Chapter 9

The sight of his son, standing in a place that by all rational expectation was impossible for him to be, filled Vader with both surprise and fear. Was he still meditating? Had this entire board and capture operation merely been an elaborate vision, conjured by the Force? He stared at Luke, half expecting another four copies of him to come running around the corner.

Father!

The mental shout was repeated, and Vader knew instantly that this was indeed reality.

Luke?! What in the galaxy ...

Luke started to run forward, but his stormtrooper watchers pulled him back roughly. They pushed him forward with the tips of the blaster barrels, almost causing Vader to say something in protest. The group came to a halt in front of him and Commander Wing. Luke stared up with an unrestrained relief in his shining blue eyes, and then grinned widely. Vader could sense him trying to test his mood over their link. At the moment, he was feeling nothing but absolute and total surprise.

"Sirs, we found this one near the bridge," one stormtrooper said, completely oblivious to the family reunion going on in front of him. "He was unarmed. Should we put him in with the Rebel soldiers or with the officers?"

"A child," the commander said, staring at Luke. "How typical of the Rebel scum, my lord. Save their own skins while leaving children behind."

I can explain! Luke sent. I can explain everything!

Vader couldn't bring himself to reply, either to Commander Wing or to his son's erratic telepathy.

"I doubt he knows much," the commander continued. "However, if he is the son of one of the Rebel officers, he could be useful as a tool to make them talk. He should be processed with the other prisoners. Do you agree, Lord Vader?"

Vader gave Luke one last disbelieving stare, and then turned to the commander.

"I am ... familiar with this particular Rebel. Leave him with me. I will interrogate him personally."

The commander turned to the troopers. "You heard Lord Vader. Return to your patrols."

The troopers saluted, and marched off down the corridor.

"Commander, I will leave this ship in your hands," Vader said. "Take what crew you need, and see about making any necessary repairs. The Harbinger will provide escort to the Fondor ship yards, and then return to Coruscant."

"As you wish, my lord. I estimate we will be ready to detach in an hour. I will return to the bridge and supervise from there."

The commander saluted, and walked past Luke. Vader noticed he gave Luke a slightly sympathetic look as he passed by, clearly thinking he was going to be in for something very unpleasant. You have no idea, Vader thought, meeting his son's gaze. His surprise had reduced, and had been replaced with another, more natural emotion. Anger.

He looked Luke up and down, seeing evidence of reckless behavior from the bottom of his muddy boots to the top of his bedraggled hair.

Luke tried a smile. "Interrogate me. Good one." He held up his binder-clad wrists. "Can we get rid of these?"

"I wasn't joking."

Luke's smile faded and he let his wrists fall. "Listen, this isn't as bad as it looks!"

"How can it possibly not be as bad as it looks?" Vader said, incredulous. "You are supposed to be at the camp on Kawai VI. Now I find you on a Rebel ship. There is a vast difference between those two locations, Son. Not merely measured in lightyears."

"Will you relax?" Luke said. "I haven't joined the Rebellion! I didn't even know this was a Rebel ship until I got here. My friend Zev at the camp needed to escape, so I helped him."

"You helped him join the Rebellion? Is that what you are telling me?"

"I ... uh ... why do you always twist things around to make it sound worse?"

"I do not need to twist anything. It is already unbelievably bad. Luke, you never cease to amaze me. I always imagine you cannot possibly top your last stunt, and then you make it your mission in life to prove me wrong. I thought stowing away on a bounty hunter's ship had to be the high point in your crusade to drive me to insanity, and now I find you roaming the galaxy with the Rebellion!"

"I have already said I didn't know it was the Rebellion," Luke said. "It was an acci—"

"Don't you dare," Vader said, waving a finger at him. If he heard those words one more time, something was going to snap.

Luke quickly shut up.

"You could have been killed! Do you have any idea what these people would have done if they'd known you were my son?"

"The captain knew," Luke said, quietly. "He was going to transport me back to the camp. It was the stormtroopers who nearly shot me, not the Rebels."

"You were nearly shot?!"

"They missed by at least three meters," Luke insisted.

Vader stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to release his anger into the Force. He could barely remember how to do that, it had been so long. A Sith Lord did not normally have need for restraint. But, of course, a Sith Lord normally didn't have to raise a teenage son. Eventually, Vader looked back down.

"What am I going to do with you?" He stared at Luke for a moment, and then said. "I feel like I have aged ten years in the last five minutes."

Luke stared at his boots. "I'm sorry."

"You are sorry. Is that all?"

"I don't know what else to say," Luke said. "Just that I'm really tired, hungry and wet. I thought I was going to end up in a prison cell. You've got no idea how glad I was to see you ..."

"Wet?" Vader said, confused. "How did you get wet?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Vader picked a piece of water-weed out of his son's hair, and then gave him a look that was a mix of sheer disbelief and ongoing frustration.

"Come with me," he said, finally, feeling more than a little weary.

Luke stayed close to his father as they moved through the corridors of the Star Destroyer. They appeared to be taking the back routes, as they encountered no one except droids and stormtroopers, who certainly didn't bother to stare at him or ask questions. At first, Luke was wary of his father's mood, and didn't want to make anything worse. But the excitement of being on such a huge ship soon became too much.

"Can I see the bridge?" he asked, quietly.

"It is good you have managed to maintain your sense of humor in all this," his father said, guiding him into a nearby elevator. He pushed the button for the hangar bay.

"Come on ... please?"

"No. I will not have you endearing yourself to the crew with your farmboy-in-space routine. Your presence here has thus far remained between us, and I intend to keep it that way. We will be leaving immediately."

"Farmboy in space?!" Luke said. "That's not fair."

"I believe we established a long time ago that I am not fair."

Too true, Luke thought.

There was silence until the elevator reached its destination. His father gripped his upper arm as they walked across the deck, and kept a firm hold until they reached a shuttle. Once on board, he was unceremoniously dumped in the co-pilot's seat.

"Don't touch anything. And don't move."

Luke bowed his head.

"I suppose it is pointless to ask if you have a change of clothes with you."

Luke flexed his shoulders, realizing his backpack was absent. The last time he remembered having it was when he and Zev were stowing away in the back of the freighter. A freighter that could be anywhere by now. Luke considered it, and then remembered Bran had told him the freighter's cargo had been dumped. Chances were that his belongings were among the crates.

"All my things are in my backpack," Luke said. "It's still on the Rebel ship ... most likely in the ship hangar, among the cargo. Maybe I should go back for it ..."

"What part of 'don't move' wasn't clear to you, Luke?"

Luke sighed.

"I will go back and retrieve your belongings. You will remain here, young one. That is an order."

"Yes, sir," Luke mumbled, sarcastically. Unfortunately, he'd become so used to saying that sincerely at camp it came out sounding less sarcastic than he liked. Regardless, his father chose to ignore it and he left the shuttle, moving quickly. Luke sunk his head down on the instrument panel, wondering when this day would be over.

Retrieving Luke's belongings from the Rebel ship took longer than Vader expected. Every three meters he was stopped by officers and stormtroopers needing guidance. Their inexperience was an annoyance, but he had to admit the boarding operation had gone as well as he could expect. Perhaps it was his overriding concern with his son, but he couldn't bring himself to care that a few minor ships had escaped. The loss of Captain Flenn, who had taken his own life along with several troops in a thermal detonator explosion, was a far greater annoyance, but even that couldn't compare to the fact of finding his son in this place of death and violence.

He could only hope his good fortune would continue, and word of Luke's presence on the Harbinger would not be revealed. The last thing he wanted was "Darth Vader's Son: The Rebel!" headlines splashed all over the underground HoloNet. His master would not be impressed. The most important thing now was to return to Mustafar as soon as possible.

When he entered the shuttle, he found his son dozing with his head on the ship's controls, shivering slightly with cold. He released a weary breath as he placed the backpack beside him, and then turned to start the pre-flight warm up sequence.

"You should change out of your wet clothes," he said, taking a seat.

"A little difficult with these," Luke mumbled, holding out his bound wrists.

Vader waved a hand over them, causing them to fall to the deck with a clang. Luke made a half-hearted attempt to dig in his backpack, but then he sat back in the seat. He remained quiet until the shuttle launched, and Vader began calculating the jump to hyperspace.

"Where are we going?" he asked, softly.

Vader finished the calculations, and then waited for the navigation computer to confirm. Once it was finished, he pulled back the lever, sending the stars into streaks of blue light.

"Mustafar," he confirmed.

Luke visibly slumped with relief. "Home," he whispered. There was so much emotion behind the word, Vader glanced at him in surprise. This was a different tune from the usual mocking references to the 'lava fortress of doom' or 'your evil volcano lair'.

"You consider Mustafar to be home?" he enquired.

Luke shrugged. "Home is where you are," he mumbled, keeping his gaze averted.

An odd memory flickered through Vader's mind. Anakin, explaining his own philosophy of home to Padmé. Home was always where my mom was. He pushed it aside.

"This camp must have been hellish to change your opinion on the relative merits of Mustafar as a destination," Vader remarked.

Luke nodded. "I thought the commander would have told you," he said, looking at the floor. "He said he was going to contact you."

"He did. He said you were unhappy about the weather. And what is this about you threatening to choke someone?"

Luke visibly cringed. "That was taken out of context. I was having an argument with someone about ... well, it was about you. He said something, and then I said something ... anyway, it's not important. It wasn't the weather that was annoying."

"So the other boys were picking on you?"

Luke shook his head. "No. They were all right. I knew one already from school."

"You didn't enjoy spending time outdoors?"

Luke repeated the shrug. "It was pretty. So green. I guess I enjoyed some of the activities."

"Then what was it? Too many rules? Did the officers treat you badly?"

Luke shook his head. "They were fine. Well, apart from one, who was always picking on my friend Zev. You'd have liked him, which says it all. He hit him with a punishment stick."

"A punishment stick," Vader repeated. "Is that what I need to motivate you to behave?"

His tone was light, but Luke cringed at the words and fidgeted with the edge of the armrest. "I would prefer it to being sent away," he mumbled, pain evident in his voice.

Vader studied his son, realizing he was being entirely serious. It took him a moment to process the wider implications of Luke's words. It seemed he now had an answer as to why he was clearly so miserable at the camp.

"Luke, you attending the camp was not a punishment. It was a solution for the boredom you were experiencing on Coruscant."

His son did not reply. He appeared to be struggling with his emotions, and he brought a hand up to cover his eyes.

"Is this why you decided to go chasing after a Rebel ship?" Vader asked, having a troubling thought. Did his son imagine he had rejected him so thoroughly that running away was a viable option?

It took Luke a moment to respond. "I just wanted to help Zev get away from the officer who was mistreating him. So we stowed aboard a freighter. We had no idea it was going to a Rebel ship."

"Where did you think it would be going?" Vader asked, feeling his old annoyance flare up. Luke always offered such illogical explanations. "Did you expect to be taken back to Coruscant?"

"I don't know," Luke said, matching his annoyed tone. "All I know is that I helped out a friend in need. Maybe it got a little out of hand ... a lot out of hand. I'll learn from my mistake. If you want to disown me, then go ahead ... I'm sick of trying to meet your impossible expectations! You're always angry with me over something."

"Luke—"

"I can't do it," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I can't be perfect all the time. It didn't used to be like this. You used to … you just used to handle it when I made mistakes. You didn't give up on me."

"I have never—"

"You did!"

He suddenly activated their mental link, and Vader was caught off guard. A rush of pained emotions flowed over the bond, threatening to choke him. He tried to mentally back away, but Luke was trying to communicate something. Memories of being dropped at the camp, and then his son's subsequent guilt over his lack of any goodbye. Images of another boy telling him of his own strained relationship with his father, causing fear and anxiety. Then a random mix of disgust and sadness over a variety of things, including the image of a dead stormtrooper, lying on the deck of the Rebel ship. A confused rush of feelings and images that made little sense followed this, until Luke finally released the link, and slumped back in exhaustion.

"Warn me before doing that," Vader complained. Being fourteen once was bad enough. Having to relive it through his son's turbulent emotions was not how he would have chosen to have this conversation.

"I don't want us to end up like Zev and his father," Luke said, sounding near tears.

Vader took a slow breath, considering how to approach this. Luke was right in some respects. He did used to handle it. At least, as far as Luke was aware. He kept all his second-guessing and insecurities about his abilities as a parent well hidden. Something had slipped in the first weeks of this summer vacation, and he knew why. It was difficult to project an air of confidence when you were battling your own inner fears.

All this had left his son feeling insecure and fearful. He needed his reassurance. But as usual, the words didn't come easily. Lecturing him always felt more natural than admitting that he cared. It was easier to let their bond take care of that, but he wasn't risking that again. At least until his son was feeling calmer.

"I am not always angry with you," he said, finally. "And expecting you to not recklessly endanger your life is not impossible."

Luke made a vaguely disagreeable noise.

"I have no desire to disown you. You are my son, and no amount of reckless behavior will ever change that."

This time, Luke was silent.

Vader paused for a moment, recalling some fuzzy details from his most recent vision. He knew what he had to say. Even the subconscious characters in his mind knew what he had to say. It didn't make it any easier.

"Luke, do you ever consider how it makes me feel when you purposely endanger your life?"

"I know it makes you angry."

"Why do you think it makes me angry?"

"Because you're a Sith Lord?"

"Try again."

Luke sighed. "Because you don't want to lose me."

"If your life should be lost needlessly ... it would devastate me. I can't imagine a future without you by my side."

Luke looked up, taken aback. "I ... really?"

Vader paused, taking strength from the Force. He met Luke's gaze. "When I lost your mother, my life was ... destroyed. I spent years trying to piece it back together. When you resurfaced it was like I was given a second chance. If I should lose you ..."

"It wouldn't be your fault," Luke said.

"I am your father. It is my job to protect you."

"You can't stop me from making mistakes," Luke said. "I can't live without endangering myself sometimes."

"You could try a lot harder."

Luke opened his mouth to argue, but then simply nodded. "Things just seem to get a little crazy sometimes."

"And sometimes I am not providing the attention you need," Vader admitted. "I suspect this is your way of letting me know."

Luke looked away for a moment, not agreeing, but not outright denying, either. Vader knew it was hard for his son to admit to needing his attention. He liked to present himself as independent and mature, not needing anyone to watch out for him, but today's incident indicated more than ever that his son still needed his father. If only to bail him out when things fell outside his control.

"But you are right," Vader continued. "I have been letting my emotions cloud my judgement. Losing my temper is not productive. You already know my expectations, so endlessly repeating them is not productive. You need consistent consequences when you fail to meet them."

"Okay," Luke said, sounding cautious. "Um … when you say consequences … you don't mean you're going to send me back to the camp when we reach Mustafar, right?"

"No. I think your time would be better put to use cleaning out the fuel regulator vents on every ship in the hangar.'

Luke's mouth fell open. "But that will take weeks!"

"Then it is fortunate you have weeks. While you are completing your task, you can meditate on the wisdom of considering all the risks involved before doing anything. For example, the risks of stowing away on a freighter when you do not know its destination."

Luke sighed. "And what are you going to do?" he asked, his voice suggesting he considered this a pretty raw deal so far.

"Continue to show an inhuman amount of patience."

Luke rolled his eyes.

"And," Vader continued, "I require your help with my modifications to the escort shuttle weapons array. When we are finished, you can come for a test flight. Perhaps we will visit some of the neighbouring systems."

"Really?!" Luke said, his eyes lighting up.

"I also have an idea for a droid building project."

"Sounds great!" Luke said. "Could you also help me with that spare N1 starfighter engine? I got stuck with it last time. I think I need some parts."

"Very well."

"I'll get it out as soon as we get back. How long until hyperspace reversion?"

"Young one," Vader said, firmly.

"Okay, okay. You're right. I'll need a shower first." He smiled then. "You sure you don't want to hear about where the waterweed came from?"

"No."

After Vader found a survival blanket in the shuttle's first aid pack, Luke soon drifted off into a nap, slumping down in the co-pilot's seat with the restraints secured around him. He reached out to wake him when they landed in the Mustafar fortress, causing Luke to make a groaning noise and rub at his eyes.

Vaneé stood at the bottom of the boarding ramp, calm as always, but with an added air of surprise.

"I didn't expect you to return so soon, my lord. Are there any prisoners to process? Did you manage to find Captain Flenn?"

"No prisoners," Vader confirmed. There were footsteps at the top of the ramp, and Vaneé's eyes grew wide. "Only one wayward offspring."

Luke never had bothered to change out of his damp and muddy clothes, and he certainly looked a sight under the hangar floodlights. But Vaneé only had an avuncular smile for him, and he reached out to take Luke's backpack.

"Welcome home, young Luke. Let's get you upstairs."

"I don't suppose you have received any communications from the camp?" Vader asked.

"Not a word, sir."

"I think I need to give them a call."

"Don't threaten to kill anyone!" Luke said, waving a finger in the direction of his chest. He paused to yawn. "I mean it! I was banned from doing outdoor activities because of you and your threats."

"What in space have you been doing?" Vaneé said, brushing grass from Luke's backpack.

"Long story," Luke said. "Have you ever tried to disable a force field over a river before?"

"I can't say I have, young man."

Vader watched them leave, idly thinking that, despite everything, it was a relief to have his son back where he could keep an eye on him. Then he made his way to the workroom, going straight to the comm terminal.

By his guess, it was past midnight at the training camp. But the commander answered his call immediately. It was tempting to pretend that he didn't know Luke was missing, just to see how long they would attempt to delay telling him, but such games would require more patience than he possessed right now.

"Commander Hayge," Vader said. "I believe you are missing something."

"We are doing everything we can to—"

Vader held up a hand. "Fortunately for you, he managed to find his way back to me."

"I ... I'm glad to hear it."

"I should have you all executed," Vader said. "But then, I also have a personal insight into how hard it is to get my son to stay in one place. I congratulate you for keeping him there for as long as you did. However, I believe the rest of his vacation will be better spent receiving some personal attention from his father."

"I understand, sir. It was a pleasure having him with us. Sir, if I may ask ... what of Cadet Veers? We assumed they were together, as they went missing at the same time."

Vader absorbed the words, realizing that 'Cadet Veers' must be this friend Luke spoke of that had joined the Rebellion. The name was familiar.

"According to my son, he was last seen in the company of Rebels," Vader explained.

The commander frowned and dropped his gaze. "His father will be devastated."

Vader was about to make some disparaging remark about said father's parenting skills, but a thought made him hesitate. It could just as easily be him in that position. Luke had expressed his dislike of the Emperor on more than one occasion. It wouldn't take much for the Rebel idealists to spin their poisonous lies and mislead his naive young offspring into their traitorous cause. He was the last person who should pass judgement.

"Send him my personal condolences," Vader said. "And remind him that all is not lost. We have successfully reeducated Rebels before. Many come to see the error of their views and return to our fold."

"Very true, sir."

"This defection may hint of a new recruiting tactic among the Rebellion," Vader added. "Adolescents are especially vulnerable to Rebel propaganda. I imagine some would defect simply to spite their parents."

"The enemy truly has no honor," the commander said. "To prey on the young and vulnerable. I assure you, sir, there will be no further defections among my cadets. We will make sure of that."

"See that you do."

Vader cut the call. He stared at the blank holoprojector for a while, considering the situation. Perhaps he should make more of an effort to discuss the political situation with Luke. But some part of him had wanted to preserve his son's innocence as long as possible. Even to give him the kind of childhood he never had. But if today's events had proven anything, it was that Luke was never going to have a normal life.

A short time later, he crossed the main entrance hall and passed through the gate to the elevators, intending to go and check on his son. He encountered Vaneé in the hall outside Luke's room, a service droid close behind him. The droid appeared to be carrying a bag filled with Luke's soiled camp uniform, while Vaneé carried a half-drunk mug of warm milk.

"Out like a light, my lord. It seems he has had a busy day."

"An understatement," Vader said. He hoped Luke hadn't mentioned to Vaneé exactly where his father had found him.

When he entered the bedroom, he found his now freshly-showered son was lying in the middle of the bed, curled up in a deceptively innocent fetal position. A blanket with a TIE fighter pattern was half-draped over him, and Vader reached out to adjust it. Luke stirred slightly, shifting his face into the pillow.

"Night, Dad," he mumbled. "Sorry … 'bout the … Rebel thing."

Vader reached out to pat his shoulder. If only he was like this all this all the time, perhaps even he could manage another four identical Lukes. Or perhaps even a daughter.

Epilogue

Vader stood in front of the elevator in the Imperial Palace, marveling at how good he felt. He would almost go as far to say that he was in a favorable mood. It had been a long time since anyone could say that of him. This truly was a day blessed by the Force.

It was true that the galaxy was plunged further into war as each day passed, and his master grew more demanding by the day. It was also true that he lived in constant pain and isolation behind a restrictive life support device. His past may torment him, and depression and anger may be his constant companions, but none of that mattered today. Today was the day.

Down the corridor, a door slid open with a hissing sound. Luke stepped out, hanging his head like he was going to the dentist. A bag was slung loosely over his right shoulder. It was a slow journey down the corridor, as his son reluctantly put one boot in front of the other, until he was standing a short distance away from Vader.

"How is my favorite son this morning?" Vader enquired.

There was no response.

"You seem unusually dispirited," Vader noted. "What could possibly depress you on such a fine day?"

"And you seem in an unusually good mood," Luke said, giving him an irritated glance. "Stop rubbing it in. And don't play innocent—you know very well what's wrong. You've probably had this day programmed into your calendar for weeks!"

Vader tried, but he couldn't quite keep the amusement out of his voice. "I thought you liked school."

"Not the first day back after summer vacation!"

Vader revealed a black folded box from behind his back. "Here. Something to improve your mood."

Luke accepted the box, and lifted the lid. When he looked back up, his eyes were wide with surprise.

"A packed lunch?"

"I had the droids make it with all your favorite foods."

"Thanks," Luke said, stowing it away in his school bag. "But nothing will improve my mood today."

"I have enough time to give you a ride to school," Vader suggested. "We could take one of the custom-built speeders and impress your classmates."

"Having you drop me off at school wouldn't impress anybody," Luke said. "Terrify people, maybe."

"All the more reason."

Luke shook his head, and then smirked. "You just want to make sure I actually make it through the doors."

Vader waved a finger at his son. "Can you blame me?"

"Come on," Luke said. "I haven't given you any grief since the Rebel ship."

"I know. It makes me suspicious. I wonder if there is some pending disaster on the horizon."

"Oh, I have something in the works," Luke said. "You know me. Full of surprises."

Vader joined him in the elevator, intent on seeing his son to the exit corridor, even if he couldn't take him right to the door of his classroom. Luke was right—that would cause more terror than good.

"By the way," Luke said, looking up. "I've been meaning to ask you something ever since we got back from Mustafar."

Vader had a funny feeling he knew what the question would be, but he played along.

"Proceed."

"Remember that droid I built? The one you called REQ-Less 1? I haven't seen him since I left."

"Perhaps you should ask Artoo for an explanation."

"I did. He denies even knowing what I'm talking about. Why ... you don't mean ... he's gone?" Luke looked up in surprise.

"It might have been possible to piece the wreckage back together," Vader said, considering it. "However, it appears even the remains were destroyed while I was on Mustafar."

"I don't believe this!" Luke said. "Artoo destroyed him?! The droid I spent a week building?! Why? How?"

"Go easy on him, son," Vader said, feeling his mood improve even further. "It was an accident."

Acknowledgements:

Thanks for reading, all.

Zevulon Veers, the son of General Veers from ESB, is a character from the Star Wars: Dark Empire comic book series from the mid-90s. In the Star Wars EU, he didn't join the Rebellion until he was older, but the character fit well here so I adapted it.