Chapter II

By the time their oblivious quarry had finally reached his destination, the boys' spy game had long since worn thin. They were tired and sticky with sweat, and judging from the positions of the suns, they were bound to be in for good tongue-lashings when they got home.

"Well," Biggs said hopefully, "at least we know where he lives. Let's go home before Dad comes looking for me. Last time I stayed out late, I was scrubbing the refresher for a month."

"I'm going in," Luke announced, stepping out from the shadow of the vaporator they'd been hiding behind.

"What? Don't be an idiot, Luke!"

"He's my father. He's not going to hurt me."

"You don't know he's your dad, Luke!"

"You're just scared." Luke walked toward the house, whose dingy gray stone walls were flaking and cracking with age. Rusting speeder shells and droids gutted of any and all useful components cluttered the ground around the small building, and a battered hoverbike lay to the side of the entryway. The stranger stopped at the door, set his bags down, and wiped his forehead, obviously unused to the heat.

/Dad, I missed you/ Luke thought, edging closer.

Anakin didn't even seem to notice him. He retrieved his packages and vanished within the building's shadowy interior. Without a second thought Luke plunged in after him.

"Luke!" hissed Biggs, scurrying after him. "If your uncle finds out about this, you're in big trouble..."

The two boys stopped short. The inside of the house was as cluttered as the outside, and it stank to boot. The odors of droid oil, battery acid, decaying metal, rancid cleaning agents, and scorched circuits clogged their nostrils with every breath they took. The sole light source was a dust-dimmed glowrod hanging from the center of the ceiling. Anakin himself looked just as ill-kempt as his surroundings patched robes, greasy disheveled blond hair, a haggard face with dark half-moons beneath his ice-blue eyes. He dropped his groceries and computer parts on a ratty-looking sofa, then rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily before sitting on the floor and taking a deactivated pit droid from a pile of machinery to inspect it.

"Eww," Biggs whispered. "He must be your dad. His house looks like your room."

"You haven't even been in my room," Luke countered. "Shut up."

If Anakin heard them, he gave no sign. He turned the battered droid over in his hands, muttering to himself all the while.

/He looks like me, anyway. And he must like droids, since they're all over the house./ But how else could he tell if this man was his father? Should he just jump out and make his presence known? Or did Anakin even know he had a son...

Luke froze. A harsh sound, one horribly familiar to any citizen of the Empire, resounded in his ears, making him and Biggs freeze and Anakin whirl to face the doorway.

A doorway where a foreboding silhouette now stood.

Vader had the pleasure of seeing this imposter blanch at the sight of his mask, of seeing the flash of recognition in the man's eyes. So his reputation as a slayer of Jedi was not lost on this man. And now he recognized him a former Jedi Knight, one who he had met on occasion in the corridors of the Jedi Temple. Why he would choose to take on the name of Anakin he did not know... but would soon find out.

"Anakin Skywalker," he rumbled, stooping just low enough to enter the hovel. "At last I have found you."

The Jedi dropped the droid he was holding and stood, fumbling for his weapon. He had the blond hair and blue eyes of Anakin, yes, but his features were only a reasonable facsimile of the man's. Vader got the impression that he wasn't attempting an outright impersonation, but had simply adopted the name to hide his own identity.

"We have things to discuss, you and I," Vader went on.

A flash of terror entered Vader's thoughts… but strangely, it didn't come from the man standing before him. Was the man harboring a Padawan? He'd have to search the house once he was through with the fake Anakin.

"H-how did you f-find me?" the imposter stammered, at last jerking his weapon out of his robes.

"I have my ways," Vader replied, igniting his saber. "You will come with me, or you shall suffer the consequences…"

A blur of white streaked into his field of vision, and a small wiry body slammed into his legs, almost knocking him over. Surprised, he looked down to see a young boy gripping him around the legs, kicking his shins for all he was worth and screaming hysterically. But what stunned Vader was how strong this child was in the Force – he seemed to glow with it!

"Run!" the boy cried. "I got him distracted! Run!"

The Jedi's eyes went wide. Evidently this boy was no apprentice of his.

"Run!" he repeated, continuing to kick the Sith. "I'm Luke Skywalker! You're my father!"

/Father/

The boy gazed up into Vader's face, terror coming across his features as he suddenly realized exactly what he was doing. His eyes – blue as the noon sky and filled with the fire of strong-headed adventurousness – were instantly familiar. The face, totally open to the world, as yet unmarked by the harshness of his homeworld, brought back memories of another young boy who'd called Tatooine home so long ago. But there was a certain set to his mouth that called to mind another face, another name…

This was his son. Padme had been pregnant when he'd left her. This was their child.

The false Anakin looked at Luke, then at Vader. Then he bolted out the door.

Luke took advantage of Vader's moment of stunned inaction to ram his head into his stomach. Vader doubled up, the wind knocked out of him, and the boy took off after the imposter.

Anakin didn't stop until they had reached the outskirts of Anchorhead, by which point Luke was exhausted. He collapsed behind a power generator and gasped for breath. Anakin flopped down beside him and rested his head on his knees, panting.

"You okay, Dad?" Luke asked earnestly.

Anakin nodded. "I'm fine, Luke… thanks to you."

Once he'd caught his breath, Luke spent the longest time staring at his father – his father! He was sitting by his father at last! Sure, he didn't look exactly as Luke had pictured him, but he could forgive that. It was enough to be able to talk to him at last.

The man returned Luke's stare. For some reason, he looked confused. Had he suffered a loss of memory? But something seemed to click in his mind, as if he'd just come to a decision, and he smiled warmly.

"Luke, it's been so long," he said warmly. "I missed you."

Luke threw his arms around Anakin and buried his face in his robes. "Dad, I missed you so much! Where were you?"

"Hiding."

"From Vader?"

"Yes. I never thought he'd find me here… but you saved me. Oh, Luke…" He pulled away and held Luke at arm's length, smiling. "How's your mom?"

Luke hesitated. "I… don't live with her," he said, puzzled. "I live with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru…"

"Oh, that's right," said Anakin, snapping his fingers. "They agreed to take you on while your mom went into hiding."

"Mom's alive too?"

"She was the last time I talked to her. But it's been so long… I don't know if she's still alive, son."

Luke hugged him again. "At least I have you, though."

Anakin shrugged Luke off and stood. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up on the transport, son. Right now, we've got to get off this planet."

"Why?"

He pointed in the direction of the house. "You know why. Vader's after me, and nothing's going to stop him. If we don't leave Tatooine now, he'll find us… and kill us both."

Luke gulped. "All right. Can we go to Uncle Owen's first and tell them what's going on…"

"Oh, no, no, no, son," Anakin said hastily. "We can't do that. We have to get away, far away, as fast as we can." Seeing the look of disappointment on Luke's face, he added, "We can send them a message as soon as we get settled down someplace obscure."

"Okay," Luke said unsurely.

"C'mon son, we're burning daylight." He jerked his head in the direction of Mos Eisley and began to walk off.

Luke turned to look back at Anchorhead, unexpected feelings of fear and sadness welling up inside his chest like a fountain of dark water. He'd hoped his dad would take him home… but without even saying goodbye to his aunt, uncle, and friends? He loved them, too, and he didn't want to just up and leave them…

But then, if Vader was chasing his father, staying to say goodbye could be dangerous. He sniffed back the urge to cry and put on a brave face.

"Luke, let's go!"

"Coming, Dad!" He jogged after his father.

A thorough search of the shabby house turned up two objects of considerable interest – a password-locked datacube that had obviously been used as some kind of journal, and a dark-haired boy who'd been cowering behind a heap of droid parts. The latter sat on the tattered couch now, mute with terror, staring at Vader as he paced the main room like a caged sand panther, deep in thought.

"Perhaps you can explain what you and your friend were doing here," he rumbled.

"I-I-it was Luke's idea," sputtered the boy. "H-he wanted t-t-to follow the guy here… w-we were j-just playing around… sir…"

"And why did Luke choose this man in particular to follow?" Vader inquired, backing the question up with a planted suggestion.

"L-luke lives with his aunt and uncle," he replied, his voice losing some of his stutter as the Force-probe took effect. "H-he heard this guy… had the same name as his dad did… thought it might really be his dad…" He stared pointedly at his feet. "Sir."

Vader pondered this information. It sounded as if someone – either Padme or someone close to her – had taken Luke to Tatooine and entrusted him to his half-brother Owen. But to think that Luke wanted to seek out his father… He smiled unexpectedly, oddly pleased at that.

"Please, sir," the boy whimpered, "let me go home… Mom and Dad are probably worried sick…"

Vader gestured for him to leave. "I would suggest you cease your spy games, child. The next person you trail could be your last."

The boy scrambled away.

Vader examined the datacube in his hand, suddenly not quite as interested in its contents. He had a son… an heir to the Skywalker name. A possible protégé, perhaps? He didn't think the Emperor would be averse to his taking on an apprentice. And he was around the right age – young enough to quickly absorb the teachings, yet old enough to have experienced emotion… especially the emotions that fed the dark side.

But his son was in the company of the imposter. And what more, he believed said imposter to be his father. He clenched his fist around the datacube. His search for the false Anakin Skywalker had suddenly become much more complicated.