The months passed, every day Han and Luke would head out to the ship and they would stay out there working practically until the sun went down. When they finally came in, they often had little energy to do anything other than wash up, eat dinner, and then fall asleep, often, much to Vader's amusement, on top of each other.
On the outside, the ship remained a permanent eyesore, despite Han's renovations. Vader made a point of staying out of the ship until his sons asked him in, he didn't want them to think he was intruding. He knew how much this meant to Han, even if he firmly believed his son could've picked a far superior ship to make his permanent home. He kept his doubting thoughts to himself, but certain things kept bothering him, he didn't like the idea of his son out there in the galaxy on any ship that didn't have a bacta tank. He also didn't like the idea of his son living for weeks on end on nothing but ration packs. Fortunately fathers and sons must think alike because one major renovation Han made was he and Luke converted one corner of the bunk room into a small kitchen. It shouldn't have come as any surprise to the dark lord that another addition they made was installing a hologame table in the ship's lounge.
Finally the day came when Han announced they were done with the modifications. It was more impressive than when Vader first saw it, but he still wished his son would've picked a different model anyway.
"Most impressive," he concluded. "I'm proud of you two."
There was a small, self conscious smirk on Han's face as he glanced towards the floor, "Thanks, Pop." He looked up again and added, "I'm anxious to take it out and see if I get any offers for work...and if you don't mind, for the first trip out I wouldn't mind having Luke go with me."
"Really?" Luke's eyes doubled in size.
"I don't foresee a problem with that," Vader answered, "however-"
"I know, Pop, I know," Han replied, "I'll be careful."
"Me too," Luke offered.
Weeks passed, everything seemed to go in cycles. Luke and Han would head out on the Millennium Falcon as he'd decided to christen it, they'd be gone a week at a time or so, they'd come back, sometimes Han would stay until there was another job, sometimes he'd drop Luke off home and take off on his own. When Luke was home he yammered constantly about everything he and his brother had done out in the galaxy. It was all one big adventure for his younger son, but Vader knew it was so much more than that for Han. He worried about them when they were both gone, and when Han was out there on his own, even considering his esteemed career in the Navy, Vader couldn't help worry about him as well. He never felt easy about it until he knew the Falcon was entering Coruscant's orbit. He knew realistically he was not told everything that went on during their escapades, but he hoped if his sons ever found themselves in any real danger that they would contact him.
Luke was crumpled on the floor in a heap, dumbstruck that he wasn't already dead, but he sure felt like it. He had no idea how bad the damage was, he was terrified to even open his eyes, there was a searing pain spread across his whole face, what if he was blind? What if...
"Luke!"
"Han!"
He heard his brother drop to the floor beside him and felt Han grab him under the arms to pull him to his feet. He half wanted to ask what had happened but he was too terrified to know. Han was yammering a mile a parsec reassuring Luke he was okay, which only served to worry the younger man even more. They were moving, where to he didn't know, he heard Han yelling at other people but the words weren't clear.
"You're okay, kid, you're gonna be fine," Han told him.
The uncertainty was driving Luke crazy, he risked opening his eyes and found he could still actually see.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You got lucky," Han told him.
Luke's head was spinning but he was able to see they were heading to a med bay. Han was barking orders at the medic droids as soon as they walked in, he marched Luke over to a table and pushed him down on it.
"What happened?" Luke asked again, everything feeling like a total blur.
"What happened," Han answered as he picked up a bottle, "was you got attacked by a rampaging wookiee that broke out of the detention center. Cover your eyes."
Luke did as he was told, and grimaced and whined as he felt the cold bacta being sprayed on his face.
"Eww, that's gross!" he complained.
"You're lucky it just clawed your face," Han told him, "those things have been known to rip people's arms clear out of their sockets."
"Is that it?" Luke honestly couldn't remember, his whole body was shaky as he sat up.
"You got knocked down but I don't think there's any damage there, just to be safe," Han snapped his fingers loudly at the nearest droid and told it to run scans on Luke to check for concussion, any internal contusions or hemorrhages.
"What happened to the wookiee?" Luke asked.
"I dropped it with a stun bolt," Han answered. "The local Espos are dragging it back to its detention cell, hopefully they manage to keep it there this time."
While they waited on the results for Luke's scans, the younger man got a look at his face in a mirror in the bay. Even with the bacta the claw marks were still obvious on both sides of his face.
"Ugh," he groaned, "are these gonna be permanent?"
"Well the bacta should help with that," Han answered.
"What does that mean?" Luke turned towards him.
Han shrugged. "There might be some scars."
Luke groaned again. Han reached over and ruffled his blonde curls and replied, "I wouldn't sweat it, scars are proof you actually lived, besides, chicks dig them."
Luke choked on a half laugh/half snort and chided, "Han..."
"Of course Pop will probably blow a gasket when he sees this," the older man added.
"He won't be thrilled, that's for sure," Luke agreed.
"Yeah and we both know who's gonna get blamed for this," Han pointed an index finger at himself. "I brought you with me."
"That doesn't make it your fault."
"Yeah, but will Pop see it that way?" Han asked.
"He's not unreasonable, Han."
"I know, I also know how protective he is of you."
Luke looked at him and said, "I'll talk to him, I'll get it straightened out. Hey," he tapped Han on the arm, "you saved me, he can't be mad at you for that."
When they returned to Coruscant, Vader cupped Luke's face in his gloved hands and examined the scars on Luke's cheeks that had become minuscule during the remainder of their trip.
"Well, young one, you don't look the worst for wear," he concluded.
"I told him they'll probably go away as long as he doesn't start scratching them," Han noted.
Vader still addressed his younger son and told Luke, "Go get cleaned up."
"Yes, Father."
That just left the two older men in the room, and Vader could spot a hundred micro-expressions of dread and fear spread throughout Han's body as he anticipated repercussions for what had happened to Luke.
"Were you injured too?"
Han blinked, unable to comprehend the question at first. When it finally processed, he shook his head, "No."
Vader nodded. "Good."
"I'm sorry about Luke, Pop. If I had any idea this would-"
The rest of the words were knocked out of him along with the rest of his air, it took Han a second to realize it was because he was being crushed against his father in a hug, which left him feeling very confused.
"The reason I agreed to let Luke go with you is because I knew he was in the most capable hands in the galaxy," Vader told him.
Han heard himself asking with a note of self-consciousness, "You still think so?"
Strong durasteel hands gripped him by the biceps as Vader pulled back to look down at him and he answered, "I know so."
A small, uncertain smile formed on Han's face as he said, "Well, that's good...the truth is I really like having him with me and it makes the job a lot easier, I'd like to take him with me again sometime."
"I'm sure Luke would agree to that," Vader replied.
Luke and Han had been gone for two weeks this time. Naturally Vader missed his sons, naturally it was harder with Luke because they'd never been apart from each other for very long, but the truth was he missed Han just as much. Luke commed in from time to time to give him an update on what was going on, it helped but he was anxious for his sons to return home.
Vader tried to remain objective about the whole thing. He was well aware Han had spent his whole life never knowing who his birth family was and doing just fine in spite of it. He'd learned to survive on his own and he'd thrived at it, he'd built up an entire life for himself without the help or company of anybody. It was as much in his blood as being a great pilot was, and Vader understood that desire to have his own life and be independent and making it on his own, and proving he could, was still flowing through Han's veins. He wouldn't always want his little brother flying with him, someday, who knew? He might even find a woman and get married and start a family of his own. Now that thought gave the dark lord a warm feeling somewhere inside his chest plate.
One night while they were gone, Vader was in his pod meditating, when he felt a sudden disturbance in the Force that left him feeling jolted.
"Luke?"
He put his mask and helmet back on and headed to the comm system to contact the Falcon and find out what was going on.
The image that came on the screen was disorienting, there was a thick line running across the middle of the screen, indicating the monitor had been broken on the freighter ship.
"Luke?"
"Father?"
The image of Luke slowly appeared on the screen, but it looked wrong. The comm screen was at an angle and Luke appeared to be pushing up on his hands to come into view. The crack in the screen made it harder to get a clear look at his son but Vader could see Luke had blood trailing down one temple and over one eye, he looked dazed, disoriented, his eyes could hardly even stay open.
"Father?"
"Luke, what happened?!"
Luke opened his eyes again, and realizing he was actually seeing his father's image on the screen, he sucked in a breath that came right back out in a series of hysterical screams and sobs as he pleaded, "FATHER! Father please! You have to come get us!"
The rest was largely incoherent, and despite Vader's attempts, he couldn't get Luke to calm down enough to tell him where they were or what had happened. It broke the dark lord's heart to disconnect the comm call given Luke's state, but he moved quickly, ordering the Executor crew to prepare for takeoff, and he commanded Admiral Piett to track the coordinates of the Millennium Falcon. Wherever the ship was in the galaxy, he was going to find his sons.
It was a six hour flight before Executor landed on the planet Bespin. Aboard his flag ship, Vader had attempted to make contact again with the Millennium Falcon but the comm system no longer worked. Every possible scenario was racing through the dark lord's mind as he tried to prepare himself for what they were going to find. He'd tried to channel Luke's thoughts through their bond in the Force but that was just an array of incoherent fear and panic. He was taking no chances, as soon as he stepped off this ship he was taking two medical teams and 20 armed Imperials with him.
As the ship landed, Vader looked at the admiral and noted, even through his red lenses, that Piett's complexion seemed a bit gray compared to normal. He and Han had worked together in the fleet, Vader knew each had a commendable amount of respect for one another. Piett had been part of the recovery team that cleared the bodies from the destroyer Han was on when it got shot down. He still remembered when they announced someone was still alive, when they realized it was Han, the admiral had been nothing short of overwhelmed. As they waited for Han's condition to stabilize before Vader had him transferred back to the palace, Piett had commented to the dark lord that he was relieved Captain Solo had survived, it just seemed that if anybody could've escaped death on that ship, it had to have been him.
Han had never known it but the truth was Piett had been the sole voice of opposition when the decision was made to discharge him. He'd fought tooth and nail to reinstate Han once he was recovered but he was overruled on all ends. Vader admired the man and his convictions. Like the rest of the galaxy, Piett had no idea Han Solo was Vader's son, which made his dedication to the man all the more commendable.
From the outside, the Millennium Falcon looked very much the same eyesore it had always been. Were it not for the boarding ramp still down, nothing would indicate trouble had arisen. So, it hadn't been shot down in a fight, it hadn't been damaged during an asteroid shower, and it hadn't collided against a black hole. That alleviated some of the dark lord's fears but there were too many more possibilities.
Vader's heart was pounding so hard in his chest as he stepped up the ramp to enter the freighter ship, he could feel it pulsating in his eyes. His sons, what had happened?
"Luke?"
"Father?"
The voice was weak but nearby. Vader followed it to the cockpit, along the way he felt his eyes widen at the signs of whatever had taken place: evidence of blaster fire marked the walls of the access corridor, entering the cockpit he was met with the sight of Luke sprawled on the floor, half pinned under control consoles that had been ripped out of the wall.
"Luke!"
"Father," Luke's voice was so weak, his eyes were barely open, he'd lost most of his strength but his voice still changed octaves as he continued to cry out.
As the rest of the ship was searched, one medic team came in to assess Luke's injuries, once he didn't have the consoles pinning him down, he was checked over for spinal injuries and any other obvious traumas before they could move him. One medic got him hooked up to an IV because he was clearly dehydrated and likely bordering on hypovolemic shock. Luke still rambled on, trying to explain what had happened but nothing he said was making any sense. The medics informed Vader due to the shock, he likely wouldn't be lucid for several hours. The rest of the crew appeared in the entryway to inform the dark lord they'd searched the whole ship and there was no sign of Han Solo.
The medics concluded Luke suffered no broken bones but he had limited movement in the lower half of his body, he was put on a floating gurney and loaded up to transport to the Executor's med bay. Vader stood over his son before they transported him and lightly gripped Luke's face in his hands to get his attention and asked him point blank, "Luke, what happened to Han? Where's your brother?" He didn't give a damn who around him heard and knew.
There was a small change in Luke's eyes, a brief moment of clarity, his voice was weak, but it was strong enough it didn't waver or break as he answered, "They took him, Father...they took him."
"Who?" Vader asked.
"B...bounty hunters," Luke said. "They, they a-ambushed us."
"We have to move him, sir," one of the medics told Vader.
The dark lord stepped aside and let them take Luke out of the cockpit. He stood there for a minute feeling in a daze himself.
The sound of boots on the floor echoed off the walls, he heard someone come in behind him, didn't look, didn't have any reason to believe it but somehow just knew it was Piett.
"Bounty hunters?" the admiral repeated.