Chapter 8: Recovering

The security officer wasn't brave enough to actually give him the results of his investigation in person. Instead, much later that day, Vader received a detailed written report, with attached security recordings of the whole sorry incident. Even with the sound off and playing at double speed, it was easy to see what had happened. Luke had convinced Artoo to slice in and open the door. The droids, upon realizing the danger, had done their best but they were no match for the deadly dueling droids. Or a twelve year old Skywalker, for that matter.

The officer had listed some recommendations at the end. A guard assigned to the dueling room door at all times. A bio-signature lock on the lightsaber cabinet. Safety upgrades on the dueling droid design. And the final point—destruction of the "compromised" astromech droid.

Vader looked away from the report, feeling the misery still emanating from across the hall. Luke had not spoken a single word since leaving the medical centre, and had voluntarily confined himself to his room. Having his droid destroyed by palace security wouldn't help the situation. Both Artoo and Threepio had been returned to the hangar by the technicians tasked with cleaning up the hellish mess in the dueling room. Perhaps it was time he went and spoke to the droids, now that he was feeling somewhat calmer.

In all his brooding over his failure, he had realised one important thing. It could have been far worse. If he had taken Luke to Mustafar, it would have been far worse. The dueling droids here were earlier models and not as fast or aggressive as the variety there. This was a much needed wake-up call. Keeping his son alive was clearly going to involve far more effort and vigilance than he had originally imagined.

When he entered the hangar bay tech room, he was met with a sight of misery that rivaled Luke's in the medical centre. Both droids were dented and scuffed, and had been newly fitted with restraining bolts. Threepio had his hand resting on Artoo's powered-down dome. His eyes lit up as his sensors became aware of Vader's presence.

"Lord Vader!" he said, sounding more fearful than usual. "Is Master Luke safe?"

"Luke is in his bedroom," Vader said calmly. "His injury was serious but treatable. Are you and Artoo all right?"

"I am in one piece, sir, but Artoo was damaged by those dreadful droids! The security officer told me he would be melted down! Please don't! If any droid should be melted down, it should be me! Not poor, brave Artoo. We didn't know that room contained those awful machines, and we'd never have allowed Master Luke to enter if we'd known!"

"Quiet, Threepio," Vader said, picking up a multitool. He used the Force to shift Artoo to the workbench and then prised off the restraining bolt. "I have no plans to have either of you melted down. I know what happened."

He opened Artoo's main access hatch and found his circuit breaker had been shorted out. When he'd last been responsible for maintaining this droid, he'd installed several backups, but they had long since been removed. It was a simple matter to replace it, and within a minute, Artoo was once again powered up and chirping out a string of questions.

"Oh, Artoo!" Threepio said, watching anxiously from the other side of the workbench. "Yes, Master Luke is safe!"

Vader walked around the bench and took advantage of Threepio's distraction to remove his own restraining bolt.

"Luke is in his room. You can go to him and see for yourselves," Vader said. Hopefully they could improve the boy's mood.

Artoo made a long series of sad beeps and whistles, and Vader hastily raised a hand to silence them.

"There is no need for apologies. This failure was mine. I will not let it happen again. In the meantime, I have a new task for both of you."

The droids turned to look at him, Artoo's lights blinking in anticipation.

"It involves Luke's diet."

As soon as Artoo and Threepio entered his room, Luke came out from under his pillow and crouched down to wrap his arms around the astromech droid. He couldn't apologise enough for what they had gone through, and a lot of tears were shed before he could begin to accept their reassurance that everything would turn out all right.

He was still too miserable to go to school for the first few days of the following week, but Artoo and Threepio buzzed around, seeing to his every need and playing games in order to keep his mind from dwelling on the accident. The dexterity and coordination required to play a HoloNet starfighter sim game gave his new hand a full workout, and soon he could almost forget it was prosthetic.

Lev had arrived in his room one afternoon with a candy gift basket, and a get well card signed by many of the palace staff, including Lieutenant Hicks and the guards who had tried to rescue him from the droids. It meant a lot. But strangely, half the candy and chocolate seemed to disappear overnight, and be replaced with dried fruit. At the same time, his droids seemed to have developed a new obsession with making sure he ate a lot of vegetables, claiming it was needed for his recovery. He didn't mind so much. It was good to feel like someone cared about such things.

But the person from whom he'd have really appreciated some caring gestures hadn't said anything more about the accident since his words in the medcentre. Luke had been expecting more lecturing and maybe even a punishment, but he seemed more distant than usual. Luke wondered whether the ranting or the silence was the preferable option. He'd completely ruined any chance of his father seeing him as anything but useless now, so he might as well get used to this.

On the morning he made the decision to return to school, he realized he was actually looking forward to going back. It was boring just sitting around his room, and the spare time made him dwell on the accident. He also had a feeling Ben wanted him to hurry back, judging by all the homework updates he'd been regularly sending him. Explaining the reason for his absence had been difficult. Mentioning lightsabers and dueling droids to his friend had been completely out of the question, so instead he'd invented a story about an accident with a laser cutter.

Luke was on his way towards the first security checkpoint out of the palace, when Lev appeared.

"Luke! Hang on a moment, I'll give you a ride."

"I can walk," Luke insisted.

"No, there's trouble in the area. There was another protest rally last night and the troops are out in force. It will be safer if I give you a ride."

Luke reluctantly agreed. He'd experienced bullying city guards in the past, and he knew it was better to avoid them. For some reason, they always seemed to pick on him. Apparently he didn't look like he belonged here.

On the ride to school, Luke pressed his face against the speeder window, staring at the public walkways below. As Lev had said, there were squads of stormtroopers marching in formation, only stopping to question people and tear down posters. People were pushing past each other to avoid them.

"So that ship is still missing?" Luke asked. "What do you think happened to it?"

"I don't know," Lev said. "It's an odd situation. It seems like the entire thing was an orchestrated setup to me. I think someone arranged for the ship to go missing soon after it was boarded and intended to use it to stir up rebellion."

"Oh." Luke turned away from the sight, not really interested in all the political talk. He held up his two hands, placing them side by side.

"Lev, do you think it's noticeable?" he asked. The last thing he needed was some nickname like 'bionic boy'.

"Of course not," Lev said, not even looking to see what he was referring to.

"I feel like a freak."

"We all feel like that occasionally."

"Do you think my father does?" Luke asked, curiously. "Maybe that's why he's so moody."

"I'm not going to touch that one with a long pole," Lev said, joining a new stream of traffic.

The first class of the day was physical ed, and Luke met up with Ben in the changing rooms. No one else appeared to have noticed he was missing all week, but Luke didn't mind. He enjoyed keeping a low profile.

"Which one is it?" Ben asked, staring intently at Luke's hands.

"You can't tell?" Luke asked. It was blindingly obvious to him, but perhaps he'd been staring at them too long.

"No. I wouldn't even know unless you told me."

Luke held out the artificial hand for Ben to inspect. He poked it a few times, curiously.

"So what's it like?"

"Strange. It's a little heavier than a normal hand."

"It must have hurt so much," Ben said, half sympathetic, half impressed.

"I suppose. But I don't remember the actual moment when it happened. My doctor said it's common to block out something like that."

Ben nodded, understanding. "It's great to be living now," he said, as they walked into the gym. "In the past, they never had realistic looking artificial limbs. I've seen pictures of people with mechanical arms made up of bare wires and hydraulics."

"Sounds creepy," Luke said, feeling a little disturbed.

"And way back, they didn't even have those. Some people just had hooks instead of hands. Like that space pirate ..."

"Hi, Miss Lee," Luke said, smiling as their teacher approached.

"Luke! I was wondering when you were coming back. You missed out on the end of the gymnastics classes."

"Can I catch up?" Luke asked. "Pleeease?"

"The rest of the class is starting holoball today, but if you want to work by yourself, then that's fine with me."

"Thank you!" Luke called, as she went off to round up the rest of the class.

"Teacher's pet," Ben said, between coughs.

"Look who's talking," Luke countered. "The guy who has the math teacher's comlink frequency."

Ben tried to push him in response, but Luke ran off towards the gym equipment, ready to start practicing his backward flip. After a thorough and exhausting workout, he returned to the locker rooms flexing his new hand. He had been plagued by fears that the thing would fall off, but everything seemed to be working just fine.

After he finished changing, Miss Lee called him over.

"I'll catch up with you in math," Luke said to Ben, curious as to what she wanted to talk about. He followed her into the office, which was coated with holoposters of various famous sports teams.

"Seeing as you like gymnastics so much," Miss Lee explained. "I have a proposal for you."

"What?" Luke asked, curious.

"The gymnastics team. I'd like you to join."

Luke was stunned. "The school team? Me? I've only been here—"

"You're well up to their standard," Miss Lee said. "And with a few months training, you'll be beating everyone hands down."

"I'm not that good, am I?"

Miss Lee laughed. "Stop being modest. You're a natural."

"What do I have to do? Are there practices?"

"For an hour after school, three times a week. Next session is tomorrow, so think about it, and if you turn up, you're on the team."

Luke spent the rest of the day with his head in the stars. He'd never been good at something before. Except fixing moisture vaporators, but that wasn't going to impress anyone on Coruscant. On their way to the cafeteria, Ben tried desperately to change the subject.

"So did you see all the troops this morning?" Ben asked. "I saw on the news that some of the protestors blockaded one of the main shipping routes. Took the navy a while to remove them."

"Do you think I'm going to be the only one in our year on the team?" Luke asked. "I hope not. I'd hate it if everyone was older."

"Luke, are you even listening to me?"

"Sure, Ben. I just can't believe I'm on the team."

Ben sighed, nodding. "You know, I'm on the dejarik team. We're really disorganized, though ... the last time we had a meeting was about a month ago. We're trying to get the faculty to recognize it as a legitimate sport."

"My astromech droid can play dejarik," Luke said.

"I'm sure there are droids that can do gymnastics, too."

"There are not!"

"Is that a bet?"

Luke was about to reply, when a loud cry of anguish caused both of them to come to a halt. Ben pointed around a corner, and Luke ran forward. He quickly drew back when he recognized Chilee Lerrod, plus one of his fellow hitmen, terrorizing a young student.

"Awwww, you gonna cry now, spit-head?" Chilee whined at the kid, who had been pushed to the ground.

"Let's go find a teacher," Ben said, his eyes wide with fear.

Luke followed his friend for a few paces down the corridor, but he paused when the victim cried out again. Something inside him snapped, and he made an abrupt about-turn. Ben yelled something after him, but Luke was too angry to hear it.

He burst around the corner and threw himself at Chilee, forcing him away from the kid. They smashed into the wall, and Luke quickly jumped back to his feet. The other bully stood by, staring at Luke with a blank look on his face. Luke was glad—taking on Chilee was hard enough, he didn't have a chance against two.

It took Chilee a moment to get back to his own feet, and his eyes went large with surprise when he saw who his assailant was.

"You!"

Beside him, Luke saw Chilee's original victim make a quick escape. Now that the kid was safe, he should do the same himself, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"Yeah, me," Luke said, trying to be taller. "Surprised?"

"Surprised you aren't dead yet, orphan-boy," Chilee said, stepping forward. "Because you must have killed someone important to get into this school." He pushed Luke roughly in the chest, but Luke didn't back down. There was no way was he going to let Chilee push him around now. He took a step forward, trying not to let their differences in height intimidate him.

Chilee took a swing at Luke, but Luke ducked. Behind him, a hand scraped up a handful of his tunic, but let go before Luke could struggle away. A flash of red metal appeared in the corner of his eye, and he looked up to find B-60 was standing about a foot away.

"Are you engaging in some kind of bonding ritual?" he asked, in a bored tone. "Or is this a creative dance? Whatever it is, school policy states that loitering in the corridors is forbidden."

"Shut your trap, you stupid droid," Chilee said, turning angrily to face the droid.

"If you will not comply with school policy, my programming will force me to inform a teacher," B-60 replied, indifferent to Chilee's threatening advance.

Chilee's fellow hitman ran to join his leader. Luke felt someone grab him by the shoulder. He turned and found Ben was dragging him away with surprising strength for someone who couldn't do a pushup to save himself.

"Are you crazy?" Ben said, angrily. "Taking them on single-handed! You were lucky to get away from them in one piece!"

They were now safe in the cafeteria, back in their usual out-of-the-way corner. Luke ate his lunch quietly, listening to Ben's tirade.

"I'm sick of him pushing people around, that's all," Luke said. "That kid could have been seriously injured by the time we found someone else."

"So where do you and Lerrod know each other from, anyway?" Ben asked, picking up his own food. "He was acting like you were his arch-nemesis. And why was he calling you orphan-boy?"

"It's a long story," Luke said. He stared blankly into the distance for a while, remembering how it felt to be living at the senator's home. "What is wrong with him, anyway?" Luke asked, finally.

"Who?"

"Chilee."

"You don't know his story?" Ben leaned forward on the bench, "I can tell you what I know, but it's only second hand."

"What happened?" Luke asked, curious.

"Back when he first came here, his dad wasn't the senator. He was just the senator's assistant, or something like that."

Luke nodded, understanding.

"So he used to get ignored quite a bit," Ben continued. "The same as with you and me. Understand?"

"Ignored? Chilee?" Luke said, disbelieving.

"Yeah. He was always getting mocked about his name. Apparently it means 'mucus' in Bocce."

Luke couldn't help but laugh.

"Anyway, then the current senator was killed by Lord Vader, and Chilee's father was promoted overnight, to fill the gap. So suddenly Chilee is allowed into the social circles, and—"

"Hold on," Luke said, slapping the table to get Ben's attention. "The current senator was killed by who?"

"Lord Vader. Yeah, if you look up the official news story, it says it was natural causes, but no one who knows anything about how things really work in the government believes that."

Luke felt sick. That couldn't be true. Although, perhaps his father had a really good reason. Maybe he was trying to protect someone else. "Why would he kill him?"

Ben shrugged. "I don't know. He probably lost his temper. You know the stories about Lord Vader."

"No, I don't. What stories?"

"I'll tell you after I finish the story about Chilee," Ben said, sounding frustrated. "Anyway, so now Chilee's father was senator, and he realized he could get away with anything. One day a student knocks his tray at lunch, and he just went nuts. It took three security droids to get him away from the guy. Beat him up really bad. He had to go to the medcentre."

"Why wasn't he expelled?" Luke asked.

"No one ever gets expelled here," Ben explained. "Their parents would have the school closed. Would you expel the son of Coruscant's senator?"

Luke saw Ben's point.

"Ever since then, everyone's been scared of him, and that just makes him worse. Nobody knows when he's going to fly off the rails." Ben was quiet, pushing his food around his plate. Then he suddenly blurted out, "Luke, are you an orphan?"

Luke sighed. Ben's questions had started coming up more regularly, lately, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the whole thing quiet.

"You were going to tell me what you'd heard about Lord Vader," Luke prompted.

Ben leaned back, grinning. "Oh, yeah. I've got some great stories about him. Really juicy, bone-chilling stories I've heard from my father. Wanna hear?"

Luke was almost on the edge of his seat. "Tell me!"

"After you tell me how you know Lerrod."

"Ben!"

Ben shrugged. "Now you know how I feel when you redirect my questions. I wish you'd just lie to me. At least then I wouldn't be always wondering what deep dark secrets you're hiding."

"There's no secrets," Luke said. He thought about it for a moment. "Okay, there's one big secret, but ... but you wouldn't want to know it. If I tell you, you'll say 'you shouldn't have told me.' Can you please just tell me what you've heard about Vader?"

"Since when did you care about politics?" Ben asked. "I was talking about the military spending hike during history, and you fell asleep on me."

"I know, but this is different ... this is important to me. Tell me and ... and ..."

"You'll tell me your big secret?" Ben prompted.

Luke struggled with his options for a few seconds, before finally giving in.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you!"

Ben nodded and then shifted closer. He spoke quietly. "Lord Vader ... they say he can choke people ... without even touching them. They say he kills navy officers if they do the slightest thing wrong."

Luke frowned. This was all lies. His father hadn't choked anyone, and he'd been living with him for a while now.

"My father told me he has strange powers," Ben continued. "Like the Jedi used to have. They say he can see through walls and—"

"I already know about the powers," Luke said. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can remember off hand. He scares me, anyhow. I had a nightmare about him once when I was a kid. Why are you so interested?"

Luke sighed, wondering if he was going to regret what he was about to say. "If I tell you, it means you can't tell anyone. For any reason. Not even if your life depends on it. Understand?"

"Sure," Ben said, surprised at Luke's seriousness.

Luke looked around to make sure no one was nearby.

"We're sort of related," he mumbled.

"Who? You and Lerrod?"

"No!" Luke almost shuddered at the thought. "Me and ... you know ... him."

"You don't mean ... Lord Vader?"

"Yes."

"You are related to Lord Vader?!"

"Shhh, not so loud!"

"You've got to be—"

"I'm not. What I told you about living on Tatooine was true, but my aunt and uncle ... well, they were murdered and I came here as an orphan. Then I was staying with Chilee's father—that's how I know him. Then Lord Vader found me and now I'm staying with him at the Imperial Palace."

"Good one. Now tell me the real story—"

"Come on," Luke said. "Why would I lie to you?"

"Because I told you to."

"I'm not lying. I swear. I swear on ... on everything. Ask your father if you don't believe me. He knows."

Ben was quiet, staring wide-eyed at Luke. "When you say you and Lord Vader are related ... do you mean you're his second cousin by marriage or something?"

Luke stared at the table. This was the hard part. "Closer."

"Nephew?"

"Closer."

"Brother?"

"Oh stars," Luke said, losing his patience. "I'm his son! Yeah, that's right, his son. I already told you I stayed with my father! Now you know the truth, and you're probably wishing you didn't ... why did I tell you? Listen, just because he's my father, doesn't mean I'm a different person—"

"You mean he's your biological father?"

Luke had to fight to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Yes."

Ben looked a little scared for a moment or two, and then he frowned in confusion. "Listen. I already told you it didn't matter to me who your father was."

"Even if it's—"

"It doesn't matter to me," Ben repeated. "But I don't understand. Why did you tell people you were a charity case? Why are you are hiding this?"

Luke was silent.

"I mean, Lord Vader's son?! Everyone would want to be your friend ... why are you hanging around with me? You could go and sit over there." Ben pointed towards the most exclusive lunch table.

"You can't tell anyone," Luke interrupted. "I don't want anyone to know. I'd never fit in with them."

Ben nodded, but it was clear he still didn't understand. "Does your father want it to be a secret?"

"I don't think he cares either way," Luke said, staring at the table surface.

"Do the teachers know?"

Luke nodded.

"This is so ..."

"What?" Luke asked, fearful of what Ben would say. Weird? Horrible? Scary?

"Awesome," Ben finished, suddenly grinning. "If Ophelia only knew."

"You can't tell anyone!" Luke repeated.

"I know. I won't, I promise. Hey, wanna go study in the library?"

Luke blinked in disbelief. "What? Is that it? Don't you want to know what he does in his spare time and all those other—"

"Does he have any spare time?" Ben asked.

"Come to think of it ... no."

Ben was silent for a moment. "I guess I'm still in disbelief," he said, finally. "Out of all the famous people ... he's the last one I'd have picked as being your father. You don't remind me of him, at all."

"You don't know half of it," Luke sighed.

Vader flicked through a pile of reports, looking for one that didn't relate to the Spectrum issue in some way. He was getting truly tired of hearing about it. But no, it was all authorization requests for more troops to be assigned to the search effort and underground news holos from around the galaxy relating to 'Spectrum sightings!'. Finally, he pushed the datapads aside and turned to the computer.

He pressed a button to display his mail inbox and was immediately met by at least ten new messages. All with 'Spectrum' in the subject line. Perhaps he should go and catch up with his dueling practice, now that the droids had been replaced.

Then he noticed the word 'Luke' and opened the message out of curiosity. It was a message from Luke's medic, enquiring as to how his son was getting on with his new hand. It seemed innocent enough, but Vader wouldn't put it past him to ask such a thing only in the hope that he would in turn have to ask Luke how he was coping. The last thing he wanted was to have a conversation with Luke about bionic limbs.

He pressed 'delete' and the next message opened automatically. It was a request for contact from an ISB agent assigned to the Spectrum investigation. Underneath was a number code. The second and third to last digits corresponded to the priority of the report. This was a 2.

Vader stood up quickly and walked over to the holocom. After he'd entered his security codes, one of the senior operatives answered almost immediately.

"Lord Vader."

"What is it?"

The monitor connected to the terminal lit up with a navy personnel file. Commander Dul, the self-assured first officer of the Arena.

"We've been keeping a close watch on Commander Dul ever since news of Captain Koonter's execution hit the fleet."

"What has he done?"

"Two days ago, he was on shore leave on the third Corellian moon. He withdrew sixty thousand Imperial credits from a bank account in the name of a character from an old holovid cartoon. After he left the bank, he must have spotted one of our agents and managed to lose them. He never returned to the ship and has not been seen since."

Vader felt a wave of anger, both at the incompetence of the agent and the vile, traitorous officer. He would put some bounty hunters on his trail as soon as possible.

"Do you have any other good news?" he enquired.

"We did manage to break into the bank account."

"And?"

"The credits were initially deposited exactly one hour after the Spectrum was given clearance to enter hyperspace ... exactly the time we believe the Spectrum disappeared."

"He was bribed!?" Vader felt his mood sink even lower. No wonder he had sensed something amiss on the Arena. He'd been too busy concentrating on the nervous, stupid captain.

"Yes, sir. This is only speculation but perhaps he was paid to sabotage the Spectrum so it would fall out of hyperspace at a particular place. There, pirates could have been waiting for it. The ship itself has likely been vaporized, and the crew sold into slavery."

"Find this Commander Dul," Vader said, waving a finger at the image. "I don't care what it takes—bring him to me, and I will interrogate him myself."

Ben had taken the news of his lineage much better than Luke could ever have hoped. Within a few days, everything was back to normal between them, and the rest of the school's student body still remained in ignorance.

One afternoon, they had gone to the public library to study, and Luke took the time to explain the real circumstances under which he'd lost his hand. This time, he could also describe how angry his father had been afterwards. It felt good to have someone else to confide in. Lev was always willing to listen, but he was limited in how much sympathy he could express. Ben had no such restraints.

"He shouldn't have done that," Ben said, flatly.

"But I destroyed five of his dueling droids."

"It was an accident. And you lost your hand! How could he yell at you after you'd been injured so badly? That's just cruel."

"Maybe he's lost so many limbs himself, he's used to it, and doesn't realize how bad it is," Luke said, twirling his lightpen in his fingers.

"Even so."

"I need to find some way to get back on his good side," Luke said, resting his head on his arms.

"Does he have a good side?"

"Of course. Everyone has a good side."

Ben appeared skeptical. "Maybe you could do something to impress him," he suggested.

"Tried that. That's how I lost my hand."

Ben was silent for a while, but he clearly wasn't having any more ideas. "Sorry, Luke. With my father, he always gets over any disagreement we have within an hour or so."

"An hour? Oh boy. You're so lucky."

"I take about a day," Ben admitted.

A librarian droid looked in their direction, and they quickly put their heads down, resuming their work. There was a large sign above the study tables which had the word 'quiet area' underlined several times. Luke couldn't concentrate, though. Ben was writing like his life depended on it, but Luke couldn't even think of the first sentence to start this political studies essay.

"I'm going for a walk," he said finally, and pushed his chair away from the table.

"Uh huh," Ben mumbled, not pausing.

The library was huge, encompassing about twenty floors. They were currently on the sub-adults floor, and the wall he happened to pass was covered with flashing holoposters of various celebrities, urging them all to read. He only recognized a couple of the faces—on Tatooine, they had been about a century behind the rest of the galaxy.

Suddenly, all the posters changed to the Imperial logo, and words flashed to inform him that this message was brought to him by the Imperial Board of Public Education."

"Bored of education is right," Luke mumbled, turning away. He found himself facing another glowing sign, but this one let him know he was in the 'family self-help' section. A strange coincidence—that was exactly what he needed help for. Although he doubted they would have anything about living with a bad-tempered Sith Lord.

Twenty minutes of browsing later, he experienced an odd premonition that he'd found something that might just be of use. The cover was silly, blaring that it was written by some guy at the first University of Coruscant. But the title sounded like it was written just for him—Understanding Your Parents.

"We better get going."

Luke turned to find Ben walking up beside him.

"What have you got there?"

"Oh, just a databook," he said, pocketing it. He'd have to get it out on loan.

"Ha," Ben mumbled, noticing the flashing 'read' posters. "More like 'Read — what we tell you!"

"Why so bitter?" Luke asked, following his friend back to their study table. "Did a teacher confiscate one of your books again?"

"No. I wanted to read the book on which Black Hole World was based, but a library droid told me it was on the banned list because of 'subversive themes'. I hate the Imperial Censorship Board."

Ben hastily looked around after his words. "Don't tell my father I said that," he said, quickly. "He'd kill me."

Luke fell asleep with the databook resting on his bedside table. It hadn't turned out to be very useful—most of it presupposed the reader was dealing with a father who actually stopped working at some point during their day. Some chapters had discussed ways to deal with physically abusive or alcoholic parents, which left him feeling like he was complaining over nothing. There were many people who had it far worse than him.

That was the last thing he remembered thinking about before drifting off. It made little sense, then, that five hours later, he woke in the midst of a frightened sweat.

The nightmares had returned.

The darkness of his bedroom felt like it was closing in around him, like the shadow of his aunt and uncle's murderer. He jumped out of bed and ran for the door, desperate to get out. The ship hangar would still be lit at full brightness, and he could work on one of his repair projects.

Anything to avoid going back to sleep.

Vader looked up in surprise when he sensed a familiar presence. Through the windshield of the ship he was modifying, he watched as a pajama-clad Luke exited one of the hangar bay elevators. It was just after two in the morning according to the ship's chronometer, far too early for the boy to be out of bed. Was he sick? Was his new hand causing him pain? Vader discarded his tools and moved to the ship's exit ramp. He reached the ground just as Luke was walking past, causing his son to jump in surprise.

"I ... I didn't know you were down here," he mumbled.

"Why are you awake?" Vader asked.

"I couldn't sleep."

"And you expect to sleep while roaming the building?" Vader enquired.

"I had a nightmare," Luke explained, staring at the floor.

Vader stared blankly, knowing there was some action he was supposed to take in response to this situation, but he really had no idea exactly what. Was he supposed to invite Luke to discuss it? But reminding him of it might make it worse. Perhaps he was supposed to take the boy back to his bed and make him go to sleep. If Luke's doctor were here, he would be shaking his head in disappointment and offering him another book.

"I am modifying this ship's sublight controls," he said, finally. "You may sit in the cockpit and watch, if you wish."

Luke followed him up the ramp but didn't spare a glance at the circuits and tools. He curled up in the co-pilot's seat and hugged his knees, shaking slightly. Whether it was from cold, or the residual stress of his nightmare, Vader didn't know. He resumed his work, easily picking up where he'd left off.

Ten minutes later, Luke mumbled something Vader didn't catch.

"If you wish to communicate with me, you will need to remove your hands from your mouth," he suggested.

Luke did so. "I said, I'm sorry."

"What have you done now?" Vader asked, glancing over. He was almost dreading the answer.

"For destroying your dueling droids."

"They have already been replaced," Vader explained. "The new ones have been upgraded with safety features."

Silence resumed. Vader was just beginning to reach the stage where he could start locking all the circuits back in position, when Luke spoke up again.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"I have nothing to say to you about that incident, which I have not already said."

Luke was quiet in response, and Vader hoped the conversation was over. He didn't know if he could trust himself to restrain his temper if Luke insisted on discussing it again. A different subject was his next target, though.

"Yesterday, it was two months since I moved in," Luke said.

"It feels longer," Vader said, splaying a wire.

"I was just thinking that I can't believe it's been that long. I still feel like I hardly know you."

"You are better off not knowing anything you do not know about me."

It did raise an interesting question, though. How much knowledge had he gained about his son during the last two months? To be fair, he had probably only been here for half that time. And he had made some progress—he was no longer as uncomfortable around the boy as he had been. And he had learned to block out much of the boy's glowing presence which intruded on his meditation ability. Apart from the occasional snag, they were co-existing in harmony.

"I was wondering if you regretted letting me stay with you," Luke said, fidgeting with one of his pajama shirt buttons.

"What?" Vader rotated his chair so he was facing Luke. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," Luke said, still staring intently at the button. "Sometimes it feels like you're not happy with me."

Vader turned back to his circuit. "As long as you do not interfere with my work and stay out of trouble, you meet with my approval."

"Am I interfering with your work now?" Luke asked, sounding sincerely worried.

Vader had to fight to restrain from sighing. "I was speaking of my duties to the Empire. You must not interfere with those, at all costs. The incident with the dueling droids came very close to doing so."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. But you must try hard to ensure that it does not happen again. You are here because the Emperor, by his grace, is allowing you to be here. If the Emperor should think that you are a distraction to me, he may change his mind about allowing you to remain here. That must be avoided. Do you understand?"

"I ... I think so."

Luke sounded frightened. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to be discussing this, after the boy was already upset over his nightmare, but it couldn't be helped. Besides, his fear might help drive the message home.

"I won't cause you any more trouble," he added. "I'll try my best."

"There is trying ... and then there is doing," Vader said.

"I'll do my best, then," Luke said, resolutely.