Another Route
Part 7
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Luke met his father on the bridge of the Executor at exactly 0800 hours, Coruscant time, two days later. He was dressed in his now-customary clothes—a black tunic, a black surcoat, and black leggings. He was long since past wondering if Coruscant was just short on colored dyes and now accepted his monochromatic wardrobe, only wishing that he had a lightsaber to hang at his belt.
Luke gasped when the viewport showed him his first glimpse of the Galaxy's capital—Coruscant, the planet that was one gigantic city. "How many people live there?" he asked his father, who was watching the scene impassively.
"In the trillions, I would guess," said Vader. "It is of no account."
"Of course not," said Luke, his nervousness for the impending meeting causing him to be sarcastic.
"Remember what I told you," said Vader.
"I know, I know," said Luke wearily. "Don't think too much. Be aware of my shields at all times. Don't lie. Bow when I get there."
Vader said nothing for a few moments until an ensign approached them nervously. "My lord," he said, his shaking hands betraying his emotions. "The shuttle is prepared for your departure, my lord."
Vader turned. "Come," he said, glad for once that his vocoder didn't belie his heaviness.
Luke had never seen anything like Coruscant in his life. Speeders zoomed everywhere and in all directions. As their shuttle drew near to the Imperial Sector, he felt an unexplainable sense of power permeate his bones. He glanced up at his father, who registered his unease. "The Emperor," Vader explained shortly.
Luke fought back the apprehension that he felt in his stomach. He had to be collected when he appeared before the Emperor, he had to be strong. He reached for the Force to calm himself and his father noticed, and did the same.
There was an honor guard of stormtroopers that accompanied them up the steps of an enormous building once they disembarked the shuttle. Vader walked ahead of Luke, his cloak sweeping behind him, aided by the winds of Coruscant.
They were not interrupted as they made the trek to the throne room. Luke wished they had. The power that the Emperor exuded was terrifying, and it chilled him to the core. Was that the ultimate mastery of the Force? Is that what he could become, in time? Some part of him said that it was what he must strive towards, but his other half was sickened by it. Remembering his father's warning, Luke cleared his mind of thoughts and worries just as two men garbed completely in red swung open two large doors.
Vader walked swiftly forward and at the base of a set of steps, bent down to one knee. Luke followed suit, his heart starting to pound despite himself.
"Ah…"
Luke fought the urge to shiver at the voice. It crackled with raw power, but it was also warped, somehow, and grated against his ears.
"Lord Vader, and…young Skywalker. I have much looked forward to this meeting, boy. Stand up."
Luke did as he was told and saw a strangely shaped chair, the visage of a man in black robes hidden in the shadows. He recalled that his father had told him not to speak unless asked a question.
"You have much potential, I sense," said Palpatine. "How goes your training?"
"Well, your highness," Luke said, glad that his voice betrayed none of his emotions. Was that the proper address? Or was he supposed to call the man 'master' like his father did?
"Come now, there is no need for such petty trivialities. I am a Sith, before anything else. Address me as 'master,' young Skywalker."
"Yes, Master," said Luke immediately.
The Emperor let out a slow laugh. "You have coached him well, my friend," he said to Vader, who stood. "He will become a useful servant in time."
"Yes, my master," said Vader, his voice echoing in the chamber.
"I heard of your exploits at Kessel, boy," said the Emperor, turning his attention back to Luke. "You seem to have inherited your father's skill for flying."
Luke didn't know if he was supposed to answer. Would it be rude to agree?
"But the circumstances of your trip to Kessel were most displeasing," The Sith continued. "There was no reason for you to risk your life over a mere guard. See to it that nothing of the sort happens again."
"Yes, my master," Luke said quietly. So it had been wrong of him to try and save Jons' father?
"So, you like your new life with your father, boy?"
Luke was puzzled by the question. Why did it matter? "Yes, master," he replied, confused.
"Do you miss your surrogate family?"
What kind of questions were these? "I regret that they died in the manner they did," said Luke, knowing that it would be a sign of weakness to tell the despot that he longed to go back in time and stop his father from killing Beru.
He laughed, a horrible sound that filled the chamber. "I see. And are you loyal to me, boy? Loyal like your father?"
Luke was sickened for a reason he didn't understand at the question. "Of course, master," he replied.
"I think that you both could use time to focus upon training," said the Emperor suddenly. "Take leave, my friend, and take your son with you."
Vader was puzzled. His master had told him that he had not foreseen requiring his service in the future, but nonetheless, he rarely went off duty. "Yes, my master," Vader said, turning around and striding out of the chamber after a brief hesitation. Luke did the same, feeling the Emperor's eyes on his back the entire time. Once they were once again in the corridor, Luke let out a relieved breath. "That seemed to go all right," he said, reassured.
Vader didn't reply. "Come," he said shortly, using a tendril of the Force to yank Luke forward, who protested.
"I can walk," he said.
"Then do so," said Vader.
Luke sensed that his father was uneasy, which was a very strange emotion for him. "What's wrong?" he asked, jogging to keep up with the Sith's impossibly long strides.
"Do not speak of it," said Vader. Luke attempted a mind probe, and felt himself pushed out of Vader's mind immediately. "Do not even try," his father said, and Luke felt the anger that was always close to the surface begin to boil.
"You do it to me," Luke protested.
"That's different," said Vader as they rounded a corner, heading for the exit of the building.
"How?" Luke countered as they entered the courtyard of the Imperial Palace. A short aide rushed towards them, but father and son ignored him.
Vader didn't reply. He turned to the man beside them. "What?" he barked, enjoying the ripple of fear from the aide.
"Sir—my lord—there is a speeder waiting for you," the man mumbled out in a rush, pale.
"Very well," said the Sith. "Come," he told his son.
"I'm not a dog," Luke said irritably. "If you started walking somewhere, I'd follow you."
The aide gasped out loud at Luke's apparent rudeness, and backed away, clearly expecting Luke to drop dead in a second like those who offended the Dark Lord were wont to do.
"That's enough," said Vader in a low voice. He turned, ignoring the man, and followed his senses to the black speeder that awaited them.
"Black. How surprising," said Luke wearily. "I expected pink. Or orange."
"Get in," said Vader tersely.
"What's your problem?" Luke asked as he climbed in the passenger side, knowing better than to ask Vader to drive. "Normally I'd get even a half-snort from that type of comment."
He seemed to have completely recovered from his meeting with the Emperor, Vader realized. And had now reverted to his annoying self. He, however, was not so reassured by the Emperor's apparent kindness as was his son. "I am concerned that he has given me leave," he said finally, knowing that his son would persist.
"Why? Is vacation so wrong? You're the biggest workaholic in the entire Galaxy," Luke said. "Plus, I want to go see your house. The ship is nice and all, but it gets old."
"My house?" Vader asked, letting the workaholic comment slide. What did his son know? It was he who ran the Empire, not the Emperor. The man who commands the military commands the respect and generates the loyalty. To do so requires time.
"Yes," said Luke, annoyed. "Four walls, a roof. Sometimes has a garden. A kitchen, usually."
Sarcasm was his latest thing, apparently, Vader observed. "Off-duty, I retreat to a world in the Mid-Rim."
Luke's jaw dropped open. "Wait, what? A world?"
"Yes," said Vader, amused. "It is a planet hidden in the path of a Gas Giant. After the last Jedi Council member was disposed of, it was a reward of sorts," he explained. "It is uninhabited."
"Wow!" Luke said, his eyes wide with surprise and shock. "You own a whole world?"
"We have established that. Actually, I own several stars and their systems, but this one is the only habitable one."
"What's it called?" Luke asked eagerly as his father effortlessly guided the speeder through the traffic.
"Bain."
"Wow!" Luke repeated. "Is that where you're going?"
Vader looked at him. "The residence is engineered as an environment entirely composed of oxygen," he told Luke.
"I don't care! I could wear a mask or something!" Luke said.
"I will contact my droids and have them reengineer it," Vader said heavily. "If you want to go there."
"But I could just wear a flight-suit or something!" Luke protested. "Don't do all that."
"And wear a breathing mask for the entire stay?" Vader asked dryly. "Despite appearances, it isn't as fun as it looks."
It took Luke a second to recognize his father's strange sense of humor, and grinned. "I can handle it. Please?"
Vader groaned mentally. "Fine," he said finally, and Luke beamed.
"This is going to be awesome!"
Though they tried to hide it, the crewmembers of the Executor were very, very relieved to learn that Vader was taking leave for an undefined amount of time. They had seen more active duty than most of the ships in the Imperial Navy, and since Vader would not allow his ship to be commanded by anyone but himself it meant that they were all due for the first recess in over a year.
A standard day before Luke's departure for Bain, he managed to escape his room and say goodbye to the pilot trainees, whom he hadn't seen in some time. He used the Force to cloak him from curious eyes and made his way down to the pilot wing, hoping that they would all be in the barracks rather than a flight sim.
When the door opened, Luke was surprised to see the entire group present, though there were two new faces he didn't recognize.
"Skywalker!" Jisk shouted in greeting, jumping up to greet him. After Kessel, they had all forgotten their fear of his father and had moved on, though the portion of the squad that hadn't been involved was still considerably afraid.
"Jisk," Luke greeted with a grin, as Vaskall, Darmic, and finally Lang stood to greet him.
"It's been a while," said Vaskall.
"Yeah, I heard you went down to Alderaan to meet the princess!" said Darmic excitedly. "What was her name? Did you talk to her?"
Luke rolled his eyes. "Where did you hear that?"
"Ah… BT-39-05 told JT-08-02, who mentioned it to the protocol droid D-DE1, and he told R2-F4 who told the mainframe," Darmic explained.
"You're taking the word of an astromech, who took the word of a protocal droid, who took the words of stormtroopers?" Luke asked with a grin.
"Did you?" Darmic persisted.
"Yes."
Darmic swore. "You get all the lucky breaks."
"You call Lord Vader as a father a lucky break?" Lang asked dubiously. "Life's not all about girls, Darmic."
The boy shrugged. "What was she like?"
Luke laughed. "I just came to say goodbye. I don't have much time."
"Where are you going?" asked Jisk, frowning.
Luke wasn't sure if Bain was a secret or not, so he decided to alter the truth a little bit. "I'm going on leave with my father."
Darmic hissed in sympathy. "Ouch."
Luke raised his eyebrows. "It's not that bad."
"Maybe not for you," said the boy with a shudder.
Luke watched eagerly as they approached the gigantic green Gas Giant. His father piloted the sleek, silvery ship that they had taken from Coruscant. They traveled alone, as both doubted that their greatest protection would be in stormtroopers.
Vader had remained quieter than usual throughout the trip, so Luke had spent most of his time meditating, the calm environment of hyperspace strangely conducive to his relaxation.
But still the three days that it took to reach Bain could not be spent completely in meditation, and Luke had had to force himself to stay away from Vader, knowing that if he began asking questions his father would lose his temper very quickly.
"How far is it?" Luke ventured once they seemed to pass the gas planet.
"Not very," Vader replied shortly.
Luke fell silent, hoping that the strange mood his father had been in since their meeting with the Emperor would wear off if he got some vacation time.
It was nighttime when they finally arrived. The landing pad was brightly lit, though, and Luke heard and saw rushing water below them. His father strode away from the ship into the dark, and Luke followed, using the Force to help him see better. It seemed that the way his father was walking was straight into a sheer cliff.
His suspicious were realized when they walked through a high archway carved out of a strange, ebony-colored rock. There were lights on the wall that lit themselves as Vader passed, illuminating the walls.
They seemed to walk for at least a quarter of a mile before they finally reached a durasteel door that gleamed in the light. Vader paused. "Prepare your breathing apparatus," he said, regretting his decision to allow his son to wear that rather than change part of the residence to accommodate him.
Luke obeyed, placing the partial mask over his mouth and nose and turning on the breather. Vader could feel his son's excitement. With a mental sigh, he opened the door with the force and stepped inside.
Luke's immediate reaction was awe. They stood in an immensely high-ceiling room with floors of the same strange black stone of the cliff with black drapes in each corner. The ceiling was overlaid with mirrors, so it seemed that it extended forever. There were two identical ebony wood tables on either side of the hall that extended in front of them, each with a basin of good-smelling water that gave the enormous room a pleasant smell that Luke could barely detect through the respirator.
"Come," Vader said, walking forward to the hall. He ignored Luke's rolled eyes and walked down the room.
There were ten identical durasteel doors on either side of the hall, and one at the end. Vader stopped at the first one. "This is my library," he explained. "Enter this room only with my supervision." He turned to the next one. "The kitchen and other utilities. It is off limits. If you are hungry, send a request and a droid will bring food to you." Luke nodded to show that he understood. Vader went through the rest—a meditation room that Luke was free to use, a parlor, a gigantic workroom, a training room, a military room, Luke's quarters, storage, and a broadcast room used for communication with the Emperor. When they at last reached the final door, Vader seemed to hesitate. "These are my chambers," he said finally. "You are not to enter under any circumstances."
Luke nodded, slightly bewildered. "I understand."
"Good," said Vader. "Dismissed." Without another word, the door to his quarters opened with a hiss and he disappeared inside, leaving Luke standing in the immense corridor looking very confused. After a few moments, he returned to the door that his father had designated as his own, and walked in to see a spacious chamber with a bed, bookshelf, closet, workroom, and desk. It was much like his quarters on the Executor, though slightly more luxurious. With a sigh, he flopped down on the bed, wincing as his breather started flashing as he had accidentally pressed some buttons.
You are free to remove the breather in your room, his father's voice told him, somewhat dryly. I would not make you sleep with it, though I was tempted to because of your stubbornness.
Thanks, Luke said gratefully, removing the mask and inhaling deeply.
The next morning, Luke woke and dressed quickly, excited to explore the strange residence. He went into the hall and got very light-headed until he realized that he had forgotten the portable breather in his room. Groaning, he returned and put on the apparatus, stepping back into the hall and heading towards his father's durasteel door, hoping to spar.
He attempted to open the door using the Force but was unable to. Frowning, he sent, Can I come it?
The response was immediate. No. If you're hungry there is a control panel in your room and a droid will serve you.
That's not it, Luke protested. I wanted to fence!
That is not possible.
But I thought that the Emperor sent us here to train!
Luke sensed some hesitation from his father. There are droids in the training room that I have built for lightsaber practice. Use those. With that, their link was cut and Luke was left alone.
Moaning in frustration as he realized that he didn't even have a lightsaber, he went back to his room and ordered some food. After he had eaten, he decided to check out the training room in hopes that there would be a spare lightsaber that he could practice with.
Having committed the doors to memory, he went down the hall and found the correct door. It opened with just a touch of the Force and he walked in, noticing the ten or so powered-down droids in the far end of the room. He jogged over, watching himself in the mirrors that lined the walls.
He saw the droids clutched lightsabers and peered closer. He reached out and tried to pry one from the first droid but suddenly the twin photoreceptors on the droid's head blazed to life. Luke jumped back in surprise and then grew alarmed when all of the other battle droids turned on, as if triggered by the one.
Making things worse, the original droid's lightsaber suddenly ignited and it started marching towards Luke. He went very pale for a moment and backed away, eyeing the ledges that were located at certain points on the wall.
Suddenly one of the other droids made an enormous leap towards Luke and activated its lightsaber as well. Luke reached out and vainly tried to use the Force to call the weapon from its arm, but it seemed that it was somehow welded to the metal. Swearing silently to himself, he backed into a corner as the droid started twirling the lightsaber.
He crouched his legs and leapt over it to the other side of the room, where no droids had moved yet. Belatedly, he remembered the breather that he had yet to attach to his clothing, and the mask flew off his face across the room.
Immediately he closed his mouth and held his breath, knowing that he wouldn't be able function properly if he started breathing the pure oxygen when his body wasn't used to it. Gathering himself and the Force, he jumped up to one of the ledges on the wall and managed to grab on with his right hand. For once, he was actually grateful for the prosthetic—it was far stronger than his left hand.
He tried swinging himself up, but the ledge was too narrow at only a handspan deep. His lungs began straining for air and he truly starting to panic as two more droids with lightsabers clustered below him.
He unconsciously cried out as one of the droids jumped into the air and swung at his leg, nicking the flesh. Any hope that he had had that the lightsabers were on sting-mode only disappeared as the saber cut through the cloth and left a bad burn in his leg. Too late, he realized that he had stopped holding his breath, and his head began to spin. His vision began to blur and he focused on holding onto the ledge, knowing that if he let go he'd be killed in an instant.
Luke!
Luke barely recognized his father's voice in his head. His consciousness began to dim as he weakly sent back, Father…. Help…
I'm coming!
Luke started losing control of his prosthetic arm, which was all that was holding him up. His left and long since fallen limp at his side, and his head lolled to side, just as he faintly heard the hiss of the door open.
He finally fell into unconsciousness and let go, tumbling the fifteen feet to the ground.
"Luke!"
Luke opened his eyes to see the blurry visage of a sickly pale, bald-headed man with terrible scars covering most of his face looming over his. He had blue eyes, though, that looked clearly worried. Luke heard the hiss of a portable breather next to him and felt a mask over his mouth, pushing air into his lungs.
Luke's vision cleared. "Father?" he asked weakly.
The man nodded. "Sit up," he said, and his voice was so weak that Luke didn't hear him at first. He closed his eyes briefly and repeated it, and this time Luke heard him, and obeyed. He was lying on the floor of the training room, and the droids that had been attacking had powered down.
The first thing he was aware of was a stabbing pain in his legs. He looked down and saw the ugly burn on one and couldn't identify the pain on the other. "You've broken your leg," Vader said in that strange, hoarse voice.
"What happened?" Luke asked weakly as he took in the image of his father. He wore black clothes—unsurprisingly—that vaguely reminded Luke of his apparel in various dreams. He still wore black gloves.
"You fell after you lost consciousness," explained his father. "I came in just as you were falling, but I didn't have a chance to slow your fall because of the droids."
"I didn't mean to turn them on," Luke said, his own pain and confusion erasing any surprise or disgust about his father's appearance. He screwed up his face in pain as another sharp pain hit him when he had moved his broken leg.
"I should not have sent you in here," said Vader. "I had forgotten that I'd taken your lightsaber away."
"Does that mean I can have it back?" Luke asked hopefully.
"While you're here," his father conceded. "Try not to move. I'm going to take you to my medcenter."
Luke didn't have time to ask why his father had his own personal medcenter when his father bent down and picked him up, his injuries sending screams of protest to his brain. Biting his lip, Luke rested his head against his father's chest, not caring how juvenile it looked.
They entered into Vader's private chambers but Luke didn't notice his surroundings until they went through another door into a highly sterile smelling room. Vader laid him on a patient gurney and addressed a 2-1B unit that had entered the room. "Dress the burn," he told the droid. "And set the leg as best you can. I want it fully functional as soon as possible."
"Yes, Master Vader," said the 2-1B unit immediately. "Do you want him to take a Bacta dip?"
"That's not necessary," Vader rasped.
"Then it's settled. Allow this 2-1B unit to care for you," said Vader, turning and leaving his son on the operating table.
Luke opened his eyes and yawned, the action difficult through the breathing mask over his mouth. His legs were only a dull ache. He struggled to sit up and found himself on a comfortable bed, propped up by pillows. He looked around himself and whistled at the hi-tech, high-quality medical equipment around him. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the full-sized Bacta tank in the corner. "Wow."
"I come here occasionally to try and heal my body," an unfamiliar, rasping voice said, and Luke turned his attention towards the door, where his father's presence was. He had been too close to unconsciousness before to really notice Vader's appearance, but now that he was lucid, the horrible results of Mustafar were readily apparent. Scars disfigured the lower half of his face and his eyes, while still brilliantly blue, were red-rimmed. His head was completely bald, with various vicious-looking scars discoloring the abnormally pale skin.
"Oh," said Luke after a moment. His father merely looked at him.
"Do I meet your expectations?" Vader asked hoarsely, one brow lifted. Despite his attitude, Luke sensed a great discomfort from his father.
"Not as bad as I thought," said Luke honestly.
"You must have a vivid imagination," said Vader dryly, the tone getting across much more effectively in his natural voice. Luke felt the rush of relief and grinned.
"Does this mean that you're not going to spend the entire time in your chambers?" Luke asked hopefully.
"No. I will be modifying the gaseous environment," said Vader.
"Father, you don't have to…"
"A breather is impractical if it you cannot live normally with it," Vader told Luke.
"But you come here to get out of the stupid suit, it's not fair"—
"Luke," said Vader firmly, affixing the boy with a stare that was almost as effective as with the mask. "I can keep my own chambers in oxygen," he said. "I am perfectly used to my mask."
"But it isn't fair!" Luke protested. "You shouldn't have to wear it all the time!"
"You may tell Obi-Wan that next time you travel to the past," said Vader wryly. "I'm sure you'll find that he had other priorities than my own comfort in the future."
"But…"
"This is final, Luke," said Vader more seriously. "I won't have you endangering yourself because you are not accustomed to a breather. I think that we can both agree you want to keep as many of your limbs as possible."
"Well, yeah…" Luke conceded. "But it isn't fair," he muttered.
"Life is not always fair," said Vader bitterly, and Luke got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about his damaged body only. He stood.
"Where are you going?" Luke protested. "Can you stay here and talk to me?"
Vader looked at his son with surprise, and realized that the incident had scared the boy more than the youth wanted to admit. "Are you in need of assistance?" he asked finally, unsure of how to respond.
Luke furrowed his brow. "Not exactly…"
"What is it, then?"
He shrugged. "I don't know… The 2-1B isn't wired for personality. Not good conversation."
"And I am?" Vader asked.
Luke grinned. "No. But maybe you can tell me more about my mother," he proposed quietly.
Vader stiffened. "What?" he questioned roughly, his scarred vocal cords straining.
"You only told me her name," Luke explained nervously. "What did she look like? Was she short like me? How did you meet?"
Vader didn't speak for several minutes. Talking about his beloved wife was the last thing he wanted, but his son (her son) had just been through an ordeal… Perhaps he could tell Luke something about his angelic mother. "Very well," he said finally. Luke beamed. "She had brown hair and brown eyes," he began slowly. "And in stature she was very much like you." He stopped. How could he properly educate his son on his mother? He didn't want the dry facts; he wanted something more. "We met…" he trailed off. How could he explain? He had tried to bury that part of past even when he was still Anakin Skywalker. He had tried to forget everything about his upbringing on that Force-forsaken planet since the instant he left it. "I'm going to go work on the environmental controls," he said brusquely, turning and walking out of the room. Luke knew better than to call after him. After a few minutes, he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up, he was in his room. He stared off into space for a few moments until the door opened with a hiss. He craned his neck and saw his father enter, clad in the mask and life support suit. Luke winced as he came into view. "I told you, I'm fine…"
Vader raised a hand and the breathing mask lifted itself off of Luke's face. He took a deep breath, sighing. He didn't notice the twinge of jealousy from his father. "Is that not better?" Vader asked, the weak, hoarse voice gone in favor of the familiar bass that the vocoder provided.
Luke shrugged and grimaced when he upset his broken leg, which now lay in a splint. His other leg was wrapped in bandages soaked in Bacta. "I feel bad," he told his father, deciding not to mention his mother.
"There is no reason for you to do so," Vader said immediately.
"This isn't exactly how I thought my first day would go," he admitted ruefully. "How long are we staying here?"
"Until I am needed, or the Emperor calls for me," said Vader, moving to the foot of the bed.
"We'll stay long enough that my leg will heal, right? I don't want to spend the entire time in bed," said Luke with a curl of his lip.
"It will heal quickly. In two days, it will seem as though it had not happened," Vader confirmed.
"What were those things? Those droids?" Luke asked. The entire experience for him was hazy after he lost the breather, but the droids he remembered well enough.
Vader crossed his arms. "They are battle droids that I use for my own personal practice. I designed them so as to keep my lightsaber skills when I was no longer with an opponent."
"Oh," said Luke, furrowing his brow. "Maybe next time you should make it so the hilts aren't attached to the arms. I tried to get one, and couldn't."
"That was the point," said Vader, and Luke recognized a note of dryness in his father's voice, distorted through the mask. "Regardless, I want you to rest. The more you sleep, the more quickly you will heal."
"I've done nothing but sleep since it happened," Luke grumbled. He brightened. "Do you have a holovid?"
"I do not waste my time with it," said Vader. "And if I did, we would receive no reception here."
Luke's expression fell. "Oh. What can I do, then?"
"Meditate or practice using the Force," said Vader. "I am going to repair the droids."
"Why?"
"Because I destroyed them with my lightsaber," said Vader. "And as they represent an investment of time on my part, I would like them fully functional. Then, perhaps, you can enact your revenge once you heal."
Luke rolled his eyes. "So I'm stuck here?"
"Yes."