Edited 5/23/2005: Not many changes here aside from grammar/spelling/formatting. The next chapter will have an entire section re-written though, so that might take me slightly longer.

Author's Notes: A lot more was suppose to happen in this chapter, but it got so long, and took so long to write, that I've had to leave some of the action for the next chapter. I hate it when my stories feel rushed. Looks like this is going to be a good deal longer then I had originally planned.

I'm rather worried that Palpatine is going to come across as a bit corny, but I guess there are only so many ways you can write the Emperor and still have him in character.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you're all awesome.

As for Kenobi rescuing Luke: Yeah, that does seem to happen a lot in this sort of story. I think that's overused. Don't worry, this will be different.

Never underestimate Darth Vader's inability to use contractions.

Broken Wings

Chapter Three

Luke walked through the halls of the Imperial Palace next to the foreboding form of Darth Vader, his... father. Everything he had see and learned since awakening was incredible, almost beyond belief for a poor Tatooine farm-boy, but somehow, he didn't feel amazed. He was terrified. Something about this place just felt wrong, as if there was some horrible, near tangible, miasma of darkness touching everything.

The shuttle ride had been unpleasant. He'd wanted to get a chance to ride in a real spaceship for most of his life, but with Darth Vader seated next to him, and painful memories echoing in his mind it was less enjoyable then he had imagined. Vader himself had told him only a few things. Luke was Vader's son, and he had been hidden from his father and the Emperor by someone named Obi-Wan because of something called "the force". Luke hadn't understood that particular part of the explanation, and Vader had said that the Emperor would "enlighten" him, whatever that meant.

As unpleasant as the shuttle ride had been, the palace itself was much worse. They had landed on a private platform, where Luke had gotten his first real glimpse of Coruscant. It was amazing, almost beyond comprehension. Buildings loomed in the distance towering taller then he would have thought possible, and all the while thousands of ships, speeders and other transports zoomed every which way. The city seemed to be constantly moving, all except for the area surrounding the palace, and that was deathly still.

Vader had guided him into the building itself where a group of red-cloaked guards waited to escort them. The palace itself was an amazing structure of marble columns and massive windows with hallways and open areas so massive that Luke could have sworn the entire town of Anchorhead could have fit inside.

The palace was far from empty, though still eerily quiet. People moved with careful steps, and conversations were hushed. The servants scurried with downcast eyes and even the movements of droids seemed strangely hushed. Other people, in fine clothing, talked in small groups, some of them looked arrogant, most just looked nervous. Their conversations came to a halt as Vader approached.

Eyes followed Luke as he walked and he suddenly felt the bizarre urge to grad Vader's gloved hand. A little girl in a white dress with brown hair in braids caught Luke's gaze. She gripped the clothing of the dark-haired man who stood next to her and watched as they passed. Just before Luke stepped out of sight she seemed to mouth "good luck", but it might just have been his imagination.

Darth Vader came to a halt in front of a pair of huge, engraved doors. The guards, frightening figures in red robes carrying staves, moved to flank the entrance. It was clear they weren't going inside.

"Enter," a harsh voice said from within. As soon as the word was spoken, the doors swung open. Vader began to move forward and Luke followed, afraid of being left behind.

"How did he know we were there?" Luke whispered as they crossed the threshold. Vader didn't answer.

The room was huge, but remarkably simple compared to rest of the palace. Windows stretched several stores high just beyond a platform with a chair on it. A figure sat in the chair, stooped inside a black cloak. It feel wrong to Luke. Whatever that thing was, it was evil. He could almost feel the darkness stretching out from it. He wanted to run away, but he was too frightened.

Vader approached and then dropped to one knee, bowing his head. Luke just stood and stared at the thing on the throne.

"Well, Boy?" The Emperor said rising from his seat. His voice made Luke think of metal being dragged across stone. "Kneel before your new master." When Luke just stood there, defiantly, he cackled. "A fascinating specimen, you've brought me, Lord Vader." He sounded amused. "You should have taught him better manners."

"Yes, my master." Vader said, not rising.

The Emperor approached Luke slowly, pulling the cowl back from his features. His face looked wasted, the skin looked papery, and his eyes seemed to hold an odd yellowish tint.

Luke stepped backwards involuntarily as the Emperor drew closer. The Emperor regarded Luke for a moment before speaking, his voice oddly soft. "My appearance disturbs you, does it? The price of power, I am afraid. I will show you. Now kneel!"

Luke felt something press down on his shoulders, dropping him painfully to the floor. He felt the impact in his knees. He tried to stand back up but found he could not. Luke got a glimpse of Vader getting to his feet before his nose was almost pushed into the floor.

"You were right about the boy, Lord Vader. He will be very powerful, when he is properly trained, of course." The Emperor's robes were now so close to Luke, that he could see the rough material from which they were made. Underneath mounting terror, some part of Luke noticed that they looked like something he would have expected to see back home on Tatooine, not here, in the heart of the Empire.

Home...

Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!

"I will see to his training, my master." Vader said, from out of Luke's line of sight.

"No," the Emperor sounded thoughtful now. "At least, not at first." He turned to address Luke. "Stand up, Boy!"

Luke felt the pressure from his shoulders ease and he scrambled to his feet. The Emperor watched him, grinning unpleasantly. "Well, Boy? What do you say?" Luke stared back, angrily. He didn't understand what was going on, but some part of him knew not to do what this old monster said.

The Emperor laughed again. "He is stubborn, Lord Vader. He will be difficult to break."

Luke barely had time to wonder why the Emperor sounded so pleased before a bolt of blue lightening struck him in the chest, knocking him back to the floor. Luke felt the most horrible pain he had ever experienced lancing through his body. He jerked under the power of the lightening. He felt himself screaming. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the torture stopped.

Luke looked past the Emperor to his father. Why wasn't he helping him? Why didn't Vader try to him stop the Emperor?

"Do you expect your father to help you? He is mine, my young apprentice, as are you now."

Luke felt his anger surge up to replace his fear and confusion. He wanted to hurt this monster.

"It was good you brought him to me, Lord Vader. See how he reaches for the darkside? He will be very useful." The Emperor crouched down next to Luke. He grabbed Luke's hair and pulled back his head, drawing closer until he was only a few inches from Luke's face. "Most useful indeed."

"Hey guys, look up there!" He squinted against the harsh sunlight at his newest discovery, high up on the cliff face. "I think I see something!" His best friend moved closer to get a better look.

"I don't see anything." Biggs gazed up at the cliff side.

"No, it's there just give it a second." Something up on the cliff shifted. "See! Hey, Coric, Tullen, Brake! Look what I found!"

"Looks like some kind of bird." Biggs backed away from the cliff slightly. "I dunno, Luke. Might be dangerous. It is kinda big."

"What do you have there, Luke?" Brake was the first to arrive, Tullen and Coric followed soon after.

"Some kind of lizard?" Coric asked, squinting.

"No, it has wings." Tullen said, trying to get a better look by climbing onto a rock.

"It still looks like a lizard, a winged lizard. Leave it alone, Luke." Coric turned away, and began to go back to the speeder.

"Yeah, Coric's right, leave it alone." Tullen said as he jumped off the rock and went to follow Coric.

"Come on Coric, give me a boost. I wanna see what it is!" Luke called, already looking for hand holds.

"No, you'll hurt yourself."

"Please."

"No."

"Please!"

"No!"

Luke sighed. "How about you, Brake?"

"I dunno, Luke," the awkward teenage said, looking uneasy.

"You'd better not, Luke, he'll drop you," Biggs said, snickering.

Brake shot him a nasty glare. "Okay, come here, I'll help you."

"Thanks!" Luke said as Brake held out his hands for him to step on.

"What do you see up there, Luke?" Biggs called.

"It's a bird, an ugly bird. Looks like it's just a baby. There are all sorts of broken eggshells up here, and it looks like a nest."

"Luke, you'd better get back down here. What if the mother comes back?"

"Just a second, I wanna get a closer look."

"Luke! Be careful! That rock doesn't look stable."

"I just wanna get a little closer." The rock beneath his foot gave way, dropping him to the hard stone below.

"Ow."

"Luke! You okay?"

He looked at his friends, all surrounding him with fear in their eyes, and grinned. "I'm fine. You guys should have seen that thing! It was so weird. Do you think it comes from off-planet?"

Biggs just looked at him in shock. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yup, I'm fine," he said, jumping up to demonstrate.

"Jeez, Luke, you must be the luckiest person I've even met. That fall could have killed you."

"It wasn't so bad."

Biggs laughed. "Don't you have any common sense at all?"

"Hey, Uncle Lars? What're you doing?"

"I'm fixing the vaporators… trying to fix the vaporators."

"Can I help?"

"No, you wouldn't know what to do."

"Can you teach me?"

"Not now, Luke, I'm busy."

"Please Uncle Lars, I can help, I really can."

"No, not now."

"Please"

"Oh all right, come here. The problem with fixing vaporators it that there are all kinds things that can go wrong with them. Sometimes I spend more time trying to find the problem then I do fixing it.

"Now, you see these tubes? No, Luke, don't touch them, they're hot right now."

"Okay."

"The most common problem is when the heat makes the tubing shift out of alignment...

He awakened from a disturbed sleep to the pitch blackness of his quarters. He remained still for a moment, trying to remember what his dreams had been. One stood out clearly; his first trip to Coruscant, and his first meeting with the Emperor. He had thought he had stopped having that nightmare. There had been so many other worse ones to replace it. The first meeting had likely been one of his least painful encounters with the Emperor, yet for some reason it stayed in his mind and haunted his nightmares.

The others dreams were less clear; abstract terrors and vague memories of Tatooine. He tried to remember more of his dreams of home, but found he could not. All he had from those dreams were vague pleasant feelings. He tried to hold on to that for as long as he could.

When even the shadows of the dreams had faded away, he shifted out of his bed, feeling his muscles protest. He and his father had been practicing lightsaber combat the day before. It seemed that no matter how much he practiced and improved, his father was always one step ahead of him, and he was not inclined to take these things easily. The previous session had been particularly bad.

Nevertheless, he still preferred the lessons his father taught to the ones he received from the Emperor. He shuddered, reminding himself the Palpatine was on Coruscant, and he was here, on the Devastator, hopefully as far away from the galactic core as possible.

The last time he had seem the Emperor had been just before he and Vader had left Coruscant on this most recent mission. If anything the Emperor had looked even more wasted then before. Palpatine had all but ignored him while giving his father instructions, only to announce, just before dismissing them, that his training was coming to end, and he would soon be given the title of "Darth", and a new name.

The news, which should have brought him, at the very least, relief, had only disturbed him. His name was one of the few things he had kept with him. Even though no one ever called him by it, it still held some meaning to him. To Vader he was "My Son", to the Emperor he was "My Apprentice", or sometimes just "Boy". The imperial officers called him "My Lord", or "Vader's lapdog" when they thought he couldn't hear them. To the rebels he was... as far as he knew, any rebels who had gotten close enough to him to even know he existed, were dead. Perhaps the spies in the imperial senate or noble houses had reported his existence, the same spies that they had been sent to intercept.

No, he had no doubt that the rebellion had heard of his existence. He had attended enough imperial functions to be seen by people suspected of being spies. If they knew about him, did they know he was Vader's son? Even the crew of the Devastator seem uncertain whether the designation signaled an actual blood relationship, or if it was some sort of "Sith thing".

Few people knew his name, and no one but the Emperor and his father knew he was a Skywalker. But to himself he was still Luke, as much as he was anything else. Why, he wondered, did such a small thing bother him so much?

He stood from the bed and walked to the windows, the near total absence of light not hampering his movement at all. He often kept his quarters in darkness, it felt appropriate.

Outside he could see the wreckage of a recent battle. He had been asleep, the death cries of those lost in combat hadn't disturbed him, he was used to them.

No more then a couple of years ago he would have been excited about the prospect of battle, more then ready to take his own TIE advanced out into the fray. Now even piloting held little interest for him. He was tired, listless, he slept often when he did not have other assignments.

He watched imperial salvage crews sift through the remains, though what they hoped to find amidst this wreckage was beyond him.

He felt a mental nudge - his father was calling him. The summons wasn't urgent, he had time to change. He ordered his quarters, glancing momentarily at the tray of uneaten food, before deciding to ignore it.

As he entered the fresher the light automatically came on and he caught a brief glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He winced, turning away. Years spent almost exclusively on star destroyers had left his skin pale. Sandy blond hair fell into pained blue eyes. The scars on his chest was a mementos from some of Palpatine's lessons.

"Twisted old sadist." he muttered to himself, and then quickly banished the thoughts from his mind. Neither Vader nor the Emperor were likely to be able to read his thoughts just then, but old habits died hard. He knew he wasn't capable of hiding his thoughts from either of them. He strongly suspected that part of his education had been intentionally neglected.

He bathed and dressed. As always his clothing was black, tunic, pants, boots, gloves, and cloak. He rarely wore any other color, except when the Emperor sent him on assignments that required subtlety. Luke hated being ordered to act as an assassin, but the Emperor seemed only too willing to take advantage of having a both force-sensitive, and relatively unknown operative at his disposable.

He felt another call from his father, this one a little stronger. He pulled the cowl of his cloak up over his face. He took his lightsaber from the table next to the door, holding it in his hands for a moment, remembering when his father had brought him the corsuca gem and told him it was time to construct a lightsaber. He had been twelve, he had practically worshiped his father then, and he had been overjoyed. Over the years his feelings for the man that had taken him away from his home, that had ordered the deaths of his aunt and uncle, had changed. But than he had changed, he was no longer a frightened child trying to hold on to whatever stability his suddenly overturned life offered.

He clipped the weapon to his belt and walked out the door.

The crew of the Devastator gave him a wide berth as he strode through its halls. He had long since become used to the fear that imperial officers had for him. Sometimes it seemed as strong as the fear they held for his father. Perhaps because he was a relative unknown. People certainly seemed to fear that which they did not understand. While those who displeased Vader met sudden and public deaths, the few that had seriously displeased him, only a few years before, had met quiet, mysterious deaths. Though he hadn't been responsible for all of them, those deaths somehow made the officers more fearful of him then if he had simply taken a page out of his father's book and strangled the men in public.

When he was younger he had felt a strange malicious glee at such times, a release from ever present pain and anger. It was childish cruelty, a boy torturing an insect. Now he felt... it wasn't guilt, those men's lives had meant nothing to him, they had deserved far worse then he had given them. The emotion was something else.

He did not mourn for the dead, he had long since become accustomed to death.

Would he mourn for his father? The question was odd, seemingly coming out of nowhere, but the answer was obvious.

Yes, he would. He would morn him and no one else.

His father had never been anything even approaching loving, he was hard and strict, but never cruel, not to Luke at any rate. At times he had seemed almost protective, but Luke was willing to discount that as a product his own imagination. Vader had, after all, only stood by and watched as the Emperor... memories of blue lightening filled his mind.

He cleared his thoughts as he entered the bridge, sensing Vader's familiar presence. His father was prowling next to the main view screen. The some of the imperial officers looked up, before quickly averting their eyes. Luke didn't need the force to feel their unease at his presence. He could feel some of their thoughts. Being in the same room with one is bad enough, but both? He almost laughed.

He felt his father reach out and search his mind.

After all this time you still don't trust me, Father? He asked through the force. Vader didn't answer.

"Well Captain?" Vader asked, once Luke stood at his side, "Make your report."

The captain almost squirmed under Vader's gaze. Luke didn't blame him, he could feel his father's displeasure. The captain drew a slow breath. "Yes, Lord Vader. We came upon the rebel forces at approximately 0600 hours. We destroyed their escort with minimal losses, but the main ship eluded us. It jumped to hyperspace soon after the battle began."

"You mean they escaped, Captain." Vader said, looming over the now clearly terrified officer.

"Why wasn't the tractor beam used?" Luke asked, he didn't know why they were bothering. He already knew how this was going to end.

"There-there wasn't time," the captain stuttered.

"In other words, it didn't occur to you," Luke said, feeling confirming fear from the captain.

"You have failed me," Vader said, stepping forward. The captain blanched.

Deal with him.

Luke heard his father's mental voice. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was certainly new. Was it a test? He didn't want to kill the captain. Was Vader testing his loyalty? He lifted his hand and closed his eyes, opening himself to ever present anger; anger at the Empire for the loss of his aunt and uncle, anger at the Emperor for his pain, at the rebellion for drawing out the war. He felt the force surge up to meet him. Now, he wanted to kill the captain.

He reached out with the force. He could force-strangle the man, like his father would have done. No, he didn't want to feel the man die slowly. Instead he reached out with the force and snapped his neck.

A loud crack resounded off the walls, and the captain collapsed.

He lowered his arm slowly. He opened his eyes and made himself stare emotionlessly at the corpse as guards came to drag it away. He felt neither approval nor disapproval from his father. Had it been a test? Had he passed?

Luke watched as his father appointed Commander Turres as the new captain. The man seemed more nervous than pleased at the promotion.

"Come with me," Vader said to Luke as he turned to leave the bridge. Luke followed, wanting to ask his father about their mission, suddenly curious, but he knew that Vader would tell him what he decided he should know and nothing more. He was not inclined towards answering questions.

"We have received intelligence that a ship bearing the stolen plans will be meeting with a group of rebel fighters. We will be waiting for the rebel escort. I will need you to interrogate some of the prisoners."

"Yes, Father." Luke answered calmly as he winced inside. His father knew how much he disliked interrogations. Another test?

"Afterwords, we are to report to the Death Star. We will continue your training there."

"The Death Star? Tarkin's pet project?" Luke looked towards his father as they continued through the halls, he sensed some trace of his father's emotions through whatever technique Vader used to shield his thoughts. "You don't approve; of Tarkin, the Death Star, or both?"

"My personal feelings on then matter are not relevant. Nor," He said, turning to Luke and raising a finger. "Should yours be. Is that understood?"

"Yes Father," Luke replied. The moment the words left his mouth he felt an odd shimmer through the force, it felt something like a premonition. Vader appeared not to have noticed.