Day 17: Separation
Summary: Sequel to the previous fic, but told from Vader's POV. Twelve-year-old Luke has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom.
Luke has been taken.
Darth Vader's hands curled into tight fists.
Some scum had kidnapped his son, and now they dared make demands for his safe return? He was going to kill them. He was going to kill every single one of them that had laid a hand on his boy or had even dared to look at him.
Vader stormed into his personal hanger. His ship was prepped and ready. He had debated on taking a shuttle, but he wanted something fast, stealthy, and with guns. Plus, Luke was small enough to fit inside the cockpit with him.
What if the boy needed medical attention? A shuttle will be better.
Vader pushed that thought aside. The scum wouldn't hurt Luke yet. They hadn't gotten that desperate for their reward. He still had time, but only if he was fast. And his fighter would be faster.
His ship screamed out of the hanger and away from his fleet. He wasted no time in jumping to hyperspace. He wasn't completely sure where Luke was, but he could feel his son's presence in the Force as there was no mistaking the bright light that was Luke. It was hard to get an exact location, and it would mean multiple jumps to narrow it down.
During his trips through hyperspace between jumps, he tried to focus on his anger on the terrorists who had taken his son, but he couldn't stop his worry. He couldn't stop thinking about his Luke.
How had such a thing happened? How had scum managed to get past the guards and defenses to get to Luke? How had he failed in protecting his son?
He had made sure to keep his little one safe over the years. He kept Luke by his side as much as possible, making sure his personal quarters on any of his destroyers had a small room for him. He handbuilt all the droids that cared and tutored Luke, while he trained the boy in the Force himself. Luke was so talented and bright. He had to often push him hard as otherwise, it would be too easy. One day Luke would outshine even him.
When he did have downtime, he tried to share his passions with his son like showing him how to work on ships. He had even custom ordered a hydrospanner that perfectly fit Luke's hand for his birthday last year. Yet often such moments were short. Vader had a job to do; a galaxy that needed peace. It was that job that had called him away from his son, who was now in the hands of pathetic worms.
But no matter. Vader was here and would soon be reunited with his son as his many jumps were at an end. Floating in the middle of nowhere before him was a decent sized freighter. A ship that easily passed for unassuming, but Vader could feel Luke. The boy was on that ship. There was no mistake.
It wasn't long until Vader's boots landed with a heavy thud into the hallway of the ship. The airlock in the ceiling above him hissed shut. These fools were pathetic. They hadn't been scanning for approaching ships, and he had easily docked unnoticed. Whether they knew he was coming or not didn't matter. They would all be dead soon anyway; nothing would change that now.
The slaughter was effortless. The terrorists were dead, he clipped his lightsaber to his belt as he marched to his small son sitting in a chair with his hands bound behind his back. Luke was staring at his lap, and Vader gently put his hand under the boy's chin. Luke flinched but Vader held on tight as he lifted Luke's face.
No wonder he had flinched. Luke's face had a large purpling bruise on one side. Vader gently slid his thumb across it, and again Luke winced in pain.
"Their deaths were far too quick," Vader said. His voice was tight as he tried to control his anger.
They had hurt his son. They had hurt his son.
His anger threatened to bubble out of him. He let his hand drop, and with the flick of his other hand opened the binders with the Force. He turned away as he glared at the lifeless forms of the scum who had injured his little boy. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. Their deaths had been too quick and merciful. He should have dragged it out much longer.
"Come," he said. He couldn't be here much longer. His anger was clawing at him too much. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to destroy everything around him.
A cry immediately caused him to whip around. Luke was falling, and Vader was there to catch him. His boy was trembling and his eyes were watery as Luke looked up at him. His lip wobbled, and Vader's heart broke. He wasted no time in scooping up his son and cradling him to his chest.
He turned around, and without looking at the bodies, left the room. He had to get Luke back to his fleet where he could get proper medical care.
"Fa- father . . ." Luke said. His voice uneven and holding back a sob.
Vader didn't stop, but he did look down.
"Why did you come?" Luke whispered so softly he almost didn't make the words out.
"Of course, I would come," Vader said. "I will always come, Luke."
Luke blinked a few times as he looked up at Vader, who just held his son a tiny bit tighter. He felt Luke relax and he rested his head on his father's shoulder.
Had Luke doubted he would come? Of course, he would come. Nothing would ever separate them again.