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"... approximately seventeen hours at sublight."

Vader blinked, realised Commander Piett had stopped speaking. He didn't recall everything the man had said, though he was sure he'd caught the most important things.

"Good work, Commander," he said, repressing his irritation. He had to act as if everything was fine; Piett couldn't know about his distraction. "Make the necessary preparations, then contact Rindia and issue them our message. If they do not submit to us, we will attack as soon as we receive their answer."

Piett bowed, then walked away, unaware of his commander's turmoil. Vader closed his fists. He turned, then left the meeting room as well. He needed a walk.

These moments of inattention had become more frequent lately, ever since Vader had ordered the boy into training. He hated it. If the boy had held his attention since the very first moment he arrived on board, he had never prevented him from focusing on his work before.

The training session of the morning had happened flawlessly, a little too much so even. Lars had worked without so much as a word, obeying Vader's instructions without complaint. He had made much progress, and Vader had been pleased with his success.

But his shields were still firmly up, his body language speaking of wariness and fear.

He couldn't keep the boy's accusations of the night before from his mind. They kept turning in his head, tormenting him.

"Will you just kill me once you've decided I'm no longer worth your time?"

To his great shame, Vader realised he'd thought about doing that more than once. But now, the thought of disposing of the boy was far less appealing than it had been. He wanted him at his side, not dead.

At his side, not the Emperor's.

That last realisation bothered him immensely. The Emperor and him were on the same side. He had never thought of him as an enemy; he had no reason to do so when it came to the boy.

Besides, why should he care about that arrogant pilot's fate? It was none of his concern. If his master wanted Lars, then it was his duty to bring the boy to him. Maybe this would at last allow him some rest from the insistence with which he occupied his thoughts, though he supposed this was mostly vain hope at this point.

And yet the perspective of no longer seeing his bright eyes look at him with impertinence, feeling the warmth of the tendrils of his Force-presence clumsily probing his, or hearing the youth of his light voice uttering bold comebacks, was leaving a strange hollowness in his chest.

He remembered his wonder when discovering the Force, his power when delving into it, his eagerness to learn. Vader didn't remember ever feeling this relaxed... at peace. Being with him allowed him a welcome respite from his everyday struggle with himself, and teaching him brought him more joy than he had in a long time.

He sneered at the ridiculousness of it. It was preposterous. All the boy was achieving was distracting him from his duties. He needed to turn him so he could send him to Imperial Centre and be rid of him and his annoying influence on him once and for all.

But despite his best efforts, he couldn't suppress the reluctance churning at the base of his guts whenever he thought of the young man being shipped away to the Emperor.

Vader couldn't repress an annoyed gesture while hastening his step. He would deal with all that when it presented itself. The first step was to turn the boy. And for that, he needed to obtain his trust back.

Or maybe gain his trust would be a better term. It suddenly occurred to him how afraid Lars had seemed whenever he was close to him. How many times had he seen jump at his slightest gesture, rub his throat, or throw him nervous glances after talking back? Had the boy ever truly trusted him?

With another useless pang in his chest, Vader realised it could all be traced back to the time when he had tried to kill the boy, fed up with his arrogance. Yes, Lars had used up all his patience... but Vader was starting to regret it, nonetheless. Had he caused irreparable damage with his rash gesture?

Surely not. Lars had come to him for flying training, even after that unfortunate event. And then he had put an end to it...

Yes, maybe he had been careless with the boy. But it was nothing that couldn't be mended. He was certain Lars would warm up to him again. In time, he would understand Vader meant him no harm.

He entered his quarters, still deep in thought as the door slid closed behind him.

.

Luke drummed his fingers against the table of the meeting room, sipping his caf with a distracted eye on his report. Anxiety was churning in his stomach.

For the last couple of days, he had been avoiding most of the squadron, keeping himself to a few chats with Vil or Silver. With his duties, Dark Curse was now too busy to talk much. Qorl's disposition towards him didn't seem to have mellowed, and the others seemed content to follow his example, although they weren't as aggressive as he was. They mostly tended to ignore Luke, while Qorl went out of his way to send him a snide remark or a spiteful glance.

But this morning, they were having a full squadron meeting again. Worse than this, Luke was supposed to speak up. Stellar previsions were actually rather fun to do, in his opinion, but in the current climate of the squadron he'd rather not have to have all their gazes focused on him at once.

He kept repeating himself it was just a phase and it would pass. So said his two remaining friends. But it didn't change the nervousness roiling in his guts whenever he had to interact with the other pilots.

He wished he could tell them about the Force, this sixth sense and strange power that allowed him to soar into the sky, avoiding threats without even thinking about it. But he knew it wouldn't make anything better. They would just think he was crazy, or worse, lying to them. They would never believe him, in any case.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. It was hard to keep his mood uplifted in such circumstances. He missed Chaser a lot, and wished Mauler was here... he felt so lonely. His fallen squadmates' absence was a gap in his life that throbbed like a wound.

Was it possible to turn back time with the Force? Could he possibly go back and save them? He'd have to ask –

Except he wasn't really on that sort of speaking terms with Vader any longer, and he was determined to keep it so.

He had thankfully managed to get through the first lesson fine, but it didn't mean it had been easy. He needed to constantly watch himself not to let his frustration through when he didn't get something right, or to let any inconsiderate remark escape his lips, even in enthusiasm. It was more exhausting than he thought it would be.

But he knew it was the only way for him to keep living. Vader was too unpredictable, and there was no telling what he could do to Luke on one of the bad days if Luke wasn't careful to keep to himself.

Another sigh escaped his lips.

"A heartfelt sentiment," a rumbling bass teased behind him.

He swirled back, surprised by the voice, and caught himself just in time not to glare daggers at Vader.

"Lord Vader," he merely acknowledged him.

"You are here early," Vader commented.

Luke shrugged and took another sip of his caf. He hadn't had time to have breakfast this morning, but maybe it was for the best. He didn't fancy staying in the squadron quarters, which had become stifling. Luke had wanted time by himself, to think without the heavy atmosphere that reigned there.

But of course, Vader had had to ruin his plans again.

The silence became awkward. Vader walked past Luke and went to stand at the front of the room, his back to the young pilot. Luke didn't spare him a glance.

"Young one..."

Luke threw Vader a startled glance. Was it really him he heard speak with such a soft and uncertain voice? They locked eyes, and Vader stared at him for a moment, as if he were searching his words. The Force swirled around them, unsure and hesitant. Luke had to refrain from probing Vader back out of curiosity.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Luke turned to look behind him. Boomer entered the room and shot Luke a short look, then went to sit two rows behind him. Soon after, the other pilots entered and did the same. Lt. Tanbris entered and came at Vader's side, talking in low tones with him.

Only Vil and Dark Curse smiled at him, and Silver came to sit next to him. All the others firmly stayed in his back. Luke looked down, feeling a pang through his chest.

His nervousness flared up again, and his grip on his datapad turned stronger. He really didn't want to speak up in front of them today.

A holographic planet rose up from the console in front of the room. Luke's gaze shot towards it, his dark musings eclipsed by curiosity.

"This is Rindia," Vader said. "It is the third planet of the Rindian system, and the only habitable one, populated by Rindians and a minority of humans."

Vader paused for a second, looked at them all.

"It is one of Praadost's most powerful allies; allies that sent in reinforcements to help them resist our former investigation."

Nods surged in understanding. This was a battle briefing; a battle for retaliation.

The holograph grew and zoomed on the Southern hemisphere.

"Rindia's surface is covered in shrubland. It is mostly wild, due to the dangerous nature of the shrub and its tendency to get aflame. Most inhabitants have settled in this region, where the temperature is more temperate and water more present. It contains Rindia's largest cities, including its capital. That is where we will strike."

He gestured towards an area on the map that had started to glow red.

"A barrage will be set around the urban zone to prevent any ships from escaping – barrage which you and other TIE squadrons will be responsible for holding. Meanwhile, a squadron of bombers will come in and strike at regular intervals to pressure them into surrendering."

"Um, sir?" Luke let escape. His gaze was focused on the sphere in front of him. "What if reinforcements come from the outside?"

"I am coming to it. Another barrage will be set, this time at the level of Devastator, to blockade any ships trying to enter Rindia's atmosphere. Naturally, your work will be to stop entrances as well as exits."

Luke nodded.

"Now we just hope they don't have anti-aircraft weapons," he muttered.

"Primary analyses have not detected any. If we are mistaken, then they will naturally be your primary targets."

Luke smiled, their casual dialogue reminding him of their earlier training sessions. It was so easy to exchange like this...

Qorl's whisper immediately made him regret it.

"Still trying to gain favour? Haven't had enough of it?"

Luke rolled his eyes, and had to bite his tongue not to answer. Was he the same man that had berated him for his apparent lack of loyalty recently? He was just being bitter.

Vader, however, seemed to have noticed Qorl's comment as well. He stilled, his eyes boring into the pilot. Luke tensed and looked back at his squadmate, relieved when he saw him sustain Vader's gaze with uneasiness, but clearly not restrained in any way by their commanding officer. Please don't do anything to him, he silently prayed. He doesn't deserve it... it'll just make things worse... please let it go...

Fortunately Vader seemed to relax. He came back to his presentation without any comment on what had just happened. Luke sagged in his seat and let out a breath.

He didn't speak during the rest of the meeting. When Vader finally called it off, Luke was surprised to see he stayed in place while tinkering with the holodevice, instead of storming off as he usually did; he had an inkling he knew why. Without giving him a chance, he hurried to leave the room, his hand still clasped around the briefing data he – to his relief – hadn't had to present today.

"Hey," Silver came to him with a smile. "Things seem to be better for you with Lord Vader."

Luke gave a small, bitter laugh.

"You can see it that way."

Silver's eyebrows shot up.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Luke looked away and sighed. He didn't feel like explaining it.

"No, it's fine," he sighed.

Vader exited the room and passed in front of him, but Luke only spared him a side glance, refusing to acknowledge the small falter in his step he was certain he had not imagined before his commanding officer walked away. He looked back at Silver with a smile.

"I still have a few things to do, though, so maybe I'll stay here for a little while longer. See you later?"

The other pilot hesitated, then smiled back and followed the others of the squad.

Luke entered the room again, and sat at the same place he'd been seated not so long before, not knowing if he was more relieved, tired, or angry.

Truth was, he knew this situation extremely well. He'd been the outcast during his whole childhood: scrawny and blond, living farther from the city than the others, his head in the stars, he's always stood out among the others. Biggs, who shared his passion for flying, had been his only true friend during these lonely years. All the others had either shunned him or teased him. He had never been outright bullied, outside from a few occasions... but it hadn't made it nicer a sentiment to know he didn't belong.

Never had he thought it would start again once he was a pilot.

Deciding to set his grim musings aside, he took his datapad and unlocked it. It was still showing the file of his presentation, that he finally hadn't needed to do, thanks to Vader's intervention. He supposed the data would still be valuable the next time they held a squad meeting. Hopefully the atmosphere would be a little more relaxed towards him.

He opened his mailbox, which consisted solely of organisation notes, information he'd gathered, and messages from people aboard. The Holonet was a complicated piece of technology to put in place, and he hadn't heard of any network greater than planetary – except in the Core, maybe, but Luke had given up trying to follow everything sensational happening in the Core. They had long-range transmission if they wanted to communicate with someone outside the ship. But technical limitations overall restricted their Holonet to information from aboard, with the exception of the daily news downloaded from Imperial Centre via LRT.

He opened a few of his messages with a distracted eye: an automated message from some captain, a notice from repairs, the Star Weather bulletin. He had also received an answer about some Rebel ships specs, that he needed to finish a data report. Slightly more interested, he opened it.

He scrolled down, threw a glance at the figures – he'd analyse them later. But a short note by the officer in charge awakened an unpleasant sensation in his stomach.

The missing figures had been provided by interrogation and were since disproved.

He still had a distinct feeling he knew what kind of interrogation had been performed here...

Unwilling to dwell on it, he closed the message and continued to check out his inbox, doing his best to silence Biggs frowning in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it. He had a job to do. It didn't make him happy, but such was war and he was slowly coming to accept it.

Or at least, he hoped so.

He continued working for about one hour before surrendering. His heart felt like lead, and his head might as well been about to burst.

He needed a break from everything, a well-deserved breather. He closed his datapad and brought it back to the deserted squadron dorm, then left the quarters.

He wandered in the corridors, wondering where he could go to take things off his mind. He had mastered the ability to look purposeful even though he was only taking a walk, so as to not stand out against all the other officers. His mind felt too clouded to think.

However, his steps slowed down when he realised where his legs had unknowingly led him. The sim room.

That was an excellent idea. Heavy as he felt, flying was the perfect way to take his mind off things. It was productive and would make him feel better.

He walked closer to the machines, but didn't immediately get into the cockpit. His lips stretched in a smile as he remembered the last times he'd been here.

The Force is what binds the universe together. It surrounds and penetrates us all, and is part of every living being in existence...

He closed his eyes, reached out like Vader showed him. The mental motions were becoming easier and easier, and Luke was rather proud of the progress he'd made. He shifted through the ship, brushed against the unsuspecting presences around him, busy and swarming...

He jumped as a beeping sound made its way to his ears. Luke opened his eyes and swirled back, startled.

Weefour didn't see him for once. He was too busy trilling and twittering at a small mouse droid following him around and drawing circles around him. The both of them went away to the end of the room until Luke no longer saw them. He smiled.

It was going to be all right. He'd managed today, there was no reason he wouldn't keep control later. This was to help his squadmates and everybody else. He could do it.

He rose up and choose a program before settling in the sim's cockpit, letting it wash away his worries as he was swept into the exercise.