
"No."
"Actually, yes." Anakin smirked and clapped a hand on Vader's shoulder; the cyborg flinched. "Ahsoka knows Master Plo well, so she has the best chance of talking him down if he mistakes you for a threat."
"I am a threat. Just, only to those I wish to threaten." A bit of darkness crept into his words again; Anakin and Ahsoka both shuddered.
"I believe you, I do, I promise." Anakin held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"If you believed me, you wouldn't be so keen to send your padawan on a solo mission with me. Not after what you know I've done."
"I'm... not." Anakin gestured to Ahsoka. "It was her idea."
"Really?"
"Yep." Ahsoka popped the P loudly. "I argued that since Luke's not around, I'm probably the safest with you of anyone. I mean, you showed us the bit where you dropped a building on me, but it was pretty clear that was one of the biggest regrets of your life, so I don't think you'd actually let anything happen to me if you could help it."
Even with the confidence of her words, Vader could feel his former padawan's fear. Still nervous around him... It was something none of them were likely to get over any time soon. But he was grateful that they were willing to try.
"Sound logic. Kenobi would be proud."
Ahsoka grinned, her presence glowing at the praise. Anakin rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, sure, give Obi-Wan all the credit for teaching Ahsoka how to make an argument."
"Well, it had to come from somewhere." Vader smirked. "And that somewhere probably wasn't you, Mister I'll-flirt-with-the-senator-by-waxing-poetic-about-how-much-I-hate-sand. You are hardly the most eloquent member of our lineage."
Anakin let out an indignant yelp and promptly kicked Vader in the shin... Only to yelp again, this time in pain, as his toes met durasteel and armour. Vader's smirk deepened.
"Fuck! Kriff! Ow!" Anakin pointed an accusing finger at Vader. "You did it too! We're the same person! And it worked, didn't it?"
"I highly doubt it was your theatrics regarding sand that won Padme's affection."
Their quarrel ceased abruptly as they reached the hangar, pilots and maintenance troopers saluting as they passed. Vader fell back a step, letting Anakin lead as he played his role. Nothing to see here, just an unusually tall clone trooper being personally assigned a mission by the general. Not that it mattered so much when it was mostly clones around. There were a few Republic officers visible, though.
They stopped in front of the Twilight, Anakin whistling for Artoo. Vader looked up at the boxy little shuttle. It was... in much better condition than he last remembered it. Of course. They were still early in the war. It had barely seen action.
That was about to change.
"You still remember how to fly this thing, right?" Ahsoka asked cheekily. Vader smiled, nostalgia warming his chest.
"Naturally. I remember every ship I've ever flown. Dark Side or Light, I'm still one of the best star pilots in the galaxy."
Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "One of?"
"Luke could give me a run for my money, as could my... son-in-law." Solo. Vader's smile disappeared as he did some math. Solo was... Already born. He'd been older than Luke and Leia by a significant margin. Too significant. He really should have opposed that relationship... Although, he supposed he had, what with the whole freezing in carbonite thing. Not that Leia would have abided by any rules he gave her regarding dating; likely, she would have done the opposite just to spite him, then stabbed him while he tried to decide on an appropriate fatherly response.
"M15510N 71M3?"
Artoo rolled up, indicator lights flashing green. Anakin laughed and knelt to pat the astromech's dome. "Yep. I've got a very important job for you, little buddy."
"1 4CC3P7!"
"I haven't even told you what it is yet."
"1 4CC3P7!" Artoo whirred and spun. "WH053 455 W3 K1CK1N6 70D4Y?"
Anakin laughed, shaking his head. "Probably no ass-kicking today, actually. You're going with Vader and Ahsoka on a search-and-rescue mission in the Abregado system. We've lost a Jedi out there."
Artoo beeped in disappointment, lights flashing briefly amber before returning to green. "57111 B3773R 7H4N 51771N6 4R0UND 411 D4Y."
A snicker escaped Vader's lips. He had forgotten how bloodthirsty R2-D2 could be. The little droid was even more impulsive than he was. Cleverer, too, at least than Anakin. And somehow he'd ended up with Luke and Obi-Wan right in time for another adventure.
. . .
Wait a second...
Vader burst out laughing as the realization hit. Everyone stared at him.
"Uh... What's so funny?"
"You okay up there?"
"That droid..." Vader brought himself under control as quickly as possible, before his lungs started burning. "That beautiful little asshole of a droid... I wondered how my men proved so incompetent that they could not retrieve a simple data disk, but it was because Leia had entrusted the files to Artoo." Who had immediately run off and found himself a Skywalker and a Kenobi. The empire hadn't stood a chance.
Anakin stood, smiling. "Well, it's good to know that even in your kriffing awful future, Artoo was still around to kick butt and take names."
"He did more than that. He was the one who delivered Luke and the Death Star plans to the Rebel Alliance, and I would be willing to bet that he was in the fighter with my son when it came time to blow that horrid weapon to shards."
An excited whistle led to Vader clapping his hands over his ears. He'd forgotten how loud Artoo could be. The astromech's lights flashed blue and green.
"R3B31 41114NC3? D347H 574R? 3XP10510N5? 50UND5 11K3 MY K1ND 0F FU7UR3!"
Vader winced. "It is a future I'm trying to change. Regardless of your enjoyment for tormenting Threepio and blowing things up, there were a great many things I wish never happened and a great many people I wish I hadn't killed." He was not going to question that Artoo had just accepted the fact of time travel without a care. This was Artoo. The beautiful little disaster would break six laws of physics and half the laws of robotics and call the result a pleasant walk.
His words were met with a series of emotional whistles that only stopped when Anakin patted Artoo again. "Alright, little buddy, calm down. You've got a search-and-rescue mission to get on with, remember?"
"Y35, Y35, WH473V3R." Artoo's visual sensor swivelled to focus on Vader. "WH47'5 Y0UR D3516N4710N, FU7UR3 B0Y?"
Future boy? Vader wasn't sure whether he should be insulted by that or not. He wrinkled his nose. Unfortunately, unlike his counterpart, R2-D2 was unlikely to be cowed by tiny touches of the Dark Side. While the astromech knew something of the Force, he was not sensitive to it. No droid was.
"You may call me Buir when I am in armour and Vader when I am showing my face."
Artoo whirred, considering, then performed an affirmative wiggle. "D3516N4710N 4CC3P73D: 5KY6UY-V."
. . .
Vader stared. "What?"
R2-D2 trilled the astromech equivalent of cackling laughter as he spun and raced into the Twilight. Vader hesitated a moment, then raced after the droid, feet pounding heavily on the durasteel floor.
"Get back here, you insolent bucket of bolts! Explain yourself!"
Artoo had already plugged himself into a socket when Vader caught up to him. Ahsoka wasn't far behind. Vader's lungs burned from the short dash; he didn't have his respirator in, although he had it on him. He bent over, panting as he tried to get his breath back.
"Why... did you call me... Skyguy-V?"
"V01C3PR1N7 M47CH: D3516N4710N 5KY6UY. R3QU3573D D3516N4710N: V4D3R. 7H3R3F0R3, 5KY6UY-V 15 4N 4PPR0PR1473 D3516N4710N."
Vader glanced at Ahsoka as she joined them and made herself at home in the copilot's seat. "Do... Do I really sound so much like my younger self that a droid could detect it?" If he did, he might need to have a vocoder built into his helmet in order to improve his disguise.
His former padawan shrugged. "I mean... You're definitely not identical. You're a lot more formal than Skyguy, and your voice is... a lot rougher and hisses a bit. But yeah, if someone's listening closely, they can tell it's similar."
"I see." That was definitely something to consider in the future, then. Vader took off his helmet and shook his head, settling into the pilot's seat. It was time to get moving.
Ahsoka flinched, her eyes flicking to his scars, but she said nothing, so neither did Vader.
The controls were familiar, even after all this time. Vader glanced out the viewport to make sure Anakin had moved out of the way before lifting off. The Twilight hummed to life under his touch, his hands ghosting over the controls. Up above, the hangar doors opened to reveal the stars.
Yes... This was perfect.
Vader guided the Twilight out into the velvet blackness, warmth bubbling up in his chest. Warmth... and light. Happiness. This was where he belonged. Out among the stars with nothing but a durasteel shell and twin ion engines to protect him from the void. Even flying in atmosphere couldn't compare.
Artoo trilled to let them know he'd put in the coordinates. Ahsoka had already strapped herself in; Vader didn't bother. He didn't need it. A smile twisted his scarred face; his heart soared. The sky... The sky was the only place he'd ever felt truly free.
Vader kicked the hyperdrive into gear. Across the viewport, the stars turned into streaks and swirls, until the cockpit of the Twilight was lit up with burning blue.