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?
At last... I think
you'll like this (the last scene at least; the writing... is
suffering from a bout of fatal exceptions – ie my computer eats
Shooting Stars for breakfast.) Please review – I'm writing
chapter 4 of
Mina
Waking
was more than a little painful, so it was understandable that he
would try and put it off for as long as possible. The medic, however,
had other ideas.
For a while there was nothing but the soft
hiss and whirr of machinery and clean, bright but artificial light.
It was enough for him to dismiss any delusions of hoping that he was
anywhere on Tatooine, and he knew for sure that he was a long way
from home when the caustic sting of disinfectant and cleansers
reached his dulled senses along with Basic in an accent he didn't
recognise.
Luke didn't feel the hypo, be he felt the light
beginning to burn a little brighter in his eyes and tried to move his
palms to cover them. His heart skipped in blind panic as he felt the
tug of wires or leads restricting his arms and he came awake with an
abrupt start, kicking the coverlet to the floor.
A distinctly
frustrated sigh came from across the room and Luke looked up, alarmed
and wide-eyed.
"Lay down. It's just the saline feeds, lay
back down." There might have been a touch of amusement in the
soft female voice, but it was quickly quashed. Firm, soft hands
convinced him to comply as they pushed on his shoulders and he
allowed himself to be pushed back to the mattress.
"Oh."
She moved away from him, nothing more than a dark blur in a
bright, white world.
"How are you feeling?" There
really wasn't any concern there, just boredom.
"Owww..."
She
chuckled lightly and quickly stopped as if laughter wasn't allowed in
the stark white med bay. "Headache?"
"Yeah."
He rubbed the nape of his neck with a hand sluggish from too much
sleep. His voice was similarly handicapped, slurring a little at the
edges. "Who are you?"
She had begun to move away and
had retrieved something from a store cupboard, but she turned back
around at his question and regarded him slowly before allowing a
small laugh. "That wasn't the question I expected to hear."
She said, deftly sidestepping it. Or not so deftly if even a
just-woken-up farmboy could see it.
"Oh."
She
injected the hypo into the IV in his arm. '"How about 'Where am
I?', or 'What happened?' even? Head any better now?"
The
throb in his head receded a little to nothing more than the dull
thump of bantha feet against his skull, and his vision swam lazily
back to him. The medic, sporting a severe blonde bun, wide green eyes
and worry lines stretching her cheeks, had her eyebrows raised
questionably.
"Yeah, thanks." He watched as she
pulled the IV from his arm and moved back to the far side of the
room. He rubbed at the small red pin-pricks ruefully. Those were
"You're not
from Tatooine." He explained.
"You're not
"What's wrong?" His soft blue eyes searched
out her green ones but she refused the gaze. He didn't recognise her
turning her back on him as a dismissal of anymore questions. "What
did I say?"
She didn't answer and busied herself with a
small med bag.
"Okay then, where am I?" He tried.
All things considered, he would like to know. This wasn't
Tatooine, and it wasn't low-tech either... in fact, what were those
strange banks of machinery near the back wall? And-
- and what
was he doing in nothing but a black wrap?
Suddenly conscious
of his lack of clothing, he felt a blush turning his cheeks ruddy as
she turned back to him at last.
"Save me from a
recalcitrant boy." She shook her head. "You're in an
Imperial medical facility. I don't have the authority to tell you
what happened even if I knew, sorry. And I don't want to know either.
It's better that way, otherwise..."
She finished the
sentence with a sad nod of her head. Luke felt his frustration
building.
"I.. I don't really remember anything... "
He admitted, as much to himself as to the strangely distant medic,
trying to run back through what had happened after he had woken on
that cliff top... it was like trying to track raiders through the
Wastes and he almost gave up until he remembered something...
Something like a warm touch against his cheek and his mind, something
comforting but confused and a little scared. That was disconcerting
and he didn't understand nor like it.
"Imperial?"
"Please,
don't ask me any more. I really can't tell you."
Why did
everything in his life seem to rest on what he didn't know
these days?
He sighed in frustration and began to stand from
the bed when the far door whisked open to a small group of
stormtroopers. He stiffened and froze in place, muscles entering a
now-familiar state of tension and readiness. As if sensing his fear,
the medic turned to him and shot a warning glance.
"He's
almost ready." She said as she turned to the approaching
troopers and Luke felt fear worming in his gut. Stromtroopers...
like on Tatooine. Like on Tatooine in Beggars Canyon where -
He
gasped as the images flooded his mind and stumbled backwards into the
bed he had just left. "Ben!" The troopers looked up alarmed
at his outburst, one of them leveling a blaster at him. Luke couldn't
ignore that, but suddenly his mind was filled with confusing and
painful memories.
Ben Kenobi, saber pressed against his
temple, grey eyes betraying a deep well of grief. And a dark figure
fighting him, his swirling black cloak above batting away the burnt
sunshine. A sudden, sharp fall and a dull, draining pain in his side.
Now the colour drained from his face at the memories and he
wished they hadn't resurfaced. He had thought he was
dead.
Wide-eyed, he stared up at the medic who would offer him
no answers and felt panic rising again. Imperial medical facility.
Imperial
"Who was that?" He blurted, but she just looked
as shocked as the troopers at his sudden shaking. She gripped the top
of his biceps and held him upright, but with annoyance, not concern.
"Come on, lets get you dressed before they escort you
out of here."
More immediate concerns than the identity
of that huge, dark figure presented themselves at those words. It was
probably by design. "Escort?" The word was oh-so cold in
his mouth. It tasted sour and foreboding and he shook his head
furiously, getting a little dizzy. "I don't want-"
"They'll
drag you out of here naked if you don't hurry up." She warned,
and one look at the blank white masks told him it wasn't an idle
threat.
His mouth worked uselessly as he gaped around himself,
feeling foolish for not immediately realising his situation.
Silently, he allowed the aloof medic to dress him, modesty bruising
only a little underneath the robe. All the time he re-ran the
confused images of Tatooine back through his mind, trying to figure
out where amongst all that mess the clue to the
Dressed and steadier on his feet, the
troopers grabbed his wrists and cuffed them in front of him.
"Hey!"
He protested and struggled, got rewarded by a clip around the back of
his head. He reeled against one of them as the medic spoke up
angrily.
"Stop that!" Was she talking to the
troopers or their diminutive captive? "He's already
half-concust, I don't need
He swallowed hard around
the fear forming a lump in his throat, not liking his alternatives.
"Okay." He mumbled.
She eyed him for a moment, and
then indicated that the troopers could start walking. Without
preamble they pushed him in front of them and the medic followed
behind, hypo ready in case he tried anything.
---
Vader
wondered how long the Emperor would keep him kneeling here. Not only
was it annoying and a waste of time, but it was a good indictor of
his Master's present disposition. Judging from the time already spent
on his knee, the Emperor was not in a good mood.
"Rise,
Lord Vader." The voice was grating, throaty with years of
misuse. Vader stood and looked into the rough home-spun hood of the
Emperor, wondering, as he always did, why the Leader of the Galaxy
choose such... un-regal clothing.
Vader inclined his head, "My Master, we
have retrieved the droid with the stolen Death Star plans and
Princess Organa is detained aboard the station." Miles from
where he now stood, in fact. Closer than Luke, on the other side of
the Death Star.
His
feet shifted uncomfortably at his minds apparent ease at accepting
that part of Anakin back again. It was a war Vader had been fighting
all night since he had left the boy alone in the medical centre, and
he wasn't certain which side was winning yet.
"Your concern is noted,
my friend."
Vader
sighed, knowing this was a battle he would never win. Palpatine so
loved his little toys.
"No, my Master."
Let him believe it was distaste for this metal monstrosity.
"Good."
The crinkled brow wrinkled further. "Something distracts you
then."
"No, my Master." Such an open,
multi-purpose answer that. So easy. Palpatine saw that, too. "It
is not my place to question your judgement."
"Indeed."
Silence hung uneasily for a few seconds filled only with the spinning
movement of blue static over the holofield. "Best to keep your
mind on your current mission, Lord Vader. Discover the Rebels hidden
base through the Princess."
Ah yes, that damned mission
he so wanted to throw in the garbage compactor. As if the Alliance
was any threat.
"Of course."
Palpatine looked entirely
unconvinced. "It would be best you remember the extent of my
displeasure at failure."
Oh, yes, Vader remembered. Had
suffered it for twenty years, and not just in failure but for the
slightest disapproval. Palpatine was certainly a disturbed old man.
"Yes, my Master." New twist on an old answer. He
nearly smiled.
"Consult with Tarkin about the Princess,
I'm sure he can offer a few ideas." Palpatine looked at him
thoughtfully and let out a cackling laugh. "Indeed, he can be
most inspirational at times."
Vader had long since
schooled himself against shivering at that sound. He didn't offer any
reply.
"Report back to me when you have the base
identified. There are lessons to be learned here, from the rebels."
Vader nodded as Palpatine reached a crackled old hand for the comm
unit. "And be wary of your past."
Vader started as
the pickup shut off with the abruptness customary of the Emperor's
communications. He looked around almost nervously as adrenaline
flooded his body from that last remark.
No. If
he
Or perhaps it
was a mere coincidence.
Unnerved, rising from muscles cramping
from kneeling too long, Vader turned from the room and headed for his
meeting with the various generals and moffs about the testing of this
monstrosity of a weapon. It was going to be a long evening.
---
The question died on his lips as they entered the luxurious
quarters, draped in black silks and sunken with deep, plush carpets.
Luke nearly stumbled forwards at the surprising existence of such a
place on this seemingly drab, utilitarian place.
He still
couldn't give it any designation other than a 'place'. Wherever he
was - ship, planet, station - it was immediately clear that it was
definitely not Tatooine. Or anywhere like it. It was teeming
with Imperials, droids, and troopers running around on the Empire's
errands.
Luke had stumbled along the way here, gaping at the
'place' that was so unlike his home, and had received a hit to his
back hard enough to make him see stars in return. Stormtroopers, no
matter where they were stationed, appeared to have fairly uniform
orders.
If the prisoner runs; hit it. If prisoner complains;
hit it. If the prisoner dawdles; hit it.
Such a simple
philosophy. He wondered if Tank was amongst this bunch of clones
because the obstinate young man would certainly have fitted in with
these mindless troopers.
"Wow..." He breathed as
they moved further into the room. His feet sank wonderfully into the
deep pile carpets, and the air was cool and clean, not filled with
the acrid smells of a working garrison. Soft lighting completed the
atmosphere of luxury and Luke had never, never seen anything
like it, nor dreamt it.
He turned his head to question the
medic, but she was striding past a small conversation area with
soft-skinned sofas and a low table in front of huge viewports. She
thumbed open a barely visible door and motioned the troopers to bring
their prisoner in.
Luke complied, not wanting to be hit again,
and stumbled at the threshold. Beyond was a large room; a bedroom
with a large, deep bed unlike anything he'd experienced back home,
and similarly plush furnishings. Wow.
If this was what
Imperial detainment was like, he now knew why the Rebel Alliance was
growing in size so rapidly.
"Sit." The medic
indicated the large bed and when Luke's legs refused to obey the
troopers practically lifted him off his feet and dropped him
unceremoniously onto the bed. Luke glowered but it lacked any real
animosity as he stared in bewilderment. This was so weird... so
confusing... so not like he'd imagined it.
"What's
going on?" He looked from blank troopers to unhelpful medic and
felt like screaming. Will someone please tell me what's
going on here!!! Just a name, a place, a date!
"Lie
down."
She filled the hypo in the soft starlight, eyes
blank and emotionless. Luke wondered where the amused woman from the
med bay had gone and who this stern, bitter woman was that had taken
her form. Gloved hands pressed him down to silky-soft black sheets
when he didn't comply absolutely immediately and he bit back a
retort. The stormtroopers appeared to really enjoy bullying the
smaller boy and he didn't need to experience any more of their
pay-backs.
The needle only stung a little as it slipped into
his forearm and she began stripping him, much to his consternation.
"Hey! No – wait! Don't do that!"
Troopers
hands held him down and the sedative started to make him sluggish
again, muscles refusing to fight back hard enough as the medic
continued to do her job. His eyes began to droop under the drugs
effects. More sleep: just what he didn't want!
"I
thought... you said it was... dangerous." He slurred as expertly
as Fixer after a night in the cantina.
She looked at him
ruefully and that quick smiled returned briefly. Luke was glad for
the compassion."I lied. Thought you might like the
walk."
Hmm... compassion? Imperial detainment included
the luxuries reserved for royalty and genuine compassion. Huh?
Well, if he wanted it to continue, he might as well try and
strike up a companionship here. That meant having names to call each
other, not just 'the medic' and 'the farmboy'.
"I'm...
my name... is...-"
She looked up suddenly and snapped at
him. "No!"
Luke's vision took on a dark blur at the
edge and he expressed his understanding of her expression.
"Huh?"
"I- Don't tell me your name. I don't
want to know." He felt a little tang of rejection at that.
Before she was
through the door frame she turned slowly on her heel and look at his
confused, hurt expression. He thought he heard a grumble of 'oh
for the love of...' before she approached him again and whispered
in his ear so the troopers couldn't eavesdrop.
"I'm
sorry. I've just learnt that... sometimes... it's better not to get
too close. It's just easier than dealing with the loss later
on."
She turned and left, leaving Luke alarmed, a little
scared and oh, so sleepy.
---
Vader entered his
quarters latter that night, after long talks with numerous obnoxious
Imperial officials, military men most of them but all having a
certain knack for the inept side of the Force. The lights were dimmed
in the spacious entranceway, and he found it merciful after to the
painfully bright egotism of those men.
He stalked across the
room towards the room containing his mediation pod, reveling in his
ire. The Death Star provided the second in the command with luxurious
quarters fit for the Emperor, but it was hardly worth having to stay
aboard this thing that should never have been conceived, in
his mind anyway. It was, if nothing else, a mockery of Palpatine's
Force powers when he chose brute strength over the subtleties of the
Sith. Idiot.
Such strong animosity towards Palpatine...
stronger even than yesterday. Where had that come from? He shouldn't
even have to ask – it had been born in the communication
earlier. That small statement - Be wary of your past - had
unnerved him.
And indeed he would watch his past carefully,
even if it meant allowing it a small niche in his mind.
He
stopped his stalk to look over at the open door to the room
containing his son, wincing again at the designation. Drawn to it, he
walked closer until he stood in the door frame, marveling at the
sleeping figure on the bed, tousled blonde hair sprayed out on the
black pillows.
Irony touched his mind with nervous little
fingers as he realised that as much as he would hardly shed a tear if
Palpatine's brain-child were destroyed, Palpatine would care little
about Luke's destruction. Such irony again reminded him that nature
did indeed had a deliciously wicked sense of humour.
Luke
shivered, as he had in the med bay only last night. Vader watched him
clutch the sheets closer to try and hide from the creeping cold of
space travel.
Last night he had left him alone. Tonight
though.... he had been fighting himself all day, fighting those urges
that came from that parent-place he couldn't deny, and he hadn't won.
Hadn't even come close, in fact.
Be wary of your
past.
Why? Because it will be my undoing? Or because it
will be Palpatine's undoing? Even if he accepted this part of
Anakin Skywalker that he had tried so long to eradicate, what would
it matter? As it was, he was only pushing it barely beneath the
surface only to have it keep re-emerging when he least wanted it to.
At least if he accepted it, he could learn to cope with it, mould it,
shape it into something more acceptable for a Dark Lord.
As
if you could ever have any part in the design of your emotions.
Luke
shivered again, skin puckering into goosebumps in the cold air.
Tatooine was a warm planet, too warm as his mother had noted
so many years ago. Vader barely even tried to resist the call of his
feet to walk to the bedside.
He drew the covers closer over
his son. His son.
His.
The acceptance
was delicious. Never mind Palpatine, never mind prudence, never mind
Vader; he couldn't keep this back any longer. And he didn't want to.
Seating himself amid the deep pillows, he lifted the light body into
his arms and hugged the shivering child, sending waves of heat
through the Force and, more practically, turning up the heating in
the room.
Luke cooed a little and mumbled in his sleep,
eyelids batting with turbulent dreams. Vader's fingers brushed the
tears running down Luke's cheeks and instinctively knew he was
re-enacting Tatooine in his mind. It was a small matter to dispel the
nightmare. The soft skin enraptured him, reminding him of Padme and
he held onto his son tighter.
"Sleep now. I'll keep you
warm." The words were soft with both Force persuasion and
compassion. Fatherly compassion. He accepted the fact and
hugged it as close to him as he did his son.
Luke murmured,
smiled and leaned against the stroking hand, falling into a
blissfully silent, warm sleep.
Please review, I'm here
listening intently.
Mina