Chapter 7: Dueling Droids
"Could my life get any worse?" Luke mumbled, as he peered around the corner of an emperor statue.
Chilee was still loitering around the exit to the landing pad. There were other exits to the school, of course, but he was still holding onto the hope that Chilee and his friends would move. Leaving through another exit would mean a long walk around to get him back on a path towards the Imperial Palace.
It was hard to say what they were doing ... Chilee kept looking back as if he was waiting for someone. If Chilee was anything like the schoolyard bullies he remembered from Tatooine, he was probably waiting for an innocent young student to beat up.
Luke decided not to risk being the victim today. Besides, taking the longer route meant he could stop by the snack machine and buy himself some junk to eat on the way home. Despite his moody silence, Vader had come through on his promise to pay him an allowance, and he now had his own Coruscant bank account. Credit cards linked to his father's account may be out of the question, but he had all he needed.
The wide range of enticing snacks left him dawdling in front of the machine for a good five minutes. It would have been longer, if he hadn't been interrupted by a vaguely familiar voice behind him.
"Luke?"
Luke started as he turned around, fearing it was Chilee. But no—this person was definitely a friend.
"Captain Jarnet!" Luke said, surprised. He'd never seen the man out of his red uniform before.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Luke. I was hoping Ben was going to invite you over one of these days."
"He's told you about me?" Luke said, surprised.
"Yes—although it took me a moment to realize his new 'charity case' classmate, was in fact the same Luke I had met in the halls of the Imperial Palace."
There was laughter in his voice, but Luke was fearful of anyone over hearing. Luckily, the corridors were long deserted—classes had ended a good fifteen minutes ago.
"You didn't ... say anything to Ben, did you?" Luke asked.
"No—it was clear you were keeping certain details about your parentage under wraps. I understand completely."
"You know about my father?" Luke said, rubbing his head. "Of course you do. You must have seen me at the palace."
He nodded. "There's a saying at the palace. You may have heard it. 'The guards know everything'."
"Please don't tell anyone," Luke said. "It's hard enough trying to fit in around here without ..."
"I know," he said, nodding in understanding. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Thank you," Luke said, sighing in relief. It was good to know he no longer had to make excuses whenever Ben invited him over to play hologames. The only problem now was the issue of returning the favor.
"Speaking of my son," Ben's father continued. "You haven't seen him, perchance? I promised him I'd pick him up from school and we'd go and see a holomovie."
"Oh," Luke said, slapping his head at his oversight. He'd been so mixed up in his own dramas, he hadn't thought to say anything. "He was kept in after our last class. I'll show you to the classroom, if you'd like."
"That would be perfect, thank you," he said, following as Luke beckoned. "I'll just wait outside until he is released."
"You should go in and argue with the teacher about it," Luke suggested. "He was blamed for something the student behind him did. I tried to argue, but he wouldn't let me."
Captain Jarnet glanced down at him. "Was the student behind him the son or daughter of someone with power and influence?"
"Something like that," Luke said. "But that shouldn't make a difference!"
"Unfortunately, it does, my young friend." They had reached the classroom, and he rested on a row of chairs outside. "Ben is a scholarship student—one of the few at this school. Part of that is accepting these little injustices."
It didn't sound right to Luke, but he couldn't find the words to argue. The hierarchy of power around here was so oppressive, even words were crushed under it. He settled for sighing and flopping down on the chairs. He might as well keep his friend's father company while he waited—it wasn't as if he had anything to go home for. Just a father who wasn't speaking to him.
"So are you settling in okay? How are you getting on with your father, if I may ask?"
Luke glanced at him in surprise, wondering if they trained royal guards to read minds.
"We're nothing alike," he said, finally. He couldn't think of anything else he'd feel comfortable sharing. The thought of admitting to another person that his own father couldn't bring himself to speak to him was just too embarrassing.
"Funny, Ben says the same thing about me."
The classroom doors opened at that point, and Ben was clearly surprised to see Luke with his father.
"Dad! What are you doing here?"
Luke watched curiously as his friend's father stood up and grabbed his son in a headlock.
"Oh, just hanging out and talking to your friend about how you still like to sleep with that plush Wookiee toy."
"I told you to wait on the landing pad!"
He began to knuckle Ben's head, and Ben pushed him away, grinning, yet turning slightly red with embarrassment.
"Dad!"
"Lucky I happened to run into Luke, here," he continued. "Or I might have worried myself sick, wondering if you'd been kidnapped by some pirates."
"I guess I forgot about the movie," Ben admitted. "Besides, Dad, have you ever seen any pirates around here? Imperial City is the last place you'd find any pirates. Hey, Luke, do you want to come? We're going to see Black Hole World."
Both of them turned, expectantly.
Luke looked away. "I better get home," he said, shortly. "My father will be wondering where I am."
It was a lie, of course—more likely his father was busy at the military headquarters and couldn't care less where he was. But he wanted to say something—anything—to provide a defense in his own mind against the love and warmth between Ben and his father. More than anything, it served to show Luke just what his own relationship with his father was lacking.
Ben's father looked like he was about to apologize for keeping him, but Luke simply waved, and ran off quickly in the other direction. Chilee or no Chilee, he was taking the other exit.
Vader cut his speeder's engine as he flew into the ship hangar, attempting to see if he could coast into a parking space using nothing but the brake and a touch of the Force. He had just arrived back from a meeting with a senior engineer at Sienar's Coruscant offices, which had put him in the mood for working on his own modification projects. But there was a pile of reports waiting for him to read, and his dueling practice had fallen by the wayside, as of late. He had to get his priorities in order.
As he climbed out of the speeder and walked towards the elevator bay, he became aware of a repetitive clanging sound coming from one of the tech rooms. It didn't sound constructive, whatever it was. Curiosity got the better of him, and he moved over to investigate.
Inside, Luke was sitting at a workbench, banging a sheet of metal with a hydrospanner. It was clasped at one end, but Luke's repeated pounding was causing it to bend into an odd shape. His son was resting with his chin on his hand, and a glazed expression on his face. Overall, it gave the impression of some eccentric artist, obsessing over his latest abstraction.
Vader wondered if this was what the doctor had referred to when he mentioned Luke was showing signs of psychological stress. Perhaps he should make the effort to give the boy more attention—he was becoming withdrawn, and, to be blunt—weird.
"That is not regulation use of a hydrospanner," Vader said.
Luke jumped at the sound, indicating he was unaware of his presence. Strange. Even if he hadn't sensed his arrival, he should have heard the breathing. He immediately stopped the banging and dropped the hydrospanner on the table.
"Sorry," Luke mumbled.
Vader stepped further into the room, and noticed Threepio and Artoo resting in a powered-down state in the corner. A funny feeling welled up inside him as he observed the extra care Luke had taken over polishing up their outer shells. Artoo Detoo looked fresh from the assembly line, and Threepio would have fit in easily among the pool of protocol droids showing guests around the palace. A far cry from the burned out, mangled droids the stormtroopers had dragged off the Spectrum.
It was hard to place exactly what he was feeling. A sense of nostalgia at having the droids back in his possession, after all these years? Hardly—many of the memories he associated with these droids were visions of a past life he would rather forget. It was more related to the exceptional job his son had performed on the maintenance and repair. An entire team of professionals could hardly have done better.
He glanced back at Luke, about to compliment him on the job, but the sight of him stopped him short. The boy was resting with his head on the bench, looking not unlike a deflated balloon.
"Is something wrong?" he enquired.
Luke shook his head, quickly. Vader was about to leave, when the boy suddenly spoke up.
"I thought you weren't speaking to me."
"Why would I not be speaking to you?"
Luke shrugged. "I just thought ... after last time. Oh, don't worry."
Vader stared at Luke, wondering if he should have the boy analyzed by a psychiatrist. Did he honestly imagine he had nothing better to do than hold petty grudges against him? It was true they had not parted on the best of terms, but he had not given it any more thought after the initial anger had worn off. Luke was too insecure. It was time he did something about it.
"I am about to go for a lightsaber practice session," Vader said. "I fight against droid opponents. Perhaps you would like to watch."
Luke looked up, a spark back in his eyes. "You mean it?!"
"I would not have suggested it unless I had meant it."
"Meet you there!" Luke yelled, already half out the door. He returned a moment later, and said, "Which floor? I'm still finding my way around."
Vader gestured for him to follow, idly thinking that Luke could go from zero to "over-charged mouse droid" in three seconds.
The dueling droid stepped up to face him, and Vader circled, never letting his gaze leave the deadly machine. It wielded not one, but two lightsabers. Without warning, the droid lunged. Vader met the attack easily, and flicked his lightsaber upwards to deflect the other blade.
The Force was surging through him, heightening his senses, and giving him the power to easily defeat any mechanical opponent that should attack him. This assurance caused him to regret the fact that he no longer had any real opponents to duel with. He doubted the Emperor would allow him to go to the trouble of training new Force users, purely for the purpose of his dueling practice.
This sparring session had been going on for a while, and Vader wished to bring it to an end quickly. He fooled the droid with a couple of feints, and casually sliced off its head. The body stumbled around for a while, and then fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
Luke was still watching from the observation balcony, which ran around the top half of the room. The boy's eyes were as round as Tatooine's suns. He was clearly itching to get closer, but Vader was conscious of the lateness of the hour. He still had those Arena ship logs to review.
Still, perhaps they could wait. If his son was to be a Sith one day, he may as well get used to the weapon, even if he could not be properly trained in its use.
"Perhaps you would like to join me," Vader suggested, returning his gaze to his son.
Vader didn't think it was possible for a twelve year old to move so fast. Luke sprinted around the edge and slid down the banister of the circular stairwell, before skidding up in front of him.
"Can I choose one?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Vader walked over to the lightsaber cabinet at the side of the room, with Luke hot on his trail.
"That one looks pretty good," Luke said, pointing through the glass. "No wait, I want this one!"
Vader lifted the lid and picked out a training saber.
"You may try this," he said, handing it to Luke. "It is designed for those new to the discipline of the lightsaber. The blade will only sting, not cut."
Luke appeared disappointed. He held it up and peered into the blade end, almost causing Vader to flinch.
"Never hold a lightsaber like that," he said, quickly adjusting Luke's hands. "The blade end must always be pointed outwards and away from you."
Luke turned it back the right way and began looking for the on switch.
"Now what? How do you turn it on?"
"Press the button. Carefully."
Luke broke into a wide grin as the glowing blade of light sprang to life in front of him. He waved it back and forth and around in circles.
"This is awesome!"
"The lightsaber is a weapon of honor," Vader stated. "It is not a toy."
Luke was busy assuming warrior-like poses and appeared not to be listening.
"So can a lightsaber cut through anything?"
"Yes. Apart from another blade."
"Can you teach me how to fight with it?"
Vader resisted the urge to sigh. He would like nothing more than to teach Luke how to duel, and a whole lot more. However, he also wished to preserve his son's life. Explaining that would be another matter.
"I have work to do," Vader tried.
"Awww, come on!" Luke whined. He playfully brought his blade around, pointing it at Vader.
"Two hands, Luke."
Despite himself, Vader moved around beside Luke and demonstrated the correct grip.
"And keep your wrists firm. Do not let the blade slip or you could injure yourself."
Vader ignited his own saber, and held it beside Luke's blade.
Luke swung the sword gently towards him, and Vader met the attack easily. A satisfying clash, coupled with a shower of sparks, filled the air. Luke quickly took another swing. Vader took a step backwards to avoid the blade, and brought his saber around underneath. It felt more than a little silly, play fighting like this, but Vader could feel Luke's uninhibited pleasure than he was allowing him to do so. The boy seemed to enjoy his company, although he had no idea why.
Despite Luke's complete lack of training, he was holding himself with surprising grace. It was clear he was a natural. The mere experience was causing him to send ripples into the Force, generated purely by his strong emotion.
Ripples he hoped were not reaching the Emperor. Becoming worried, Vader brought his blade around and flicked the saber out of Luke's grip. It spun into the air, and he then used the Force to bring it to his waiting hand.
"Hey, no fair!" Luke complained.
"I have somewhere else to be," Vader said, firmly. He turned towards the exit, leaving the training saber on a nearby ledge. At the exit, he waited pointedly for Luke to leave first, aware of the longing way in which his son was staring at the dueling droids. "Hurry up."
Luke shuffled forward. When he was finally in the corridor, Vader made sure to seal and lock the doors.
"Can you teach me some more later?" Luke asked, ever hopeful.
"As I said, I have work to do," Vader said. He walked slowly, however, in order to allow Luke to keep up with him. He was pleased the boy was interested, but he couldn't allow him to expect to be trained.
"You're always working," Luke mumbled, as they entered an elevator.
"Running an Empire does tend to take a fair amount of time."
"Don't you ever get days off?" Luke asked, curiously.
"The Rebellion does not rest, so neither do I."
"Well, if you ever do get a day off ... can you teach me some more fencing then?"
Vader glanced at Luke, wondering if it had been a mistake to let him handle a lightsaber at all.
"You are too young."
It wasn't entirely true, but the real truth was nothing he wished to burden Luke with.
"I'll be a teenager soon!" Luke protested. "Please?!"
The elevator doors had opened at this point, but his son waited for an answer. Vader didn't know why he was bothering to give him one.
"When you are older, we will visit this issue again. Right now, you are a child whose sole purpose is to learn and mature until you are an adult. Understood?"
Luke nodded, looking down.
"You should go to bed," Vader said, gesturing down the hallway. Luke took the hint and trotted off in the direction of his bedroom. At least he was occasionally obedient. Vader watched until he reached the door at the other end, which took longer than necessary, as the boy paused now and then to wave an imaginary lightsaber around.
It was difficult to believe he could ever have been that young or that innocent.
Vader stared after him for a moment longer, and then pressed the elevator button for the hangar bay floor. There was another task he needed to complete before seeing to the needs of the Empire.
The droids were still resting in the recharging bays when he returned to the tech room. It only took a slight nudge with the Force to wake Artoo, and his startled beeping caused Threepio to wake as well.
"Oh, my!" Threepio said, raising his hands and attempting to reverse back against the wall. "You must be Master Luke's father."
Artoo rolled forward before he could reply, beeping rapidly. Vader understood none of it, until he saw the droid had his bio-scanner extended. Then immediate recognition, followed by both curious and happy chirps. This one's memory was still intact, it seemed.
"No. That is no longer my name," Vader said, pointing at the droid. "Your former master is dead."
Artoo whistled in confusion, until Threepio interrupted.
"No, you broken circuit! Master Luke told us his name. Lord Vader."
"Yes," Vader confirmed. "You will address me as such. Now, you will both listen. I have an important task for you." He gestured to the RA-7 protocol droid in the corner. "That droid was assigned to look after Luke. It failed. Now I will have it scrapped for spare parts."
Threepio started in shock, while Artoo made a rude noise.
"I know you are both capable droids and will not be so easily defeated by a twelve year old child. Do not fail me. I suggest you start by not making it obvious what I have asked you to do, as Luke doesn't believe he needs a minder. He is deluded. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Threepio said. "But I must inform you, Master Luke has programmed me only to respond to his commands. I cannot take orders from you."
Artoo made a chuckling noise, but he quickly fell silent when Vader pointed at him. "Quiet!"
He turned back to Threepio and gestured for the droid to come forward. He was still backed up against the charging station.
"Come here, Threepio."
"I believe I would rather stay where I am, sir, as my charging cycle wasn't fully completed and—" The droid cried out in terror as Vader dragged him forward with the Force, while Artoo screeched in protest. Threepio's voice was abruptly cut off as Vader flicked the power switch.
"I will not harm him," Vader said, opening Threepio's back panel and picking up a screwdriver. "I am merely resetting his command override. Do I need to do the same with you?"
Artoo was quiet, and then made a whirring noise. Then he made a series of simple beeps. I will look after Luke.
"Good," Vader said.
But shouldn't you be doing that? the droid whistled. You're his father. I would rather be his friend.
Vader paused in his work on Threepio's circuitry and glanced down at the droid that had once been a very close friend of his former self. The question didn't sound like an accusation, mere curiosity, but Vader still felt a need to defend himself.
"I have work to do. Much has changed since you knew my former self. The Old Republic had many Jedi Knights to maintain peace and order. The Empire only has me."
Artoo made a low beep in response.
Vader looked back at his work and then added, "You and Threepio are better suited to the task. "
It was the weekend the next day, which meant no school, but Luke didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed when he woke. School meant relief from these problems he was facing with his father, but it also brought with it a whole new set of problems. Besides, he wasn't in the mood for talking with Ben, as he still felt a faint tinge of jealousy at the memory of Ben's relaxed relationship with his father. It disturbed him, because he'd never thought of himself as prone to jealousy before.
At least he'd made a little progress with his own father, though. Now that he knew why his father didn't want to spend time with him, he could see about fixing it. If his father thought he was too young and immature to be of any interest, he could work hard at something until he proved that he wasn't a mere child.
Flying would have been his first choice, but Vader had already made his feelings clear about that. His second choice was maybe a little more dangerous, but would be far more impressive if he succeeded. Luke's thoughts drifted back to the previous night, when his father had let him play-fight with him.
If he secretly practiced by himself, he could learn to duel properly ... maybe he could even learn to defeat one of those dueling droids. If he could do that, Vader would no longer see him as nothing but a child. Perhaps he'd even want to take him with him when he left.
His room door-comm chimed when he was in the middle of pulling a long-sleeved shirt over his head. It was a surprise to find Threepio and Artoo waiting on the other side.
"Good morning, Master Luke!" Threepio said.
"How did you two get up here?" Luke said, smiling at Artoo as he rolled into the room.
"Your father arranged for our transponder codes to be given security clearance," Threepio said. "Artoo now has a map of the entire Imperial Palace in his memory banks."
"Really? That's good because I barely know my way around," Luke said, looking back at his reflection in the holovid screen. He ran both hands through his hair as a quick way of combing it. "So you two met my father, huh? Was he nice to you?"
Artoo made a noise that sounded vaguely sarcastic, and Threepio didn't answer at all. He was busy pulling up the blind on the nearest window.
"Oh, my, look at that beautiful day! Could we perhaps accompany you to a nearby park, Master Luke?"
"No, thanks, Threepio," Luke said. "There is something I need your help with, though."
Artoo whistled happily, and Threepio said, "We are both at your service, Master Luke."
Luke sighed. He'd told Threepio ten times already not to call him that.
"Follow me," he said, gesturing out the door.
Luke knew the dueling room was three floors down, but it took more than a few guesses to find the exact door. Threepio spent the whole time getting into debates with Artoo about something Artoo claimed had happened three months ago, but Threepio didn't believe it. The astromech droid had been working on filling in the gaps in Threepio's memory.
"All right, knock it off, guys," Luke said, as he ran his hand down the locked door. "We need to get this door open. Any ideas?"
Artoo whistled out a question.
"What does it matter, Artoo? Just open the door. There's a computer terminal right over there."
Artoo beeped and whistled more insistently, until Threepio said, "I'm sorry, Master Luke. He's being difficult. He wants to know why you need to access this room. The description on his map is vague."
"It's one of my father's rooms," Luke explained. "I need to find a way to get on better with him, and there are things in this room that will help. Come on, this is important!"
"See, now, Artoo," Threepio said. "We want Master Luke to bond with his father, don't we?"
Artoo made a vague series of beeps, and then rolled over to the computer terminal. He had the door opened within a few seconds, causing Luke to stumble into the room in surprise. He straightened up, looking around in pleasure.
"Thanks Artoo! You're the smartest droid in the galaxy!"
Threepio had wandered in behind him, followed closely by Artoo.
"Oh, my! Those look like battle droids!" Threepio said, seeing the dueling droids lined up along the far wall. "Are you quite certain this is safe?"
Artoo made a series of panicking whistles and rolled quickly in front of Luke, trying to herd him back out the door.
"Will you two relax?" Luke said, easily stepping around Artoo. "They're not even switched on. This is what I want."
He made his way quickly towards the lightsaber display case, deciding he was going to try with a real one this time, instead of a wussy training one. He picked out one of the shiny handles he'd been admiring yesterday.
Luke held his breath, and then pressed his thumb against the on switch. A rush of pleasure rose up in his chest when he saw that this one was a red lightsaber. Just like his father's.
Artoo screeched louder when he saw what Luke now had in his possession, but Luke just smiled.
"Calm down, Artoo. This isn't my first time using one of these!"
He swung it through the air, imagining for a moment that he was a sword master. It was a shame he couldn't invite Ben over, as he wasn't going to learn much by swinging it around by himself.
Luke glanced at Threepio, wondering if he might be able to serve as a dueling partner, at least until he was good enough to take on one of the proper fighting droids. But the protocol droid was hastily backing away with his arms in the air.
"Oh, no!"
Luke turned around, following his gaze to the dueling droids. One of them had powered up.
Vader waited in the shadows of the Emperor's largest throne room, trying not to appear impatient. The room was expansive enough that Vader's breathing could not be heard from where the Emperor sat. But the Emperor knew he was here, of course. This was all part of his little plan.
Abruptly, the main doors slid open. Two royal guards entered, escorting a visibly shaking navy captain.
"As you requested, Captain Koonter, your highness," one of the guards stated.
"Leave us," the Emperor ordered.
They complied, leaving the captain to imagine he was alone with the Emperor.
"Your highness," the captain said, bowing low.
"Captain," the Emperor replied, smiling so he showed all his teeth. "What a pleasure to see you."
"Likewise, your highness," the captain said. He sounded far less nervous, foolishly imagining he wasn't in any danger.
"I received an interesting report from Lord Vader today," the Emperor continued.
The captain's smile began to falter.
"He just finished going over the logs of your ship, the Arena. It appears you have somehow, shall we say, 'misplaced' five hundred imperial citizens during your last operation."
Now the captain was certainly not smiling.
The Emperor continued, "This little mishap has caused much unrest among the populace. In fact, I would go as far to say their protests in the Senate have been an inconvenience."
"This was a m-misunderstanding, your h-highness," the captain stuttered.
Vader listened as the hapless captain launched into a long and detailed tale of computer mistakes, stormtrooper inefficiency, and rebel brutality. It was very tedious, and Vader found his mind drifting on to other matters. His son always seemed at the edge of his thoughts lately.
Without being fully aware of what he was doing, he stretched out with the Force, checking on the boy's presence.
The response was immediate. Danger.
Artoo streaked past at full speed, barrelling towards the dueling droid.
"No!" Luke said, reaching out a hand in shock. "No, it's too big!"
"Artoo!" Threepio shouted. "You'll be sliced in two!"
But before he reached the droid, Artoo stopped and released an oil slick onto the shiny floor. The dueling droid, approaching at a frightening speed, didn't react to Artoo at all, and seemed completely focused on Luke. It skidded on the oil slick, sliding into the wall.
"Come, Master Luke, we must leave this dreadful room!" Threepio said, tugging at his arm. "I don't know why Artoo let you in here!"
"But, Artoo!" Luke said, pulling away from Threepio. The astromech was again rolling towards the dueling droid, with his charging fork extended. But as soon as he made contact with the droid, it swung one of its arms around, sending Artoo flying off in the opposite direction. He slammed into the wall and then fell forward, dome clanging on the ground.
"Artoo!" Luke cried, rushing towards him. But the dueling droid moved into his path, a blue residual charge crackling on its surface. Then it came straight for him, moving impossibly fast.
"Aaaah!" Luke jumped out of the way as the droid ignited its own saber and took a swing at him.
"Go away! Go away, you dreadful droid!" Threepio said, trying to get between them. But with one swing of it's free arm, the protocol droid was sent flying towards the door.
Luke hastily brought his own blade up in defense and once again had to jump backwards to avoid the droid's attack. Unfortunately, his foot twisted sideways and he crashed to the floor. Luke watched in horror as his lightsaber skidded out of his hand, sliding far across the floor.
"Please, we need help!" Threepio shouted out the door. "Won't somebody help?!"
A sudden burst of fear echoed in Vader's mind. It tugged at every last remaining cell in his body, urging him to leave the Emperor, leave the doomed captain, and go to the source of this anxiety immediately. He visibly tensed as understanding dawned.
Luke!
The Emperor looked past the captain and fixed Vader with a warning glare. His master had been planning this little execution in every sadistic detail for days.
"So this whole incident wasn't your fault, is that what you are trying to tell me, captain?" the Emperor enquired.
"Yes, your highness."
"It is clear to me that Lord Vader must have been gravely mistaken in his report. Would you agree, Captain?"
"Yes, your highness," the captain said, falling easily into the trap.
Luke extended his hand towards the distant lightsaber and closed his eyes.
Maybe if he focused really hard, he could attract the saber to him, like his father did.
Nothing. Not even a twitch.
He opened his eyes to see the droid raising its own lightsaber to deliver a fatal slice. Luke rolled out of the way and leaped to his feet, glancing around desperately for something, anything to use against the droid. Then he saw it. A severed droid arm, left over from a previous bout. He picked it up and brandished it at the droid, feeling his heart pounding rapidly in the depths of his chest.
The droid stopped, lightsaber poised.
For a few seconds, Luke dared think it had shut down, but then it resumed its advance. Luke hurled the arm as hard as he could. The droid raised his saber and sliced the metal into two parts. The first piece spun away harmlessly. The second went firing off into the row of inactive dueling droids. Luke watched in pure disbelief, as they all began to spring to life.
"NO!"
Vader clenched his fingers around his lightsaber hilt as he felt Luke's panic. The boy must be in serious danger, there was no other explanation for this ongoing disturbance in the Force. He had to get away from here as soon as possible.
"Lord Vader, do you think you were mistaken in your report?" the Emperor asked, suddenly.
That was his cue. He stepped out of the shadows and tried desperately to keep his voice calm.
"No, I do not, my master."
The captain whirled around, realization filling his face. He looked at Vader much like a small rodent would look at a giant predator.
The Emperor cackled, enjoying himself immensely. "Why don't you show the good captain the penalty for failing me, Lord Vader?" he suggested.
Luke sat hunched beside the fallen Artoo, watching the chaos around him. The droids were clearly programmed to attack the nearest object with a lightsaber, because they were all dueling with each other. They appeared to be evenly matched. Every now and then, one would make a mistake and be destroyed. Luke's original tormentor was still going strong, however. It kept turning its hollow metal eyes on Luke, making him shudder.
"I'm sorry, Artoo," Luke said miserably. He knelt beside the droid, using all his strength to push him back upright.
In the middle of this chaos, Threepio returned, leading four royal guards and Lieutenant Hicks. The security officer swore loudly at the sight.
"Master Luke!" Threepio called. "Artoo!" He took a step towards them, and then hastily stepped back as a severed droid arm came spinning in his direction.
One of the guards raised his blaster and took a shot at the nearest droid. The bolt hit the droid's torso, but it didn't slow it down for a moment. The others immediately took aim too, but one of their shots bounced off a droid's lightsaber and hit the wall beside Luke.
"No, cease fire!" Lieutenant Hicks said, raising a hand towards them. "Luke! Come towards us … follow the wall! Quick, now, while they're distracted!"
"I can't leave Artoo!" Luke shouted. "He's hurt! They'll destroy him!"
"Forget the droid, kid!" a guard shouted, attempting to get closer. "Come on! Hurry!"
"Can't you turn these things off?!" Luke said, flattening himself against the wall as another shard of metal came flying. "There must be a way!"
"Lord Vader uses the Force to turn them off!" a guard said. "The switch is on their neck."
"Then find him!" Luke said, sweating at the idea of trying to get close enough to hit a button on their necks. They were too tall! When his father saw this mess, he was going to be in big trouble, but right now he didn't care. There were worse things than being in trouble.
"There's no time!" Lieutenant Hicks said, as another droid fell to the ground. "Run! Now!"
"Are you crazy!?" Luke yelled.
Now there were an uneven number of remaining droids, and the fighting became even more intense.
"They're distracted!" a guard said. "If you move quickly, you'll make it."
Luke eyed the droids in fear, and climbed shakily to his feet.
"Oh, I can't watch," Threepio said.
Luke shut his eyes, trying to gather some courage. He knew he had it, somewhere in there. There was that time he had faced up to Fixer in the school playground. And that time he had told Uncle Owen the truth about how he had found his multi-function power tool, even though he knew he'd be in for it.
"Quickly, now!" A guard had managed to get closer, and had his hand extended towards him.
Luke was about to run, when another droid fell down. Only two now.
"Hurry! before there's only one left!"
Luke ran. It all happened in a blur of motion. He was closer ... he had nearly reached the guards … he was going to make it!
Then something came spinning in front of him, smashing into his head. It was the body of the second-to-last droid.
Yelling and blaster fire echoed in his ears, and Luke looked around in terror. Everything seemed to be moving slower than normal. The killer droid swung its lightsaber around in a wide circle, knocking Luke to the floor. Luke looked left and right in confusion, then looked down. He stared at the stump where his right hand should have been in horror. Then his vision turned black, and he sank down into a sudden darkness.
Vader stumbled backwards slightly, seeing his vision blur as the result of another surge of terror from Luke. He focused on the petrified man in front of him, briefly wondering if he had a son. Vader couldn't muster enough of the Dark Side to choke the captain, in his current distracted state, so he ignited his lightsaber and allowed the man a quick death.
The Emperor watched, clearly unimpressed. "Disappointing, Lord Vader. He didn't even suffer."
"My master," Vader said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I must excuse myself from your presence. Luke is in danger."
"Ah, of course, your dear son," the Emperor said. "How could I be so foolish as to think making an example of this deluded excuse for a servant was more important to you than your offspring."
Vader was itching to leave.
"Very well then," the Emperor said, dismissing Vader with a wave of his hand. "Go to the boy. Next time, I'll have a guard dispose of my enemies."
It was meant as a rebuke, but Vader was too worried to care. He was already stepping into the elevator.
He reached the bottom of the tower just as two guards rushed up, emanating fear.
"Sir!" the closest one said. "Your son has been injured! Lieutenant Hicks and Captain Salva have taken him to the medical centre."
"Injured how?!"
The second guard's helmet tilted in the direction of his lightsaber.
An hour later, Vader paced up and down in the medcenter waiting room, feeling like the galaxy had stopped turning. The security officer and the guard captain stood nearby, probably wondering when he was going to snap and choke them. Normally, that would have granted him some relief, but this was beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. The Force itself was trembling with his anger.
After pacing through several more cycles, Vader finally turned to face them.
"How did he get inside the dueling room?"
The officer swallowed nervously. "I don't know, sir."
"Then why are you standing here?" Vader asked, wondering whether people were born dense or whether being in his presence made them that way. "Go and find out!"
"Yes, my lord."
He and the guard disappeared out the door, leaving Vader alone with his anger and grief. He stared around in frustration, looking for something to destroy. A sturdy metal chair was a good candidate, but as he approached it, his gaze fell on a magazine, lying at the top of a stack on the side table.
The title read: 'Navigating the Asteroid Field—a Coruscant families' guide to parenting'. The cover was filled with a sickening image of a smiling father hugging his son. They were strangely familiar ... it was Senator Lerrod and his brat. Large letters underlined the picture. 'Inside—our celebrity father and son exclusive!'
Vader pulled it into his hands with the Force and flicked through the pages, more out of desperation for a distraction than anything else. He paused at the question and answer page, wondering if they had any tips for keeping your son away from your dueling droids. No such luck. They only featured normal, functional families here. Vader tossed it against the wall and resumed his pacing.
Perhaps I could start my own magazine, Vader thought. Sith parenting—a guide. What to do when your master wishes your son dead. How to fit in fatherhood with your Sith lifestyle. If only he knew the answers. The thought caused him to remember the book the doctor had offered him on the first day he'd come to visit Luke. He was almost ready to admit he was regretting his hasty refusal.
The boy had been taken into surgery immediately, so Vader hadn't had a chance to learn how seriously he was hurt. He could only imagine what the doctor was thinking of his parenting abilities right now. And much of it was probably right. He was responsible for this. He foolishly allowed Luke to play with a lightsaber without emphasizing the dangers to a necessary degree. The dueling room should have been permanently guarded!
"Lord Vader."
Vader looked up to see the doctor, coming towards him down the corridor. Finally.
"Is he all right?!" Vader demanded.
"He's fine," the doctor said, in an annoyingly soothing voice. "He woke up a short time ago. We've completed the final testing on his new artificial hand and everything checks out."
Vader was both relieved and saddened at the news. "You couldn't reattach his hand?"
The doctor shook his head. "Those lightsaber wounds are nasty like that, as I'm sure you know. Please, come into my office, and I'll show you the scans."
Vader clenched his own right hand as he followed the doctor, stray memories surfacing. Luke was too young to have to cope with this ... he was too young to be permanently scarred. He had failed to protect him ... failed in his duty as his father. It was only by some miracle of the Force the boy was alive at all.
When they entered the office, the doctor brought up a picture of Luke's injury on the monitor. Vader was slightly relieved to see it was only the hand itself that was now prosthetic—the forearm and wrist had not been damaged.
The doctor was talking about the technical nature of the injury and prosthetic, and Vader forced himself to focus.
"... indistinguishable from a normal hand. Luke will not take long to adjust physically, but emotionally will be a different story. He may experience sleep disturbances and anxiety. If needed, I can refer him to a confidential counselling service. My advice would be to gently encourage Luke to return to normal activities as soon as possible. He might want to take it easy for a few days, first."
"I will see to it," Vader said, distantly.
"There is something else I want to discuss with you," the doctor continued, glancing at the notes on his datapad. "I took the time to do some blood tests, and Luke is very low in a few essential vitamins. I'm prescribing some tablets to help boost his immune system while his body is recovering. You may need to look at some long term changes to his diet. Does he eat plenty of fruit and vegetables?"
Vader stopped short of admitting he didn't have the slightest idea. "Luke chooses his meals for himself," he explained. "You will have to ask him."
"Ah. There's your problem."
"What problem?"
"You need to personally monitor his food intake—if not you, then a droid, at least. Boys of Luke's age prefer to eat what tastes good, rather than what's good for them, if you take my meaning."
Vader stared at the doctor, wondering what other apparently commonplace knowledge about raising children he was ignorant of. He was failing at this entire parenthood venture. Failing miserably.
"Do they also have a tendency to endanger their lives on a regular basis, or is this incident another result of my neglect?!" Vader demanded.
"Children have accidents," the doctor said, simply. He put his datapad on his desk. "I know you're angry that you didn't prevent this ... every parent feels like this when things go wrong, I promise you."
His gaze had fallen on a holo-projection sitting alongside the computer monitor. Vader realized it was a family image.
"Your children?" Vader enquired, gesturing.
"Yes."
"There are seven of them," he said, surprised.
"There's a pair of twins in there," he explained.
Twins. Vader considered it for a moment, and then decided it was better not to. He was struggling to cope with one. "Do any of them have artificial limbs?"
"Well, my wife is Tihydran," the doctor explained. "They possess the ability to regrow damaged limbs. Quite remarkable ..." he trailed off. "But we can't protect them from everything," he added, after a moment's silence. "Only do our best."
"I do not require your sympathy or your absolution," Vader said, annoyed. "I failed. Failure is unacceptable. May I see the boy?" It was more of a demand than a question.
"Follow me," the doctor said, sounding relieved that this conversation was coming to an end.
He led Vader into the surgery, where Luke was sitting on the bed, flexing his new prosthetic hand. He looked up as Vader entered, appearing pale and tired.
"How is it?" the doctor asked.
"It feels strange," Luke said. "A bit numb."
"That's normal at first," the doctor explained. "Your brain needs to get used to interpreting the new sensations."
Luke glanced at Vader, looking nervous. "Does this mean I can go home?" Luke asked.
"You may," the doctor said. "There's little point in you sitting around here. But come back straight away if you experience any pain. In the meantime, stay away from lightsabers. Or you'll end up looking like your father."
Luke looked horrified at the thought. Vader turned and glared at the man, not appreciating the humor at his expense. He was fortunate he was useful. The doctor quickly cleared his throat.
"I'll leave you two alone."
The door closed behind him as he made his exit, and Vader turned back to Luke.
"What, in the name of the Force, possessed you to go and start a fight with my dueling droids!? Are you insane?"
Luke cringed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"I have no interest in apologies," Vader said. "I want an explanation."
Luke shrugged, staring at the floor.
"You could have been killed," Vader started, waving a finger in Luke's direction. "It is a miracle of the Force that you only lost a hand. How could you be so stupid and reckless?!"
A tear slid down Luke's cheek, and Vader paused in his rant. Somewhere, deep down, he knew he was only yelling at his son because he'd been so angry at the thought of losing him. This may allow him to feel better, but it was clearly having the opposite effect on the boy.
"You will never touch a lightsaber again," Vader said, quietly. "Is that clear?"
Luke nodded, reaching up to wipe the teardrop away.
"Come," Vader said, turning to leave.