Disclaimer – Despite my begging letters to Mr. Lucas, he simply won't give me even a few minutes alone with Luke Skywalker and company. I know, terrible isn't it? So I can't claim any ownership over them, this is purely for fun.

An AU story, at the time of ANH – what would have happened if Biggs hadn't jumped ship and had mouthed off at the wrong moment about Luke's piloting skills?

Shooting Stars


Chapter Three

A forced unclenching of his fists and several calming breaths later, and Darth Vader felt he could speak again without dragging his reputation for being the unshakable Dark Lord any further down into the garbage scow. Salvaging what was left of his composure from where he'd left it on the docking bay floor he turned to the aide still hovering silently by his side, notably paler than before. The shorter man was letting his mind think too much, and Vader had some regret at the knowledge that the aide would have to go lest the lackey thought it would be a wise career move to report Vader's momentary lack of composure to the Emperor. A job in the Imperial hierarchy included the inevitable danger of betrayal from all sides. Not something they'd put in the small print when he'd signed his former life over to his new Master.

I thought I was signing away everything connected to my past life. Yes I was running away, yes I was scared, yes I was bitter, and yes I wanted it all to just leave me alone. I suppose I should have known that was impossible.

He realised with a start that, for the first time in well over a decade, he was thinking of Anakin Skywalker as Darth Vader again. The two were separate entities – they had to be. How long had it been since he'd considered Anakin's past his own? He knew intellectually that acknowledging your roots could give you strength, but in Vader's case it only dredged up old weaknesses.

He also realised he was staring blankly at the aide.

"Leave us. Order a search of Darklighter's room and bring his belongings to me," he ordered the man in a heavy, mercifully calm tone. A strange, perplexed look crossed the man's unremarkable features before he bowed curtly, olive uniform rustling, and left him alone with the boy.

The boy... his son's friend. It looked like his elimination of his past life had not been quite as complete as he had once thought. That could be rectified.

Somehow, probably through a trained and well-tested will power, he managed to suppress concerns over whether he actually wanted to do that before they could find substance in his inner voice. He did not want to be audience to those thoughts. Not yet, anyway.

He turned to the youth standing in front of one of the large bay windows of Vader's personal quarters. The young man was attempting to give the air of someone calm and perfectly composed, but his presence in the Force was practically screaming his terror at being lead into this place. The only outwards appearance belying this fact was the wringing of his hands in an unconscious gesture of anxiety.

Vader stepped forward and Darklighter took an involuntary step backwards, silhouetted against the starscape.

"Sit." Vader gestured towards a plush black courtesy couch in the corner. The boy opened his mouth to say something but at the glare Vader gave him for his defiance he moved over and sat down heavily, subdued.

He had so many questions! So many things he wanted to ask, so many ways to know his son, to understand him through this child. They were tumbling around his mind, fighting to be asked first like a pack of very hungry, very desperate wampas.

Vader moved forwards and sat opposite the tanned young man, Tatooine evident in his skin and his accent, and the resilience sparkling in those eyes. He would have to tread carefully here, he knew. He could see the uncertainty there, the desire to protect his friend against Vader. Admirable qualities – perhaps this was why his son chose him for a friend.

Or perhaps it just that Tatooine was such a barren planet that her few children naturally latched onto whoever they could get in contact with, regardless.

"Darklighter, you have by now realised that I have an interest in your friend." If you have not you must be incredibly stupid. Vader doubted that was so, somehow. "I will have my answers, now." A stubborn line creased Darklighter's forehead so Vader added for good measure, "One way another."

He was satisfied to see he'd read the boy right - Darklighter flinched in fear at the implications. More perfect would have been a sudden spilling of answers, but they could work on that. He would get his answers. A surge of adrenaline through his veins boosted his confidence and he launched into his first demand.

"How old is he?"

Vader's blind optimism was in for a rough surprise when Biggs stared back defiantly, arms crossed firmly across his chest, lips turned down in a definite I ain't answering your questions expression. The boy's chin lifted in an expression of pride and he attempted a glower at the Dark Lord, not quite inept.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, and Vader was mildly surprised by the strength of the voice, never mind that Darklighter had actually managed to speak in defiance at all, a rare occurrence in itself. "What are you going to do with him?"

Vader considered for a few heartbeats. Tell the truth, drain the boy, and kill him when he had the answers? That would certainly meet his ends, but how could he know he had found out everything the young man had to offer about his son? At the other end of the spectrum was an outright lie, something elaborate to cover his tracks. Perfect. Except... the truth was so intense it was blinding him to any other possibilities.

"I have a certain interest in young Skywalker." The words were heavy and it wasn't only Vader who heard the barely concealed lust there. It made Darklighter's lips curl in disgust.

"What do you want with a common farmboy?"

Another rare moment of strength. Vader might have begun to admire his gall had it not been directed against him. The Tatooine youth's mind was working frantically, trying to piece together scant facts into the semblance of an explanation, and Vader felt in no danger of having the truth discovered. It was far too absurd for the boy to even begin to consider.

"That is of no concern. You will answer my questions, whether or not of your own free will. It makes no difference. Make your choice," he rumbled darkly, years of practice telling him threat was a powerful incentive in times such as this.

The boy in front of him licked his lips nervously and hunkered deeper into the folds of the sofa, but he still found his voice, although less self-assured. "It concerns me if you're going to hurt him," he said, eyes darting away as Vader tried to fix his gaze onto his own.

Ah, compassion. Here was something Vader could use as a rope to let Darklighter hang himself on. He didn't miss the opportunity. This was growing tiresome.

"I will give you my word I have no intention of hurting the child." The quickly averted look of confusion told Vader that the pilot hadn't expected that one. "But I need those answers."

---

Biggs swallowed hard around the cold lump of fear in his throat, far past any smart remarks against this dark angel leaning over him in the dim lighting of the personal quarters.

He felt his world spin around him lazily. It was the dizziness of a pair of six year olds standing in the unbroken desert wastes, arms held out as if in crucifixion, heads upturned to a brilliant blue sky, spinning around and laughing as the world rotated around them in streaks of blue and white, then staggering to stop and collapsing to the floor laughing, dizzy with their inner ears screaming at them for the abuse.

Luke, laughing in the hot sand as they stared at the sky, squinting eyes against twin suns, watching for the grey dots and drive tails of ships. And Biggs, benevolent protector 'older brother' Biggs, laughing with him, telling him not to get so caught up in fantasy, whilst all the time he relished his friend's thirst for life.

You going to deny him that life by breaking here?

He was thankful Vader had ordered him to sit otherwise he might have had to collapse to the deck. This was too much – he was in the Krayt Dragons lair and just waiting to be shredded into small pieces and examined for some tasty morsals.

Only... that wasn't happening. If his common sense hadn't objected so loudly, he might have sworn the Dark Lord was trying to reason with him, trying to persuade him to talk instead of just laying into him and dragging it out. Not that he wouldn't, if necessary. Biggs was under no delusions in that respect. The situation was completely absurd, nothing a mere flight officer should find himself trapped in.

The cold sweat on his forehead was a welcome focus as he realised he had to say something to the Sith and memories of Tatooine faded from his mind.

"I won't answer your questions, My Lord." As if giving him that title would lessen his punishment for such defiance. "I won't betray Luke."

He wasn't even sure if it was him saying those things, he just knew something had gone terribly wrong the moment he had said Luke's last name and if he couldn't rectify that, he could at least try not to get him in any deeper.

Again, he wet parched lips.

Vader stood abruptly and turned away from Biggs, contemplative, black cloak snapping at his face. A sigh came from the Dark Lords lips as he turned back to him, "Very well, we will do this the hard way." He sounded genuinely disappointed.

Probably just wanted to get the answers as fast as possible.

Without any forewarning, a black gloved hand shot out and grabbed Biggs around the neck, lifting him from the couch and throwing his head into a collision with the wall. He wailed in pain and slumped from the grip to the floor, dazed.

Through a muggy haze of shock and pain, he heard Vader's "Stay there," as he moved away. Biggs' hands shook and he couldn't stop them, fear seizing his heart, no longer caring if he was acting like the brave pilot he longed to be or not. He lifted his head from the cold floor, trying to plant his hands against it and push upwards but the blow hadn't left him with the strength to do that and he let his cheek rest against he deck, breathing heavily as stars continued to dance across his vision and the banthas continued to hold a truly wild party in his head.

What was he doing? Defying the Dark Lord was stupid, would only get him killed or worse, would only get Luke in more trouble-

Cut that out, Darklighter! What happened to your resolve?

He moaned inwardly as the inner voice chided him. Great, now his conscience was going to have a go at him too. Just what he really needed right now.

A shadow appeared to block his vision and he tried to claw his way backwards from the black booted feet of Darth Vader.

A choked cough and he was hauled to his feet by the iron grip, dragged moaning in protest to a far less comfortable seat than the sofa, and hands locked in restraints on the arms. Wonderful, looked like Vader was going to have some fun. What had he said earlier about his being a sadist?

The Dark Lord looked down at the boy and Biggs forced back a whimper of fear as his heart hit full throttle. Where was that iron will he used fighting in space? Maybe it was because here he didn't have even the protection of a durasteel cockpit, wasn't just fighting for his own life, but that of his best friend.

Well he wouldn't speak; his resolve was back, his head clearing. Biggs Darklighter would prove to this monster that you didn't mess with-

- the sting of a hypo and, too late, he realised the Dark Lord had no intention of having any fun, only getting the answers he so desperately sought.

---

Darklighter squirmed in the restraints as the drug began to exert its first unpleasant side effects. The so-called 'truth serum', as well as removing all inhibitions against answering, had a fairly drastic effect on the peripheral nervous system. The boy's eyelids twitched unnervingly and shivers ran up his arms as he tried to stare around in alarm, only to find the muscles in his neck spasming hard enough to lock him in position, fists clenched in terror. It wasn't pleasant, but Vader had seen it any number of times and knew it would only last for the few seconds it took to find a niche in his mind and begin to lower down those frustrating barriers.

He stood silently, waiting almost patiently.

A small cry, rage or terror?, and Darklighter finally sagged against the chair. Vader smiled grimly, never mind the pain it caused his scarred skin. Finally. The boy's head lolled to one side, eyes almost unseeing and he clumsily licked his lips, trying to find his voice. The neat, dark hair stuck to his scalp with sweat. Fingers twitched and strained stupidly against the restraints.

Darklighter would feel like he'd run the length of the Imperial Palace when this was over, but that should be all. As it was, he would barely be aware of what was happening to him, that being the whole point of the drug, and there should be very little real pain, only that imagined -

He frowned at the realisation that he was trying to justify his actions. As if he cared what the boy felt, all he was interested in was answers. "Tell me about Luke Skywalker."

It was a mistake to start with such an open question. The youth stared rather blankly at him, conflicting emotions running across his face and through the Force.

Of course! What a reasonable request!

Tell you? Tell you what?

I promised myself I wouldn't....

Vader circled the boy slowly, intentionally drawing away Darklighter's attention long enough for him to lose any grasp on those thoughts. "How old is he?" A better, simpler question.

"Eighteen." The voice was slurred by a numb mouth and tongue, but the word was still clear.

Eighteen, that would be about right. Absolutely right. "Where are his parents?" He already knew the answer, but what did Luke know? What did he tell his friends? He resisted the urge to hold his breath.

The head lolled further down and the eyes blinked blankly, "Dead. Father was..."

"Go on. His father was..."

A strained swallow against a rough throat. "Navigator. Spice freighter. Luke..."

He snorted in contempt. Could they have thought up a more degrading past? And who were 'they' anyway? "Who does he live with then?"

Darklighter never flinched. "Uncle and Aunt. Lars."

Vader felt his blood freeze in his veins at that name. Lars. That was almost as cruel as forcing him to have a childhood on that dust bowl Tatooine.

"Owen is..."

"Yes?" The boy squirmed under his gaze and it felt like he was asking for Basic from a Gungan. Trying to accomplish the nearly impossible.

"Owen isn't nice." Under the effects of the serum, the 'subject' often reverted to the most basic of mental patterns, and those associated with childhood would often be the only ones to survive the mental rape of the drug. Darklighter's speech had regressed ten years. "He tells Luke... too much like his father."

Vader stood very still, emotions dangerous. "What does Luke think of that?" he asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

Darklighter pursed his lips in the manner of a ten year old considering the latest model swoop bike. His eyes blinked a couple of times in thought. "I think he kinda likes being called his dad. He sorta... wants to be like him. Worships him." The boy grinned, giddy with the serum running through his mind, "Always dreaming..." he cut off wistfully.

His dangerous mood rose to another level and he slowly paced around the chair, hands gripping its edge until he swore his fingernails would dig right through with the pressure. He stopped behind Darklighter and leaned on the high seat edge, steadying his nerves before asking the next question, almost beyond hope that the unshakable Darth Vader would return anytime soon. The boy worshiped him. Why did that send such an intoxicating thrill through him?

"What does he look like?" The question spilled out unbidden. That, after all, wouldn't be important for his capture, but it seemed absolutely necessary that he ask it.

He couldn't see Bigg's face but the words seemed amused, "Short. He hates that. Ermm... blonde, got really really blue eyes." He sounded drunk."Cammie thinks he's cute." Vader nearly smirked at the childish jealousy. He sounded much like Anakin had been, with his mothers build. Even as he tried to picture the child, he knew he would never be able to get it right. Better to wait...

"What does he do?" This was incredibly intoxicating, he needed more. He circled back to face the Tatooine native.

"Helps on the farm. He hates it. Thinks he can be a pilot." Biggs grinned again.

Were the Lars still on the same farm? That was a fairly stupid place to hide the boy. Except you never bothered to look did you? Not so stupid.

"Can he?"

Biggs tried to nod his head enthusiastically, but it was too numb and he only managed to look vaguely nauseous. "Can Raiders dance?" He didn't know, could they? "We raced, he always beat me. Always beat all of us. In Beggars canyon."

Memories of pod racing flashed through his mind. "Beggars Canyon." Nature, it seemed, had a sense of irony.

Biggs took the statement as a question. "He can thread the needle full throttle. I've never managed that."

I have.

"What in?"

"T-16. Skyhopper." His brow crumpled. "He wrecked it last time though. Windy cheated. Owen went ballistic, grounded him, gave him the 'you're not a pilot' lecture."

That sounded like the Owen he knew and hated. A skyhopper... damn site wider than a pod. That was impressive.

Darklighter's eyes were flickering and darting all over the place in completely random saccades, not focusing. The drug was probably wearing off. Now for the truly important question if those half-formed ideas were going to gain any substance. He came around the front of the chair and knelt on one knee as if truly talking to a child. "Have you noticed anything... unusual about him?" He thought he already knew the answer, especially with the Beggars Canyon revelation... but he needed to check.

Darklighter's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Ermm..." More hesitation; it really was wearing off. "Yeah, I guess. Owen is always shouting at him when he knows stuff he shouldn't... and fixes stuff. Oh, and there was that time he knocked Fixer out without even touching him. That was weird."

Vader felt a sly smile cross his lips as he stood and paced. That was it: his son did have the Force. And, by the sound of it, was completely untrained. Perfect. Ready to be moulded into his image, as it should have been from his birth. A burst of anger and Vader found his fist colliding with the wall, eyes staring out into space as thoughts of justice and revenge scrambled for recognition. Eighteen years! Separated for a whole lifetime – Luke's lifetime. But no longer. This child, this Force-strong would-be pilot, his child had a meeting with a destiny long overdue

Whilst Vader submerged himself in the intoxicating thoughts of the future, Darklighter had descended into mindless mumbling; the start of his mind dragging itself back to reality, slowly rebuilding barriers. There was something about 'Anchorhead' and someone called 'Ben' that he didn't catch. No matter – he had what he needed. The boy began to thrash in his restraints, mindlessly crying out in frustration and confusion, more spasms shivering up his body as sensation returned with the zing of blood pouring back into his muscles. Vader turned away from the recovering boy. He had a name, a description, and a place. Tatooine.

For the first time in a lifetime, he was going home.

----

Thank you all for you're reviews, they're wonderful and, along with strong coffee and Leonard Cohen, help me write. Thanks. I hope this lives up to your hopes.

Mina.