Frozen - Chapter 5
'It doesn't make any sense.' Luke thought, pacing the room. The weeks had past, and he was just as confused by the Dark Lord's behavior as he had been in the beginning. 'Look at this-' his eyes scanned the suite, falling on the fine furnishings, the exquisite art. 'The artwork is nothing but originals. I don't know about the furniture, but it is expensive. I've been given an extensive wardrobe. I can tap into the holonet, only Imperial approved sites, but still. And he. he's been almost friendly.' Skywalker grimly smiled. 'Well, if you think driving me to exhaustion with a practice blade, locking me in his quarters, and questioning me about my past is friendly, then yes, he has been friendly.' Luke frowned, rubbing a small burn on his shoulder from the practice blade. The blade didn't injure, but it did leave welts. 'And trying to make me angry- but I think that has more to do with the training he's trying to give me.'
The young man twisted himself away from that thought. He knew that a Jedi could not learn to be a Jedi from a Sith- but what else could he do? No one else could teach him, and he was a prisoner. He had looked for anything, any shred of information on the Jedi, on someone who could teach him, after Ben had died- been killed- but he could find nothing. It was frustrating, knowing that a whole new world of abilities lay just out of reach, just because no one could show him the way. Luke yearned for that knowledge, and here it was, being thrust upon him. Why should he argue?
'But it doesn't explain why he's been friendly. He ought to want to kill me. But I can't sense any hatred from him toward me at all, and I've usually been able to sense people's true feelings. It. It has to do something with my father, he said as much that first day.' Luke pondered. 'Well, let's see. He knew my father, but they were not friends, but Vader must feel a responsibility towards me because of him. He seems to be trying to "reform" me.' Luke cast his thoughts across all the relationships he had known, trying to find the parallels. He shuddered, thinking of two B'rrillians he had known in the Rebellion. One was older than the other, and he kept trying to keep his younger nephew in line. 'What if, what if we are related?' Luke could feel the goose bumps forming on his body. 'It's possible, I don't know much about my family at all. It would explain a lot.' Luke fingered the sleeve of his finely woven shirt, eyes tracing the graceful curves of the sculpture in the corner. 'But I'm not going to ask him. No, I'll ask the Force.'
Luke looked grim. He did not like meditating in the Force, the anger was hard to maintain and it left him feeling dirty. But he needed to know. Briefly, he thought about using the lightside, but pushed the idea away. He didn't know how, and Darth Vader had been downright viscous in the one practice session where he had brushed against the peace found there. Skywalker didn't think it was safe to try using the lightside in these quarters.
Luke settled down into one of the black overstuffed chairs in the sitting room. He set the large view screen to show the stars- the Executor was parked around some Imperial world right now, and the view was peaceful as ships ferried up supplies to the large warship to replenish her stores.
Skywalker debated what to be angry about. He was not near proficient enough in use of the darkside to call up anger for no reason. 'Well, no one has even tried to rescue me yet. Either Rebel intelligence is so pitiful as to not know I'm here, or they are too scared to come get me.'
/
Darth Vader watched his son ungracefully slip into the meditation. Lord Vader was on the bridge, listening to another worthless report from his Admiral. He cut the man short, telling him to do whatever he thought was required, and stalked off the bridge and back to his quarters. He was rather surprised that Luke would chose such a topic to strengthen his anger, but he wasn't about to complain. Or inform the boy that he had gone through a lot of trouble to hide Skywalker's survival of Hoth from the Rebellion. They thought he was dead. And Vader had taken the time to have evidence planted on Hoth to enforce that 'fact', if anyone should ever look.
But now, his son would finally know. No more skirting the issue, or putting it off. Today, his son would finally learn of his future, at his side.
/
Luke plunged himself down through the years of his memory, using the Force to search his own past. He struggled to maintain his anger.
FlashFlashFlashFlashFlashFlash Skywalker, the man, lay sleeping in his bed on the Executor. He was tossing in nightmares. Luke was puzzled as he tried to distract himself. He remembered no nightmares on this ship. Then a dark figure slipped into the room, walking over to his prone form. A gloved hand caressed his brow, and Luke quieted. "Rest, my son. You are safe here. I would never hurt you."
Anger vanished, shock shattering concentration, the trance slipped from Luke. He stared at the stars, watching the Imperial shuttles restock the ship's stores. His father's ship. "My father is Darth Vader. Imperial Lord." He whispered.
It made sense. He hadn't felt truly afraid since that first night. He had been practically protected from the other Imperials by Vader. And he was being trained, which no one but a father would have done for a son who had been so active in the Rebellion. Luke could feel a smile tug his lips, he was already feeling the pull towards the father he never knew. He had found himself almost completely unable to maintain fear of the Dark Lord, it kept slipping through his fingers like dry sand. But why did Ben lie to him?
The door quietly swished open. Luke didn't need the faint hiss of the respirator to know who it was. A firm hand reached over the chair, grasping his shoulder. Luke let one hand rise up, covering the gloved fingers. He could feel the gauntlet, smooth armor held together by rough woven fabric.
He stood, pulling away from the hand, from the silent figure. He let his gaze rest on the stars- even if it was just screen. "I. I." he whispered suddenly ashamed, "I was told that."
"I know." The voice rumbled. "You were told everything they could think of in order that you would hate me. It was important that you hate me- you were to be trained to kill me. No one else had the strength in the Force to do it."
"And I," Luke was rapidly becoming bitter and angry as he began to see the extent of Ben's betrayal, "joined the Rebellion to avenge my father's death. What a fool I was believing every word that old man told me."
"Obi-wan lied to many people. He lied to me, he lied to you. I think he even lied to Owen and Beru Lars. He did whatever he wanted to set things up for my eventual death, since he was unable to do it right the first time."
"No." Luke gritted his teeth, "Owen knew. He knew who I was, and he told me that my father was a nobody pilot who died in a stupid accident, shipping spice. And Kenobi told him to tell me that." Luke didn't know where that last bit of information came from, but he knew it was true. The Force was whispering to him, a darkness that was pulling ever closer.
Darth Vader could feel the darkside pulling closer to his son, it was telling him things now- whispering truths that would not normally be available to someone of his level of training. A little more anger, and it could claim his son. "You needed to hate me. Obi-wan was unable to kill me, even if he was responsible for these injuries."
Luke's head snapped around. Obi-wan's words during the fight "No, I will take your wife and child from you, for their protection. Even if I have to hide them forever." Were coming through the Force, whispering their betrayal. Luke's jaw clenched as he saw, through the Force, the extent of his father's injuries.
"And, he stole me. And he broke our bond. Years. I've lost years. And he." Luke's face was flushing red in anger.
Vader stepped around the chair, hand reaching for Luke. It brushed his face. "Luke, reach with the anger. Touch the Force." Vader whispered, voice hissing. Furious, Luke did as he was told.
The Darkside responded, lunging at Luke like a panther, burrowing itself into him. The power leapt through Luke, burning with a dark fire. Luke screamed, it was like every nerve in his body had been turned all the way up, to full sensitivity. His eyes registered brightness to the point of pain, his ears heard every faint noise as great blasts of overwhelming sensation, and every nerve in his skin felt every point of pressure as firmly as a knifepoint cutting his skin.
Darth Vader caught Luke as he fell, the intense fire of the darkside leaving his boy, its mark firm upon him. Vader let himself slide to the floor, Luke still in his grasp. His son was weak and gasping, disoriented from the recent unexpected ordeal.
"What?" Luke mumbled, coming around. Vader waited, as Luke's consciousness refocused. Lord Vader smiled as his son did not pull away, content to rest in his arms, awaiting his explanation. He brushed a hand against Luke's brow, still smiling. His. His son- now and forever- here on the darkside. Nothing would pull them apart now. Darth Vader could see with the Force the mark upon his son. That old torn part of him, wounded from the breaking of the Force-bond between him and Luke, shifted. Small feelers began to search for Luke again.
"Initiation." Darth Vader explained. "The darkside has claimed you. The experience does hurt, but it does not harm. I will admit, it is possible to be claimed one small step at a time, but this way is better. You will be able to train faster now, and have a greater sensitivity to minute tremors in the Force."
"I had to ask to do the initiation." Darth Vader continued, his voice grating. "The darkside is different my son. It can be reasoned with, unlike the light. I think it is because it is more powerful." Reasoned with- but just barely. It was like forcing a star to move.
"Oh." Luke said, still fuzzy. "Initiation?"
Vader bit his lip, unseen behind the mask. His son would not quite understand the necessity of this, not right away, but it had to be done. "Sith. You're Sith now, and my apprentice." Darth Vader felt his son flinch, even as Luke tried to suppress it. Not surprising, considering his upbringing. He would come around. "It can't be undone. There is no turning back. We are together now." Vader stated, and Luke accepted it, wanting nothing more than the family he had never felt he had.
"You better rest. We can train tonight, but I have to get back to the bridge." Vader's voice took on an ominous note, " My latest Admiral is worthless."
/
Han Solo flung himself awake, tearing himself from the nightmare. He looked around his cabin on the Milinium Falcon, half expecting to see Darth Vader appear from the shadows.
'Oh, that was a bad one.' Han shivered, pulling on his pants and shirt. He didn't want to go to sleep after that. Better go check out the Falcon's navcomp or something. The hyperdrive was out, and they should get to Bespin in a few weeks, but he didn't want to be on this trip longer than he had to. The princess was being impossible, and confusing. Hey, if she wanted a tumble in the sack, why not be a little more up front about it? And if she wanted more than that, why not just say it? All this talk about 'commitment to the Alliance' seemed like confusing subliminal signals.
'Women. Why don't they just speak Basic?' Han grumbled as he headed for the cockpit.
Han walked into the cockpit, Chewbacca was already there, carefully checking circuits. Chewie moaned.
'What? Oh, I couldn't sleep. Bad dreams." Solo replied. A gruff warble. "No, I was not dreaming of. our passenger. I had a dream about Luke." A questioning snort.
Han answered slowly. "It wasn't a good dream, that's for sure. Luke was being tortured by Vader." Solo shivered at the memory. "He was screaming, and- this was the funny part- they weren't in a cell. They were in a room, and Vader was holding Luke."
Chewie responded with a cascade of sounds.
"Hey, I don't think it was my cooking!" A grunt. "Yeah, the kid's probably fine. We can joke about it when we get back to together."
/
Luke woke from his brief nap, yawning in his silken bed. He opened his eyes, grinning at the ceiling. Everything felt so right. He almost giggled, it shouldn't feel right. It shouldn't feel good at all.
He got up, and walked into the next room, flicking on the view-screen. The small shuttles were still replenishing the supplies of the mighty warship. Luke let his eyes travel over the scene, basking in the power of his father shown in so mundane a task.
He quickly turned back into his bedroom, heading for the fresher as he striped, dropping clothes on the floor. A quick shower, maybe a bite to eat. He wanted to be ready for tonight's training. He grinned as he noted the changes in his attitude. It was more than finding his father. He could sense the swirling energies of the darkside caressing him, but they no longer felt tainted, like they had before. Power, and all its glory, traced seductive fingers along his thoughts as the hot water pummeled his body.
Luke got out of the shower, picking up a thick towel. Water dripped over the floor as he dried himself. Once dry, he dropped the towel, swiping at the fogged mirror. He grinned again, wondering if he looked different.
No, his face was the same. He swiped the mirror again, and started in shock. There was a mark on his chest. A closer look, and a strange angular glyph was revealed. About as big as the palm of his hand, it was placed right over the center of his chest, over his heart. It was black, and seemed to be seared right into his skin.
'The darkside has claimed me.' Luke thought. 'No turning back.' Somehow he knew that this glyph was Sith.
/
The throne room was dark, back walls mocking the little light that trickled down from above. Stale air swirled around the two figures walking down from the throne. One was an aged man in a black robe. Yellow eyes peered out from the huge cowl, wrinkled lips grimaced in displeasure. The other man was black, his tight curly hair white with age, his skin weathered and worn. He was wearing a bright red military uniform and was helping the aged Emperor walk down the stairs.
"Your majesty, if I may ask a question concerning Skywalker?" The red-clad man asked.
"You may." Came the whispered response.
"It is my understanding that the young boy has been turned from his Jedi ways- Lord Vader's report seemed to indicate as much. Yet the dark lord has not brought the man here, to prove the young one's loyalty- and it has been months. I am concerned for your safety. Is there anything you need done?"
"Heh. You and your Protectors should always be concerned for my safety. That is your reason for existing, my friend." The venomous hiss came from the black hood. "But I have chosen to let Lord Vader train his Jedi brat in the ways of the Sith. The darkside powers will shape the young man into the perfect Imperial."
The black man's face became clouded with worry. "Excuse me, your majesty- but is that wise? I have never been convinced of Lord Vader's complete loyalty. And the two might become allies."
The Emperor shrugged, a weak movement of the shoulders. "The Sith teachings will make the boy hunger for power. When he is trained, I will make him an offer that he won't refuse. Lord Vader will die. And I will have a fresh, young Lord of the Sith to carry out my will."
The Captain of the Imperial Sovereign Protectors didn't say a word. As a rule, he did not judge his majesty's plans.
"However," the aged one whispered, "it is time for some of your new blood to go on another training exercise, isn't it? Perhaps they could keep an eye on things while they are there- since Lord Vader will be bringing his son home. Quite the joyful reunion I imagine."
The black man grinned. "Yes, your majesty. High time indeed."
/
The Admiral stood at attention in Vader's quarters as he gave his lord the final report before Lord Vader left to visit his castle. "The repair crews for the routine maintenance are boarding now, my lord. We should be done with this minor refit within thirty days."
"Very well. Contact me if there are any major problems." The rasping voice of Dark Lord grated from the unmoving form.
A door in the back of Vader's audience room swooshed open, startling the Admiral. He hid it well, but was unable to stop himself from glancing at the cause of the disruption. He had always wondered what, or who, Vader kept in his private chambers. The Admiral had heard several rumors, from dancing girls to the rotting corpses of Lord Vader's enemies. Considering no one had seen the Rebel pilot since he entered, the Admiral was beginning to believe the later.
The Rebel pilot himself stepped out, his clothes neat, his back straight. The Admiral tried to focus his eyes back on the Dark Lord, but he was too fascinated by what he saw. 'The man is still alive?' Was all he could think. 'How long has it been? And he looks undamaged, but.'
"Admiral," the mechanical voice cracked, "escort Skywalker down to my shuttle. I will join him shortly."
The Admiral bowed and motioned to the Rebel to precede him out the door, his mind burning with curiosity. They walked down the corridor together, both silent. As they entered the turbolift to the hangar, the Admiral cleared his throat.
"So, have you enjoyed Lord Vader's hospitality?"
The Admiral couldn't begin to guess what the Rebel's response would be, but the slow smile was still a complete surprise. The smile grew into a hungry grin. "Oh," the Rebel softly said, "I have enjoyed myself immensely. Why if I had known, I would have surrendered long ago." The doors swished open, revealing the hangar. "The accommodations were quite exquisite, and the women were unbelievably friendly."
As the Rebel walked out into the hangar, the Admiral belatedly following. The Rebel said one last thing before he walked onto the shuttle, his voice dripping with irony, "But Admiral, the trophies were a bit much."
The Admiral found himself staring at the open doors to the shuttle, his mouth hanging open. He closed his jaw with a snap, and nervously looking around, then he began walking back to the bridge.
/
"Captain Solo- I-" words failed Wedge. The Millinium Falcon had touched down only hours ago. Because of their lack of contact with the Alliance, the three passengers and their droids hadn't known about Skywalker's death. Leia had gone to report to High Command, but Han and Chewie had stayed near their ship. It had taken them three months to get to Bespin and get the repairs the Falcon needed. Not to mention dodging Bobba Fett. But they had gotten back to the Alliance. They had landed, and Han had expected the blond boy to come running up, but instead, it had been Wedge, walking slowly.
Wedge had felt the need to tell them, before they found out from someone else. He had taken Hobbie for support.
"No." Han gruffly whispered. Chewie moaned, pulling Han close. Han tried to wave the giant furball off. "It's okay. It's war. It happens." Han leaned against his co-pilot, blinking tears, holding them in. "Damn kid. Always told him hot-shoting around would get him killed." Han sighed. "On Hoth? He never made it off?"
"Yeah." Wedge mumbled.
"You sure?" Han Solo asked, voice cold.
"Command is. His bounty's still posted, and the Imperials are still looking for him. Command says they don't know."
"In three months?" Han was incredulous.
"We haven't made a general announcement." Wedge replied, trying to explain.
"Our security is not that good." Han said.
Wedge didn't argue, he felt the same way. Skywalker had been too important not to be noticed that he was gone by now.
Han looked at Wedge, eyes holding something back. "How sure, Commander? How sure is Command?"
"I-" Wedge said, feeling flustered.
"I had a dream." Han whispered, dropped his head. Both Wedge and Hobbie exchanged worried glances. "Vader had him. In a room, with black furniture."
Wedge and Hobbie flinched. Chewie warbled a question.
"With strange art, and a view of the stars on one side?" Wedge whispered.
Han's head snapped up. "The furniture was overstuffed black leather, and Luke was wearing black Imp boots. And black pants."
"Blue shirt?" Wedge asked, face pale.
"Couldn't see that. Vader was bending over him, holding him." Han replied, his voice shaking.
"And Luke was screaming," Wedge said, eyes closing.
"Vader was kneeling on the floor." Han whispered. He looked pale, so did Hobbie. Sudden silence stretched out.
Finally, Hobbie broke the silence. "I think we need to talk to Command."
'It doesn't make any sense.' Luke thought, pacing the room. The weeks had past, and he was just as confused by the Dark Lord's behavior as he had been in the beginning. 'Look at this-' his eyes scanned the suite, falling on the fine furnishings, the exquisite art. 'The artwork is nothing but originals. I don't know about the furniture, but it is expensive. I've been given an extensive wardrobe. I can tap into the holonet, only Imperial approved sites, but still. And he. he's been almost friendly.' Skywalker grimly smiled. 'Well, if you think driving me to exhaustion with a practice blade, locking me in his quarters, and questioning me about my past is friendly, then yes, he has been friendly.' Luke frowned, rubbing a small burn on his shoulder from the practice blade. The blade didn't injure, but it did leave welts. 'And trying to make me angry- but I think that has more to do with the training he's trying to give me.'
The young man twisted himself away from that thought. He knew that a Jedi could not learn to be a Jedi from a Sith- but what else could he do? No one else could teach him, and he was a prisoner. He had looked for anything, any shred of information on the Jedi, on someone who could teach him, after Ben had died- been killed- but he could find nothing. It was frustrating, knowing that a whole new world of abilities lay just out of reach, just because no one could show him the way. Luke yearned for that knowledge, and here it was, being thrust upon him. Why should he argue?
'But it doesn't explain why he's been friendly. He ought to want to kill me. But I can't sense any hatred from him toward me at all, and I've usually been able to sense people's true feelings. It. It has to do something with my father, he said as much that first day.' Luke pondered. 'Well, let's see. He knew my father, but they were not friends, but Vader must feel a responsibility towards me because of him. He seems to be trying to "reform" me.' Luke cast his thoughts across all the relationships he had known, trying to find the parallels. He shuddered, thinking of two B'rrillians he had known in the Rebellion. One was older than the other, and he kept trying to keep his younger nephew in line. 'What if, what if we are related?' Luke could feel the goose bumps forming on his body. 'It's possible, I don't know much about my family at all. It would explain a lot.' Luke fingered the sleeve of his finely woven shirt, eyes tracing the graceful curves of the sculpture in the corner. 'But I'm not going to ask him. No, I'll ask the Force.'
Luke looked grim. He did not like meditating in the Force, the anger was hard to maintain and it left him feeling dirty. But he needed to know. Briefly, he thought about using the lightside, but pushed the idea away. He didn't know how, and Darth Vader had been downright viscous in the one practice session where he had brushed against the peace found there. Skywalker didn't think it was safe to try using the lightside in these quarters.
Luke settled down into one of the black overstuffed chairs in the sitting room. He set the large view screen to show the stars- the Executor was parked around some Imperial world right now, and the view was peaceful as ships ferried up supplies to the large warship to replenish her stores.
Skywalker debated what to be angry about. He was not near proficient enough in use of the darkside to call up anger for no reason. 'Well, no one has even tried to rescue me yet. Either Rebel intelligence is so pitiful as to not know I'm here, or they are too scared to come get me.'
/
Darth Vader watched his son ungracefully slip into the meditation. Lord Vader was on the bridge, listening to another worthless report from his Admiral. He cut the man short, telling him to do whatever he thought was required, and stalked off the bridge and back to his quarters. He was rather surprised that Luke would chose such a topic to strengthen his anger, but he wasn't about to complain. Or inform the boy that he had gone through a lot of trouble to hide Skywalker's survival of Hoth from the Rebellion. They thought he was dead. And Vader had taken the time to have evidence planted on Hoth to enforce that 'fact', if anyone should ever look.
But now, his son would finally know. No more skirting the issue, or putting it off. Today, his son would finally learn of his future, at his side.
/
Luke plunged himself down through the years of his memory, using the Force to search his own past. He struggled to maintain his anger.
FlashFlashFlashFlashFlashFlash Skywalker, the man, lay sleeping in his bed on the Executor. He was tossing in nightmares. Luke was puzzled as he tried to distract himself. He remembered no nightmares on this ship. Then a dark figure slipped into the room, walking over to his prone form. A gloved hand caressed his brow, and Luke quieted. "Rest, my son. You are safe here. I would never hurt you."
Anger vanished, shock shattering concentration, the trance slipped from Luke. He stared at the stars, watching the Imperial shuttles restock the ship's stores. His father's ship. "My father is Darth Vader. Imperial Lord." He whispered.
It made sense. He hadn't felt truly afraid since that first night. He had been practically protected from the other Imperials by Vader. And he was being trained, which no one but a father would have done for a son who had been so active in the Rebellion. Luke could feel a smile tug his lips, he was already feeling the pull towards the father he never knew. He had found himself almost completely unable to maintain fear of the Dark Lord, it kept slipping through his fingers like dry sand. But why did Ben lie to him?
The door quietly swished open. Luke didn't need the faint hiss of the respirator to know who it was. A firm hand reached over the chair, grasping his shoulder. Luke let one hand rise up, covering the gloved fingers. He could feel the gauntlet, smooth armor held together by rough woven fabric.
He stood, pulling away from the hand, from the silent figure. He let his gaze rest on the stars- even if it was just screen. "I. I." he whispered suddenly ashamed, "I was told that."
"I know." The voice rumbled. "You were told everything they could think of in order that you would hate me. It was important that you hate me- you were to be trained to kill me. No one else had the strength in the Force to do it."
"And I," Luke was rapidly becoming bitter and angry as he began to see the extent of Ben's betrayal, "joined the Rebellion to avenge my father's death. What a fool I was believing every word that old man told me."
"Obi-wan lied to many people. He lied to me, he lied to you. I think he even lied to Owen and Beru Lars. He did whatever he wanted to set things up for my eventual death, since he was unable to do it right the first time."
"No." Luke gritted his teeth, "Owen knew. He knew who I was, and he told me that my father was a nobody pilot who died in a stupid accident, shipping spice. And Kenobi told him to tell me that." Luke didn't know where that last bit of information came from, but he knew it was true. The Force was whispering to him, a darkness that was pulling ever closer.
Darth Vader could feel the darkside pulling closer to his son, it was telling him things now- whispering truths that would not normally be available to someone of his level of training. A little more anger, and it could claim his son. "You needed to hate me. Obi-wan was unable to kill me, even if he was responsible for these injuries."
Luke's head snapped around. Obi-wan's words during the fight "No, I will take your wife and child from you, for their protection. Even if I have to hide them forever." Were coming through the Force, whispering their betrayal. Luke's jaw clenched as he saw, through the Force, the extent of his father's injuries.
"And, he stole me. And he broke our bond. Years. I've lost years. And he." Luke's face was flushing red in anger.
Vader stepped around the chair, hand reaching for Luke. It brushed his face. "Luke, reach with the anger. Touch the Force." Vader whispered, voice hissing. Furious, Luke did as he was told.
The Darkside responded, lunging at Luke like a panther, burrowing itself into him. The power leapt through Luke, burning with a dark fire. Luke screamed, it was like every nerve in his body had been turned all the way up, to full sensitivity. His eyes registered brightness to the point of pain, his ears heard every faint noise as great blasts of overwhelming sensation, and every nerve in his skin felt every point of pressure as firmly as a knifepoint cutting his skin.
Darth Vader caught Luke as he fell, the intense fire of the darkside leaving his boy, its mark firm upon him. Vader let himself slide to the floor, Luke still in his grasp. His son was weak and gasping, disoriented from the recent unexpected ordeal.
"What?" Luke mumbled, coming around. Vader waited, as Luke's consciousness refocused. Lord Vader smiled as his son did not pull away, content to rest in his arms, awaiting his explanation. He brushed a hand against Luke's brow, still smiling. His. His son- now and forever- here on the darkside. Nothing would pull them apart now. Darth Vader could see with the Force the mark upon his son. That old torn part of him, wounded from the breaking of the Force-bond between him and Luke, shifted. Small feelers began to search for Luke again.
"Initiation." Darth Vader explained. "The darkside has claimed you. The experience does hurt, but it does not harm. I will admit, it is possible to be claimed one small step at a time, but this way is better. You will be able to train faster now, and have a greater sensitivity to minute tremors in the Force."
"I had to ask to do the initiation." Darth Vader continued, his voice grating. "The darkside is different my son. It can be reasoned with, unlike the light. I think it is because it is more powerful." Reasoned with- but just barely. It was like forcing a star to move.
"Oh." Luke said, still fuzzy. "Initiation?"
Vader bit his lip, unseen behind the mask. His son would not quite understand the necessity of this, not right away, but it had to be done. "Sith. You're Sith now, and my apprentice." Darth Vader felt his son flinch, even as Luke tried to suppress it. Not surprising, considering his upbringing. He would come around. "It can't be undone. There is no turning back. We are together now." Vader stated, and Luke accepted it, wanting nothing more than the family he had never felt he had.
"You better rest. We can train tonight, but I have to get back to the bridge." Vader's voice took on an ominous note, " My latest Admiral is worthless."
/
Han Solo flung himself awake, tearing himself from the nightmare. He looked around his cabin on the Milinium Falcon, half expecting to see Darth Vader appear from the shadows.
'Oh, that was a bad one.' Han shivered, pulling on his pants and shirt. He didn't want to go to sleep after that. Better go check out the Falcon's navcomp or something. The hyperdrive was out, and they should get to Bespin in a few weeks, but he didn't want to be on this trip longer than he had to. The princess was being impossible, and confusing. Hey, if she wanted a tumble in the sack, why not be a little more up front about it? And if she wanted more than that, why not just say it? All this talk about 'commitment to the Alliance' seemed like confusing subliminal signals.
'Women. Why don't they just speak Basic?' Han grumbled as he headed for the cockpit.
Han walked into the cockpit, Chewbacca was already there, carefully checking circuits. Chewie moaned.
'What? Oh, I couldn't sleep. Bad dreams." Solo replied. A gruff warble. "No, I was not dreaming of. our passenger. I had a dream about Luke." A questioning snort.
Han answered slowly. "It wasn't a good dream, that's for sure. Luke was being tortured by Vader." Solo shivered at the memory. "He was screaming, and- this was the funny part- they weren't in a cell. They were in a room, and Vader was holding Luke."
Chewie responded with a cascade of sounds.
"Hey, I don't think it was my cooking!" A grunt. "Yeah, the kid's probably fine. We can joke about it when we get back to together."
/
Luke woke from his brief nap, yawning in his silken bed. He opened his eyes, grinning at the ceiling. Everything felt so right. He almost giggled, it shouldn't feel right. It shouldn't feel good at all.
He got up, and walked into the next room, flicking on the view-screen. The small shuttles were still replenishing the supplies of the mighty warship. Luke let his eyes travel over the scene, basking in the power of his father shown in so mundane a task.
He quickly turned back into his bedroom, heading for the fresher as he striped, dropping clothes on the floor. A quick shower, maybe a bite to eat. He wanted to be ready for tonight's training. He grinned as he noted the changes in his attitude. It was more than finding his father. He could sense the swirling energies of the darkside caressing him, but they no longer felt tainted, like they had before. Power, and all its glory, traced seductive fingers along his thoughts as the hot water pummeled his body.
Luke got out of the shower, picking up a thick towel. Water dripped over the floor as he dried himself. Once dry, he dropped the towel, swiping at the fogged mirror. He grinned again, wondering if he looked different.
No, his face was the same. He swiped the mirror again, and started in shock. There was a mark on his chest. A closer look, and a strange angular glyph was revealed. About as big as the palm of his hand, it was placed right over the center of his chest, over his heart. It was black, and seemed to be seared right into his skin.
'The darkside has claimed me.' Luke thought. 'No turning back.' Somehow he knew that this glyph was Sith.
/
The throne room was dark, back walls mocking the little light that trickled down from above. Stale air swirled around the two figures walking down from the throne. One was an aged man in a black robe. Yellow eyes peered out from the huge cowl, wrinkled lips grimaced in displeasure. The other man was black, his tight curly hair white with age, his skin weathered and worn. He was wearing a bright red military uniform and was helping the aged Emperor walk down the stairs.
"Your majesty, if I may ask a question concerning Skywalker?" The red-clad man asked.
"You may." Came the whispered response.
"It is my understanding that the young boy has been turned from his Jedi ways- Lord Vader's report seemed to indicate as much. Yet the dark lord has not brought the man here, to prove the young one's loyalty- and it has been months. I am concerned for your safety. Is there anything you need done?"
"Heh. You and your Protectors should always be concerned for my safety. That is your reason for existing, my friend." The venomous hiss came from the black hood. "But I have chosen to let Lord Vader train his Jedi brat in the ways of the Sith. The darkside powers will shape the young man into the perfect Imperial."
The black man's face became clouded with worry. "Excuse me, your majesty- but is that wise? I have never been convinced of Lord Vader's complete loyalty. And the two might become allies."
The Emperor shrugged, a weak movement of the shoulders. "The Sith teachings will make the boy hunger for power. When he is trained, I will make him an offer that he won't refuse. Lord Vader will die. And I will have a fresh, young Lord of the Sith to carry out my will."
The Captain of the Imperial Sovereign Protectors didn't say a word. As a rule, he did not judge his majesty's plans.
"However," the aged one whispered, "it is time for some of your new blood to go on another training exercise, isn't it? Perhaps they could keep an eye on things while they are there- since Lord Vader will be bringing his son home. Quite the joyful reunion I imagine."
The black man grinned. "Yes, your majesty. High time indeed."
/
The Admiral stood at attention in Vader's quarters as he gave his lord the final report before Lord Vader left to visit his castle. "The repair crews for the routine maintenance are boarding now, my lord. We should be done with this minor refit within thirty days."
"Very well. Contact me if there are any major problems." The rasping voice of Dark Lord grated from the unmoving form.
A door in the back of Vader's audience room swooshed open, startling the Admiral. He hid it well, but was unable to stop himself from glancing at the cause of the disruption. He had always wondered what, or who, Vader kept in his private chambers. The Admiral had heard several rumors, from dancing girls to the rotting corpses of Lord Vader's enemies. Considering no one had seen the Rebel pilot since he entered, the Admiral was beginning to believe the later.
The Rebel pilot himself stepped out, his clothes neat, his back straight. The Admiral tried to focus his eyes back on the Dark Lord, but he was too fascinated by what he saw. 'The man is still alive?' Was all he could think. 'How long has it been? And he looks undamaged, but.'
"Admiral," the mechanical voice cracked, "escort Skywalker down to my shuttle. I will join him shortly."
The Admiral bowed and motioned to the Rebel to precede him out the door, his mind burning with curiosity. They walked down the corridor together, both silent. As they entered the turbolift to the hangar, the Admiral cleared his throat.
"So, have you enjoyed Lord Vader's hospitality?"
The Admiral couldn't begin to guess what the Rebel's response would be, but the slow smile was still a complete surprise. The smile grew into a hungry grin. "Oh," the Rebel softly said, "I have enjoyed myself immensely. Why if I had known, I would have surrendered long ago." The doors swished open, revealing the hangar. "The accommodations were quite exquisite, and the women were unbelievably friendly."
As the Rebel walked out into the hangar, the Admiral belatedly following. The Rebel said one last thing before he walked onto the shuttle, his voice dripping with irony, "But Admiral, the trophies were a bit much."
The Admiral found himself staring at the open doors to the shuttle, his mouth hanging open. He closed his jaw with a snap, and nervously looking around, then he began walking back to the bridge.
/
"Captain Solo- I-" words failed Wedge. The Millinium Falcon had touched down only hours ago. Because of their lack of contact with the Alliance, the three passengers and their droids hadn't known about Skywalker's death. Leia had gone to report to High Command, but Han and Chewie had stayed near their ship. It had taken them three months to get to Bespin and get the repairs the Falcon needed. Not to mention dodging Bobba Fett. But they had gotten back to the Alliance. They had landed, and Han had expected the blond boy to come running up, but instead, it had been Wedge, walking slowly.
Wedge had felt the need to tell them, before they found out from someone else. He had taken Hobbie for support.
"No." Han gruffly whispered. Chewie moaned, pulling Han close. Han tried to wave the giant furball off. "It's okay. It's war. It happens." Han leaned against his co-pilot, blinking tears, holding them in. "Damn kid. Always told him hot-shoting around would get him killed." Han sighed. "On Hoth? He never made it off?"
"Yeah." Wedge mumbled.
"You sure?" Han Solo asked, voice cold.
"Command is. His bounty's still posted, and the Imperials are still looking for him. Command says they don't know."
"In three months?" Han was incredulous.
"We haven't made a general announcement." Wedge replied, trying to explain.
"Our security is not that good." Han said.
Wedge didn't argue, he felt the same way. Skywalker had been too important not to be noticed that he was gone by now.
Han looked at Wedge, eyes holding something back. "How sure, Commander? How sure is Command?"
"I-" Wedge said, feeling flustered.
"I had a dream." Han whispered, dropped his head. Both Wedge and Hobbie exchanged worried glances. "Vader had him. In a room, with black furniture."
Wedge and Hobbie flinched. Chewie warbled a question.
"With strange art, and a view of the stars on one side?" Wedge whispered.
Han's head snapped up. "The furniture was overstuffed black leather, and Luke was wearing black Imp boots. And black pants."
"Blue shirt?" Wedge asked, face pale.
"Couldn't see that. Vader was bending over him, holding him." Han replied, his voice shaking.
"And Luke was screaming," Wedge said, eyes closing.
"Vader was kneeling on the floor." Han whispered. He looked pale, so did Hobbie. Sudden silence stretched out.
Finally, Hobbie broke the silence. "I think we need to talk to Command."
