Part XVI -- Family Matters
Luke and Trapper were playing Stratego in Trapper's room, and Luke was losing badly. He'd thought Austin just liked to let his son win, but as it turned out Trapper was quite adept at this game. The first few times Luke had played half-heartedly, trying to be nice to the boy, but when Trapper took him to the cleaners each time Luke began playing dirty, even cheating, but he still couldn't win a single game.
"Eleven in a row," Trapper announced as he gleefully finished that round up. "Another?"
"I think my ego's been bruised enough today," Luke replied.
"Aw, come on!"
"Let's play a different game. You have a lot of them."
Trapper huffed. "I wish I could take some of them home when I go home in July. Mom doesn't like Star Wars. I have to keep most of my collection here 'cause she can't stand the sight of it."
Luke's brow furrowed. He'd assumed Austin was a widower. "You don't live with your dad?"
"No, but I wish I could. Mom lives across the country almost, and she and Dad fight all the time over who gets to see me when. They divorced when I was five."
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't make them divorce!" He began setting up the board for a twelfth go-round. "So, how'd you like the fanfic?"
Luke just shook his head. "I found this website called Luke/Vader with some fascinating stories on it. I've been working on 'Force Bond.' I must say, it's a unique story."
Trapper grinned. "At Nova-Con they have a fan fiction contest. You can sign up to be a judge if you want. I have to go home two days before Nova-Con, but Dad's gonna submit a story for me."
"Ah. Interesting."
"There's also a fan art contest and a costume contest and a fan film contest. It's loads of fun! And I have to miss it!" He snorted.
Outside someone screamed, and Trapper ran to the window, flung aside the "Return of the Jedi" curtains, and thrust his head out. Luke joined him to see what the racket was about.
A battered, rust-pocked yellow car was lurching up the road, going far too fast and swerving like a drunken bantha. Someone inside the vehicle was screeching "Brake! The brake! The pedal on the left! No, no, right lane you blockhead!"
The vehicle spun one hundred eighty degrees and came to a halt in front of Austin's house, two of its wheels up on the sidewalk. Amethyst sprang from the passenger side door, laughing and grinning, while Vader emerged from the driver's side door, not looking ruffled in the least.
"Woo-hoo!" she cried. "Not bad for a first-timer! But remember to go the speed limit, okay? If the cops pull you over and you don't have a license, we're both screwed."
"What are you doing?" called Trapper.
"I'm teaching the big guy to drive, just for the heck of it!" Amethyst shouted. "Nothing else to do in this one-horse town until Nova-Con."
"Trapper, is your father home?" inquired Vader, staring up at the two.
"He's in the kitchen, mucking out the oven," Trapper replied. "Just knock and come in."
"I want a word with you, son," Vader added, pointing at Luke, then continued toward the door.
Puzzled but curious as to what Vader wished to discuss, Luke went downstairs, Trapper at his heels. Austin had his head, arms, and shoulders inside the cooking unit, grunting and swearing as he chipped out cinders and fossilized goop. Vader stood near the kitchen, eyeing Luke before he addressed Austin.
"Mr. Powers."
There was a bang and a loud expletive as Austin extracted himself from the oven. Upon seeing Trapper he said "If I catch you using that word I'll wash your mouth out with soap."
Trapper grimaced. "I won't."
"What is it, Lord Vader?" asked Austin.
"Vader," he corrected. "From now on, simply 'Vader' will do."
"All right, what is it, Vader?"
"May Luke and I speak a little in private?"
Austin looked at him suspiciously. "On the condition that I hold your lightsabers until you're done."
Vader handed over his weapon. Luke did the same.
"Trapper, let's go up to your room," Austin suggested. "I'll see if I can't finally whip your tush at Stratego."
"In your dreams," Trapper gloated as they disappeared upstairs.
Luke and Vader entered the living room, and Vader had a seat on the couch. Neither one spoke for a long while. At first Luke wondered if Vader had come here to attempt to kill him again. But if that were the case he would never have surrendered his lightsaber.
Finally Vader spoke. "My son, I owe you an apology."
Luke shrugged. "I don't see what for..."
"Don't give me that, Luke," Vader snapped. "You must be blind if you cannot see what for! I murdered your Jedi instructor. I tortured your friends. I wounded you on Cloud City. I tried to kill you -- you! My own son! -- at the Osmond's party only two days ago! And you tell me I don't owe you an apology?"
Luke shook his head. "No, Father. Because I already forgive you." He looked away. "Because I want us to start over. Because... I want my father back." His eyes stung with unshed tears as he sat beside his father.
Vader couldn't look at him. "I have behaved shamefully, Luke," he moaned. "I have committed one vile act after another. I betrayed the Jedi Order and everything I once stood for. I am not worthy to be called 'father.'"
Luke wanted to deny that, but he kept silent, letting Vader go on talking.
"Just today," Vader continued, "I spoke at length with Amethyst. She told me a little more about the members of Vader's Elite. Without exception, they have all gone through trials that would scare your hair white."
He proceeded to tell Luke about them, about how the Church family lost two boys while they were only infants, how Sparky had escaped serious harm as a soldier in war but became paralyzed in a car accident mere days after his discharge, how Liberty was a survivor of a cancer that left her unable to bear children. How the Osmonds once lived in New York City as members of rival gangs, each never realizing the other was a mortal enemy until they were assigned to assassinate each other, and how they had been forced to flee, leaving their family and all they could not pack in five minutes behind. How Brigham was constantly harassed for being a Mormon and how Liz suffered similar abuse for being Jewish, as did Steve and Emily for being homosexual, a rarity in this conservative town.
Luke was shocked that such seemingly carefree people could have suffered so. Zack never acted as if his sister had been kidnapped and murdered when he was fourteen, and Cody had never revealed that he had an incurable illness known as diabetes that complicated his life. Darcy had been gang-raped at age fifteen, Mike had spent three years in prison, wrongfully convicted of a bank robbery, and Amethyst had spent all her childhood being shuttled from one foster home to another to spare her from her drug-addicted parents.
"And Austin's ex-wife takes sadistic pleasure in denying him the right to see his son on a regular basis," Luke added. "That's all very sad, but why are you telling me this?"
"Look at them, Luke. They have suffered hardships. And have any of them turned into this?" He touched his chest panel. "No. They lived through and continue to live through their trials. They don't let their burdens weigh them down. For the most part, they live happy, productive lives. And I..." He clenched his fists in self-loathing fury. "I destroyed myself. Myself and the Order. I felt justified in what I did because the Order had forbidden me from rescuing my mother when I sensed she was in danger, and because I was banned from marrying my love. I felt Obi-wan and the Jedi had betrayed me. But I now realize I cannot continue blaming them for my fall."
"I'm sure those of the Elite had their bad times too," Luke said quietly. "They bear scars that will never completely heal..."
"Shut up," snapped Vader. "My point is that I cannot continue hiding behind a veil of victimization. My crimes against the galaxy are inexcusable. There is no justification for the atrocities I committed." His broad shoulders trembled. "How can you think there is something in this human wreckage worth saving, Luke? What good can you see in me?"
Lump in his throat, Luke placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "I see a man repentant, Father. A man who recognizes that he has done wrong and wishes to make amends. Above all... I see my father." His voice cracked.
Vader gave a distorted, sarcastic laugh. "Some father I've been. I cut off my own son's hand and try to shove him into a dark destiny that doesn't belong to him. Ah yes, I've been the Father of the Year." He put a hand to the "cheek" of his mask. "Curse this helmet. I can't even wipe my eyes."
"Father... please consider my offer," Luke pleaded. "About coming back to the Alliance with me."
"I'll need some time," was Vader's quiet reply.
Abruptly he pulled Luke to his chest, embracing him. At that, Luke lost all composure. Hot tears washed his cheeks as he held tightly to his father, to all he had left of a family. He hated his father's crimes, but he could no longer hate the man behind the mask.
"Forgive me, Luke," Vader choked. "For leaving you without a father. I should have been there for you. I swear to you, Luke, I will do all in my power to make restitution for leaving you fatherless."
"I believe you," Luke croaked through his tight throat.
He didn't know how long they sat there on the couch, hours or mere minutes, sharing their first true father-and-son moment ever. All he knew was that he finally became aware of an insistent rapping.
"Someone down there get the door!" Austin shouted.
Vader released Luke, stood, and opened the front door. Boba Fett awaited him, the Osmond's car just departing.
"You're here," Fett noted, stating the obvious. "Good. We need to talk. Where's Austin?"
"Right here," Austin answered, descending the stairs. "Trapper's in his room on his Game Boy Advance. Want me to call him down?"
"Not necessary."
"Come on in," Austin offered. He led his guest into the living room. "Luke, are you okay? Your eyes are all red."
Luke wiped his nose on his sleeve. "It's the fumes from the oven cleaner."
"I see," Austin replied, not entirely convinced. "Use a tissue." He sat down on the coffee table while Vader returned to the couch and Fett claimed the computer chair. "What's the problem, Fett?"
"I was at an outdoor market with the Osmonds and Churches and had to take Rachel to the restroom," he explained. "In the men's room of the Leapfrog Diner, we were ambushed by an assassin droid named IG-88."
Austin gave a low whistle. "You two okay?"
"Yes," Fett replied. "I destroyed it. Unfortunately, I used a detonator and destroyed the restroom in the process."
Austin whistled again. "Nasty. Suppose they'll blame it on a gas leak, though."
"How did it find us?" Luke wondered, stunned. He'd thought Area 51 was secure and out-of-the-way enough to deter bounty hunters.
"The important thing is that it traced us, not how it did so," Vader said balefully. "I sense IG-88 will not be the last visitor we encounter."
"What can we do?" asked Austin. "We don't have blasters or shields here. How can we protect ourselves?"
"Keep an eye out for suspicious activity," Vader replied. "Avoid anyone who seems unfamiliar with aspects of Earth life. If you suspect someone might not be of Earth origin, report them to us."
"And if it's just someone visiting from another country for the convention, what then?" Austin inquired.
"Once we have ascertained he is native to your world, we will let him go about his business," Vader answered. "At this point, I would rather err on the side of caution."
Austin nodded. "I'll inform the others."
Fett stood, satisfied that a conclusion had been reached. "I must go."
"Need a ride?" asked Austin.
"I'll walk," he replied.
"Vader, you need a ride?"
"No thank you," Vader said. "Amethyst is waiting outside. I'll go with her."
"Don't wreck her car," Austin warned. "Just 'cause it looks like a piece of junk doesn't mean she doesn't like it. Sith or no, she'll skin you alive and use your hide to upholster the car if you so much as dent it."
Vader chuckled. "Her and what army?"
The Dragon Stone was a cozy nook about the size of a Y-wing hangar, its walls positively crammed with books. Another bookshelf down its center was marked "New Releases," and tables and chairs invited patrons to sit and stay awhile after making their selections. In one corner, magazines were available for purchase; in another, a sign proclaimed "Pastries Fresh-Baked: $1 -- Free Coffee." Pictures of savage dragons, sleek starships, fearsome monsters, armored warriors, and powerful magicians decorated the walls above the shelves.
It was a decidedly pleasant place to spend the afternoon, Fett decided as he pushed open the door, a set of chimes announcing his entrance.
The Osmonds were gracious enough to let him stay at their place, but he could only take so much of their noise, mess, and madness. He had to get out, move around, and Star City during the Eye of the Storm was the perfect time and place to do so without his armor drawing stares. Besides, Cody had told him about a book series featuring none other than himself titled "The Bounty Hunter Wars," and Jason and Patrick didn't own that series. He wanted to check the novels out.
There were five other customers in the Dragon Stone. One, an average-looking young adult male, browsed through a section marked "Classic Sci-fi -- Shakespeare -- Mythology." Two Stargeeks, one in scouttrooper armor and the other in Luke Skywalker's Tatooine garb, sat at a table in the far corner and gawked their way through a "Star Wars Insider" magazine. A Rebel in Hoth gear was finishing up his purchase of a stack of "New Jedi Order" novels, and a Zam Wessel quietly read her own book at a center table.
Fett scowled. He'd hoped not to run into Liz today. He'd about had enough of that woman. He made his selections and took them to the register.
"Good afternoon, Robert," Liberty greeted as she rang up his purchases. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Cody recommended these," he replied, pulling a bill out of his pocket and handing it over -- Patrick had given him a little spending money after finding out about the pizza incident. "Now to go back to the Osmonds' to see if his praise is accurate."
"Why don't you sit here and read?" invited Liberty. "There's plenty of table room."
Fett turned to regard Liz, then faced Liberty again.
"I see," she noted. "Well Rob, you can't make everybody happy. But you don't have to let her animosity ruin your life either. Just try to be cordial, okay?"
A young man in jeans and a "Lord of the Rings" T-shirt stuck his head out of a back room. "Miss King, the publisher called. Our shipment of 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' got backordered."
Liberty groaned. "Terrific. What else can go wrong? I was counting on those to up business!"
Fett turned toward the door, then reconsidered. Liz had spunk, despite her stubbornness, and though she annoyed him, she also intrigued him. He took a seat at her table, slapped the books onto the table, and waited for her to notice him. She was so deeply engrossed in "Wizard's First Rule," however, that she hadn't seen him approach.
"Liz."
She gasped and nearly jumped out of her chair. "Oh, it's you."
"Liz, for the last time, drop the blaster incident. Don't let it ruin the rest of the Eye of the Storm for you." When she didn't reply he reached over and pulled off her headphones. "Can you hear me?"
"Give those back!" she hissed. "That's Fleetwood Mac! You don't mess with Fleetwood Mac, bucko!"
He ignored her and clapped them over the auditory enhancers on his helmet. Though he was by no means a connoisseur of music, he had heard many songs -- or noise that passed itself off as songs -- over the years, and this was by far some of the best music he'd ever heard. He began tapping one foot to the beat, but Liz ripped the headphones from him.
"I can see why you wear those all the time," he noted.
"All right, all right, I forgive you," she humphed. "But don't expect me to trust you."
"As well you shouldn't. I am a bounty hunter first and forever."
"Then go hunt something and leave me alone," she snapped, standing. "And take off the stupid mask once in awhile!"
Cody entered the store just as she was exiting, and the two nearly collided. He noted her mood, sat down at Fett's table, and began caterwauling.
"Loooooooooooooove is a many-spleeeeendored thiiiiiiiing..."
"Shut up," growled Fett.
"Love lifts us up where we belong... All you need is love..."
"What are you wailing about?"
"Oh come off it! You got the hots for Liz, don't ya?"
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not -- is it really that obvious?"
Cody grinned in mischievous triumph. "It always works out like that in the movies -- the more a guy and a girl hate each other, the more likely it is that they'll eventually fall in love."
"'Love' is too strong a word," Fett defended. "My father warned me off women, and I've avoided females for too long to make a sudden change now. But I must admit, she's a fiery one."
"Gets it from her mixed bloodlines."
"Mixed bloodlines?"
"Sure. Lots of people here in the U.S. have blended ethnicities, but hers is an odd combo even for an American. Her mother's mother was Japanese, her mother's father was Native American, her father's mother was Jamaican, and her father's father was Romanian Jew. I like to think that her genes are so mixed up that they make her cranky all the time, but that's just my opinion."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Cody."
"Forget it. Just take it from me -- she's not one to be trifled with. Many a boy has tried to slay the dragon of her heart and lost the battle."
He shrugged. "Perhaps they haven't used the right weapon. Any suggestions for this warrior?"
"I dunno. Try fortitude."
"Fortitude?"
"Yup. If you can get your foot in the door, don't give an inch. I've seen her use some pretty harsh pesticides against ex-boyfriends who wouldn't take a hint and go away. I think the bug who gets her will be the bug who keeps coming back for more."
Fett nodded slowly, chewing over this information. "Fortitude."
"Good luck, Romeo," Cody grinned. "You're gonna need it."