Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm Ltd., itself property of The Walt Disney Company. I make no lucrative nor commercial use of my writings in relationship with the Star Wars license.
Vader stormed out of the hangar, cape flowing behind him as he walked in the corridors without conscious aim. His mind was a maelstrom of fear, pain, and above all scorching fury against himself.
Behind him, he heard the boy's footsteps following him, felt the probing tendrils of the Force against his mind. Unconscious boy, reckless, careless, without a hint of self-preservation. He had no idea what he was getting himself into; he had never stopped to think long enough for that.
In his mind's eye Vader saw him rush unprotected towards his squadmate again, tackle more enemies than he could take in an effort to divert the threat. He saw his own skirmish against another ship, how close he was to getting his prey. Then he had heard the boy's alarm in the Force, noticed how dangerously close the enemy fire came to the hull of his craft.
He hadn't even thought. Before he knew it, he had been at the boy's side, chasing away the threats on his life with extreme prejudice. He still remembered the way his heart had stopped at the sight, the despairing terror at the thought of his ship going up in flames. Even now, the possibility that he might have been too late or have missed sent cold shivers in his veins.
It was going too far. He had let it go too far. He couldn't afford this weakness any longer.
And the blasted boy kept following him. His light bled in the Force, suffocating with swirling emotions that unsettled Vader greatly and prevented him from thinking straight. He needed distance, to reconnect with his own mind and decide on a course of action... this couldn't go on.
He couldn't deal with this fear, the pain that would inevitably come once he lost him. He couldn't go through that again.
Better to stop it all now.
"Lord Vader!"
At the boy's call, he stopped. His hand moved to his hip, unhooking his lightsabre.
He needed to do it, now. He had to achieve what he could never resolve himself to do before. It was the only way.
"Lord Vader, you –"
The boy paled when Vader turned around, wide eyes staring at his weapon. He slowly put his hands up in the air, but didn't move back. A nervous huff escaped him, short and devoid of joy, and he looked up at Vader.
"Well that promise didn't last long."
Vader didn't answer, but ignited the lightsabre and pointed it at his chest. He refused to rise to his bait. One blow – one single swipe, and it would be over.
The boy didn't start, didn't jump, didn't move. He stared at him, blue eyes boring into his mask.
"Go on," he dared him.
His voice was shaking in the end, but he held himself straight, still looking at him unflinchingly. Once again, Vader saw other eyes in their place, brown instead of blue but just as determined, just as daring.
I will not condone a course of action that will lead us to war.
He had the same shape of nose, the same tense set of the jaw expressing stubbornness. A bolt of pain shot through Vader's chest, and he clutched his weapon tighter.
Why was the Force tormenting him so? What did it want to achieve? It was as if this boy had been sent to remind him of this past, all to painfully. He was just the same age as his child would have been, he was strong in the Force; he even looked like him, and Force, he had her expressions, her courage and her heart...
Would his unborn baby have been so strong, so bold? Would it have shaken Vader's world and wormed its way into his life the way Lars had?
His chest aching with an impossible longing, Vader lowered his blade. It was pointless. This boy was not his child, could never be his child.
But he found himself wishing he was.
Luke scoffed and brought his arms down, a small smirk on his face that barely hid his relief.
"Knew it. If you really wanted me dead you'd have killed me a long time ago."
Vader didn't answer. He disengaged the blade and attached the lightsabre to his belt again.
Luke was right. Vader didn't want him to die, hadn't wanted that for a long time now. But he knew the Force had a way to mock these wishes and take his loved ones away. He couldn't afford to let anyone close again, and yet it seemed it was too late.
He cared too much about him already. There was nothing he could do to change that; nothing but teach him all he could, protect him to the best of his ability.
"Why have you followed me?" he asked.
Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"I can't do this anymore," he said, looking at Vader. His voice as strong, as if this was something he'd held a long time inside himself. "Rebels are one thing. But these people down there... you must have felt them, too. They haven't done anything wrong."
He stopped, swallowed. An unpleasant rush of pain crossed Vader's heart. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"What are you trying to tell me?" he growled. He didn't like where this was going. Were he to find out the boy was a traitor – that he'd betrayed him, so soon after being offered mercy...
"The war needs to stop, and soon," Luke said. Vader's heart clenched seeing the fear and the determination warring on his face. "I know I'm just a soldier who needs to follow orders. But it is no longer enough. I can't just be a silent cog in the machine. I remember you made me an offer, long ago."
His right hand fidgeted with his left sleeve. Vader could feel his emotions in the Force, his turmoil of disgust and guilt for what he had witnessed and his part in it, his determination not to let this unsaid, despite the possible consequences for himself. Vader watched him for a long time, not sure how to respond, a thousand painful remembrances flooding his memories. Forbidden words were forming in his mind, words he had already told someone else, long ago. They flew out of his mouth before he could think them through.
"I did," he said, slowly.
He probed their surroundings, making sure they were alone. Anticipation was raging in his chest, and yet he hesitated. He knew his next words would change everything, crystallise all his half-admitted thoughts.
"I offered you to teach you the true power of the Force, to be more than a mere pilot. Together, we could do many great things... we could change this Empire for the better."
An image involuntarily passed between them, a decaying corpse ran through by a red lightsabre. Luke's eyes widened, understanding the unsaid significance of these words.
"Yes," Vader answered, although the boy had said nothing. "The thought had been on my mind since I met you. That is why I have been distant at times; this endeavour is not something lightly considered."
A half-truth, conveniently omitting the conflicting feelings that had been battling within him ever since he had learnt to know the boy, and that he didn't feel ready to examine too closely. Still it seemed enough for Luke, who nodded.
"I just want for this war to end and the bloodbath to stop," he said.
"The Empire has committed many wrongs towards its citizens," Vader admitted. "But together, we could correct that. We could end this conflict once and for all."
Luke was staring at him, unmoving, but his presence in the Force was flaring like an agitated star. Vader extended his hand to him, his own tendrils of smoke reaching out in the same movement to entwine with the boy's bursts of light.
"Let me teach you, and we will make the galaxy into what we want it to be."
For a long time they stood looking at each other. Trying to curb his anticipation, Vader forced himself to watch Luke in silence as the boy hesitated, warring with the last shades of his doubt. Then his bright presence calmed down and retracted as he came to a decision. Had he been able to, Vader would have held his breath.
His heart missed a beat when Luke nodded, a small, nearly undetectable movement. Both of them could feel the significance of the moment. Their bond had become nearly tangible, linking them beyond words and thoughts. The Force was swirling around them, a storm of light and shadows spiralling around them in expectancy.
Then, to Vader's great surprise, the boy didn't take his hand. Instead, prompted by the currents of the Force, he slowly lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head.
"I will learn what you will show me, so we can stop the war and bring back the peace."
Vader let his triumph broadcast through the Force. He took a step forward and put his hand under his elbow to signal him to rise. Luke stood and looked up at him again, resolve clear in his blue eyes. Vader's hand didn't leave his forearm.
He wanted to offer him promises of greatness, to tell him of everything they could achieve together. He wanted to say how far he would bring him, all the things he would be able to achieve one day. He could see his potential so clearly now, possibilities and pathways of the future unfolding before him.
Instead he merely squeezed his arm, and knew the boy understood when he smiled.
.
Ereen checked the coordinates of the planet, then started her descent. It was here. She shot a look of distaste at the brown and ochre planet. She had known Tatooine was a desolate planet in more ways than one, but seeing it with her own eyes made everything more real.
She wrinkled her nose. It was difficult to imagine that one or two hundred thousands citizens of the Empire lived on this wasteland. She had grown up in the Core, and couldn't fathom how these people could stand such an inhospitable environment instead of the mountains, forests, oceans, and proximity to Imperial Centre she had been used to.
She flew further down, looking for the closest Imperial outpost, situated close to a tiny town that Ereen's data told her was called Bestine, likely the capital. Her codes were up to date, and she had no problem landing in the protected area. Had she expected concrete or asphalt, she would have been disappointed. The landing docks, if you could call them that, were made of sand just like the rest of the planet.
She sighed and put on her protective cloak, glad she had the insight of braiding her long and thick hair extra tight today, bringing it back around her skull. Not for the first time, she reflected it would perhaps be more practical to cut it short, but she never could resolve herself to do it. Taken in the sometimes impersonal machine of the Empire, home culture and traditions became even more important; especially when your job was to be a spy and a detective. Like many Alderaanians, Ereen found the idea of fighting unsavoury, but that hadn't prevented her from wanting to contribute to the great galactic association that had been the Republic, now the Empire. She had found investigating to be the perfect way to serve for about thirty years now.
She went outside her ship, and headed towards the outpost. It was an old and worn building made of some kind of whitish stone, far from giving the impression of domination and strength Ereen had witnessed from Imperial outposts on other worlds. She sighed. Better get this over and done with so she could leave this planet as soon as possible.
She entered, and was greeted by a lone Stormtrooper at a desk.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. What can I do for you?"
"I would like to check the population registry," she answered, holding out her badge for him to check.
He threw it a quick glance.
"What year?"
"First year of the Empire."
Ereen watched with distaste as the trooper took an old dusty folder from the shelf, brushed the sand away from it, and held it out to her.
Of course their records wouldn't be computerised, she thought, skimming through the cracking sheets of flimsi. Thankfully, she found the document she was looking for at the start of the folder.
The boy was, after all, born on the first Empire Day.
She read the data, noticed the document's similarity with the one her employer had given her. Luke Lars, nearly nineteen years old, of father and mother unknown. He lived with Owen and Beru Lars on a moisture farm, and was far below the blood standards for Force-sensitivity. She knew all this already.
Just as she knew there was something fishy about it.
But for the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint what. The document was in order, every formality was respected, and the flimsi looked as old as it ought to be.
She pinched her nose, thinking. Of course this couldn't be as easy as she would like it to be. This journey to the desert planet was already a desperate measure, after trying to find information in other ways. But even his locker hadn't held anything of note. She'd had to acknowledge that, if he was hiding anything, then he probably hadn't concealed it close to the Empire.
Which left Ereen on this less than pleasant trip on a scorching planet, looking through decades-old flimsi for the slightest hint of something wrong. She had hoped the original document might give her more information. Obviously she had been wrong.
But that didn't mean everything was over.
She turned a few pages, disregarding marriage, moving, and death documents, and looking specifically for birth certificates. Surely the boy hadn't been raised in seclusion. He must have had friends, gone to school.
Two children held her attention, Windy Starkiller and Camie Marstrap, who lived not too far from his farm.
"Do you know where I can find these people?" she asked the trooper, showing her the two files.
He looked at it and shrugged.
"I don't really meddle with the locals, ma'am. But I bet you'll find them easily. Anchorhead is really small."
It must be, if it's even smaller than this city, Ereen nearly replied. Instead she asked the man for the coordinates of the town and gave him back the folder with a thanks.
Fifteen minutes later, she landed on the outskirts of Anchorhead. It was, indeed, even tinier than Bestine. She asked around for Starkiller and Marstrap, but often only met distrusting glances. She knew most inhabitants of Tatooine didn't like the Empire, which is why she had left her uniform in her ship in exchange for something more neutral, but that didn't seem to help much.
"You'll have the most chances of finding them at Tosche Station," an old man finally told her. "That's where all the kids gather these days. I heard the Fixer and young Camie finally got engaged. About time!"
Without asking who the Fixer was, Ereen hastened to search for the building, which would have been easy to find if not for the lack of insignia or indication anywhere.
When she entered the station, she had to blink at the sudden change in brightness. Local music was playing out of old speakers.
"Hi," the man at the counter addressed her, a hand still on the thigh of the young woman sitting in his lap. Charming. "What can I do for you?"
He was tall, and had tanned skin, black hair and a beard, like a lot of people on this planet. It made Ereen wonder that the young pilot she was researching was so fair-haired, but then, genetics were something mysterious.
Unless, that is, he wasn't a Tatooine native at all. Her employer had specifically asked her to research his origins...
"I'm looking for Windy Starkiller or Camie Marstrap," she asked.
"I'm Camie," the woman said, sitting up. "What is it? I've never seen you around these parts."
"That's because I'm not from here. I'm looking for information about a schoolmate of yours, Luke Lars."
She had pondered coming up to them with a well-rounded story to avoid suspicion, but had eventually decided on a different strategy. She was doing perfectly legal work, and her employer had said nothing to her about stealth. Besides, word coming back to the young man that a stranger was asking after him at home would likely not cause any real problem. To the contrary: his correspondence was watched closely, and his reaction to such news would no doubt be enlightening.
Fixer and Camie exchanged a puzzled glance that Ereen didn't fail to notice.
"You won't find him here. He's gone for the Academy," the man said.
"The Imperial Academy?" Ereen said, pretending to be surprised. "He's a Stormtrooper?"
"No, the Flight Academy," Camie answered her. "Such hopeless dreamers, he and Biggs both. Never could keep their feet in the ground."
Fixer squeezed Camie's thigh, and she threw him an exasperated glance. That was information he didn't want her to give out, then.
Ereen knew the name of Biggs Darklighter. He and Lars had been inseparable during their training, until they had been stationed on different ships after graduation. She had already made a note of it in her file.
She put it away in a corner of her mind.
"Oh," she said, a pout of disappointment on her lips. Time to try a different strategy, then; truth was good, but it had its limits. She made sure to look at Camie. In her experience, women tended to trust her more. "That's a shame. I'm an old friend of Luke's family. I was unaware of his existence until recently... How is he like?"
Neither Camie nor Fixer relaxed visibly, but she knew they were processing the information and would either refuse her outright or give her what she wanted.
"Biggs knew him better than us," Camie finally said. Ereen had to force down her satisfaction. "He was always with his head in the sky, dreaming of that father of his."
"What did he tell you about his father?"
"Said he was a freighter pilot, the kind of guy you find in every spaceport," Fixer chimed in. "But he was fascinated by him. Never knew much about him though, except he supposedly died. Fled and never came back, more like."
Ereen nodded. So, no more information on that front; the kids visibly didn't know their former classmate so well, and certainly not enough for them to be able to provide her with what she was looking for. Time to leave, then.
"Sounds like him," she said, staying as vague as he could. "Thank you for your answers. I hope I'll be able to meet Luke soon... it's really too bad I couldn't see him."
The couple nodded and mumbled a goodbye Ereen returned before going out.
That hadn't gone so well, she reflected, bringing back her hood over her head to protect herself from the suns. Something she had said early in the exchange had made them tick, brought them on their guard, and she had no idea what that was. Furthermore, even aside from that, it was obvious they had only known Lars from afar.
She shivered despite the heat. She had to find more information on him. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she came back empty-handed.
Asking Lars' aunt and uncle about it was out of the question. Whatever it was he was hiding, they were certainly in league with him. She would have followed the trail the two young people gave her and searched for Biggs Darklighter, but she knew she had no more chance to find him here than Lars himself.
But maybe she could ask Darklighter's parents. She didn't think they would be much more forthcoming than Lars' classmates, but who knew what their son had told them.
It would be tricky, but it was worth a try. Better that than to find nothing...
Much like the Larses, the Darklighters lived outside the town, in the desert. Ereen didn't like the idea of going out so far in the wilderness, but maybe she could use it in her advantage.
She discarded her shuttle for the trip, and rented a speeder instead. It was a real scam, but she didn't have the time to bargain more than the strict minimum. A few meters flown on it made her turn around and purchase a pair of goggles as well. She couldn't see with all the sand flowing in her face.
The way to the Darklighters' homestead was not so long, but it felt like forever to her. She was tired and dishevelled at the end of her trip. It served her plans, she reminded herself. She left the speeder and approached the house.
"Hello?" she called blindly, leaning over the outside wall. "Is there someone here?"
She wouldn't go so far as to say the homestead was beautiful, but it certainly seemed bigger and more comfortable than most of the buildings she had seen until now. The owners must be richer than the average Tatooine local.
She called a few more times before she finally had an answer.
"Who are you?"
She turned around to see an old and rather stout man walk towards her, white hair coming out of his sun hat: most probably Huff Darklighter. He looked friendly enough, to Ereen's relief.
"My name is Yana Lidrath," she lied. She always had a false identity on hand, even in cases like this where it probably wasn't needed. It was a habit she had taken; unless the person needed to know her real name, she didn't give it away. "You are Mr. Lars?"
"Oh, no, the Larses' farm is further in the west, near the Jundland Wastes," the man said.
"Oh," Ereen answered, her face falling in disappointment and dismay. Her impression of a kicked puppy must have been convincing, for her interlocutor laughed softly.
"But you look like you could use a glass of water," he offered. "Do you want to come inside for a while and cool down before going back on your way?"
"That would be appreciated, yes," Ereen answered, glad her plan was working.
Darklighter welcomed her inside and offered her a choice between water and blue milk. Ereen knew how expensive water was on Tatooine, and that it was expected of a good guest to take the milk, so she did that, even though it didn't look too appealing to her.
"So," Darklighter sat down in front of her. "Tell me, what are you going to the Larses for?"
"I'm looking for their nephew," Ereen answered, deciding to stay with the story she'd told the youths at the station. She hoped what little she'd learnt would be enough to keep the pretence up. "I was a friend of his father before he passed away. I just found out he had a child, and I wanted to meet him."
Darklighter gave her an apologising smile, his eyebrows rising.
"You're out of luck today," he said. "Luke's a pilot in the Imperial Navy. He's left the planet long ago."
Ereen closed her eyes with a sigh.
"Well this is decidedly not my day," she said. "I can't say that surprises me, however, if he is anything like his father."
Her interlocutor nodded.
"You knew Anakin well?"
Ereen shrugged, taking note of the name of the boy's father.
"A little," she said, adding an embarrassed laugh for good measure. "We worked on the same freighter for a while. It was long ago, but I thought I'd check on the kid... for old times' sake."
"I understand."
Darklighter's smile hadn't left his face as he nodded politely, but Ereen wasn't a detective for nothing. She could read people. Right now, her instincts were telling her that something had brought the old man on his guard.
She reviewed her words in her head. Had she slipped up, was there something she'd said that had awakened his suspicion?
Hmm. Another thought came to her mind. Perhaps she had just lowered in his esteem. If he took her for the boy's mother, perhaps she could find a way to use that assumption.
"I haven't seen him in so long..." she whispered, her eyes down to give the impression she was talking to herself, but still loud enough for Darklighter to hear.
She swallowed, then crossed the older man's gaze again. She didn't like to stop looking at others' faces for too long, and risk missing any important reactions. Unfortunately, Darklighter's expression was still unreadable.
"You could leave him a note, tell him where to find you when he has leave."
She rested her head on her hand.
"Maybe..." She pretended to consider the offer. "But would he even know about me? What does he know about his parents?"
The man frowned, and she inwardly cursed.
"Not much, I believe. They died when he was just a baby."
"Really?" Ereen asked. "Surely there must have been stories... Anakin Lars was someone exceptional."
All of a sudden, Darklighter's eyes became icy, all trace of the friendly man disappearing from his face. Ereen started.
"Not that I know of." He rose up. "I need to go back to the fields; I still have some work to do on the vaporators."
She imitated the movement.
"Oh, yes, I am keeping you," she hastened to say. "I apologise. I will be on my way."
"Yeah," Darklighter answered.
He half accompanied her, half threw her outside. She thanked him for his hospitality, expressed her regret not to have been able to meet Luke, then sped out of the property as fast as she could without it being suspicious.
The whole way, she thought about the exchange. Darklighter had seemed to close up the more she talked... but she couldn't figure out where she had gone wrong.
There was a secret behind this, she realised. Something big. And like her employer had told her, it involved Luke Lars' past; his father, to be precise.
But what good was this realisation if she couldn't make anything of it? Whatever this secret was, it was well kept. Darklighter had seemed aware of it, but not Lars' friends. How was she supposed to find out anything if all the people who knew refused to tell her?
It was nearly dark when she came back to her ship, exhausted, a coil of anxiety in her stomach. She had no ideas left, and she still hadn't found out what Lars was hiding. Her employer would be angry... and she knew what happened to people who made him angry.
She took a deep breath, relishing her ability to do just that, and massaged her collarbone. Don't despair. Think. There must have been other people who had heard about Lars' parents... Apparently, he talked a lot about his father as a child. She needed to find other people who knew him when he was small, and who could disclose information...
A thought came to her mind, not extremely promising, but it was something all the same. There was an Imperial school nearby that must have kept records. If she was lucky, maybe she could even talk to his former teacher...
She would do that tomorrow, she decided, before collapsing on her pillow.
The temperatures on Tatooine were far more pleasant in the morning, she decided as she headed to the school. She no longer wondered at the antiquated state of the building; they seemed to all be the same on this planet.
She arrived at the school during break time, and was warmly welcomed by the teachers even as she showed them her badge. It was nice not to have to beat about the bush, and to make her inquiries clearly. Unfortunately, that didn't mean it was the end of her frustration.
"Luke Lars?" the fifth grade teacher frowned. "I don't remember having anyone with that name in my class. But it does sound familiar. Are you certain you haven't made a mistake?"
"Quite sure, yes," Ereen snapped. "Do you keep a record of your students? I would like to have a look at it."
Fortunately, they did keep such a record. It was in a small and dusty room, but it no longer mattered to Ereen. She doubted she would find anything here, but searching was better than doing nothing. She would do everything in her power before admitting defeat.
She searched through the different folders, which were kept by year, and then alphabetical order. She couldn't help a stab of disappointment when two times skimming through the letter "L" didn't reveal the boy's file. Had he been misplaced in another year? She was discouraged in advance by the idea of searching the whole room, but she would do it if she had to. Just to be thorough, she half-heartedly threw a look at the rest of the year, just in case it was closer than she thought.
Her heart missed a beat when she found it. It was the same boy: although he was much younger, there was no mistaking his shy smile and striking blue eyes. She took it from the folder, still staring at it, certain there must be a mistake.
"When students are inscribed here, do you ask for their birth certificate?" she asked the teacher.
"Always," the other woman replied.
Ereen stared at the paper, answers clicking into place in her mind. That was why Darklighter had been startled when she had talked about Anakin Lars. There were still more questions than answers, but the pieces were coming together at last. This was huge.
At least she no longer had to fear coming back empty-handed...