"How was your meeting?" Luke inquired bitterly from his sulking position on the couch.

Darth Vader had just walked in, accompanied by the monotonous sound of his respirator, that sound which followed him everywhere he went and shadowed his every appearance. For a moment, the Sith Lord was still, his sable helmet inclined toward his sour son.

"It was normal as far as meetings go. Son, if you would give me a chance, you might find that I am not as bad as you imagine me to be. Propaganda and rumors have prejudiced people against me. No one has even bothered to see what is true and what is not. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to put you into that category."

The Jedi sighed. He knew that his father was attempting a not-so-subtle guilt trip but what annoyed him most was that it was working.

Scowling darkly, he punched the couch out of frustration. "I don't know what category I fall into now...I used to know. Everything used to be black and white...But now it's a murky color that I'm not even sure can be called gray."

"Perhaps it is because you are finally allowing yourself to see the truth."

"Or maybe it's because you're trying to pull a blinder down over my head."

"I'm not the one doing the pulling," the father told the son.

That didn't sit very well. "You're saying that I am trying to purposefully confuse myself?"

"No."

The word, soft though it was, resounded throughout the room. It made Luke feel even smaller than he already was feeling due to the tall sable monster standing before him. What was his father truly capable of? Had Luke even begun to see the extent of the older man's powers?

The Dark Lord continued, "What I am saying is that there is a part of you that wishes to go back to the security of knowing precisely what it was you wanted...But what you wanted was always for the sake of others, never for yourself. You wanted what you thought was best for everyone else, not caring if you destroyed yourself in the process, as long as your friends were alive. Your friends are not here to back up your beliefs, and so you are not quite sure what those beliefs are any longer. The Jedi claim that the Dark Side is full of 'bad' emotions and that love is of the Light...But if love is of the Light, then why is a Jedi not allowed to feel passion?" The Sith paused uncomfortably. Then he spoke reluctantly, "I thought that once your mother was dead, I would never feel love again."

He had brought up a subject that intrigued Luke, who had never learned much about his mother. After a moment, Luke asked, "What was she like?"

There was a weighty pause as Darth Vader considered memories he had thought were long gone. "Beautiful. She was of a beauty greater than that of the stars and planets combined...She was once known as Queen Amidala of the Naboo—"

"She was a queen?" Luke interrupted curiously.

"Yes, she was a queen," Vader confirmed. "When I first met her, I knew her as a simple handmaiden named Padmé. One of her other handmaidens pretended to be the actual queen, that she might be well-protected...When I first saw her on Tatooine, I knew that our destinies were intertwined—"

"Tatooine?" the planet name had also piqued Luke's curiosity.

"Yes. A planet that holds many bitter memories for me, but that one great memory almost outweighs them all." Vader's tone softened somewhat as painful thoughts resurfaced. "I was a slave on Tatooine, along with my mother. Your mother, Obi-Wan, and a few others helped save me from that wretched place...but they could not save my mother."

Luke felt he had to say something, but he could think of nothing that could lessen his father's pain. Instead of speaking, he sent a tentative Force tendril of reassurance, and as soon as he sent it, he was surprised that it had also contained a brief expression of love.

Did he love his father?

As he stared across at the man whom, admittedly, had been fitted with many unfair stereotypes, he contemplated the many terms he had heard to describe him, ones he himself had once thought.

Monster. Fiend. Beast.

Cruel. Evil. Unjust.

Inhumane. Terrible. Heartless.

Those were just a few of the less vulgar terms. Was his father truly heartless? He seemed to still love and respect Luke's mother, and if Luke weren't misinterpreting the emotions that he could just barely sense from Darth Vader, the man cared for his son, too.

Was the Dark Lord of the Sith merely misunderstood? Was there more to him than seemed to meet the eye?

But he was brought back to his original question. Did he love his father?

...Could he hate the man that had sired him and had refrained from him despite his threat to the Sith Lord's power?...A man that his kind mother had loved so long ago...

A man that had to have some shred of decency left in him...

Luke gave him one last calculating look, during which Vader stood completely still.

He couldn't love him...but he couldn't hate him.

The fair-headed young man closed his eyes and brought his legs up to his chin. Weakly, knowing that he was breaking down inside even as he tried to build up his walls of resistance, he inquired, "What do you want from me?"

"I want to make up for the years that I have lost...The years in which Obi-Wan hid you from me."

Luke swallowed, his eyes staring at the floor. It kept coming back to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, he repeated in his mind. The man who had torn him from his mother and father, had made him grow up on a dustball in the middle of nowhere, had left him with a harsh moisture farmer and his kind but resigned wife, and had lied to him about his father.

Darth Vader had not killed Anakin Skywalker. They were one and the same—a person's personality did not change who they truly were. Anakin Skywalker was Luke's father...Darth Vader was Luke's father...

Luke was the Sith Lord's son, whether he liked it or not. The Sith Lord had never really lied to him; he had always been up front with him. It seemed that the Sith had morals the Jedi only pretended to have.

Yes. Darth Vader had been the one to reveal the true truth of his parentage. Anakin Skywalker was not a navigator on a spice freighter; he was a Force-user in control of an Empire.

An Empire which you could easily be a part of. The voice was back.

I could, he returned.

Think about it. You can right the galaxy's wrongs much easier with an empire than with a republic. You don't have to wait for approval on matters that need urgent attention...You are the approval.

But the Dark Side—

Is not that much different from the Light. It's like using a different power source. Whether you use a private or public energy supply doesn't matter. There's no real difference in the end. Besides, you don't have to use the Dark Side just because you are an Imperial.

What about Leia and the others? Luke inquired of the voice.

They know that the New Republic is crumbling...They just don't want to see it. You could bring them here...They would eventually let themselves see the truth—they would finally realize the benefits an Empire in the right hands can bring.

Aloud, Luke spoke, his voice cracking, "I...can't."

Vader's deep voice somehow turned a bit warmer and more inviting, and it was with gentle softness that he spoke, "You can, Luke. The only one that can hold you back is yourself. You are the one that makes choices for yourself, son. Not your friends..."

"But I owe—" Luke protested, but he was cut off.

Vader wasn't unfriendly, but he was stern. "You owe them nothing. Don't let them make your decisions," he told him forcefully. "You are a mature adult, and you should start behaving more like one."

"All I've known has been the Alliance and the New Republic—"

"Times change, son. Those were all you knew, but perhaps it is time to learn of more."

Luke's eyes hardened as what Vader said sunk in, the crystal blue becoming colder than the winters of Hoth. He slowly raised his head, and a smirk spread across his face. "I don't have to wear a mask, right?"