Chapter 3

"What happened here?!"

Luke pushed back his welding goggles and looked up at Lev, who had just entered the room. He and Threepio were sitting by a workbench, and Luke was attempting to fix the droid's arm, which was currently hanging uselessly. Artoo was nearby, beeping in concern for his friend.

"Slight beep ball accident," Luke explained.

"I'm designed for etiquette and protocol, not strenuous physical activity!" Threepio complained.

"He busted his arm trying to return one of my reverse-spin serves," Luke said, pushing his goggles down and resuming the welding. After a few seconds, he put the tool down. "There, good as new."

Threepio tested his arm, which made a loud squeak. Artoo whistled in amusement.

"Be quiet, you whistling tea kettle!" Threepio complained. "Oh no, my poor arm! I'll never be the same again!"

"You just need an oil bath!" Luke insisted.

The squeak suddenly became a groan and then the swinging arm jammed completely.

"Or maybe I should take another stab at fixing that ..."

Lev cleared his throat. "That's going to have to wait until later, Luke. You are attending an embassy party tonight and I believe you need something to wear."

"But it isn't until this evening, right?" Luke said. "Plenty of time!"

"Four hours. And your father said you have to get a haircut, too."

"There's nothing wrong with my hair!" Luke complained, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.

Lev chose not to reply.

Luke sighed and looked back at his droids. "Looks like Artoo is going to have to fix you, Threepio."

Artoo beeped happily, rolling forward and extending his welding pincer.

"Behave yourself, Artoo," Luke warned.

Three hours later, Luke arrived back at the palace with a shopping bag full of formal clothes and a haircut he didn't like.

"Why did they have to cut it so short?" Luke complained.

"You look fine," Lev said, following him into the elevator.

Luke ran his hands through what was left of his hair, trying to make it stick up. "Why did I ever agree to this?"

"You're going to have fun once you get there," Lev insisted. "Besides, it's nice of your father to take you to this. He isn't socially inclined himself, to put it mildly. I'm sure he'd rather be spending the evening slicing up dueling droids—but he's doing this for your sake."

Luke nodded. "I know. I just wish it was over already."

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open on Luke's bedroom floor.

"Good luck, Luke," Lev said.

"Thanks," Luke said, stepping out of the elevator. "I'm gonna need it."

He tried to stall the actual task of getting ready until the last possible moment, and then rushed to get through the shower and put on the silly clothes. When he finally emerged from his bedroom, he found his father was pacing in the hallway.

"Finally," he said, coming to a halt in front of Luke. He reached over and brushed a piece of lint from his shoulder, straightened his collar, and then stepped back.

"I don't know what it is," he said, thoughtfully. "But you still look like an Outer Rim farmboy."

"Thank you for that esteem-booster," Luke said, frowning.

"It is of no consequence," Vader said, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving him onwards. "Perhaps I am merely biased. You know your upbringing is nothing to be ashamed of. Despite what certain people at this party might think."

Luke tugged at his collar uncomfortably as they entered the elevator. His father seemed to have a knack lately, for making him feel nervous while trying to do otherwise.

"What is wrong?" his father asked, as he began to straighten his tunic for the third time.

"Nothing," Luke said, his voice tight. "Just not used to wearing these clothes."

His father watched him for a moment. "The black suits you," he said finally.

"You would say that," Luke said, breaking into a grin.

They stepped out into the hangar, and Luke followed his father to a waiting Imperial issue speeder. He was surprised when they walked straight past it, and on to the Kondero-V, a sports-style luxury speeder model, which wasn't available for public purchase until another month. His father was given a complimentary early model due to his connections with the manufacturers.

"We're taking this?" Luke said. "Wow!"

"I have been meaning to test it out," his father said, casually.

Luke eagerly climbed in and amused himself by playing with the voice-activated seat-adjust feature. When his father started the engine, it made a satisfying rumbling sound, alluding to the vast speeds this machine was capable of.

They accelerated out of the hangar and within seconds, were in the midst of the main traffic lanes. His father weaved around the slower vehicles with expert precision.

Luke couldn't stop grinning. "Why don't we just skip the party and see what this speeder can really do?"

"Perhaps afterwards," his father said, making a sharp right. The maneuvering thrusters instantly compensated.

Luke began to daydream about flying the speeder himself. Maybe if he was really good at the party, he could convince his father to give him a turn on the way home. Under Coruscant law, he couldn't get his speeder's license until he was fifteen, but he'd driven speeders on Tatooine as soon as his feet could reach the pedals. Besides, he was sure his father had been flying younger than he was now.

He eventually became aware his father was talking to him.

"... may be a few people from unusual species there ... perhaps some you have not seen before."

"I know not to stare."

"If people question you about your past, you are not obliged to answer them."

"Well, what do I say, then?" Luke asked.

"You can say you were living with an aunt and uncle, then you came to stay with me. No further details are required."

"What if they ask me about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"People at school are always asking me about your Force powers ... if it's true you can strangle people from far away and—"

"Do not answer any such questions. Change the subject. Discuss the weather."

"The weather? Are you serious?"

"Or what you intend to do with your life. Only don't tell them you wish to rule the galaxy."

"As though I'd say that," Luke said, rolling his eyes.

"And don't discuss politics ... and don't, under any circumstances, tell them what you think of the Emperor."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Not stupid, but often naïve," Vader said, dropping out of the main traffic lane.

Luke leaned over and looked down. He could see a stony white, palatial building, built on the roof of a seemingly bottomless skyscraper. He assumed that was the embassy. It was surrounded by a vast garden, and what looked to Luke like a swimming pool. Jutting out from the sides were landing zones, which were marked by blinking multi-colored lights. The vast number of luxury speeders parked down there indicated they were definitely at the right place.

His father brought the speeder down quickly, and then reversed into a space Luke could've sworn was too narrow. That fact was confirmed when Luke opened his door, only to have it hit the adjacent speeder.

"Whoops!" Luke said, squeezing out sideways to survey the damage. It was only a small mark, but it seemed to stand out on the otherwise immaculate paint job.

"Never mind," his father said from the other side, where incidentally, he seemed to have plenty of room. "That is an Axion-Lazerbolt—it was only released last week. If they can afford that, I can guarantee they can afford to have a scratch removed."

"Wow!" Luke said, shifting around the front of it to get a better look. "It's amazing! I heard about these!" Luke glanced from it to the Kondero-V. "Ours is still better though."

"I did not bring this speeder to show off," his father said, waving a finger at him.

"Yes you did," Luke said, finally tearing himself away from the Axion-Lazerbolt to join his father. "Come on, admit it."

A vast, marble staircase led to the entrance to the embassy, lined on both sides by alternating statues and fountains. This pattern continued all the way into the reception hall, culminating in a central fountain with a wide, triangular base deep enough to swim in. Three Abyssians stood in front of it, and they bowed deeply as they approached.

Luke stared around as the hosts gushed over his father, fascinated with the way the fountain caused the smudges of flickering light to appear all over the silvery walls and ceiling. All the Imperial buildings he'd visited were cold and efficient, but this place was designed with beauty in mind.

He could hear a live orchestra playing in a room off to the side and assumed that was where the main party was. He was just about to sneak off to have a look, when an Abyssian woman in an elaborate robe appeared in his field of vision.

"Your son!? How wonderful! What an honor to meet you!"

Luke blinked a few times, before managing to speak. "Hello."

The two others in the reception committee lined up to meet him. Luke, all too aware of his father's watching gaze, made sure to grip their hands properly when they offered them to shake. He must have done the right thing, because his father placed a hand on his shoulder, gently leading him on towards the main room.

Luke felt his throat become dry as they approached the doors, and he lagged behind. He had an image in his head of a huge, waiting crowd, who would all turn and stare directly at him. He briefly wondered how his father handled so much attention.

His father became aware he had fallen behind and looked back at him.

"Uh, I'm just going to use the refresher," Luke said. "I'll join you in a moment."

Luke expected his father to protest, but he simply nodded. "Very well. You do not have to join me when you return—find yourself some people your own age to socialize with. I do not expect you to spend your evening being polite to adults."

Luke grinned. "Okay."

His father disappeared up the stairs, clearly intending to observe from the balcony level, and Luke wandered off down a side corridor. Once satisfied that he'd let enough time pass between his father's entrance and his own, he returned to the main doors, and slipped in behind some Imperial officers in dress uniform.

The first thing he saw was a table serving drinks. He moved over quickly, taking in the rest of the room as he walked. There weren't as many here as he'd feared ... only a hundred or so. No one gave him a second glance as he weaved his way between the various groups of talking guests.

There were many exotic beverages available at the drinks table, but Luke decided to play it safe and stick with a glass of Juri Juice. He didn't want to end up sick—that would be worse than falling over.

As the droid poured him his drink, he overheard a familiar voice talking about luxury hotels. Ophelia. At least he knew one person already. He gathered his courage, and then sidled nonchalantly up beside her group.

"Hi," he said.

No one seemed to hear him.

"Hi," he repeated, louder.

Ophelia turned slightly. "Oh. Hello, Luke."

She continued her conversation with the two Chagrian girls, who were looking at Luke curiously. Luke wondered if they were related to the Grand Vizier somehow, but Ophelia didn't bother to introduce him. Luke felt awkward, wondering if it would be rude to ask. He knew people didn't like it when you assumed they were related to the one other person from their species that you happened to know.

Within a minute, his glass was empty. The conversation lulled, and Luke spoke up, trying to be helpful.

"Um, I'm going to refill my glass," Luke said. "Can I get anyone anything?"

He was answered only by blank stares.

"Just get a droid to go," one girl said, in a lightly derisive tone.

"Oh," Luke glanced around and saw the reflective silver serving droids. The nearest one was twenty meters away. He considered calling it, and then decided he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Everyone remained silent, watching him. Luke was saved when another boy approached the group. Luke thought he recognised him from the senior year at school. Kart or Jark, some name like that.

"Hello," he said. The others smiled at him. He glanced at Luke.

"Oh, it's you," he said, pleasantly enough. "I didn't think you came to things like this. Wait … does this mean your father is here?!"

Luke nodded, wondering what the big deal was.

"Could you introduce me?"

"Are you insane?" Ophelia said, rolling her eyes at the older boy. "What makes you think you're worthy of his time?"

"Uh, has anyone seen any Ab-si-ans … uh, any young people from this planet," Luke interrupted, trying to change the subject.

"No, fortunately," one of the Chagrian girls said. "I was dreading the idea we'd actually have to speak to them. They seem really primitive."

The boy laughed. "I heard the planet is a real hole. Nothing but farms and everyone hates outsiders. The Emperor must be planning to mine it."

It didn't go past Luke that everyone here would talk the same way about Tatooine given half a chance. From what he'd seen in the meeting, Abyssia was far wealthier and more developed than Tatooine. He shifted away, deciding to go and fill up his drink himself, despite what the others thought. Over by the table, he saw a different group of young people. Maybe he should try his luck with them. As he walked closer, he began to overhear the conversation.

"... they act like they're royalty."

"I've heard they won't even say hello unless they see their parents talking to your parents first."

Luke was about to turn away, when he was spotted.

"Hello," a girl said. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Abi Reallis."

"Uh, hi," Luke said, warming at the friendly greeting. He moved closer to the group, which consisted of three people, Abi and two other boys. "I'm Luke. You must be Admiral Reallis daughter." She had the faint stripes across her face, just like he did.

"Yes, you know my father?"

"I … I met him last week," Luke said, hoping he wouldn't have to explain how he came to be meeting an Admiral. He looked at the boys, and Abi introduced them.

"This is Bohai and Zhang. Their mom is one of my Dad's top lieutenants."

"Oh, I hear you guys would rather be watching the HoloNet," Luke said, smiling. "So would I."

The brothers both looked at each other and then back at Luke. "Are your parents on the Guardian?" Bohai asked.

Luke assumed the Guardian must be Admiral Reallis' flagship. It was tempting just to lie and say yes, but perhaps he could muddle through this somehow. "No, I … long story."

"Did you get ignored by Ophelia and her loyal subjects, did you?" Abi asked, nodding over in Ophelia's direction.

Luke shrugged, not wanting to get drawn into someone else's feud. There was an awkward silence, and Luke quickly tried to think of something he could ask.

"Where do you go to school, Abi?" Luke asked, fairly certain that he'd never seen her at the private local school he attended.

"I have a private tutor," Abi said. "I moved around a lot growing up as my father was posted in different places, so school was never practical for me. We've been on Coruscant for six months now, so maybe I should try it."

"So have you been to Abyssia?" he asked.

"Not yet," she said. "I'll probably be visiting after the actual treaty is signed and Abyssia becomes an Imperial territory. I have been to Butangdor—that's Abyssia's neighbour."

"We've been there too," Zhang said. "They have the largest spider-webs I have ever seen. Bigger than this room, even, but made by a spider smaller than a one credit coin."

"Really?" Luke asked, trying to imagine it. "You saw one?"

"Yes, but only in a zoo. We went there for a vacation last year."

"I wish I got to travel more," Luke said. "But my father is always so busy."

"I know what you mean," Zhang said. "I have to force my father to take a break sometimes."

Luke grinned. He was starting to actually connect with these people. Made for a pleasant change. He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, when an adult came up behind Abi. It took Luke a second to realize it was the admiral, now in dress uniform.

"Did you try the fruit pies yet?" he said to Abi. "Almost as good as your grandmother can make. I'm trying to find out what they call the fruit."

"No, because Ophelia has been hogging the serving droid," Abi said, pointing. "Can you tell it to come here?"

Her tone was less polite request and more demand, but her father didn't seem phased by her tone. "How about I bring you a selection myself?" he suggested.

"And a glass of wine?"

"No wine. Not even Ophelia is allowed to drink wine yet, I'm sure." He had glanced at Luke briefly when he arrived, but now he looked again, and a flash of recognition crossed his face.

"Oh, hello. I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

Luke glanced down, and then remembered all his father's instructions about looking people in the eye when speaking to them. He forced himself to stand up straight. "Luke Skywalker."

"So you don't share your father's family name? Is Skywalker your mother's name?"

"I … uh … it's complicated," Luke said, looking down.

"Why, who is his father?" Abi said, glancing up at her father. "One of your officers?"

"No, this is Lord Vader's son," the admiral said. "I met him at the Imperial Palace last week."

Bohai and Zhang both stared at him like they'd just been told he was a flesh-eating zombie, and then turned and quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving Luke alone with the admiral and his daughter. Abi was staring at him with a wide-eyed expression of utmost surprise. He did his best not to look down, but he could feel his face turning red.

"Is your father here?" the admiral asked, oblivious to the embarrassment he'd just caused. "I haven't seen him."

"I … maybe he had to leave," Luke said. "I … excuse me, I'm going to try one of those pies."

As he walked away, he clearly heard Abi asking her father why he hadn't 'warned her' earlier. Feeling terrible, he refilled his glass for the third time, and decided to go and find his father. There was no point attempting to be subtle about their relationship now. Maybe he was having an equally bad time and would give in if he begged to leave.

He climbed up the stairs and walked over until he was standing beside his father. He was talking to an Abyssian who was wearing a military uniform.

"Ah, is this your son, Lord Vader?" the woman asked.

His father looked over at Luke and placed a hand on his shoulder, shifting him forward. "Yes. Luke, this is General Rohanna, head of the Abyssian army."

"Are you enjoying the party, young man?" the general asked, smiling at him.

Luke inwardly fumed at the patronizing tone. "Not really," he said, before he had time to think

The general was silent for a moment, and then she laughed.

"What happened?" his father asked, sounding anything but amused at Luke's reply.

Luke swallowed. "Uh ... nothing, I meant ... I didn't mean ... I'm just a little tired, that's all," Luke said, desperately trying to cover.

"It is only 20-hundred," his father said.

"I know ... well, I had a busy day."

"You slept in until the afternoon, as I recall." His father still sounded annoyed.

The general laughed again, sounding a little forced. "I remember when I was young enough to get away with that."

Luke frowned again, and his father gave him a push towards the main party.

"Go and find someone else to talk to."

"But—"

"Go," his father said, firmly.

Luke shifted away, reluctantly. There was no way in the galaxy he was talking to anyone else. Maybe he could go for a walk. He made his way down to the main floor and wandered out into the hallway. After exploring for a while, he found a corridor lined with holo-pictures. They were all repeating endless cycles of movement.

Luke walked down the line, past rows and rows of portraits. He assumed they were historical Abyssian kings and queens. One painting in particular caught his eye—it was a view looking down a wide river. Long, thin water mammals swam along the side. It looked so beautiful, so peaceful ... so different from Coruscant, or Tatooine. He could only imagine what it would be like to live in such a beautiful place.

Conversation drifted down the hall behind him, and Luke quickly ducked inside a room, pressing himself against the wall. He could hear two people approaching, talking in hushed tones.

"What is his interest in these proceedings, I wonder? And Governor Tarkin as well. Is the Emperor anticipating some kind of trouble?"

Luke recognized Admiral Reallis' voice. When his companion replied, he also picked out Governor Halifax, Ophelia's father.

"These backward planets always cause trouble. No, I suspect they are still trying to secure more resources for Krennic's little project. The Force knows what they're building to require this much effort, but ours is not to question."

"I have to say, I was surprised to learn he has a son."

"Oh, yes. Came to live with him a little over a year ago now. He goes to school with my daughter."

"It's the strangest thing." The admiral's tone became quieter, and they stopped walking and paused right beside the open door. Luke put his arm over his mouth, hoping they couldn't hear him breathe. "He tells me his family name is Skywalker. I served during the Clone Wars. That name was legendary among the ranks. He looks like him, too."

"You're not the first to notice that," the governor said, sounding amused. "I was speaking to Tarkin about it last week, and he said he'd bet good money the boy is the son of the Jedi Skywalker."

"So he took a Jedi's child?"

"So it seems. Years ago, I had heard the Inquisitors were taking Force sensitive children and training them to kill Jedi, but as far as I'm aware, that project ended as Jedi numbers dwindled. Perhaps Vader saw some promise in that one and decided to adopt him."

There was amusement in the admiral's reply. "I can't imagine Lord Vader being the type to adopt a child. Everything I've heard would suggest the opposite."

"Yet, here we are. I can't help but wonder if Vader intends to train him as a Sith heir once he is a little older, and then use him to stage a coup. This 'son' facade could be a ploy to keep the Emperor's guard down."

"I'm not sure it's appropriate to speculate about such a thing," the admiral said, sounding anxious at the direction the conversation had taken. "No one could question Lord Vader's loyalty to the Emperor."

"Forgive me, Admiral. You are correct, of course."

Luke looked down at his hands, and realized they were shaking. Outside, he heard footsteps as the men began to walk on. But the admiral had one more question.

"What did become of the Jedi Skywalker, I wonder? I never did hear. I can't imagine him betraying the government."

"I asked Tarkin the same question. He knew Skywalker personally. He said Lord Vader is consistent on the subject."

There was a pause, which felt like hours to Luke, but it was only mere seconds.

"Anakin Skywalker is dead. He killed him himself. In fact, he was one of the Jedi who came to the Chancellor's office."

The admiral replied, but they had moved too far away for Luke to make out his words. It didn't matter though—he had heard enough.

Half an hour later, Vader opened the door of the Kondero-V speeder, to find his son hunched up inside. He was listening to music over the speeder's comm system, and did not acknowledge his arrival.

"So this is where you have been hiding."

His son didn't reply. He turned away from him.

Vader considered dragging his son back to the party, but he quickly discarded the idea. His son had lasted two hours—that was enough for a first attempt. At any rate, he'd exceeded his own social limit for one evening.

After climbing into the pilot's seat and starting the engine, he reached over to switch off the music. Luke didn't react to the loss of his entertainment, which surprised Vader. He had been anticipating some kind of protest. He glanced over at his son, curiously. Perhaps he had fallen over again. Nothing would surprise him.

Vader guided the speeder into a traffic lane, and then used the mental bond he shared with his son to analyze the boy's feelings. He was miserable ... confused ... preoccupied with something.

"Did you fall over again?" he asked, eventually.

Luke didn't reply.

"Did somebody offend you?"

Luke didn't even acknowledge the words.

Vader decided to leave him be. He had no time for moody, sulking teenagers. If his son wouldn't speak his mind, he wasn't going to press the issue. No doubt he would tell him when he was ready.

He focused on the slow-moving traffic for a minute, before having a sudden change of heart. This was all a lot to take for a Tatooine farm boy, after all.

"Would you like a turn at piloting?" he asked. He could let Luke reverse it into a parking space, at least, once they reached the hangar.

"I'd rather just go home," Luke said, in a muffled whisper.

Vader wondered if he'd heard correctly. Ever since his son had moved in, Luke had begged him for the chance to fly at every possible opportunity. And now, when he finally offered, Luke turned him down?

"Are you sick? If so, I will take you to a doctor."

"No."

Vader clenched his hands around the controls. When they landed, his son was going to spell out exactly what was wrong, whether he felt like it or not.

Luke had other ideas, however. As soon as they touched down, he opened the door and ran for the elevator.

Vader let out a weary breath as he stared after his hastily retreating son. Perhaps it was better to leave it until tomorrow. No doubt his son would be more cooperative after a good night's sleep.

"It sounds stupid, if you ask me," Ben said.

Luke rubbed his eyes, his lack of sleep catching up with him. He'd been awake half the night, his mind unable to stop thinking over everything he'd heard.

"Why?" Luke asked, taking a bite from his lunch. "You don't think he's capable of it?"

Ben looked thoughtful for a moment. "But why would he tell you you're his son if you're not?"

"To get my loyalty."

"But think about it. Let's say you really were just some orphaned farmboy from the Outer Rim. Wouldn't you be ten times more loyal if he took you in and looked after you, even though you were no relation to him?"

"But Ben," Luke said, "we have nothing in common. Nothing!"

"I wouldn't say that," Ben said, grinning.

Luke threw a sandwich crust. Ben caught it. "See! You've got a temper just like him."

Luke forced himself to calm down. "My temper is nothing like his. If something annoys him—he destroys it! Besides … my uncle always said my father was dead. Why would he have lied to me for all those years?"

Luke slumped down on the lunch table, resting his head in his arms. Maybe all his wishing and dreaming for a father had caused him to overlook the glaring inconsistencies and just accept what he was told for fact. It was a horrible feeling. The person he'd become so easily attached to—the person he'd accepted as his father—was he really only using him for his own political gain?

"Why don't you ask him then?" Ben suggested. "Go to him and ask him straight."

"I can't," Luke said. "What if it's true?"

"Wait a minute, I'm confused," Ben said. "Do you want it to be true, or not? A moment ago you were insisting you were nothing alike."

Luke looked aside, struggling with his conflicted feelings. Of course he didn't want it to be true! He wanted him to be his father ... didn't he?

But then, if he wasn't his father ... he would never have to see the Emperor again. Or Tarkin, for that matter. And he wouldn't have to force himself to fit in with all these power-hungry people ...

Luke enjoyed the thought for a moment, until he began to feel guilty. He'd been living with Vader for two years now, and during that time, he had cared for him while he was sick, rescued him when he was in danger, and spent countless hours simply ... being his father. Was he really so ungrateful that he wanted it all to be a lie?

He groaned in frustration. "This is all so confusing."

"I don't see why. Do you want him to be your father?"

Luke rested his chin on his elbow, and considered the question. "I don't know," he said, finally.

"Well do you like him?"

"Do you like your father?"

"Occasionally," Ben said with a chuckle. "I do love him, though."

"Because he's your father," Luke said. "But if he wasn't related to you, would you still love him then?"

"Sure," Ben said. "He'd still be my father, even if we weren't related by blood. There's more to being a father than simply sharing genes, right?" He gestured across the lunchroom to a girl sitting near the snack drink station. "Look at Dali. She's not even the same species as her adoptive parents, but they're always here for every school event."

Luke fidgeted with a food wrapper, considering it. "That's different," he said, finally. "Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru weren't my blood relatives, but they were my family. And if he wasn't related to me, but he'd said he knew my parents and wanted to adopt me, maybe we could have made that work. But that's not what happened, if what I heard is true." Luke swallowed. "He killed my father. He killed Anakin Skywalker, and then pretended to be him because he wants to use me to take over the Empire. That's not what a real father would do."

Luke tossed his lunch on the bench, no longer feeling hungry.

"We argue all the time," Luke added, suddenly. "He's always complaining about everything I do. He thinks I'm reckless, stubborn and impatient. I think he's bad tempered, cold and emotionally challenged. He forces me to be polite to the Emperor, even though he knows he's pretty much evil incarnate. Now he's making me go to boring Imperial social gatherings."

Luke paused for a moment. "And ... and I really thought that deep down, very deep down, he really did care about me."

"You don't know that he doesn't," Ben said. "And maybe Ophelia's father has it all wrong. Maybe your father just said he killed Anakin Skywalker because he doesn't want anyone to know he used to be a Jedi."

"If only there was some other way," Luke said, banging the table. "Some way I could find out the truth without having to ask him straight."

"How about we start with the library?" Ben suggested.

"The library? How will that help?"

"Let's try and find out more about this famous Jedi called Anakin Skywalker," Ben said, grinning. "I bet we can find something that proves he is Lord Vader."

Ben always thought the library contained the answers to everything, but Luke had to admit, it was an idea.

"All right. Let's go after class."

Luke alternated between hovering over Ben's shoulder, and pacing around in circles, while his friend accessed multiple NewsNet databases on one of the library terminals.

"Are you sure this is the right spelling?" Ben asked, eventually.

Luke paused from staring at a droid carrying a large stack of databooks, and leaned over to look at the terminal screen.

"Yes."

"This is so weird. There's nothing. No birth record. No marriage. No death. He's never mentioned by name in thousands of Clone Wars news archives. It's like he didn't exist."

"He did exist! I have a holo of him and my mother on their wedding day."

"Are you sure it's him?"

Luke considered it. He wasn't really sure about anything anymore ... not after what he'd heard.

Ben changed screens. "But it's the same for Lord Vader. He doesn't start showing up in news archives until about a month after the Empire was founded. I wonder if the Imperial Security Bureau removed everything."

"They're in on this," Luke said, frowning.

"It's probably because it's impossible to find anything about Jedi," Ben said. "They consider it subversive. Maybe we could try the library at the Imperial Palace."

"No. He might find out I'm looking into his past, then," Luke said. He frowned, and nudged his friend out of the way. "Let me try something." He filled in a search record for Owen Lars located on Tatooine. Within seconds, he had his uncle's face and details on the screen.

"Your uncle?"

Luke nodded. "Here's my aunt," he said, following a link to a marriage record. Record keeping was sketchy on Tatooine, but the government office would occasionally conduct a census. He felt an old pain stir at the sight of their faces.

"According to this, they had no nephews or nieces," Ben said, reading the notes. "No adopted children, either."

"This is crazy," Luke said. "Someone has been tampering with these records. I know I definitely exist, and I wasn't a Jedi." Luke frowned. "Why would someone go through and remove all references to me and my father? Unless someone had something to hide ..."

Ben didn't reply.

Luke pushed back his chair. "I'm going home."

Luke took the long route back to the palace, deciding he needed the time to think. The visit to the library had left his head spinning with even more questions than he'd entered with. He was beginning to realize that it was no good pretending any longer. The odds had been stacking up steadily against him ever since he'd first heard the governor's whispered words.

It was time he faced the truth. He was not the real son of Darth Vader—he never had been! He was Luke Skywalker, farmboy, orphan, nothing and nobody special. His own wishing and hoping for a father had caused him to be easily fooled into believing a carefully planned lie. A lie he'd enjoyed living, but a lie, none the less.

That only left the question of what he was going to do now.

Luke kicked a piece of scrap metal in frustration. It was times like this he wished he were older. Thirteen was a lousy age. Old enough to discover that adults didn't always tell you the truth, but young enough to have to depend on them. It wasn't as though he had anywhere else to go.

Luke gazed around at the ever darkening walkway, fearful at the thought of being left to make his own way on this grim and ruthless planet. That would be the only option left for him, if he revealed that he had discovered the truth.

He walked on quickly, eager to get back. As he reached the first security checkpoint to enter the Imperial Palace, he looked up at the vast, spired building. He lived in luxury here—all the food he needed, a large bedroom with his own holovid, and a vast hangar full of ships and droids to tinker with. Did it really matter that he was living a lie? He could bide his time, at least until he was old enough to move out.

Luke passed through the security barrier, nodding at the guards as they waved him through. When he entered the main palace elevator hub, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned, seeing his father approaching. Judging by the direction, he'd just come back from IMH.

"Hello, Son," he said, joining him to wait for an elevator. "How was school?"

Luke stared at him for a moment, before dropping his gaze. He mumbled something unintelligible.

"I see."

A chime signaled the arrival of the elevator, and Luke entered first, with his father close behind. Luke found himself staring at his father again, as they began to travel upwards. It was strange ... even after what he'd found out, he still couldn't think of him as anything other than his father. It was almost certain it was a lie, and yet ... how could this man address him as his son so casually, when they were no more related than a pair of rocks? Luke narrowed his eyes, feeling betrayed. He had exploited his most vulnerable emotions ... the longing of an orphan for his father. How could he be so cruel?

Vader suddenly became aware of his staring, and turned to face him. Luke quickly turned away, but he was a fraction too slow. His gaze had been seen.

The elevator came to a sudden halt, although they were between floors.

"What is it?"

"Nothing!" Luke said, pressing the elevator buttons in a vain attempt to get it moving again.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

"Why do you think that?" Luke asked, looking at the floor.

"Then what is it? You have been acting like this ever since we left the party, yesterday. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened!" Luke insisted. "I'm just a little tired, okay?"

Vader stared at him for another few seconds, but Luke refused to meet his gaze. Eventually, he stood back and the elevator resumed its journey. Once they reached their destination, Luke walked ahead, eager to get to the relative safety of his bedroom.

He hadn't realized how hard this was going to be. Every second he spent in Vader's presence, he was constantly fighting the urge to shout and yell and demand to know why he'd been led to believe a lie for so long. How long could he hold out? Any moment he could snap and damn himself to life as an orphan, once again.

Avoidance was the only way he was going to get through this. It would be tricky, considering they lived together, but it was entirely possible—Vader's busy schedule saw to that. But the trick here was not only avoiding Vader, but making sure it didn't look obvious. He was already suspicious enough—he could only hope he would let this issue go.