Chapter 5: Starting School

The Emperor was pleased to hear of their victory over the Jadis Cluster insurgency. It was doubly fortunate, because Vader felt the need to prove nothing had changed after the disagreement over Luke. During his reports, the subject of his son wasn't raised, and Vader was careful to avoid thinking of it entirely. It was in the boy's best interests to remain beneath the Emperor's notice.

If there was one thing Luke was showing an aptitude for, it was remaining invisible. He had made himself scarce for the last few days, after their conversation over his schooling, and so Vader was surprised to find him working at a terminal when he entered the conference room near his quarters.

He considered asking him what he was doing, but soon decided to leave him be. He was due at the detention center himself, and didn't have time for idle conversation. He needed to review the information he had obtained from the spy earlier. Sometimes a prisoner would say one seemingly insignificant thing during one session, which would later prove vitally important.

He connected a datapad to the main terminal and began to download the relevant files. He glanced over momentarily, to find Luke was staring at him. Their eyes met briefly, and then the boy looked away, returning to his work.

"What are you doing?" Vader asked, deciding a few minutes delay couldn't hurt.

"Just working on something for school," Luke mumbled.

"I thought you were not starting school for another two days."

Luke looked back, clearly surprised. "How did you know?"

"The principal contacted an assistant this morning."

"What did she say?"

"First she wanted to inform me of a special assembly, attended by all students and interested parents, in order to welcome you to the school. Then she asked if you would require any special security arrangements."

"Oh, stars!" Luke let his head fall onto the table.

"I have informed the school you will not require any security arrangements ... except one."

Luke popped back up, curious. "What?"

"Under no circumstances is any attention to be drawn to your arrival. Only staff directly involved with teaching you are to be informed of our relationship."

"Thank you!" Luke said, jumping to his feet. "That's perfect!"

As if becoming aware he was overreacting, Luke hastily sat down again. "They asked me for information about what I learned at the Anchorhead school," Luke said, resuming his work. "So I'm just typing up a description of the classes we had on Tatooine. They're probably going to laugh at our desert survival classes, but I learned more there than in Hutt history, that's for sure."

Vader stepped closer to read over Luke's shoulder, somewhat curious. There were so many things he didn't know about his son. In all truth, he probably knew more about the life of this spy he was interrogating. It was a sobering thought.

"I am going to the detention centre," Vader said, picking up the datapad. "I should be back in a few hours. When I return, we should have a conversation. I would like to know more about your life on Tatooine."

"Really?" Luke said, looking up in surprise. "I mean ... sure!"

Vader considered telling the boy that 'yes, sir' would have been a more appropriate response, but he doubted Luke would take it to heart. The boy must have been living on Coruscant for weeks now, yet still acted like he'd just come in from dusting the crops. Hopefully he'd learn some more appropriate patterns of speech at this school, if nothing else.

"So," Vader said, once his prisoner was under the effects of the drugs. He had made sure to give a milder dose, this time. "We were discussing your son."

"Son ..."

"Yes," Vader said, "Tell me about him."

The spy was agitated now. "Where is ... he? What ... son!"

"He will be safe if you tell me what you did with the information," Vader said.

There was no response, so Vader entered the man's mind, seeking a way around his mental conditioning. The Rebels were getting better at training their agents to resist mind probes, but he was getting better at doing them.

"No!"

Vader could see an image of the boy now ... he was young, younger than Luke. He had his arms outstretched, and was laughing over something.

"I can have your son in custody within a few hours," Vader suggested. "Perhaps he might know what you did with the information."

The man cried out, and launched himself towards him in anger. Vader didn't bother to move out of the way—the binders that held the prisoner's wrists were designed to prevent such an action. They sparked and gave the man a shock, which caused him to slump back against the wall.

"Monster!" he moaned.

"As will you be, if you allow yourself to be responsible for your son's suffering. He will suffer as you have suffered, if you don't tell me what I wish to know. Perhaps he might even die."

"The Spectrum!"

Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"What is the spectrum?"

"No!"

Vader prepared to use the Force to reenter the man's mind, but he began to talk once again.

"Transmitted ... to the Spectrum! Agents on board."

"The Spectrum is a ship?" Vader said.

"Yes!"

Vader glanced at the chrono in surprise. He'd broken the spy in ten minutes. Either this wasn't the best Alderaan had to offer, or the man really loved his son. Parenthood appeared to be a weakness that could readily be exploited. He would have to ensure he would never become so weak in regards to Luke.

Meanwhile, he had a ship to find.

Luke had initially waited for Vader's return, excited at the thought of getting some attention out of him. That emotion had soon faded, when darkness had fallen and there was still no sign of his father. It was becoming clear to him that his father never stopped working. Maybe it was the result of his artificial body replacements, but to Luke it seemed his father acted more like a machine than a person. Yet even droids powered down sometimes.

Just as he was deciding it was about time to turn in for the night, he sensed a familiar presence outside in the corridor. Eagerly, he jumped up and went to investigate. As he had suspected, his father had finally come home. He was walking quickly towards his meditation room though.

Luke mumbled a greeting, but Vader appeared not to notice him. A short while later, he returned from his room, now carrying a datapad, and started to walk back towards the elevator. On the way, he paused, and turned to face Luke.

"I should return in one to three weeks. I will be available by comlink if you have any serious problems at school. If there is a minor problem, direct it towards the droid or an assistant."

"You're leaving again?" Luke said, surprised. "You just got back!"

"I obtained valuable information, which I need to act on immediately. I also need to return to Mustafar."

He walked on, and Luke rubbed his head, feeling strangely abandoned. He had hoped he would be here when he started school. It made little sense, really, because it wasn't as if Vader was going to hold his hand and drop him off at the classroom door. Not that he'd even want him too. But just the thought of him being here had been a little comforting.

"Goodbye," he called, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. He didn't think Vader would appreciate it.

On the morning of his first day at school, Luke woke early, unable to sleep any longer due to the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. There were so many questions buzzing around his head. Would the students be friendly? Would he be able to understand the work? Would they treat him differently because of his father?

Luke had wanted to walk to school, now that he had a newly upgraded permanent security pass, but Lev had insisted on taking him in a speeder. As he sat in the passenger seat, he found himself fidgeting nervously with his clothing.

"This uniform is so ... formal," Luke said. "I feel stupid. On Tatooine we never had to wear uniforms. Some kids didn't even bother with shoes."

"You look good," Lev said.

Luke suspected his opinion was somewhat biased. He'd never seen Lev out of his uniform. He probably even slept in it. "Can you let me off down there?" Luke asked, pointing out the window.

"I'm letting you off at the school, Luke, not a block away from it."

"But people will see this speeder and know I'm related to someone who works for the Empire." Luke had come to notice that the black speeders with white Imperial logos were only used by government officials.

"Luke, I doubt there's a student at this school who isn't related to someone powerful. You'll fit right in."

Luke wasn't so sure. But he kept quiet—if he acted too worried, Lev would insist on coming in with him. That had to be avoided at all costs.

As they flew over the school, Luke saw it was built on a platform over the top of another high-rise, in a style typical of Coruscant's crammed architecture. It was surrounded by artificial lawns and gardens, shielded from the outside world in huge transparent domes. Lev set down on a spacious landing pad on the west side of the building.

"Now, you know where to go, don't you?" he asked.

"To the reception desk," Luke repeated. He had already heard this many times this morning.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?"

Luke simply stared at Lev, until he raised his hands in defeat.

"Yes, I know, you're twelve years old and can already pilot a speeder. Starting a new school is nothing. You're not even nervous. In fact, I'm more nervous than you."

"Thank you," Luke said, unbuckling his seat restraints. "I'll see you later."

"Have fun," Lev called, as he stepped out onto the landing pad. "Don't hesitate to contact me if anything goes wrong."

Luke folded his arms and waited pointedly for Lev to take off. He didn't trust him not to wait around spying on him. Seeing his intentions, he waved goodbye, and Luke watched until the speeder had disappeared completely into Coruscant's busy skies.

He turned and walked towards the doors, which were decorated with the crest also present on the shoulders of his uniform. It was the Imperial logo, framed by the open pages of an old-fashioned book. The images of two royal guards stood facing each other, crossing their pikes above the words, 'Dedication. Loyalty. Service. All Glory to the Emperor!'.

He guessed that was the school motto. His father would probably approve, but it made him hope he was going to learn something else besides dedication and loyalty to the Emperor.

The corridors were much the same, lined with conspicuous signs of the Empire's presence. There were statues of the Emperor, plaques bearing the words of the Emperor, framed copies of the Imperial constitution ... even the drinking fountain was emblazoned with the Imperial logo. When he came to a halt at the reception desk, he was gazing around feeling somewhat overwhelmed.

He looked forward at the sound of voices and saw a student was already conversing with the receptionist droid. Or perhaps arguing was a better word.

"I'm telling you, it's real!"

"This signature is only a seventy percent match with the one we have on file."

"His hand probably slipped while he was doing it!"

"Why doesn't your father, who according to your record is a bank governor, know how to spell the word 'express'?"

"Call him up and ask him! Stars, can you please stop acting like the droid from hell and just accept it?!"

"Come back when you have a real permission slip," the droid said, handing the student's datapad back.

The student stormed off in a huff, and Luke stepped back to prevent being pushed aside. Luke's eyes wandered back to the droid, who was a shiny red modified protocol model.

"Who are you?" he said, with a slightly bored edge to his electronic voice. "I have never seen you before."

"Um ... I'm new," Luke said, stepping forward.

"Shouldn't you have been in class five minutes ago, New? You are late. Please do not give me a note you wrote yourself on the way here. And do not offer an excuse before consulting the list." The droid pointed to a poster taped on the front of the desk, which was headed, 'Excuses B-60 is tired of hearing'. The first two were 'I slept in' and 'the air traffic was bad'. Luke didn't bother to read any further.

He cleared his throat. "No, I mean I'm new."

"We have already established your name."

"New!" Luke insisted. "As in ... I've never been here before. This is my first day. I don't know where I'm supposed to go."

"I could tell you if you would tell me your real name, instead of this 'new' business."

Luke frowned, feeling his temper begin to wear thin. "Luke Skywalker," he said, through a slightly clenched jaw.

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. The principal wanted to meet you. She had to leave for a meeting a moment ago, though, so I'll take you to your class instead."

"Thank you," Luke sighed.

The droid printed out a hardcopy of what appeared to be a timetable. When he turned around to lead him out of the reception area, Luke noticed there was a 'kick me' sign taped to his back. He stifled a laugh, glad that there was something familiar about this school. Some jokes never got old.

As they walked down the corridors, Luke quickly tried to keep track of where they were going. It would be embarrassing to get lost on his first day. Every so often, they would pass a classroom door, and Luke stared inside, curious. They all contained rows and rows of terminals. On Tatooine, their school could barely afford to maintain their three and a half outdated computers.

"This is so advanced," Luke mumbled, half talking to himself.

"So why haven't they replaced me, you wonder?" B-60 said, leading him down a flight of stairs. "I wonder myself."

"I didn't mean it like that," Luke said, wondering if this droid was made like that, or if some of the students had tinkered with his personality circuits.

The droid came to a halt beside a set of double doors, and pressed the release to open them. Inside was a small foyer, past which Luke could see an expansive gymnasium. The students were spread around doing various activities, and no one noticed as Luke and the droid approached the teacher.

"This is Luke Skywalker," B-60 said, in a tone that hinted he was inflicting something unpleasant on the teacher. "He is joining your class this morning."

"How nice of you to show him here, B-60," the teacher said, with a smile and a slightly raised eyebrow. She was young, and had friendly brown eyes.

"My programming forced me to do it," B-60 insisted. "Here is his timetable for the rest of the day. You might want to explain it to him."

"I'll do that," she said, accepting the hardcopy.

Without another word, to Luke's relief, the droid turned and left. Luke looked up at the teacher, noticing she was wearing a tunic covered with the logo of some Coruscant sports team.

"So," she said, passing the timetable to him, "I hear your father is the man in black himself."

It was still strange, to hear people say it out loud like that. He'd become so used to thinking of himself as an orphan.

"Yes," he mumbled.

She studied Luke for a moment, while wrapping a finger around the end of her ponytail.

"Do you have any kind of title I should know about? A form of address you prefer?"

Luke felt his face turning slightly red. "I'm just Luke," he said, quickly.

"And you can call me Miss Lee. It's a pleasure to have you in my class Luke. I'm sure you'll settle down fine and make some friends before you know it."

Luke stared at the students, some of whom had begun to notice his arrival. There were both boys and girls, and they were all around his age. On Tatooine, there were so few students, you didn't have much of a choice about who you made friends with. That wasn't the case here, as was clear from the small groups the students had gathered themselves into.

"It's only fifteen minutes before the end of class," Lee continued, "So there's not much point joining in. Maybe you'd just like to watch for a while."

Luke was relieved. He stood by the wall, observing everyone quietly. Eventually Miss Lee blew a whistle, and everyone gathered in a rough semi-circle around her. By this time, he was getting many curious stares. He folded his arms, trying to look as normal as possible.

"Class, I'd like everyone to welcome Luke Skywalker," Miss Lee said, waving a hand in Luke's direction. "He's new today, so please make a special effort to welcome him."

Some students began to whisper, and Luke felt suddenly shy. They had all probably lived on Coruscant their entire lives.

A tone sounded over the comm system, causing all the students to start filing out the door. Luke nervously joined the end of the group, trying to ignore the odd person who would turn back and stare at him. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

Vader found his thoughts wandering to the subject of his son, as he stared out the shuttle viewing port. They were about to dock with the Star Destroyer Arena, which, if the captain had performed his mission competently, there should be a detention center of Rebel prisoners awaiting his collection.

The Spectrum had turned out to be an Alderaanian pleasure cruiser, and as it so happened, its flight path had been due to coincide with that of the Star Destroyer Arena about two hours ago. He had intended to be here for the boarding, but delays in hyperspace meant he was only now arriving. He could only hope the captain had done his job properly. For as much his sake, as the sake of the Empire.

But his thoughts kept returning to his son, far away on Coruscant. The boy would be starting school today, if his adjustments for the time differences were accurate. It would be difficult for him to enter a new social environment. He was no doubt feeling much as he had felt all those years ago, when he began to attend classes at the Jedi temple.

The boarding ramp began to descend, and Vader shifted away from the viewing window. He was thinking about his past life again, which could only lead to weakness. Now was the time to concentrate on the mission.

As he stepped onto the deck of the Arena's docking bay, the captain and his first officer saluted him.

"It is a profound honor to welcome you on board the Arena, Lord Vader. I am Captain Koonter. This is my first officer, Commander Dul."

Vader studied the men. The captain appeared slightly nervous, but the first officer was relaxed. It was a fair guess the mission hadn't been a dismal failure, or they would likely be begging his forgiveness by now.

"How did your boarding operation proceed, Captain Koonter?"

"Excellent, my lord. We found six possible Rebel traitors hiding among the Spectrum's civilian passengers, and we have recovered all the stolen information."

He had expected more, but six was better than nothing. The captain was waiting for adulation, but Vader did not oblige. "And where is the cruiser now?"

"The crew co-operated with us completely, my lord. We didn't see any reason to hold them any longer. The Spectrum jumped into hyperspace ten minutes ago."

"You should have held them until I arrived," Vader said, annoyed. "What made you think you had located all the Rebels on the ship?"

The captain turned nervously to the first officer, who immediately obliged.

"Sir, we took the cruiser completely by surprise. Our troops thoroughly searched every person and every room on the ship. If we held the ship any longer, we could have faced legal action from the Alderaan government."

The officer had a point. In all fairness, by letting the ship go, they had probably saved the legal division from a very large headache.

"Very well," Vader said, "I will inspect the prisoners, and then have them transferred to my ship."

"Yes, my lord."

Vader paused for a moment, studying the captain. He was no more nervous than any other captain he usually spoke to, but he had an odd feeling, as if something was amiss. Perhaps there was more to this situation than he realized.

Or perhaps the constant thinking about Luke was skewing his Force sense.

No one had said anything to Luke all morning, and he was starting to wonder if he was going to be friendless for the rest of the year. He had just sat through a mathematics class, of which he'd understood very little. It would probably have helped if he'd actually paid attention, instead of staring out the window, but old habits were hard to break.

When the signal sounded for lunchtime, Luke breathed out a sigh of relief. He was more than hungry, and he didn't want to have to stare at another equation ever again. Beside him, a black-haired boy began to close down his computer, and Luke watched what he did in order to copy. His name was Ben Jarnet, according to his logout screen. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Luke couldn't quite place it. Perhaps he should take a risk and talk to him.

"Um, can I eat lunch with you? Is that all right?" Luke said, in a rush.

The boy looked up, surprised. "With me? Um ... that might not be a good idea."

Luke was embarrassed. "Okay ... if you've got your own friends, I understand," he said.

"No, it's not that—"

They were interrupted by a prissy looking blonde girl.

"Skywalker?" she said, in the clearest upper-class Coruscant accent Luke had yet heard, "Interesting surname there. I'm Ophelia Halifax. Daughter of Grand Moff Halifax. How about you?"

"Uh ... " Luke said. "I'm Luke Skywalker."

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, who are your parents?"

A small crowd had gathered, waiting for his answer. Luke realized none of them knew who his father was. He looked around the expectant faces, wondering what to say.

"I reckon he's a charity case," a boy said, also with a strong Coruscant accent. "He talks like a charity case."

"Is that true?" Ophelia asked.

Luke nodded quickly, which seemed to satisfy the crowd. Some of them laughed as they walked away.

"Looks like you found a friend," Ophelia said, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder as she left.

It took Luke a moment to realize she'd directed the comment to the boy beside him. Ben quickly gathered up his things, and motioned for Luke to follow.

"What was that about?" Luke asked, pushing back his chair.

They walked out into the corridor, and Ben began to explain. "At this school, the only thing that matters is your parent's occupation."

"Oh," Luke said, not entirely understanding.

"They call our kind 'charity cases'. People who got in on a scholarship or high grades, instead of connections."

Luke was starting to regret agreeing to the term so readily back there. If people expected him to be some kind of genius, they'd be in for a disappointment. It was a little too late to go back on it, though.

"You only associate with people of your own station around here," Ben continued, gesturing at various groups as they approached the cafeteria, "All the senator's sons and daughters hang out together, and all the business leader's children form their own clique. The hierarchy is ruthlessly enforced."

"What's the highest level?" Luke asked, becoming worried.

"Them," Ben indicated a small group of people sitting at a lunch table. Luke recognized Ophelia among them.

"They are the children of the Imperial regional governors. The Moffs and Grand Moffs. Don't cross them, for any reason," Ben warned. "Their parents can make your entire family disappear from the universe, with just a flick of their finger."

Ben picked up a tray, and handed it to Luke. After collecting food, Luke followed him to a secluded corner of the lunchroom.

"Thanks for explaining," Luke said, between hungry bites. "My old school, back on Tatooine, was nothing like this."

"It's okay," Ben said. "I was in your position a year ago. I had to figure it all out myself. Just lay low. You don't want to offend anyone around here."

Luke nodded. He took another bite, and gazed around at all the students. The group Ben had described as the senator's sons and daughters were laughing loudly over a picture in a newsfax. Just as he was about to turn his attention back to his lunch, his eye fell on a boy sitting in the middle of that particular table. Luke froze.

"Chilee Lerrod?" he mumbled.

"Especially him," Ben agreed. "He's deranged. I swear he's going to be signed up as a stormtrooper when he leaves school. Have you met him already?"

"I ... unfortunately," Luke said, deciding not to elaborate. Inside, he felt sick. He thought he'd never have to see him again, and now here he was, attending the same school as him. It was only a matter of time before Chilee caught sight of him. Perhaps that military boarding school hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

"So how long have you lived on Coruscant?" Ben asked, "I was born here."

"Just a few weeks," Luke said, glad of a subject change, "I used to live in the Outer Rim. My aunt and uncle owned a moisture farm on a desert world."

"Then they decided to move here?"

"No," Luke said, feeling sad. He didn't want to embarrass Ben, though, so he didn't spell out the specifics. "I moved here to ... to live with my father."

"Just your father?" Ben asked, sounding interested. "No mother?"

"She died," Luke said, quietly.

"I'm sorry. I only asked, because, well ... my mother isn't around either. I don't remember her, though I wish I did."

"I never knew my mother either," Luke said. "I want to ask my father about her, but ... we haven't known each other very long, and it's hard to talk to him."

"Sometimes you just have to know the right time," Ben said. "Or you have to find the right opening."

Luke nodded. Although he doubted Ben would have any advice that would work with Vader. Explaining this was absolutely out of the question, though. If Ben even suspected his father was important, he'd likely be too scared to talk to him again. Considering his other options for friends, Luke knew he was going to keep his parentage a secret for as long as humanly possible.

"What does your father do?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.

"He's a guard for the Emperor." Ben gestured at the images of the red-robed royal guards on the school crest printed under the glass surface of the lunch table. "One of them."

Luke was just about to say that he had met a royal guard once, and now saw them regularly at the palace, but common sense kicked in just in time. Normal people didn't just go around meeting the Emperor's guards.

"I can't believe people won't talk to you because your father is a royal guard," Luke said. "I think that's an amazing job. He probably sees a lot more of the Emperor than their parents ever do."

"Oh yeah," Ben said, taking a bite from a piece of fruit. "He's one of the senior guards, too—captain of his squad. But they—" he gestured to the rest of the lunchroom, "—only care about power. Unless your parents regularly make the news, they don't even want to know you."

A connection was starting to form in Luke's mind. His guard friend had been a captain ... Captain Jarnet. He had a funny feeling that was Ben's surname, too, although he'd only had a brief look at his monitor. Ben had the same brown skin tone and black hair that Captain Jarnet did too. He wished he could ask him if he was his son, but there was little point—he couldn't tell him he knew his father.

Luke rested his head on his hand, feeling his life quickly becoming even more complicated than usual.

Droids. The captain had told him they had taken six Rebels prisoners on the Spectrum. Yet he had neglected to mention that two of them were droids. He was lucky he had withdrawn to his bridge.

"Unfortunately they were damaged in a fight," Commander Dul explained, "But we've downloaded their memories and our techs are sifting through the data right now. We should have complete reports within a few hours."

Vader turned to him, wondering if he realized just how underwhelming this information was. The man was very self-assured, and he spoke in a vaguely self-congratulatory tone.

"What led you to believe these droids were in use by the Rebellion?" he enquired.

"They were found in a known Rebels' quarters. An initial interrogation revealed these two droids were on brief loan from the Tantive IV, a ship registered to the royal family of Alderaan. Even if they do not have information on the Rebellion, they could be stripped for intelligence data."

"Very well," Vader said. "Have them transferred to my ship."

He doubted the droids contained anything more than instructions on serving drinks, but it could never hurt to try. He was about to walk on, when he took one last look at the droids. Little more than blackened shells remained ... the protocol droid had taken a shot to the chest.

The shorter astromech looked in better shape, but it was fitted with a restraining bolt and currently powered down. Both droids looked vaguely familiar, somehow. They almost reminded him of a certain pair of droids that—

Quickly, he stepped forward, and pulled off the protocol droid's head. Spinning it around, he lifted the access panel to read the serial number. As he suspected—C-3PO.

He shouldn't be surprised. What, with Obi-Wan turning up one minute, and his long lost son the next, this was obviously his month for having his past dredged up and tossed in his face.

"Is everything satisfactory, sir?" Commander Dul asked.

"Have the prisoners transferred to my ship immediately," he said, walking away. "I will be leaving as soon as possible."