Chapter 4
The Force was a mysterious thing. Vader had devoted his life to its study, yet there was much of it which still remained elusive. Such as why his son's bad moods had such an intrusive effect on him.
He was browsing through a fleet activities report, yet none of it was staying in his mind. All he could think about was his son. Two days had passed since the embassy party, and the boy still had not recovered from whatever trivial event had caused him to enter this childish sulk.
Vader tapped his fingers on the armrest, wondering whether he should seek professional help for Luke. This had gone well beyond normal adolescent behavior ... hadn't it? Vader thought back to Anakin's teenage years, trying to remember any equivalent event which might shed some light on what his son was going through. There was that time he'd accidentally lost a lightsaber down a stormwater drain. Obi-Wan had accused him of doing it on purpose, and he'd been so offended, he'd been moody and sulky for the better part of two days.
Ridiculous, now, looking back on it. But normal for a teenager. The only thing missing from the equation with Luke was the reason for his reaction.
His computer beeped loudly, pulling Vader out of his thoughts. He swiveled his chair around and opened the newly arrived message. It was an automated reminder about a meeting with a team of negotiators, handling the finer details of Abyssia's entry to the Empire. It was starting in five minutes. He was not required to attend, but he was better there, than sitting here dwelling on his son and his trivial problems.
On the other hand, Vader thought, as he left the meditation room, his son's social training couldn't go on hold, simply because he happened to be going through a phase. He opened Luke's bedroom doors and glanced inside. There was no sign of his son, but then, Luke had been avoiding this part of the palace. He was at home though, Vader could sense that much.
He followed his sense down to the lower levels, to an out of the way conference room near the ship hangar. Luke was sitting at the table, working at a portable terminal. He looked up when Vader entered, and then quickly resumed his work.
Vader sat down opposite, observing him. A few minutes of silence passed, before Luke finally looked up in annoyance.
"What?!"
"I am going to a meeting upstairs. You will join me."
"I've got homework to do," Luke protested. "This history essay is due tomorrow."
Vader considered it. "Very well," he said, eventually. "Your education must come first."
Luke resumed working on his essay and didn't spare him another glance, until it became clear he was not about to leave. When his son met his gaze again, Vader saw something in those pale blue depths which made him even more curious. Fear. His son was afraid ... but of what, was anyone's guess.
"Why are you hiding down here?" Vader asked. "Instead of working at the desk in your room?"
Luke shrugged. "I needed a change of scene."
Vader decided a direct approach might be best. "Are you trying to avoid me?"
Luke frowned. "You're never here, anyway. Why would I need to avoid you? It happens anyway."
Vader leaned back, feeling relief. "So that is it."
"What's it?" Luke asked.
"The reason why you have been acting so moody and secretive. I have not been spending enough time with you."
"I have not been moody and secretive!" Luke said. "And you've been spending too much time with me on these pointless social lessons!"
"So you would prefer we spent some time in the hangar working on a restoration project?"
Luke made a noise that was half-groan, half-sigh. "Will you please leave me alone? I'm trying to work."
Vader stood up. "Very well, Son. But if you want my attention, you only need to ask. You do not need to leave me guessing as to why you are upset."
Luke only glared at him in response, and Vader decided to do as he wished, and leave him alone. His son was obviously too proud to admit he wanted his father's attention and angry he had seen through his attempts to disguise it.
Perhaps teenagers were not so hard to understand, after all.
After the brief conversation in the conference room, Luke found avoiding his supposed father quickly became twice as difficult. Vader had, for some unfathomable reason, become convinced his mood was because he wasn't getting enough attention.
A week ago, he would have been delighted to get more positive attention from his father—but it was just his luck, that at the one time he was desperate to avoid him, he was doing his best to spend every spare moment he had with him.
On one evening, Luke found himself eating his dinner by the light of a glow rod, in the back of a storage compartment. His only companions were deactivated cleaning droids and spiders, but this had to be better than accepting his father's invitation to eat in his presence. Although it had sounded more like an order than an invitation, and his mumbled excuses were sounding increasingly desperate.
He swallowed his last mouthful and crawled back out into the corridor. As peaceful as it was in there, he had homework, and his homework was in his bedroom. If he was quick and quiet, he could retrieve it, and disappear, before Vader even got a whiff of his imminent arrival.
Luck wasn't on his side, though. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, it wasn't hard to see that there was no reaching his bedroom doors, without first staving off some well-intentioned offers.
"Hello, Son," Vader said, as he approached.
Luke remained quiet and attempted to dodge past.
"I am going to test out the engine adjustments on the Kondero-V," he continued. "Would you like to join me?"
"Uh ... there's a good show on holovid tonight," Luke said, finally succeeding in ducking past him.
"Do you expect me to believe you would rather watch holovid than come for a speeder-ride?" Vader asked.
"And I've got homework," Luke mumbled, entering his bedroom. He immediately shut and locked the doors—not that locks would stop a Sith Lord, if he really wanted to get in, but it was more the sentiment than the actual barrier.
He sat down on his bed, suddenly aware that he was sweating. He watched the doors nervously, wondering whether Vader was going to barge in and demand to know what was wrong with him. He was painfully aware that his patience was on an ever-shortening fuse. Sooner or later, he was going to snap, if he didn't do so first.
The doors remained closed, however, and Luke soon relaxed. He was safe for tonight, at least. He settled down to work on his homework, but his peace only lasted fifteen minutes. The sound of his door-comm caused him to jump in fright. Maybe this was it ...
But it was Lev on the other side. It was only a partial relief.
"Oh," Luke said. "Hi."
He stood aside to let Lev enter.
"Hi, Luke. I was just going off shift, and I thought I'd stop by and see how things were going."
Luke folded his arms, refusing to be pacified with a casual tone. "Did he send you?"
Lev looked like he was going to deny it, but then he nodded.
Luke turned away, annoyed. "You're wasting your time."
"Listen, Luke, he's very worried about you. He'd have to be to ask me to intervene. He hates admitting to having any kind of problem he can't handle—least of all one with his own son."
"He's not worried," Luke said. "He just can't stand the fact that I have something I'm keeping from him. He's allowed to keep all the secrets he wants ... but when it comes to me? No, I have to tell him everything. It's not fair!"
"But how is your father supposed to apologize if he doesn't know what he's done to upset you?"
"I don't want him to apologize," Luke said, inwardly flinching at the sound of the word 'father'. "I just want to be left alone."
Lev sighed. "How about this—why don't you tell me what happened. I won't share it with your father, if you don't want me to, but I think you should tell someone at least—just to get a second opinion."
Luke considered it. He'd like to tell Lev ... but could he really trust him not to tell his father? It was a pretty big secret after all. He didn't know if he would trust himself in Lev's position. No, it was safer to leave it as it was.
"I can't tell you," Luke said. "You'd have to tell my father."
Lev was silent for a few moments, and then he nodded. "All right. But I can't go back to him with nothing, at any rate. Are you sure there's nothing you want to say to him?"
Luke considered it. Actually, there was something ...
"Okay. Tell him I want to live my own life. I don't want his attention and I don't want to spend time with him."
"Very well."
"And I want to change rooms," Luke said, suddenly on a roll. "I'm too close to where he is. I want to be over the other side of the palace."
"I think I'm seeing a pattern here," Lev said.
"Just tell him."
After a restless night, full of strange dreams about floating in a vast, empty space, Luke found himself late and rushing to get ready for school. As he slung his school sack over his shoulder and left his bedroom, he found himself face-to-chest with Vader.
"Can't talk—late—" he mumbled, trying to sidestep.
His father had him trapped, though, like a gunner with an X-Wing in his sights. He placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him with a single grip.
"You may not have time to talk, but you will listen."
Luke relented and stifled the urge to struggle.
"I understand you want to live your own life. It is natural to desire more independence at your age. There is no need for all this hostility."
Luke nodded, looking away.
"If you need space, I will give it to you. You only need to ask."
"Sure. Can I go now?" Luke asked, tonelessly.
"And I am sorry if this social training has made you feel as if I am trying to control your life. I am only trying to do what is best for you."
Luke blinked in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard him apologize. It was typical of his luck recently that it was an apology for the wrong thing.
Vader suddenly released his grip and stepped aside. Luke ran for the elevator, glad to escape, even though that particular confrontation had been relatively painless. At least he'd succeeded in getting Vader to leave him alone. But was that what he really wanted? Wasn't there a part of him that wanted Vader to know that he knew the truth? To know that he no longer believed his lies? But what would happen then?
The questions went round and round his head as he ran to school, leaving him out of breath by the time he arrived in class. His teacher didn't bother to question his lateness, and Luke was grateful. It didn't get past his friend, though.
"What happened to you?" Ben asked, as they walked to their next class.
Luke mumbled something vague.
"You still haven't asked him, huh?"
Luke sighed. "Whenever I'm around him, I just can't stop thinking about all the lies."
"Assuming it is lies."
"Well, somebody is lying," Luke said.
"I still think you should—"
"For the last time! I'm not asking him!"
"I just don't understand why you're so convinced. Sure, it's strange someone deleted his name out of the news archives, but maybe there's another explanation. And I can't believe you would take something some governor said so seriously."
"He wasn't just some governor. This is Ophelia's father … and he was repeating what Governor Tarkin had told him."
"So … supposedly Lord Vader told Governor Tarkin that he killed your father. Then Governor Tarkin told Governor Halifax. Then you overheard Governor Halifax … isn't it possible something got misunderstood?"
"Forget it," Luke sighed.
"Okay. But I have another idea."
"I'm not telling him."
"It doesn't involve telling him. Go ask your doctor."
"What would he know?"
"DNA. He can do a DNA test."
"D-N- what?"
"That's how you test whether you're related to someone or not. Everyone carries pairs of chromosomes inside their cells—half from your father and half from your mother. They can do a test to see whether your DNA matches Lord Vader."
"Are you sure about this?" Luke asked, skeptically. The thought of having half his father's chromosomes floating around in his cells was more than a little weird.
"Of course I am. Don't you pay attention in science class?"
After school, Luke made his way to the medcenter in the senate office building. Unfortunately, his lack of prior appointment meant he ended up waiting well over an hour to see his doctor. During that time, he tried to think of a story to explain his odd request. He couldn't let on how much was really at stake over this. It had to sound natural, like this was a request any teenager might make on any given day.
When his turn came around, he strolled through into his office with his hands in his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible.
Doctor Leeson smiled in recognition. "Hello, Luke. I haven't seen you in a while. Been staying out of trouble?"
"As much as possible," Luke said, sitting down in the patient chair beside his desk.
"What can I do for you today?"
"Well," Luke said, taking a deep breath, "I was wondering if you could do a DAN test for me."
"A DAN test?" the doctor repeated.
"Wait, that's not it." Luke thought back. "It's something else ... uh ... it's to do with chromosomes ... for finding out if you're related to someone."
His doctor laughed. "Ah—a DNA test. Who is the other person you wish to test?"
Now that it came down to it, Luke suddenly wondered if this was a good idea. What if his doctor insisted on informing his father?
"This is entirely confidential, right?" Luke asked. "You won't tell anyone else about this?"
"I can't do a check on someone else's DNA without their consent," Doctor Leeson explained.
"Oh," Luke said, standing up. "Forget it then. It wasn't that important, anyway."
"Hold on ... this isn't about your father, is it?"
Luke quickly sat down again. "How did you know?"
"Well, let's just say you're not the only person in this room to ever wonder if they truly were related to their father. Parents can be downright weird sometimes. I should know, I am one."
Luke grinned. "You're not so weird. You don't have a lightsaber, for one thing."
"Ah, you'd be surprised," his doctor replied. "Now what makes you think you're not really related to your lightsaber-carrying father?"
Luke shrugged. "It's a lot of things. Someone said they heard him say he actually killed my father. And I couldn't find any information about him in the library. It's like someone didn't want me to know."
"The Imperial Security Bureau does keep information about certain people under tight control. Have you asked him about it?"
"No. I don't want him to know I heard this, in case it's true. That's why I thought ... if I could just know for sure ..."
"I think I can put your mind at ease, Luke." His doctor was entering something into his computer terminal. "Yes, here it is."
"Here what is?" Luke asked, sitting up and shifting to the edge of the seat.
"Your father had a paternity test performed, just prior to your moving in with him. A medical droid would have taken care of it, but the results are still on your record. Would you like to see?"
Luke hastily stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk.
There was an image of two holograms that looked like pieces of knotted rope. Underneath, there were lists of technical data that made no sense to Luke. His doctor guided his attention to a note on the side that read 'Match positive.'
"It doesn't prove it's him, though," Luke said, sadly.
"According to the notes, the attending med droid took the sample directly from him," Doctor Leeson insisted, pointing at the text. "This was done using a fresh scan from a living person and it included a blood type analysis. The comparison DNA scan from you was obtained within an hour of this one."
Luke let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "He really is my father, then?"
"Yes, indeed."
Luke grinned, feeling like a vast weight had been lifted from his mind. "Thank you so much."
"Anytime, Luke."
"You won't tell him about this, right?" Luke said, collecting his belongings. "He'll think I'm crazy if you do."
"I avoid talking to your father as much as possible," his doctor explained. "So your secret is safe. However, maybe you should consider talking this over with him, anyway. He might surprise you."
Might? He already has, Luke thought. Simply by being his real father.
By the time he arrived back at the palace, Luke was still grinning to himself. He wanted to call Ben and thank him for the DNA idea, but there was someone else he had to talk to first. He'd treated his father unfairly over the last week, and it was time to end it.
After picking up some food from the kitchen droids, he went in search of his father, eventually finding him in a workroom, near the ship hangar. He was sitting at a bench, surrounded by tools, repairing the detached head of a dueling droid.
"Hi, Dad ... uh ... Father," Luke said. He pulled up a stool and sat opposite. "How was your day?"
His father paused in his work and stared at him. Luke scooped up a spoonful of his dinner and began to chew.
"Do you require something?" his father asked.
"What? No!"
"Then why are you here? This morning you were barely on speaking terms with me."
"Yeah, well ..." Luke picked at his vegetables. "That was just a bad mood, but I'm over it now."
His father put down the tools. "A bad mood?" he repeated, with a touch of disbelief.
Luke continued to munch while shrugging. "Whatever it was, I'm over it. That's all you need to know."
"Good. Then you are available to attend the installation of the Abyssian senator tomorrow night."
"Another party? You mean you're not satisfied yet? What did I do wrong at the last one?"
"This time, do not tell the hosts you are not having a good time, even if it is the truth."
Luke rolled his eyes and nodded.
"This will be a smaller gathering than the embassy party. Less than thirty people. Grand Moff Halifax said he will again be attending with his daughter, and Admiral Reallis is also bringing his daughter."
Luke sighed. "Girls ..."
"What is wrong with girls?"
"Nothing, I guess," Luke said. "It's just ... they're so sophisticated and mature. Especially Ophelia ... she acts like she's a queen or something. It's intimidating. And it's so hard to find things to talk about with girls ... with the guys, you can talk about HoloNet sports, or speeder models, but with girls, it's like they're a strange alien species from the unknown regions."
"You should treat young women with politeness and respect," his father said, firmly.
"I do!" Luke said, "but it seems like whatever I do, it's the wrong thing. Like the other day ... there's a girl from a lower year who has her locker next to mine. She dropped one of her datapads, so I bent down to pick it up for her. She didn't even say thank you. She just turned bright red and started giggling."
"It sounds like she is attracted to you, Son."
Luke almost choked on his dinner. "No way! That's impossible!" He quickly scraped up the last of his food in a flurry of activity. "I have homework. Goodnight."
He left the room, but returned a moment later.
"Do you really think that's it?" Luke asked.
His father was about to reply, when Luke held up a hand.
"Never mind. I don't want to know. Goodnight for real."
He left his father sighing in exasperation.
"What are you doing with your stuff?"
Luke glanced up to see Ben standing over him.
"I'm swapping lockers with Will," Luke explained. "Just for a change."
"Did you talk to your doctor?"
Luke nodded, stepping back from his new locker as it sealed itself shut with a hiss.
"And?" Ben prompted.
"You were right. My father had already done a test and the results were in my medical records. He is my real father."
"See, I knew you shouldn't have listened to that governor! And the missing archive records?"
Luke was about to explain that he had decided to keep the entire issue secret from his father, when he saw Ophelia enter the locker room. It surprised him, because Ophelia and her friends had lockers in a different part of the school, and wouldn't normally be seen dead down here.
Ben noticed his distracted glance and turned around.
"Woah!" he said. "Uh ... I mean ... hi, Ophelia."
She gave him a distasteful look and then focused on Luke.
"Luke, my father said you'll be at this party tonight. Is that true?"
Luke nodded, curious as to why Ophelia cared.
"Good. I'll see you there, then?"
"Ophelia, you practically ignored me at the last party," Luke said, picking up his school bag.
"Yes, I know," Ophelia said, without a hint of regret. "But this time it's just you, me and Abi Reallis, and I can't stand her. You can't leave me to talk to her all evening. She's a nightmare!"
"I met her last time," Luke said. "She thought you wouldn't talk to her because you think she's beneath you."
"Believe me, that is not it."
"I doubt she'll want to talk to me. She looked scared when she found out about my father."
"Even better," Ophelia said. "She'll stay away from both of us then. Besides, I hear your father is forcing you to attend these parties until he's satisfied you can socialize. It will look good if you talk with me all evening."
"Where did you hear that?!" Luke said, blushing.
Ophelia shrugged. "The Imperial grapevine. So I'll see you there, then?"
Luke nodded, sighing.
Ophelia left the room, causing Ben to emerge from the alcove where he'd taken refuge from her icy stare.
"Another party?" Ben said. "After what you told me about the last one ..."
"If I behave really well at this one, I'm hoping to convince him that I no longer need 'social training', as he calls it. Then I'll be free of the stupid things."
"Good luck, then."
"It should be a piece of bantha steak," Luke said. "There's only going to be a few people there. I can only hope it passes quickly."
Eight hours later, Luke was discovering that no matter how small a party it was, it was still dragging as slowly, if not slower, than the last one. He had only been here for half an hour, and already he was on his fifth glass of juice. This time, there were exactly two Abyssian young people in attendance, the two sons of the newly instated senator, but they were staying far away and only seemed interested in talking to other Abyssians.
"So," he said, turning to Ophelia, who was standing beside him.
"So," she said, inspecting her glass, as if to make sure it was clean.
Luke gazed around at the other guests, trying to think of something to talk about. He noticed his father, up in the shadows of the balcony as usual, was in conversation with a senior diplomat. Why didn't he ever have any trouble? Perhaps because it was the other party who did most of the talking with his father.
Luke smiled to himself, wondering why anyone would voluntarily offer to make small talk with his silent, moody father.
"Um," Luke said, turning back to Ophelia. "Did you catch any of the blade racing last night?"
"Blade racing?" She sounded bored.
"Yes. Malastare versus Toydaria. I was so sure Malastare was going to win this one. I've been following their progress for years, but the Toydarian team have been out of this galaxy this season."
Ophelia didn't reply.
"Uh ... so are you into any HoloNet sports?" Luke asked.
Ophelia rolled her eyes, looking away. "I'm starting to think this was a bad idea."
"It was just a question," Luke protested. "No need to get all moody!"
Ophelia didn't reply, and Luke looked away, sighing. He found himself the subject of his father's appraising stare, however, and he quickly turned back to Ophelia. He couldn't help but wish they were standing in a little less conspicuous space, but Ophelia wasn't satisfied with anything less than the center of the room.
"Why do you hate me?" he asked.
"What? I don't hate you," she said, glancing at him. "You're Lord Vader's son."
"But if I wasn't, you would hate me, right?"
She shrugged. "You're all right, in your own way. But let's be honest, we're from two different galaxies."
"Come on, I'm sure we have something in common," Luke said.
"Of course we do. We're both rich and powerful."
Luke considered telling her he had to do chores to receive what little allowance his father gave him, but then thought better of it.
"But we handle it differently," she continued. "You like to pretend you're not, for some strange reason. For example—associating with that Charity Case at school. Would you see me doing that?"
Luke nodded, sighing. "I get the picture. Two different galaxies."
"I'm so glad you agree."
Luke decided to change the subject. "Um ... do you go to every party like this?" he asked, waving a hand at the room.
"My father and I have a very busy schedule," she said. "We can't go to every party. We've been coming to these because Abyssia is going to be part of the territory my father governs."
"So he's going to be their new boss?" Luke said, looking around until he spotted Ophelia's father. He was chatting with the Abyssian ambassador.
"That's a very crass way of putting it, but yes," Ophelia said.
"I usually see you and your father alone together. Is it just the two of you?"
Ophelia appeared surprised at the question.
"Sorry if that's an awkward subject," Luke said, fidgeting with his glass. "But you know my mother isn't around ... I thought we might have that in common."
"She's a member of the Evexian royal familiy," Ophelia explained. "It's in the sector my father governs. She has her own political duties to perform, so she lives there."
"That must be hard," Luke said.
"What must be hard?"
"Being separated from her," Luke said.
Ophelia didn't appear too disturbed. "I see her occasionally. I can stay there during the semester breaks, if I want. We're not really all that close ... she's busy with her own life and career. I was raised by nannies, mostly."
"I can't really imagine feeling that way," Luke said. "I've never known my mother ... but I would give anything just to spend one second with her. I used to feel the same way about my father, when we were separated."
"It's not that I don't love her, or anything like that," Ophelia explained. "I'm a realist, that's all. My parents got married for political reasons. He was a senator in the Republic at the time, highly regarded by Emperor Palpatine, and Evexia wanted to ensure political and economic stability throughout the Clone Wars and beyond."
Luke had been staring at Ophelia in surprise throughout her explanation. "I've never heard of a marriage like that before."
"You're so naïve. Real life isn't a fairy story. Marriages are always about money, publicity or political gain."
"They are not," Luke insisted. "My parents married because they were in love."
Ophelia gave him a skeptical look, and then she said, "I do miss my brothers, though."
"You have brothers?"
She nodded. "Four of them."
Luke smiled. "I knew another girl with four brothers once. She was nothing like you. Every playground fight was over the second she showed up."
"You think I couldn't win a playground fight?" Ophelia asked, frowning.
Luke raised his hands.
"Perhaps I just don't let that side of myself show when it isn't appropriate," she said. "Growing up with four brothers taught me a lot about power. And ruined any love I once had for HoloNet sports."
Luke smirked. "Fair enough. I'm really only into the racing myself, but I'll go down to the royal guard office to watch a nunaball game sometimes. They all like to shout at the screen."
Ophelia was about to reply, when they were approached by another girl, clad in a long, white dress. Luke recognised Abi Reallis.
"Hello, Ophelia!" she said, in an overly sweet tone.
Ophelia closed her eyes for a moment and screwed up her forehead as if she were concentrating hard on a difficult problem.
"You were saying, Luke?" she prompted.
"Um," Luke said, wondering what he was saying. He smiled at Abi. "Hi again."
Abi looked him up and down, and then said, "Do you like to wear black?"
Her tone was vaguely hostile. It set Luke off balance, wondering exactly what he had done. He looked down at his clothes. "I guess."
"Lord Vader wears black all the time. Are you trying to look like him?"
Luke frowned, but before he could think up a suitable reply, Ophelia provided one for him.
"Oh, wonderful observational skills, Abi. I see you've learned how to tell colors apart. Luke, have you done the homework for galactic geography yet? Because I need some help with the essay."
"Why do you talk to him?" Abi asked Ophelia, while gesturing at Luke. "If you think I'm beneath you, then what does that make him?"
Ophelia glanced between Abi and Luke, confused.
"What are you talking about?" Ophelia asked. "Luke is Lord Vader's son."
"You mean you haven't heard?" Abi said. "If anyone knew things about people around here, I thought it would be you."
Luke felt his heart begin to beat faster. She couldn't mean ... had her father told her the story he'd heard from Ophelia's father?
"Luke, what is she on about?" Ophelia asked. "Sometimes I wonder where one has to go for intelligent conversation in this galaxy."
"I don't know what she's talking about," Luke insisted.
"Sure you do," Abi said, stepping closer. "Why are you hiding it? It's out now—everyone knows. You might as well be open about it. You're not really his son."
"Oh, for star's sake," Ophelia said, rolling her eyes.
Luke couldn't even speak … his throat had grown tight.
"It's true!" Abi insisted. "His father was some Jedi traitor who tried to kill the Emperor. The Jedi tried to hide him in the Outer Rim … that's why he talks like a peasant."
"Outer Rim peasants are better people than many I've met here," Luke said, struggling to control his temper. He stepped back from Abi, trying to give himself some breathing room. "And I am his son," he added. "Ask him yourself if you don't believe me. There are DNA tests which prove—"
Abi sniggered, covering her mouth.
"What?!" Luke asked, angrily.
His tone caused some of the nearby guests to stare at them, but Luke didn't care. He was starting to see why Ophelia had wanted to avoid this girl.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "I shouldn't laugh."
"Stop it, Abi," Ophelia said. "Luke may be adopted, but he's still Lord Vader's son—and more important than you'll ever be."
"I'm not adopted!" Luke protested.
"It's more than that," Abi said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Lord Vader is going to use him to take over the Empire. That's why he took him in."
"You know absolutely nothing about the Emperor, if you think he'd let that go past him," Ophelia said. "Which wouldn't surprise me. And accusing Lord Vader of plotting against the Emperor is treason, so I'd close my mouth if I were you, before someone overhears you."
"He faked DNA tests to convince the Emperor," Abi said. "My father knows all about it. I'm surprised yours doesn't—he must be out of the loop."
"Faked?" Luke repeated, suddenly. No ... it wasn't true!
Abi glanced back at him, looking curious. "You mean you honestly didn't know about any of this? Come on! How could you honestly believe you were his son. That's ridiculous!"
"It's not," Luke said, desperately. "I ... we ... "
"You think if he really wanted to pull this off he'd have chosen someone who actually looked the part," Abi said. "Come on, you're shorter than me!"
"I ... I—" Luke felt a rush of anger, causing the edges of his vision to turn red. Faked tests? Faked?!
"So you really believed this?" Abi asked, now sounding a little confused. "You really thought you were his son?"
"Shut up!" Luke yelled, emptying the remaining contents of his glass all over her.
She screamed loudly. "My dress!"
Everyone in the room stopped talking at the shout and looked in their direction. It didn't help that they were standing in the middle of the room. Even worse, the two young Abyssians were now standing close by.
Luke stared at the dark orange stain of Juri Juice dripping down Abi's front, gradually feeling shock at his action. What had he done?! No longer wanting to deal with the situation, he turned and made a dash for the exit.
He didn't make it very far, though. He passed through the lobby, and the outer corridor, and then found himself blocked at the final exit by two stormtroopers.
"Excuse me, young sir, this is a restricted area."
Luke tried to push past them, but was held back roughly. Within ten seconds, he heard the sound of mechanical breathing behind him. Luke tried to force his way past the guards once more, but it proved futile. He only succeeded in grazing his knuckles against their armor.
"Luke?"
Luke turned around, glaring angrily at Vader. "What?"
Vader returned his gaze for a moment, before waving the troopers away. "Go and post yourselves outside."
They hastily obeyed, closing the outer doors behind them. Luke glanced past Vader, and saw Abi and her father at the other end of the corridor, out of earshot. A serving droid had offered Abi a wet towel, and she was attempting to sponge herself off. Her father appeared to be comforting her.
He glanced back up at Vader, suddenly fearful of his temper.
He didn't appear angry, though. More ... curious.
"What was that about?" he asked, calmly.
"She annoyed me!" Luke said. "I lost my temper."
"What did she say?"
"She ... " Luke trailed off, feeling sick. Here he was, back at square one again. Stuck between a krayt dragon and a sarlacc pit.
"Never mind," Luke said, turning away.
"What did she say?" Vader repeated. "I want a proper explanation, Son."
"It's none of your business!" Luke yelled. He was still calling him 'son', even after all this had happened. Everyone in the Imperial hierarchy was talking about their fake relationship, and he was still pretending there was nothing wrong. He couldn't possibly be completely oblivious.
"Very well," Vader said, raising a finger to point at him. "If you will not give me an explanation, you will instead apologize to the girl and her father for your conduct."
"No!" Luke said, stubbornly.
"Stop acting like a child," Vader said, sounding weary. "You are too old to be behaving like this."
"I'm not going to apologize," Luke said, forcefully. "This is all your fault!"
"What is all my fault? What is behind all this, Son? You have been acting erratically for a week, now. Do you need professional help?"
"I need you to leave me alone," Luke said. "I'm sick of being used and I'm sick of your lies!"
"What lies?"
Luke covered his face, trying to restrain himself from saying anything more he might regret. He needed to be alone, to sort out his next move—if he broke down and revealed everything now ... he didn't even want to contemplate the consequences.
"You are trying my patience," Vader said, finally. "This has gone on long enough. I will find out what is bothering you, with or without your cooperation."
Luke flinched at the thinly veiled threat. He'd forgotten about his father's ability to forcibly read thoughts. "Why don't you just get out your torture robots and interrogate me?!" Luke suggested, trying to hide his fear.
"Is that what I need to do to get a straight answer from you, Son?"
Luke couldn't bring himself to respond.
Eventually, Vader reached out and gripped him firmly by the shoulder. For a second, Luke thought he was going to force an answer out of him, right then and there. Instead, he was taken across to a different door, which led out to the landing pad. Vader gestured to a stormtrooper, who walked over quickly.
"Escort my son back to the palace," he said to the trooper.
"Yes, sir."
He gave Luke a surprisingly gentle push, considering the circumstances. Luke didn't need the encouragement.
Vader was surprised he had managed to keep his own temper during that exchange. Something was keeping it at bay. Perhaps it was the worry ... he was becoming increasingly worried about his son, and this incident had done much to intensify that feeling. It simply wasn't like Luke to behave like this. His son was normally a good-natured, high-spirited young man, not brooding and moody. Something serious was bothering him, and try as he might, he would not confide in him.
He let out a long, slow breath as he returned to the balcony, hoping that the remainder of the evening would pass quickly.
"Teenagers," he sighed.
Beside him, Grand Moff Halifax glanced at him in surprise. "They can be a gundark in a galley, that's for certain."
Vader looked at him, reciprocating his surprise. He didn't realize he had spoken the word out loud. Beside the man, his daughter spoke up in indignation. "Dad!"
"I don't mean you," he said, pulling his daughter into a half-embrace. "Having had both, I can safely say that daughters are far superior to sons, when it comes to the teenage years."
"What has led you to that conclusion?" Vader asked, curious.
"Five broken windows, and two smashed doors. Oh, and one broken table. Then I discovered military school, and life has never been better since."
"I would debate that," the Abyssian ambassador spoke up. "My sister gave my parents far more trouble than I ever did."
"The girls may be less prone to breaking the walls," a senator added, joining the conversation. "But wait until they start bringing home the potential mates ... then you'll begin to wonder which is easier."
The adults continued to discuss the issue, and Vader withdrew into his own thoughts. A daughter ... now there was a fascinating prospect.
For a moment, he pictured a girl, looking much like Padmé. Just as fiercely independent, just as passionate about changing the galaxy, and just as idealistic. Rather than dealing with constant nagging about learning to fly, it would instead be 'Father, can I run for senator?', 'Father, can I pass a law to afford greater rights to refugees?' Vader shuddered slightly, picturing his imaginary daughter bringing home a man just as reckless and foolish as he'd been when he'd married Padmé.
I would choke him to death, he thought, taking much pleasure in the idea.
"Um ... Lord Vader, sir?"
Vader brushed away his daydream and glanced down at the young lady beside him. It was Halifax's daughter, an age-mate of Luke's. She looked up at him, clearly nervous. After a few seconds, she spoke.
"Sir, I don't know if Luke told you, but Abi Reallis said some nasty things to provoke him. It wasn't really his fault."
Vader, quickly recovering from his surprise at being addressed by someone so young, suddenly saw an opportunity arising for some answers to his questions.
"No, he did not," he said. "I would appreciate anything you could tell me."
"Well, there has been a rumor going around that Luke is really the son of some Jedi, and you adopted him from the Outer Rim—and Abi was implying that means Luke isn't your real son." Ophelia paused for a moment. "That's not true, of course," she added, quickly. "I know that. But Luke appears to believe it is."
Several seconds passed before Vader could appreciate the full implication of the words.
"Not my real son?" he repeated, scarcely able to believe it.
"I don't know the entire story," Ophelia explained. "I'm above all that gossip, of course. But I'm sure someone else will."
Vader abruptly turned, heading for the exit.
During the flight home, Luke had finally reached a conclusion. He couldn't stay here any longer. He thought it wouldn't matter if he was living a lie, but that had proved to be false. He was falling apart like this.
Besides, Vader was going to force the truth out of him when he returned to the palace. And what would he do with him then, when he discovered his carefully laid plans had been ruined? Would he ask him to continue living as his son anyway? What if the Emperor found out about the lies—would he kill him?
It didn't matter now, anyway, he'd be long gone by the time Vader came back.
Upon arriving in his bedroom, he quickly shifted over to the closet and pulled out a packing bag. He'd never be able to take all his possessions, but if he could just grab the essentials, it would make his new life a whole lot easier. His clothes and refresher supplies were really all he needed. The rest would have to stay behind.
After emptying his closet of clothes, and sweeping everything from the refresher into the bag, he took a quick glance around the room, looking for something to fill the small remaining space. His eye fell on a blue and white sheet hanging from the wall. His hand began to move towards it, but as he became aware of what it was, he paused. A podracing flag ... a gift his father had given him. He frowned, feeling a wave of anger. He had to stop thinking of Vader as his father.
A tear slid down his cheek, and he angrily reached up to wipe it away. There was nothing to be upset about.
He was better off without him.
Not my real son. It was so utterly stupid, Vader was still struggling to make sense of it.
The very thought that he would have voluntarily submitted himself to this torture. If he ever found the fool who started this rumor, the only fitting punishment would be Skywalker babysitting duty twenty-four hours, every day of the year, preferably when Luke was going through a reckless phase. Then they would know just how likely it was that Luke was adopted.
Do they think I am running some kind of charity orphanage?, Vader thought, as he flew back to the palace. Do the words Dark Lord of the Sith mean nothing to them? Next, they will be claiming the Imperial Palace is a homeless shelter, and the Emperor runs a daycare center in his throne room.
Still, he had always known the vast majority of Imperial politicians were utterly stupid. The Emperor was always wary of smart politicians, for understandable reasons. But he could not use stupidity to excuse his son. How could the boy believe such ridiculous rumors in the face of the obvious truth? How could he trust gossip from the Imperial aristocracy over the truth he had been living for years now? It made no sense at all.
When he came into land, he paused before leaving the speeder. As difficult as it was, he had to make some attempt to understand his son's thought process in this. It would do no good for either of them if he confronted him while angry. The boy was painfully young, after all. Barely more than a child. He couldn't expect him to think and rationalize like an adult.
It was clear the boy had allowed his feelings of inadequacy to blind him to the truth. He had to find a way to reverse this damage. Yelling and lecturing, as tempting as it was, probably wasn't the best approach.
Vader considered the various options, before finally opening the speeder door.
He could only hope his idea would work.
Luke was just in the process of jamming the last corner of the flag into his packing case, when, out of nowhere, his door comm terminal began to make a loud, incessant beep. He looked toward it in fright. Vader couldn't possibly be back already! That party was supposed to go on for at least another hour ...
The doors slid open, and the rhythmic mechanical breathing put an end to Luke's desperate wish that it was only Lev. He quickly stepped back from the collection of objects he had gathered and pushed the bag aside, trying to hide the fact that he was packing.
Vader walked forward, his dark shape filling Luke's vision completely. He paused for a moment, looking around.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" Luke insisted.
"Are you packing?"
Luke remained quiet.
"Where, exactly, are you intending to go? The street? Back to Tatooine?"
"Anywhere, just ... " Luke couldn't finish the thought out loud. Away from you. "You can't stop me," he said, finally. It sounded weak, even to his ears.
But surprisingly, Vader agreed. "Very well. You may leave if you wish. You are not my prisoner."
"You ..." Luke glanced down at his bag. "You mean it?"
"Certainly. Do you need assistance in packing?"
Luke shook his head. "All done."
Vader stood aside, clearing his path to the door.
Luke hoisted the bag over his shoulder. He took one step towards the door and then hesitated.
Something had changed. It made no sense otherwise. This morning, Vader wouldn't have let him stay out one minute after his curfew, never mind allow him to leave for good. He must have discovered the truth. It was the only explanation for this.
Luke glanced at Vader in shock. Now that he knew his plans had been revealed, he wanted nothing more to do with him.
"So ... this is it, then?" Luke asked, shakily.
"Is it?"
"It's ... uh ... it's been fun, I guess."
Luke resumed his walk towards the door. He paused before reaching it though and turned back.
"You're really going to just stand there and let me leave?"
"Is that not what I'm doing?"
Luke struggled to prevent tears from welling up in his eyes. "You're not even going to say goodbye? Did the past two years mean nothing to you?"
"It is not I who is leaving."
Luke fidgeted for a moment and took another step towards the door. He reached up and pressed the button which resulted in the doors sliding open, clearing his exit.
He stepped over the door frame, and began to walk down the corridor. He listened for Vader to follow him, but there was only silence. Luke began to walk a little slower, seeing the elevator was growing closer a little too quickly. As that distance lessened, his uncertainty grew.
This felt ... wrong, somehow. Something was urging him to go back and get some answers. Despite what he knew, there was still a connection there. A connection he could not deny.
Finally, Luke paused and made an about-turn. This may be a mistake, but he couldn't help it. His curiosity was getting the better of him.
Once in the room, he saw Vader was still there, having not moved from his earlier position.
"Did you forget something?" he asked.
Luke let his bag drop to the floor, and he folded his arms. "I need some answers. Before I leave."
"What do you want to know?"
Luke was about to speak, then he hesitated. "How ... how did you find out?" he asked, finally.
"One of your age-mates saw fit to inform me, a short time ago."
There was a drawn-out silence, until Vader prompted him. "Is that all?"
"No," Luke said, suddenly angry. His voice was breaking with the strain, but he was past caring. "I want to know why! Why you took me in and made me think I was your son when I wasn't. How could you lie to me like that? I trusted you!"
"For a number of reasons," Vader started, somewhat casually.
Almost too casually. Luke frowned, angry that he could brush this off so easily.
"I had too much leisure time on my hands," he said, using the Force to clear a space on the bed. "Helping run an Empire only takes a miniscule portion of the day, after all. I wanted to take on the fulltime job of being a parent, just to relieve my boredom. I had stared death in the face too many times to count, but somehow it just wasn't enough. I needed a greater trial. I needed more stress and destruction in my life."
He sat down, leaving Luke blinking in surprise at this revelation. Of all the excuses he'd been expecting to hear ...
"Everything was too routine and ordered," Vader continued. "I wanted the kind of lifestyle where it was impossible to plan for the next five minutes, lest an adolescent drama decide to plague my life."
He's kidding, Luke realized, with sudden shock.
"And most of all, my devotion to the ways of the Sith were causing underlings to view me in a somewhat negative light," he added. "They would obey all orders immediately and without question. I wanted to relax my reputation somewhat ... what better way than by adopting someone who would roam the corridors wearing only a towel and address me with diminishing appellations? A flawless plan, was it not?"
"It ... it's not true, is it?" Luke asked, fighting to hold back tears of relief. "I am your real son?"
"Don't get me started," his father said, with a sudden dangerous edge.
"I didn't know what to believe," Luke protested. "I was so confused!"
"Perhaps if you had actually thought about this for any length of time, rather than reaching conclusions based purely on your own adolescent insecurities. How could you believe rumor and hearsay so easily?"
"You don't understand," Luke sniffed. "I wasn't supposed to hear any of it ... it was an accident! They were talking alone, in an empty corridor. They said you told Governor Tarkin you had killed a Jedi named Skywalker. Then you took me to use to overthrow the Emperor, and he sounded like he really knew what he was talking about ... what was I supposed to think?!"
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have put this matter to rest immediately."
"But if it had been true ... telling you could have meant that I'd be looking for a new home! Come on, what would you have done in my position?"
"I would not have trusted people who spread rumors."
"You don't trust anyone."
"I trust people to be dishonest."
Luke groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "But I didn't know what you'd do," he continued, miserably. "I went to the library to try and find anything that could prove who my father was, but someone had gone through and deleted my records. You're trying to hide something from me—admit it!"
"Of course your records aren't publicly available. Such a thing would put you in serious danger."
"But it looked suspicious!" Luke said. "Then I went to my doctor to ask about DNA tests, and he showed me the results of the one you requested, so I thought I was safe. But then Abi told me you had faked DNA test results to convince the Emperor that I was your son, and I lost it!" Luke shook his head, clearing his eyes again. "We're so different," he said, in a quiet voice.
"Less so than either of us are willing to admit, perhaps," his father said, calmly.
Luke almost smiled, despite his confusion. He had to admit his father had a point. There were aspects of his father's personality that he went to great lengths to deny having himself. But he'd never considered that it might go the other way, as well.
"I guess you're really angry with me," Luke said, finally, looking at the floor. "I ruined yet another party. I made your life miserable for days. I really thought you weren't my father."
His father let out a weary breath, and then stood up to close the distance between them. Luke glanced up, somewhat nervous. His father rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, though.
"Not with you. I was—I am—angry that you did not confide in me as soon as you heard these rumors. I thought we had a better relationship than that, young one. It seems we still have a long way to go."
"It wasn't your fault," Luke insisted, distressed at the idea that his father would blame himself. "It was me ... I ... well, I guess I was feeling—see, if it had been true, then I wouldn't have to fit into this society anymore. I could go back to being ... just Luke. I don't want to be part of this world, but I do want to be your son. I'm still trying to figure out how to want one, without wanting the other. Believing I wasn't your son just seemed like a solution. A bad solution, but it was a solution."
"Luke, you have always been my son. While you were living on Tatooine, you were my son, and while you were living as an orphan, you were still my son. Whether or not you ever learn to be part of this society, you will still be my son. Our continued relationship is not dependent on you passing these social tests.
"You mean I can hate these parties, but still like being your son?"
"Yes," his father sighed, with a touch of weariness.
"But—"
"What?"
Luke fidgeted with his sleeve for a moment, uncertain as to how his father would react to this, but knowing he had to ask.
"How do you know?" he said, finally. "That I'm your son. For sure, I mean. Isn't there a chance that the tests really were faked?"
His father let out a somewhat frustrated breath. "You are still having doubts?"
"Not doubts ... not exactly. I'm just curious. You have to admit that we make a pretty strange family."
"I know you are my son because of our bond through the Force."
"I don't understand," Luke said. "Why does that make you sure?"
His father studied him silently for a few moments. "Perhaps I can show you," he said, eventually.
"Show me?"
"Yes, but not here," his father said, releasing Luke and beckoning him to follow. "It will be easier if we go to a place strong with the Force."
Luke rubbed his head and moved to follow. "The Force?" he said, struggling to keep pace with his father. "What does that have to do with this? And I thought you weren't allowed to discuss that with me."
"You will see," his father said. "I may not be allowed to train you in the ways of the Force, but I will not have you growing up in ignorance of your birthright."
They entered the elevator, and his father keyed in a level that was almost right at the bottom. Below the administration offices. Below the basement ship hangars, even.
"What's down there?" Luke asked.
"You will see," his father repeated. "Be patient."
Luke watched the floor number drop lower and lower. He rubbed his head slightly, wondering briefly at how quickly things could change. Just a moment ago, he'd been determined to leave, and now he was on his way to some mysterious place, where he would supposedly learn something new about the Force. He couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed, as the elevator arrived at the final floor. His father stepped out first, and Luke followed him down a long, narrow corridor. There were strange symbols carved into the walls. At the end, he turned sideways and reached out to tap a security code into a door terminal.
When the doors slid open, Luke found himself standing at the entrance to some sort of meditation room. It was devoid of all furniture, apart from several cushioned cylinders. The walls were, as most were in the building, pitch black. There were various silver pyramid symbols carved into the ceiling, however. It was an odd triangular room, with the door at one corner.
"What is this place?" Luke said, following his father in. "I've never been in here before."
"It is where I come when I need some peace and quiet," his father said, sitting down on one of circular seats. He used the Force to drag a second one forward and gestured for Luke to sit opposite.
Luke walked forward slowly, staring at the ceiling.
"It's spooky here," he said, shuddering slightly as he sat down. "I can feel ...no, maybe it's nothing."
"This is also a miniature temple," his father explained. "The Force is strong here."
"I thought the Force was everywhere," Luke said. "How can it be stronger in one place than in another?"
His father appeared to think for a moment, and then he changed the subject. "Never mind that now. I brought you here for a reason. Come closer."
Luke shuffled the round seat forward a few centimeters, until he was alongside and opposite his father. His father reached out a hand and placed it flat on his chest.
Luke was about to ask what he was doing, when he suddenly became aware of something. It was a feeling already familiar to him, but it was usually a lot weaker than this. It was ... a mental connection, between his father and himself. Through it, he could sense his father's presence, and even a little of his mood. The feeling steadily grew stronger, until Luke became nervous. How much of his own thoughts could his father sense?
He felt his father respond to his nervousness, and the feeling leveled off. Luke gradually became used to it, and he closed his eyes a moment, exploring the link.
"How do you do that?" Luke asked.
"It is not me, Son. It is you."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You are reaching out to me ... forming a mental bond."
"I know," Luke said. "I can feel a little of what you're feeling."
"As I can sense you."
Luke continued to experiment with the link, fascinated with the prospect of being mentally joined to someone. It was the ultimate freedom of communication.
"Why do we have this link?" Luke asked. "Is it because we're both Force sensitive?"
"Weak mental links can be formed between all Force users," his father explained. "But an attachment of this level is unheard of."
"Why can we do it, then?" Luke asked.
"Because we are relatives. See?"
His father shifted the texture of their bond, slightly, guiding Luke to a new aspect. Luke probed deeper, curious as to what he was sensing on the other end of the bond. It felt like part of his own mind, except it wasn't, it was clearly on his father's end.
"We're the same?" Luke said.
"No. You are my child."
Luke suddenly understood. He was sensing the part of his father which he had passed on to him. The part of themselves which they shared. A little like the chromosomes Ben had mentioned, except this wasn't something you could see with a micro-scanner. Luke couldn't help but smile. He understood why his father wanted to show him this ... he could feel the truth in their relationship.
I guess we're really not so different, after all, Luke thought.
Perhaps not.
Luke started. "Did you just talk in my head?" he asked.
His father didn't reply, but he felt confirmation over the bond.
You mean you can hear my thoughts? Luke asked.
Only when you send them to me.
This is neat, Luke sent, who needs a comlink when you have the Force?
The Force is not for your entertainment, Son. It is only used for worthy tasks.
I know, Luke thought, do you think the Emperor would be mad if he knew we were doing this?
That is my concern, Son, not yours.
After a brief moment of silence, his father added something.
There is no need to be worried.
I'm not worried!
Yes, you are. You can't hide your feelings in this state.
Luke instantly felt nervous. Many concerns came rushing into his mind, and he struggled to rein them in.
Relax, Son. I can only sense your feelings, not your thoughts.
Are you sure? You've read my mind before.
Luke instantly felt pain on the other end of the bond, and it caused him to flinch. Even though it hurt, he couldn't bring himself to withdraw from the link. He was curious as to why his father was hurting. He wasn't used to the idea ... his father always seemed so stoic. The pain soon became something different .. it almost felt like ... regret.
What's wrong? Luke asked.
I don't believe I ever apologized for that, Luke. I should not have forcibly read your mind. I lost my temper.
It's all right, Luke said, surprised to hear his father apologize to him. Twice in one week now. We weren't getting on very well, then. Things are better now, though. Only ..
Only, what?
Did you mean all that stuff you said, earlier, Luke said, about me destroying your orderly life?
Yes.
Why do you keep me around, then? Luke asked.
A mystery I shall never know the answer to.
You care about me, Luke sent, playfully, A lot. I can sense it.
His father removed his hand, and Luke felt the bond dissolve.
"It is well past your bedtime, young one."
Luke yawned in agreement.
"Unless you are still planning to leave."
Luke shrugged. "Well, I am already packed ... but maybe I should stay. I wouldn't want your life to get boring."
"Good. Then you will be available to attend the treaty-signing tomorrow."
Luke groaned, reluctantly standing up. "Treaty signing! Then what was that party for this evening?"
"That was the installation of their new senator."
"This is getting ridiculous," Luke said.
"I think you will like the treaty signing," his father said, guiding him out of the meditation room.
"Sure I'll like it," Luke said, as they entered the elevator. "Like I like the dentist."
"It will be held aboard the Abyssian ship in orbit."
Luke went from sleepy to wide-awake in a heartbeat. "Space? Going?! Us?"
His father turned and gave him the look that only a long-suffering parent could give.
"Wow!" Luke said. "Do you think I'll be able to—?"
"No," his father said.
"But—"
"No."
Luke frowned. "You don't even know what I'm asking."
"The answer is still no. There will be no time for anything which you find exciting."
Luke sighed, nodding.
"And," his father added, as they stepped out of the elevator, "don't lose your temper with anyone. I do not care how annoying they may be."
"Do as I say, and not as I do policy, huh?" Luke asked.
"Exactly."
They paused outside Luke's bedroom door.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning, then," Luke said. He made to enter his bedroom, but his father stopped him, resting his hand on his shoulder.
"One final thing."
"What?"
"I wasn't going to let you leave, young one."
Luke looked at the floor, smiling to himself. "I know," he said quietly.
"But don't call me young one!" Luke added, looking back up at his father. "It's patronizing."
"I could say the same about the manner in which you addressed me in front of Tarkin," his father said, pointing at him.
"'Dad' is affectionate, not patronizing," Luke said.
"Affection is patronizing," his father insisted.