A Light Foreshadowed
Part Two
Progress through the Endor Forest was a little easier than Han had initially thought. A few short clicks from the landing zone the squad had come across a path, or sorts, through the woods. Trampled vegetation and packed, worn dirt meandered through the sky scraping trees making the Rebels' progress a little easier - especially for the two droids who quietly bickered at the back of the line. However, Solo was unsure if the path was made by an indigenous life form, or by the Imperials stationed here to guard the Death Star's deflector shields. And so they moved cautiously, but steadily, heading confidently toward their target.
Beside him Leia stumbled on a protruding root and Han caught her arm keeping her upright. "Watch your feet, Sweetheart." He warned good-naturedly.
"Very funny," Leia commented, glancing up at him as she adjusted her helmet. But Han was looking away, squinting into the forest, signalling for the squad to halt, to get down. He released her arm, drew his blaster, and moved carefully forward with Chewbacca at his side. Leia lifted her own weapon and came up Solo's side as he peered over a fallen log.
"We could go around," Leia suggested as she spotted two troopers and their speeder bikes among the foliage.
"We're on a schedule, remember? This whole party'll be for nothing if they see us." Han's voice was a little tense, but there was something else there, an edge that Leia sadly recognised; an eagerness for some action. It was understandable, given Han's nature, that he would be itching for something to happen. Those months spent in carbonite, the few weeks following his rescue spent cooped up onboard a ship as the Alliance planned for this assault. His grief and anger at Luke's fate needing some release.
Luke? What are you doing now?
"Stay here," Han was saying, as he moved off. "Me and Chewie will take care of this."
"Han!" Leia whispered quickly, trying to warn him. "I think you..." But he was out of earshot, heading for the two soldiers. Leia cursed under her breath watching as Han made his quiet approach. She heard the loud snap of a twig, saw Han glance down at his traitorous feet before being felled by the nearest soldier.
"Go for help! Go!" The trooper shouted to his counterpart before being dragged down by Han. The second soldier ran for his bike, climbed on and gunned his engine. A shot from Chewie's bowcaster brought him down.
Leia scrambled to her feet, heard the rest of the squad respond to the noise, and ran to help Han. A flash of white among the trees stopped her and she gasped a warning, "Two more of them!" as the Imperial's sped off on their speeder bikes. She changed direction, sprinting to an idle bike and scrambled on board.
She didn't hear Han's "Hey, wait!" as she accelerated forward, trees blurring either side as she tore after her quarry. She followed, opening up the accelerator catching up, pulled off a few shots which thudded uselessly into the vegetation.
She did not see the other bikes pull in behind her until a laser shot barely missed her. She twisted the machine, narrowly avoiding a large trunk, to evade the blaster fire. Realising she was out-numbered she pulled the speeder bike into a wide arc, turning through the forest and heading back the way she had come.
The shot hit the side of the bike, knocking Leia off. She flew through the air, landed hard on a bed of leaves and dirt. She lay for a moment gazing up at the blue of the sky, at the Death Star, at a tiny shuttle entering the atmosphere and then a gentle darkness enfolded around her.
"Rise, my friend," Palpatine requested rising from his throne and approaching the towering Dark Lord who had responded to his call. "There was a disturbance in the Force," he stated unnecessarily, though it had been more than a disturbance. It had been a violent vortex, a twisting rush of power that had grabbed and pulled at his senses. It had been fury, it had been desire, and when it cooled, when the torrent had eased, it had been tinged with an impure pleasure. Palpatine knew these feelings well, had often drawn them to him and indulged gleefully. But, this time, the feelings had come from another. It would appear that the boy was surpassing both his, and Vader's, expectations. Which could be a pity if the youth did not tread carefully.
Or, if you do not tread carefully, your Majesty.
Palpatine ignored the mocking tones of his inner voice, the words sounding very much like his youngest pupil, as Vader spoke.
"A small Rebel Force has penetrated the shields and landed on Endor," Vader rumbled, succinctly, knowing he was not directly explaining what had happened. How could he answer, how could he explain to his master his son had embraced the Dark Side of the Force with a vehemence and fervour more akin to Palpatine himself than a Skywalker.
Skywalker?
"Yes, I know," Palpatine informed him, with a bite to his voice. And Vader was unsure if the Emperor was responding to his verbal information or his thoughts about his son.
"My son has gone to them."
Now that was interesting. "For what purpose?" Palpatine quizzed, reaching out to gently stroke Vader's feelings, probing for deception. He found none, but he did find a fleeting impression of disquiet.
"To bring them to you. A gift, Master," the Sith Lord announced. "To prove his fealty to you, and to the Empire."
And just why did Vader find that thought so unsettling? "And do you trust his motives, My Lord?" Still the feather-like touch within the Force.
"I do not," he said immediately, for how could he trust the boy now? Now when the youth's footsteps were firmly on the path of darkness, now when he had travelled further down that path than even his father had dared to walk.
Palpatine pondered this statement, yellow eyes narrowing in anger. "You think he would betray us?" He spat at Vader.
"His designs are unclear, Master," Vader answered truthfully.
Palpatine was quiet; his attention turned elsewhere seeking out the younger Vader. He had known the boy still resisted, still fought against the teachings of his Emperor and father. He also knew the boy had been trying to find his own way through the shadows, trying to keep the glow of light from dimming further; not understanding that the more he tried, the more his steps took him beyond the penumbra of the Force into its very darkest depths. And this made him dangerous; the boy needed to be controlled, not let loosed - just yet.
Palpatine was still, contemplative, considering the future. Then he smiled, his eyes glimmering with delight at the visions which played within. "Your son will return shortly," he told his servant with a chuckle. "And he will bring a guest. Meet them within the hanger bays, remove his prisoner from him and send him back to his fighter. That is his place, and he will learn it."
Vader bowed low, wishing he had Palpatine's inner sight, feeling trapped and torn between his Emperor and his son. "As you wish, my Master."
Han untangled himself from the unconscious body of the Imperial soldier and pushed himself to his feet. Breathing heavily, he glanced around at his squad, counting quickly to ensure they were all still with him. He turned to Chewie as the Wookiee climbed over a fallen log to reach him. "We'll need to move fast now, buddy." He looked around again, and frowned. "Where's Leia?"
Chewbacca barked loudly, gestured toward the forest.
Fear thickened the back of his throat, pooled coldly in his stomach. "She didn't come back?" He glanced up as a shuttle craft crossed the sky. "Shit, Chewie! Come on!" He started to run in the direction Leia had taken. He couldn't lose her again, couldn't lose her to...
...Luke...
Han dismissed the name, the image of his young friend. "Take the squad ahead," he called to his second in command. "We'll meet at the shield generator at oh three hundred. Artoo, Threepio with me!" And he and Chewbacca disappeared into the forest.
"Oh, dear!" wailed the protocol droid, before turning to his counterpart. "And you said it was pretty here!"
Sohn chose to fly the shuttle craft himself and ignored the pilot as he sat silently beside him. Flying gave him something to focus on, to divert his mind, to channel his energies into a task rather than reflection on what had happened on the Death Star. Still, however, his body trembled; his hands still tingled from the power they had conducted. After leaving his father, he had gone to his own quarters, had had to resist running through the corridors. He had been agitated, full of nervous excitement, senses fully stimulated by the incident and by his father's permission to go Endor. And as the doors slid closed behind him, he had quickly stripped from his flight suit and donned the plain, black Imperial dress uniform he preferred.
Leia... he was going for Leia!
He had lifted the mask and helmet, stared at the black facade the Emperor made him wear to hide his features, and smiled, wondering what his Alliance friends...
...friends?
...had thought when they first learned of Sohn Vader. Had they felt horror at the emergence of another Vader? Had his existence strengthened their resolve?
...they know you...
He had shrugged the wandering thought away. How could they possibly know him? Skywalker had died, defeated and lost in front of billions, a humiliating end. Sohn Vader had been introduced months later, features hidden from prying eyes - not even his own men had seen his face. That privilege was the Emperor's and Vader's alone.
...she knows you...
He had put them on, both mask and helmet fitting snugly, comfortably and for the first time he welcomed the disguise. Welcomed being hidden as he hooked his lightsaber to his belt and left his rooms. Welcomed being concealed as he worked his way through the battle station to the shuttle bay; for his emotions ran wild, his spirit danced with anticipation and strength, but his mask's features would remain passive and composed to all who looked upon him. Only his father seemed to know differently, and soon so would the Emperor.
"Shuttle Scandium," Endor Control greeted him, pulling him from his thoughts. "Proceed on approach vector zero zero one-two for landing zone One. Welcome to Endor, Lord Commander Vader. Your men will be waiting for you."
"Thank you," he answered, gruffly, steering the shuttle into the given flight path, watching the moon glow bright in the deepness of space. He opened himself to the Force, reached out and caressed its living presence, searching for one, searching for her and...
... the light was dimmed, tinged with... anger, impatience, fear... and... annoyance...
... Sohn withdrew in surprise. The Princess's feelings were a little wild, a little out of sorts. She seemed anxious, wary and a somewhat afraid. He smiled as he brought the shuttle down onto the landing pad and shut down the engines. Perhaps the Rebel incursion was not going as planned. He drew himself from the chair, glanced at his companion. "Stay with the shuttle," he commanded.
"As you wish, My Lord," the man assented quietly.
Sohn ignored him, trying to focus his thoughts forward. He strode across the landing pad toward the elevators, entered as the doors swept open to admit him. He had to push back his urgency, temper his impatience and his stomach purled with anticipation as the lift dropped to ground level. There was something... someone... waiting...
The doors opened and a young Lieutenant stepped forward to greet Sohn, behind him, assembled in the corridor, stood a contingent of stormtroopers. "My Lord Commander," he sounded excited, eager. The younger Vader walked on not breaking his stride for the man, nor for the packing containers piled to the side of the hallway which the Lieutenant had to carefully skirt around before catching up with his superior. "I have assembled the men as ordered. However, a few moments ago a speederbike patrol returned with a prisoner, and…"
Sohn stopped and turned his mask to face the man, dismay settling bitter in his stomach. "A prisoner? Where are they now?" This wasn't what he wanted, this wasn't what he had planned for.
The Lieutenant gestured to the troopers. "Bring her forward."
...her...
And Sohn glanced to the soldiers as they parted, as one pulled a small figure, clad in green with tousled hair and bound hands, from among the white armour.
...Leia!
He had to temper his sudden urge to run to her, had to pull back the wide grin that threatened to spill onto his face. He wanted to reach out to touch her smooth, dirt smudged cheek. He wanted to brush back the strands of hair that fell over her face. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her close, to lose himself in her presence and her love for him, her love for...
Luke?
His eyes were drawn to her's. And he saw her questions, her puzzlement. He saw her assessment of him, the image of the man before her more familiar to her as a Vader than the Skywalker she knew.
...she knew him...
"My Lord," the officer continued. "We believe she may be the Princ..."
Sohn found his voice. "I am aware of who she is. Our Emperor and my father will be most pleased, Lieutenant." He kept his stare on the princess. "Leave her with me; I shall deliver her to the Death Star myself. Take the troopers to where she was captured. Her companions cannot be far, conduct a search and bring them to me."
"Yes, sir!" He turned with the soldiers; lead them from the corridor leaving the two alone.
Sohn swallowed, suddenly nervous and unsure, feeling like an infatuated farm boy stumped into sudden silence at the sight of his Princess...
"I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you."
... and now he would be forced to deliver her back to where he had found her.
Leia watched the dark figure closely. This man radiated power; her own raw Force senses tingling in his presence. She could feel his strength, his barely restrained emotions that drifted around her, tentatively caressing her feelings. He was as tall as Luke, but his build seemed slighter; muscles trim and tight, but despite this Leia knew he would be physically more powerful than she. But his voice; hoarse and rough, was not Luke's, and she briefly wondered if they had been wrong in assuming this man was their lost Jedi. But, then she noticed the swallow, sensed the hesitation and she knew. She stared at the bland Vader mask, at the exposed chin and mouth, trying to see her friend below its surface, and fought the urge to speak and break the quiet first.
"Welcome to Endor, your Highness," Sohn finally greeted, briefly bowing his head. "I regret that we have not met before now. I am..."
"I know who you are," she told him quietly and firmly, with a hint of anger colouring her words. How dare he, of all people, do this to them!
A slight smile curled his lips. "Of course you do," he agreed, and he wondered what his agreement was to; that she knew he was Sohn Vader, or that he had been Luke Skywalker. It pleased him that she thought she knew him, it relieved him and yet still he was filled with a hollow sadness. She was so close, yet so out of reach.
Leia heard the sorrow in his voice and stepped forward, the question spilling from her before she could stop herself. But, she needed to know, she needed the truth. As much for herself as for Luke. "Is he really your father?"
The question seemed to surprise him and, for a moment, his head dipped as he looked to the floor. Leia had seen this movement before, recognised a moment of vulnerability, Luke often reacted this way when asked a question he found difficult to answer.
The question had startled him, coming so soon in their dialogue, and he hesitated once more. But he could only answer with the truth. "Yes," he drew himself up, caught her eye and dared her to say more.
Leia stepped back from him, staggered back from the truth she could hear in his voice, that she could feel. Vader was his father, Luke was her brother and so… She was the daughter of Darth Vader. She'd had weeks to think of this, weeks in which to prepare herself for this awful confirmation and still it caught her unawares. Nausea rose in her throat, acid gall flooded her mouth and she gagged on the truth; her self-esteem, her identity ground under the heel of honesty.
Sohn caught her arm, pulled her back, alarmed at her reaction. He could feel the Princesses unguarded emotions; the horror and the disgust that washed through her, that threatened to swamp her. Her mind reeled and she tried to fight his touch, tried to wrench her arm from his grip. Her eyes, stricken by the truth, searched his mask for something familiar. He didn't understand why the reality of who his sire was should abhor the Princess and so he acted instinctively; he held her to calm her.
He was too strong and she was caught. She fought to composed herself; to be the senator she once was, and she looked to him, saw nothing of Luke in the visor. She reached a palm to touch his chin, to feel something of her friend - her brother - other than the Vader darkness that threatened to envelop them both. "We've missed you."
He flinched from her touch, from her words. He released her and moved away. "I'm afraid you are confusing me with someone else, your Highness." He told her coolly, his tones betraying nothing of his turmoil. He had wanted her touch, had wanted to feel her warm palm on his face. It was been so long since he had felt such tenderness and its allure was so tempting, but they were too close to Vader, too close to Palpatine. They would know, they would feel his moment of weakness.
She stepped towards him again, swallowing her disquiet at their heritage. "Luke," she persisted. "This isn't you… this isn't what you wanted. I have no idea what happened to you after Hoth, but on Bespin Vader used us to…."
A smile grew on the exposed lips. He knew what she was trying to do, appealing to Skywalker, begging a cold, dead youth to save her. "I am not who you believe me to be."
"You're Luke Skywalker," Leia told him firmly.
"Skywalker is dead, Princess. Surely you saw the broadcast? "
"I saw," she said, sadly. "And I grieved for you, and I'm still grieving for you. Luke, I don't know what has happened to you, I don't know what they did to you, what you must have suffered. I…"
… a trembling hand reaching in darkness, blood blotching the skin. And screaming… begging… voices in my head, all the time… all the time…. Pain searing through me… cackling laughter… and….
"You are my son!"
He grimaced and stepped back from her, closed off the brief surge of memories from those long ago months. He would not recall that time, he could not stumble now. His thoughts had to remain clear and focused.
"Han is with me, Luke. And Chewbacca," Leia continued, seeing him falter and pressing her advantage. "Wedge is flying Red leader. He recognised you - because you purposely gave yourself away. You wanted us to know you, Luke." She hesitated, waiting for a reply, but he was quiet. Taking comfort that he had not denied her words she plunged on. "Luke, we…I can help you come back to us."
Come back…
If only he could, if only he could go back, go back to where his decisions were made and make them different.
And where would he go back to? To when the droids had arrived at the farm - ask Uncle Owen not to choose the blue one? Or to when he had agreed to go to Alderaan with Ben? Perhaps to the Hoth battle and after, make up his mind to ignore Ben's order to go to Dagobah. Or decide to stay with Yoda and complete his training. Or on Bespin, to go after Leia, instead of Vader. Or refuse the Emperor, refuse to bow and be subjected to more torture…..
….but they wouldn't let me die, they wouldn't leave me alone….all the time….always aware….
…come back. It was an alluring thought. They could walk out of here now. Disappear into the forest. No-one could stop him. He could go back. Back with Leia. Back to Han and the others; his squad, the Alliance…
…leave them. Leave his father and the Emperor. Abandon them to their darkness…
…Stay and be safe. Stay and find strength…
…abandon it all to the dark…
He drew himself back, baulked at the simple choice he faced. There was no going back. The decisions were made; this was his path. This was his destiny, and he would not let the Princess turn him from it. This was the only way now. He drew in a breath. "Thank you for giving me details of your companions, your Highness," he stated smoothly, as his feelings cooled. "My father had warned me you would not willingly give us information, it seems he was wrong."
Leia blanched at the cruel words, at the reminder of her ordeal at Vader's hands so few years before…
…my father…
"However," Sohn continued, ignoring the feelings which flared from the Princess; the sudden terror of her memories, and dread for her future, "this is neither the time, nor the place for such a discussion…"
"Luke," Leia stepped forward again, sounding a little desperate, a little distraught. "You don't have to do this; you don't have to take me to them."
He paused for a moment as though considering her words, and a long ago memory surged to the fore….
"And sacrifice Han and Leia?"
"If you honour what they fight for? Yes."
He had to remain calm; he had to draw in his strength for the battle ahead. He had known they would come. He had known he would be confronted by these choices - that was one of the reasons he had come to her, one of the reasons he had sought her out. To test himself, to gauge his readiness for the fight ahead.
…to have her…to hold her… to keep her safe from the coming storms…
He looked to Leia, took comfort from her presence. His choice made. Nothing could dissuade him, nothing would disconcert him, now. Not his father and not….
"I went to the farm," she said softly, feeling his gaze upon her, feeling his resolve and knew that she had failed. This was her last resort, her only way of reaching the man she knew lay buried within the Vader before her. This wasn't how she had wanted to tell him. "I saw what they left."
"It is time to leave, your Highness," he broke in wanting to stop her, not wanting old wounds to split open. He could feel his father's probing feelings, sense his father's growing frustrations. "My father grows impatient." He took her arm, but she pulled back.
"No, Luke!" she snapped, angrily. This time he wouldn't obstruct her, this time she would say her piece and to hell with their father's impatience.
He caught those feelings, caught… something which stirred in his belly, something which caused panic to flutter where once there was calm. "What?" he rasped, trying to grasp the trailing edges of her thoughts.
"I thought I might find you there, find something of you," she was quiet again recalling her disappointment at not sensing her friend within his home.
"Leia… please…." And despite the rough tones; that did sound like Luke.
"I didn't find you, Luke, but I did find us…"
His father was there, his presence growing as Leia spoke. He tried to block him, tried to block her, but she continued oblivious to the dark curiosity.
"I found a holo and some documents from the end of the Clone Wars, hidden in your guardians' room. A woman and two babes, the papers told of your birth and of your twin sister's birth…"
"I have no…. I…. Skywalker has no sister!" Stunned, he stumbled over his words, fighting his swelling fear, fighting Vader's consciousness which slammed into him, powered by a disturbing triumph.
…sister?…
"You do, Luke. I'm your sister."
"No," he groaned as though in pain. He staggered back from her. "Leia…no!" The truth of her words caused heavy dread to gather within him, thick and disruptive. Terror tightly twisted around him and for the first time in many months his fear was not for himself, but for her…
…His sister…
…My daughter…
…and he felt his father retreat from him. Felt Vader's crowing delight, felt his victory, felt his father's…
…horror and guilt, for he had subjected Leia to…
…possessiveness and obsession extend to embrace her, too.
"No!" he cried aloud, staring upward. "You cannot have her!"
"Luke?" Leia stepped forward, again reaching to touch him. She had felt something happening, had sensed feelings of pleasure and horror, but her Force talent was untapped and still new to her.
He opened his eyes, stared at her through the mask as fury ripped through him. How could she be so stupid, so naïve, how could she endanger herself so? How could she think to come here and try to turn him from his destiny with words which made no sense, with words which somehow were still so true, so painful? He batted her hands away, turned from her pained expression and lifted the helmet and mask from his face. He threw them at her and instinctively she caught them, held them.
"Is this what you wanted?" he rasped, facing her. "Is this what you wanted to see?"
She looked at him; saw the cropped dark blond hair, the paleness of his face tinged with the blush of anger, saw the familiar curves of his face. But it was his eyes in which she saw the most detail. Cobalt blue and vibrant with his temper; so full of pain and torment. So full of power, so deep and dark. There was little in them which reminded her of Luke. And for the first time she wondered if her brother had truly been lost to them.
Sohn fought for control. It was becoming too hard; there were too many pressures upon him, too much for him to take on board. His fragile command over events slipping easily from his grasp. It had all been so clear before, he had known what to do, had known even when he had arrived and sensed her presence. But now…
…sister…
The knowledge churned within him, creating a squall of torturous emotions. He didn't know what to do now, didn't know how to react, and didn't know where he should turn. He needed some time; he needed the peace and solace of the Force in which to clear his thoughts. But the Force had deepened and darkened around him like an impending storm and he could feel his powers flaming, building, begging release.
He turned from her, reached out with his arm and, with a roar of grief and anger; he sent the stacked packing crates tumbling up the corridor to smash against the elevator doors. The princess took a startled step backwards.
"Luke?" she questioned hesitantly, suddenly afraid of this familiar stranger. Suddenly understanding how dangerous and unstable Luke had become.
"You have no idea what you've done!" he shouted, breathing heavily his need for release barely sated. He kept his back to her, his voice breaking through his throat. "You don't know the damage you have caused."
"Luke, I only…"
"He knows!" he snarled, suddenly turning around. "He felt it as I felt it. Don't you understand? Vader knows!" He wilted a little, shoulders slumping as though defeated. "And I have to take you there," he whispered thickly, "to our father."
Leia looked to the black mask in her hands and was dismayed to find she was shaking. She drew in a breath trying to steady herself. There were things happening here she didn't understand - couldn't understand; due to her lack of knowledge of and, training in, the Force. She could only be guided by her feelings, her instinct; by what she felt was right. Luke needed her; needed her support and her compassion, needed her strength, her acceptance of their relationship to each other and to Darth Vader. She had to stop fighting him, had to stop trying to persuade him to cease being who he had become. He was struggling with burdens too complex for her to grasp, and she would not force herself to become another to him.
She carefully stepped up to her brother and placed the helmet and mask into his hands. She smiled at the surprise and the suspicion on his face. "My Lord Commander Vader," she said quietly, but with as much authority as she could muster. "If that is what you must do, then I am your willing prisoner."
On board the Death Star, in the middle of a briefing, Darth Vader had turned from Jerjerrod as his son's storming emotions battered at his senses. He tilted his head, shifting his attention from the prattling Moff to his son, curious to know what was happening to further disturb the boy. Sohn was unsure, tight with suppressed feelings of…
..love… wonderment… grief.
He gently probed on, carefully evading Sohn's hastily erected mental defences, working around the buffers the boy tried to throw up. The shields were weak, Sohn distracted and torn, and Vader moved swiftly through to the core of Sohn's disquiet.
…Leia!
So it was the Princess Organa who stirred Sohn so; who brought forth familiar echoes of suppressed emotions and memories. And, there was more… There was a fear, a terror deeper than even Palpatine had caused within the boy. His curiosity fired; Vader explored further, swimming through the churning passions, easily picking up Sohn's thoughts and…
..Sister!
Astounded Vader spun around to face the view port and the Endor moon beyond.
His sister?
There had been a second child!
A daughter! Secreted away and hidden from him as they had tried to do with Luke. The Jedi had failed with the boy, almost succeeded with the girl. Triumph rose within him, a dark satisfaction settling within at the knowledge that Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed in his attempts to keep his children from him. A son, and a daughter! Twins!
Leia!
My daughter!
Pride swelled at images of his other child; she was so strong willed, unshakable in her beliefs, stubborn and…
His jubilation suddenly dropped, felled by a sickening realisation; by memories of a young woman, no more than a girl, being held down by black gauntlets as a dark droid worked. Of a child defeated by grief at the loss of her home, her planet, and who still refused to yield.
Vader closed his eyes behind his mask shutting out the sight of the sanctuary moon, but unable to close off the images of his daughter and his actions towards her; images which further reminded him of his son and the tortures Luke had endured at Palpatine's command, and at his father's hands.
My children…
My son…
Vader withdrew from Luke's consciousness, withdrew from the confused and tormented feelings. Luke's hatred was so strong, self-loathing nestling deep within him; a dangerous and destructive bed-mate. The boy's anger was like a whirlwind, tumultuous, raging, and barely constrained by his tenuous control. Vader knew the pressures were growing within his son, knew Luke's emotional and mental defences were crumbling and that the boy now took pleasure from darkness where he once abhorred it. He could feel Luke's ache, the need for release and he knew that Palpatine was…
… horror rippled through Vader. Palpatine! The Emperor would surely have felt Luke's raging feelings, have picked up the confusion and the fear.
Vader tentatively reached out to find his master's focus and was surprised to find his Emperor at peace. Palpatine's concentration was turned from them, drawn away from Luke, away from the events taking the place. The Force was drawn darkly around the Sovereign, strong and vibrant and yet…
…how strange it was that Palpatine seemed blinded, seemed ignorant of the currents that rushed through the Force, that swelled and crested with his son's emotions, with the passions which Luke seemed willing to embrace…
Perplexed, and unsure of the intentions of the Force, Vader turned to leave the control centre of the Death Star. His daughter's existence belonged only to Luke and himself. His son's growing volatility, his diminishing control and unpredictability concerned him. That the Emperor was unaware of it; pleased him.
"My Lord Vader! " Jerjerrod called, bewildered by his superior's abrupt move to depart. "The report on the Primary Weapon…. If the Rebels are coming as his Majesty has indicated. Then surely we have to…."
"We will proceed as the Emperor has instructed," Vader rumbled, barely hiding the irritation he felt.
Jerjerrod bobbed his head in compliance. "Of course, My Lord."
Vader swept from room, heading directly for the hanger bays. He was eager to meet Luke's shuttle as it landed, eager to greet his daughter. Eager to see how much his Master's myopia hid from him; eager to set in motion the events that would shape the entire galaxy.