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Luke gritted his teeth as he blocked the attack just in time. He parried, took a step back, dodged, attacked in turn, before bringing his sabre up again. Sparks flew between his blue blade and Vader's red.
"Use your anger," Vader advised. "You are frustrated and tired, but you don't do anything with it."
Luke parried again, then dove in, a desperate attempt to stop the endless blows Vader was striking him. He was swatted away like a pathetic fly.
"Again," Vader said.
Luke's grip on his weapon tightened, a flare of irritation rushing through him. He threw himself at Vader, finally regaining some advantage. But he saw his opponent's next move half a second too late. A breath later, his lightsabre clattered on the floor. He massaged his aching wrist and went to pick it up, panting.
"Good, said Vader as Luke came back towards him. "You are making progress."
Luke shot him a tired grin, slightly comforted by his words after the beating he'd taken. He knew they had only started training two weeks earlier, but it was a little discouraging to be constantly reminded of how much he still had to learn. Still, lightsabre practice might have been brutal and difficult, but most of the time, it was great fun.
Not right now, though. At the moment Luke felt like he'd been run over by a bantha.
"You're still totally destroying me," he said, half joking.
A stab of annoyance in the Force was the only reaction he got. He frowned.
"Pay attention to your footing," Vader advised. "You often keep your feet too wide open. It reduces your freedom of movement."
Luke nodded, but didn't answer. Vader brought up his blade again, in a posture that would have been complete with a raised eyebrow. Luke imitated him with reluctance, exhausted, but not daring to protest.
As soon as he was ready, Vader came at him with renewed strength and speed. Luke had trouble keeping up with his pace. He twisted his blade right and left, barely catching all the blows, unable to strike back. His attention was no longer on his feet, too surprised by the violence of the attacks to focus on anything else. Powerless to keep his ground, he took a step back, then another, feeling himself lose control.
One blow more powerful than the others unbalanced him. He only just caught it on his blade, but stumbled under the shock and fell hard sitting on the ground. He groaned in pain and looked up, before freezing when he saw the tip of Vader's sabre pointed at his throat.
Vader sheathed his sword, and Luke relaxed. He took his sweet time getting back up and picking up his weapon again, dearly hoping Vader would stop the lesson now. He was tired, he was aching all over, he was out of breath, and his butt hurt.
He often felt completely spent after a training session, but his teacher usually wasn't quite this brutal with him. Today Luke felt more like a punching ball than a student.
Vader looked at him for a moment, then reached out an open hand in his direction. Luke couldn't help a wave of relief as he limped towards his teacher and placed the lightsabre in his palm. Vader closed his fingers around it.
His commanding officer had never been forthcoming with information about his past. But when among all the hilts Vader had offered him to choose from, Luke had found this one most adapted to his hand, Vader had looked at the weapon for a long while. He had then told Luke the blade had once belonged to his own teacher, before saying with a trace of bitterness that he knew Luke would make a better use of it. Luke had tried to get the rest of the story, but in vain.
The only thing he knew was that this sword, like all those he had been presented with, had once belonged to Jedi. Vader hadn't said how he had acquired them, but Luke knew of the Purge and of the Great Treason. It was lucky he was pretty sure his father had died before that, but he couldn't help wonder with a sliver of uneasiness whether one of these weapons had once been his, after all. Had he fallen at the very hand of Luke's instructor, what kind of son would that make Luke?
But Luke had no way to know. Several times, he had wondered about asking Vader, but he had always refrained from doing so. Being the son of a Jedi remained dangerous, and even now he knew he risked a death sentence by disclosing it. Besides, there was no way his father had betrayed the Republic. Luke was certain he would have seen the necessity of what he was doing. After all, they were pursuing the same goal: bring back the peace, and make the galaxy a better place.
Vader was now staring at the lightsabre with the same lost look he had worn that first day, and Luke felt curiosity rise in him again. He could feel the storm around Vader, the wind of his emotions resonating through the Force so strongly Luke couldn't have avoided it if he had wanted to.
"Are you all right?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet. He only rarely asked Vader personal questions. Even something so simple as this could either be answered or send him in a rage, depending on his mood.
But Vader seemed to take his enquiries better lately. It was still as difficult to get answers from him, but at least he had no longer threatened his life since he had started training him for real. And he had been acting strangely during the whole lesson today. Luke would have lied if he'd said he wasn't the tiniest bit concerned.
Vader's grip on the lightsabre tightened.
"I am fine," he replied, somewhat curtly. "You must not worry about me."
"Is it about the Emperor's visit tomorrow? It'll be fine, I promise. I worked extra hard on my shielding."
The Emperor always chose to honour a specific ship for the celebrations of Empire Day, and went to see the soldiers himself before spending the rest of the day on Imperial Centre for the festivities. This year he had chosen to bestow this honour on Devastator, and while neither Luke nor Vader were particularly happy about it, they needed to act as if nothing was amiss. In prevision for that, they had worked hard to make sure Luke was in control of his mind.
Vader put the lightsabre away, shaken from his thoughts. He turned to Luke, and the young man couldn't help swallow, the remnants of old fear rising in his guts as Vader came closer. However, the instinctual reaction felt worn down and weak, and Luke had no problem putting it aside.
"Let me see," Vader ordered, bringing up his fingers to Luke's temple.
Luke closed his eyes and pictured the bright suns of Tatooine. Vader's presence enveloped his, stifling and overwhelming; but Luke didn't let himself be disoriented by the sensation, which he knew well by now. He let Vader invade his mind and sift through his memories, keeping his breath steady, redirecting him subtly whenever he came too close to images he didn't want him to see.
After no more than a few seconds, Vader retreated and took a step back. Luke opened his eyes.
"It will do," he said. "I do not think you will be in danger. You should remember, however, that the Emperor's presence is very different from mine. You will have to be on your guard constantly, for you might not even feel him inside your mind."
Luke nodded, then huffed with a smirk.
"Mortal danger, what a great birthday present," he joked.
Vader froze, clenched his fists. Luke was surprised by the sudden intensity of the emotion rushing through their bond.
"There will be no such thing," he swore. "Nothing will happen to you."
Luke blinked, unsettled by the outburst.
"All right," he said. "All right. I believe you."
They stood together for a while in awkward silence. Luke was burning with curiosity at Vader's odd behaviour, but he didn't dare ask about it again.
"Do not concern yourself with me, young one," Vader finally said, his voice softer than before. "I am merely... not fond of the holiday. It will pass."
Luke nodded. He could understand the feeling.
A comfortable silence settled between them. Luke caught himself thinking of the future and of the Empire, of how huge and daunting it always seemed, especially during the parades of Empire Day. He felt so tiny and insignificant in the middle of so much pomp.
"Will it really change anything? Our plans?" he asked, barely daring to voice it.
He had agreed to Vader's proposition in haste, in the grip of emotion. But doubt had seized him several times since then. It just seemed too easy, somehow, to take out one person and hope everything would be solved. The Empire was a huge system.
"It must," Vader answered. "We will make it change."
It wasn't the answer Luke had expected, but he accepted it for now.
The whole prospect of getting rid of the Emperor and bringing back the peace was still surreal. They had talked about it here, in the safety of Vader's quarters, expressing their wishes and the changes they would make, but Luke couldn't see it anyway. Once or twice, Vader's words of freedom and of making everything right had managed to stir him, but whenever Luke thought about it on his own, he never managed to imagine himself as a ruler.
But he would trust Vader's word that the slaughter and the cruelty would stop. If he said this would help, then Luke would believe him. It was all he could do, and better than to do nothing at all.
"The lesson is over," Vader said. "You are obviously exempt of it in the next days. In the meantime, practice what you have learnt."
Luke promised to do so, unable to help the slight sting of disappointment in him. No matter how much his muscles ached and how tired he was at the end of a lesson, he never really wanted it to end. Nevertheless, he took his leave of Vader, then exited his quarters.
He walked in the corridors, finding his path to his squadron's own rooms without any problem now. It was hard to think he had been here for several months now; it felt both like forever, and like he'd just arrived yesterday.
A sliver of hesitation slowed down his step as he walked past the simulators room. He still hadn't managed to succeed in Vader's impossible exercise. Granted, since that fateful day two weeks ago, he hadn't really had time to think about it. But now he supposed he had a little more time to practise... After all, Vader hadn't told Lt. Tanbris how long he would be keeping Luke, just that he needed him for his now infamous "flying lessons." And he didn't really feel like coming back to the squadron to prepare the Empire Day parade. The ceremonial and formality of the entire affair reminded him too much of the first weeks of Academy training, and it felt like a waste of time. It wasn't really all that hard to get in line at parade rest and to wait for orders; Luke had no idea why this involved so much preparation and talk about the greatness of the Empire. Finally figuring out the solution to the exercise would be much more productive.
He wavered for a few more seconds, then decided against it. That was irresponsible of him. He was already lucky enough to have escaped the morning's lectures about Imperial history and purpose, which everyone practically knew by heart. He owed it to his squad to suffer through the rest of it with them. He would have enough time after Empire Day to try and find out the trick at last.
When he got back to the squadron quarters, there was nobody inside but Lt. Tanbris.
"Good lesson, Ensign?" he asked Luke.
"Yes, sir," Luke answered. "Uh, where are all the others?"
"Meeting room three," the lieutenant said, before looking back at his datapad and sighing. "I would join you, but I still have a lot of work to do. There always seems to be as many messages and paperwork on Empire Week than there are during the whole rest of the year..."
Luke commiserated with him, then thanked him and went to the meeting room.
Like the officer had told him, the rest of the squadron was there, looking at tomorrow's schedule on the projector. Playful quips erupted from the other pilots.
"So you're skipping the presentations now?" Boomer said.
"Can't you get Vader to give us a free pass, too?" Cosmo asked.
"Sure, why do you think I'm still here?" Luke quipped back.
There were snickers in the room.
Only Qorl stayed quiet. He gave Luke a stiff nod, to which Luke answered with a wave and a smile. The man then turned back to the holoprojection as if completely disinterested in the new arrival, but Luke could see the shadow of a relieved smile on his face.
Everything had returned to normal, and Luke was more than happy to take his place among his squad mates again.
.
The time to welcome the Emperor came much too soon to Vader, and yet he couldn't wait until the day was over.
He strode across the hangar with a phalanx of Stormtroopers behind him, grateful his mask was concealing his sore expression. Around him, all the soldiers that weren't needed to operate the ship stood in formation, their backs straight and their voices silent, a great and daunting welcoming committee for the ruler of the galaxy.
Every year that passed, he hated Empire Day more.
Not only did the memories of the past haunt him even more relentlessly than any other moment of the year. This sinister time he would have gladly spent in mourning and solitude had to be celebrated, too. The whole galaxy was made to rejoice as he remembered everything he had lost.
For everyone else, this was a date of change and renewal, the coming of a new age. For him, it was all he had ever treasured going up in ashes.
Even with Palpatine, the one person he still had left, things would never be the same. His thoughts spiralled further down the abyss of resentment and despair as he knelt before the arriving shuttle, alone in the middle of standing men. He longed for their former conversations, for the praise and the affection, for Palpatine to confide in him again, before he called him master. Now there seemed to be an unbreakable wall between them, nothing but dry servitude remaining of their former friendship. Vader had long accepted he would never understand where he had gone wrong, what he had done for their bond to deteriorate so.
He had failed to notice as his mentor and friend slowly grew away from him, the way he had remained blind to Obi-Wan's betrayal.
The shuttle landed and his engines powered down. The robed figure of the Emperor walked down the ramp, aiding himself with his stick, so frail and old-looking for those who couldn't see. But Vader knew his hood hid lines traced by the greatest resolve, and eyes shining with the hardest steel.
He remained kneeling with his head bowed until his master approached him.
"Rise, my friend," he told him too softly for anyone else to hear, and Vader obeyed. Palpatine had never stopped calling him that, and the word blew a bitter hole in Vader's chest.
"Master," Vader answered, despite how much he hated it at present. "You do us a great honour."
The Emperor waved his hand.
"Nonsense. It was time I finally acknowledged your hard work. You more than deserve it."
Vader did his best to repress an exasperated gesture. If Palpatine knew him at all, he would be aware he didn't care for this kind of pomp, and much preferred to be left to his own devices. Especially on this day.
Palpatine seemed to hesitate, in a way Vader couldn't know if it was an act or if it was true, before continuing.
"I do have to admit, however, that celebrations are not all I am here for."
Alarms flared in Vader's mind. He frowned, but he didn't say a word, knowing Palpatine would hear his unspoken question. The Emperor looked back at him for never-ending seconds, thoughtful.
"I apologise in advance – for the news I bring... The information has come to me very recently, and there was no time to impart it to you before now."
"News?" Vader asked. His stomach lurched in confusion and worry. What news could warrant this kind of warning? Was it another of his schemes? He hoped it had nothing to do with Luke...
"Everything will become clear," the Emperor answered. "For now, I think we shouldn't keep our troops waiting."
Vader wanted to insist. He wanted to demand explanations now, to require the Emperor cease his games and tell him outright. But he knew it would be pointless to do so. Swallowing his alarm and his curiosity, he turned towards his admiral and gestured for him to commence.
And so the ceremony started. Orders were shouted, heels were slammed, as group after squadron the soldiers paraded and came to salute their Emperor. Vader stood at his side, watching his men march with pride and dignity, pace and posture perfectly mastered, more regular than droids. It was impressive to witness, so many men in such a perfect ensemble.
Then they finished, and with a last shout and a deafening salute, they fell motionless, waiting for their Emperor's response.
They stood at attention as the elderly man reviewed each of them in silence, Vader at his side with his arms in his back. The unease of the men was palpable, their anticipation rising under the intense scrutiny of the ruler of the Empire.
Finally, he spoke.
"Loyal soldiers, in the name of the Empire, I would like to extend my deepest thanks to you for your dedicated service. You have been personally selected to serve on the flagship of my most trusted lieutenant, hand picked among the elite to protect our glorious nation. That is an achievement each of you should be proud of."
He paused, watching as they brightened under his praise.
"However," he continued with a colder edge in his voice, "just as even in the purest material, imperfections can be found, thus even this highly trained body has not stayed immune to the enemy's treachery."
Another silence, loaded with the implications of the unexpected words.
"Who here bears the name Luke Lars?"
Vader's guts did a horrible somersault. Was that what Palpatine had been speaking about? Had he somehow found out about their plans, or changed his mind about Vader training the boy? A thousand fear-borne thoughts went through his mind, even as he forced himself to stand still and watch.
For a couple of seconds, there was no answer, stunned tension ripe in the air. Then the boy took a step forward and looked the Emperor in the eye.
"I do, your Majesty," he said with a bow.
The Emperor looked him up and down, appraising him. Then he raised a hand, and Stormtroopers advanced to seize the young pilot.
Startled, Luke cried out and struggled as they bound his hands behind his back, looking straight into the Emperor's eyes. Slowly, with eerie calm, Palpatine came closer to him, and tilted his chin up with two pale, spidery fingers.
"So young," he deplored, "to have committed such severe offences..."
"What are you talking about?" the boy shouted. His terror was obvious on his features.
"You are a traitor to the Empire," said the Emperor, and Vader's mind spun. "Not content to commit insubordination and disrespect your commanding officers, you engaged in treasonous activity, lied, duped the State and your superiors..."
"I did nothing of the sort!" the young man cut him off, trying to reign in his fear. "I-I made a few mistakes, I haven't been as respectful as I should have, that's true, but I'd never betray the Empire, I've always served loyally!"
"Have you?" the Emperor snapped back, his grip tightening on his jaw. "Will you deny you actively took part in several seditious meetings at the Academy, and helped two of your fellow cadets defect from the Navy? You covered for them instead of reporting them as was your duty, and supported them in each of their rebellious endeavours, making yourself an accomplice to their felony!"
Vader looked in astonishment as the boy dropped his head and closed his eyes in anguish, his breath quickening. Letting go of his chin, the Emperor took a step back to address all those present.
"But these are not the only unlawful acts he committed," he went on. "His treachery goes even further back, from his very entrance at the Academy. He entered his application under a false name to hide his identity, going so far as to forge official documents, betraying his benefactors' trust before he was even accepted."
The young man was rigid in the troopers' grasp, but still he said nothing, his gaze riveted to the pristine floor. Vader watched him, dumbfounded, unable to believe it. Surely he couldn't let this stand... any moment now, he would look up and protest his innocence...
The Emperor was still looking at him with a condemning gaze.
"Will you deny being guilty of these charges... young Luke Skywalker?"
Vader's heart missed a beat, his respirator quickening, the pain of a blaster bolt hitting his chest.
The boy's head snapped up.
"Please. Please, you don't understand," he said, panicked desperation creeping into his tone. He looked around for support, but nobody provided it to him. "It was the only way my aunt and uncle would let me apply. I never meant to cause trouble, I promise!"
"Because they knew you were of Jedi blood," replied the Emperor, spitting the epithet, the damning last blow upon all the accusations laid on him. "How right they were to fear for you... you certainly live up to your traitorous ancestors."
"No!" the boy cried out. He tried to step forward, but the troopers restraining him didn't let him. His face was white as a sheet. "I'm innocent, I swear I am, I never betrayed the Empire!"
In their frightened wandering, his eyes found Vader's, piercing him with uncanny precision.
"Please..."
But Vader didn't react, too stunned to do anything but stare into the imploring blue irises, whose familiarity suddenly made sense. Luke Skywalker... Jedi blood... His master's voice rang into his head, petrifying him by its unthinkable implications.
No. It was impossible, it couldn't be true... how could it? His child was dead, had been for nearly two decades...
"Take him away," ordered the Emperor with a dismissive gesture.
"NO!"
The boy struggled, dug his feet in the ground, thrashed about like a demented man against the guards that were trying to take him. Finally, one of the troopers struck him in the head with the butt of his blaster. He grunted and stopped moving.
"I do not think it would be wise to add resisting arrest to the list of your crimes," the Emperor chided, with a cold, teasing smile.
That made the young man freeze as he considered the direness of his situation. All fight seemed to leave him as a shaky sigh escaped his lips, and he bowed his head in distress, allowing his jailers to drag him away without further resistance.
Once the sound of their steps had faded, the Emperor addressed the crowd again.
"Let our hearts be untroubled and our minds remain strong, even in the face of such an unfortunate event. For even though evil may try to hide at the very heart of our organisation, our unity cannot be broken by lone individuals seeking to seed discord. Our resolve is too strong and our courage too determined..."
Vader wasn't listening. He was petrified, unable to believe what had just transpired.
It must be a coincidence. For all he knew, there were other Skywalkers on Tatooine; he and his mother couldn't have been the only ones. He must come from another branch of distant relatives, or just a completely other family. It was the most logical explanation.
And yet, now that the thought had occurred to him, there was no forgetting it. There were too many coincidences. The boy was exactly nineteen years old, an excellent pilot, strong in the Force, born on Empire Day... How many times had Vader been irritated to his resemblance to a young Jedi of the past? How often had his heart constricted painfully, seeing the ghost of his departed wife in his face? Even the Force seemed to be confirming it, singing of truth around him.
But he had never put things together, never envisioned what was impossible to imagine.
All this time he had thought him dead. For twenty years he had mourned him, two endless decades of useless grief, that could have been avoided had he only known to look...
All this time they had spent together since he had been stationed on his ship, and Vader had never even known his real name.
He couldn't move, submerged by the potency of his emotions. Wonder and joy – his child lived! He was alive, at his side! – warred with anger and betrayal, as well as despair when he thought of all the time they'd lost.
Had the boy longed for his father, the way he'd wanted his lost child back? Had he known all along, and voluntarily hidden this fact from him, or had he, too, been fed lies about the fate of his family?
It was still difficult to think of him and the unborn baby he'd grieved for as the same person, but he found it became easier the more he thought of it. A small smile found his face, in the middle of his turmoil, as he tried to imagine the boy's reaction...
He was torn from his thoughts by a shout at the Empire's glory and a salute to acclaim the end of the Emperor's speech. The soldiers were told to return to their stations, and Palpatine approached Vader again.
He put a hand on Vader's arm, who felt his touch burn the metal bone even through the leather.
"I am sorry you had to learn it like this," he said, very quietly. "The special ISB agent I had appointed only came back to me this morning. We need to continue with the celebrations as if nothing was amiss, of course, but the boy must be transferred to Imperial Centre in the next days to be interrogated and prosecuted. I wish it weren't necessary... but if he is a traitor, action must be taken regardless of his blood."
A traitor. His child. His apprentice. An unpleasant sensation awakened in Vader's guts. Naturally, the Force would be so cruel as to let him reunite with his son, and take him away from him in the same movement...
His reply was mechanical, stunned, without much thought.
"It will be as you wish, my master."
Every year, he hated Empire Day more.