Chapter 13

…No,no, I've been burning on core-tunnelling, fast thrusters," Han sung at the top of his lungs, drumming his hands on the panel in front of him. The cadet pilot, in the shuttle's pilot seat beside the teenager, half-smiled at the boy's antics.

Han had preformed a rather nasty prank on the 501st legion, and Vader had sent him to the cockpit as lenient punishment.

Being one step ahead of his foster father, however, Han had smuggled his personal music device with him before the prank had even occurred, and had the earphones blasting out new jizz-wailing tunes.

Cadet Firmus Piett was of a fairly good sort, and didn't mind the young nobleman asking a few questions, periodically between songs, about the newest shuttle model. Piloting down to Coruscant could get boring, and the thankless job was usually assigned to cadets.

Han was singing, but inwardly he was deep in thought. In the past three days, Han had been through a lot of upsetting changes. Losing his family and having to leave Alderaan, being suddenly viewed as royalty...spending time with the monster that had once been Anakin.

Leaning his shaggy-haired head back against the padded co-pilot's chair's headrest, Han shuddered.

The harsh words, the long silences and the possessive nature Vader had shown during the travel to Coruscant, were unlike anything he could remember of his time with Anakin years ago.

The sharp words Zett had said to him, years ago on Bail's ship soon after leaving Coruscant, echoed in Han's mind every time he looked at Vader.

"It wears his face, but it's like a mask. You don't want to see someone who isn't Anakin walking around in his skin, do you?"

He hadn't admitted so at the time, but Han hadn't quite understood what the Jedi Padawan had been talking about. Now he understood. More than Zett could have suggested that he would ever know at the time.

It's like being around a zombie version of Anakin...like a flesh-droid replicant programmed to imitate him, but without everything special and kind that made him Anakin...replaced with something gross and dark like…

The darkness that had radiated from Palpatine.

Han gripped the co-pilot chair's armrests as the recollection hit him like a ton of durasteel bricks.

Daily the things the young teenager had felt as a child were growing dimmer, but he could still feel, right down in his core, that Vader overflowed with the same dark embers. Han wanted to go and beg the Sith Lord to let him go back to Alderaan. Kalani would be missing him, and Leia and Bail…

Han took in a shaky breath and turned off his music device, he was too worried to listen to peppy jizz tunes. He shut his eyes tightly.

I just want everything to be like it was a few days ago...

-:-:-:-

Darth Vader was dreaming.

He knew he was dreaming because only moments ago he'd been resting his eyes while sitting on a leather armchair in his chambers.

But it was a strange dream. It felt real, like all of the other visions Vader had suffered in his lifetime.

(…)

He was standing in what appeared to be the living room of a tastefully furnished apartment.

Beautiful artwork adorned the walls, along with framed holographs, the Sith Lord bit his lower lip in confusion. The place was unfamiliar to him, and the taste was so much like Padmé's.

Vader slowly moved towards the holographs, to see if he could try and determine who owned this place. But the sound of echoing laughter, coming from outside the apartment, distracted him. He turned and walked slowly towards the sound, gliding through the open doors that lead out onto a balcony garden.

There was bright sunshine. and Vader lifted up his hand as a visor over his eyes. As he shielded the sunlight, through his visored vision, Vader saw three small children playing with a broad-shouldered man.

The little girl was hanging around the man's shoulders, and her two brothers were hugging his legs. Vader's heart jerked at the scene, and jealousy flooded him as the little girl's long, dark hair fanned out behind her as she and her siblings play-wrestled the brown-haired man.

The man jokingly tumbled to the ground and the little girl neatly jumped out of the way, while her brothers rolled to the side, the girl rushing back to tug on the man's arm. "Get up, Daddy!" she ordered, the girl giggling her head off, as she and the boys jumped on their father's torso, and it turned into a tickling romp.

Vader lent against a railing as he watched the display with regret, letting out a small sigh.

Suddenly, the smallest boy turned looked straight at the Sith Lord and his large, clear blue eyes widened even further as he tugged on his father's shirt for attention.

"Daddy! I can see a strange man looking at me!" The boy complained.

Darth Vader reached out and felt the strong pull of the Force from the three children, and something very familiar about the presence of their father.

"Well then, tell him that your Uncle and Aunt are coming over tonight, and we ain't got no more room. You know how your Mom feels about uninvited guests," the father's face was obscured by his dark-haired son's head as he pulled the youngest boy into a one-armed hug.

"Although, if he's invisible, I guess he wouldn't eat all that much, huh?"

The older boy looked over in Vader's direction, "He's not invisible, though, I can see him," he had as deep brown eyes as his brother's were blue, and Darth Vader was startled.

The little girl nodded and pointed.

"I can see him, Daddy! I can see him! He looks like Uncle—"

(...)

"Your Lordship?"

The voice of Cadet Piett woke Vader from his fitful sleep, the fair haired man looked around and located the com unit.

"Yes, Cadet?"

"We're starting our landing approach," Piett informed him. "I thought you'd be pleased to note Prince Han has behaved himself. He has the makings of a good pilot, and, with your permission. I'd like him to help me guide the shuttle down."

Vader rubbed his eyes, "Yes, that would be acceptable. Nothing crazy, Han," he waited a moment, then heard a short laugh from his foster son.

"In this hunk of junk, ha! I'll behave, Father," Han assured him, with a notable touch of sarcasm that only teenager could get away with. Vader shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Just be careful, son," the Sith Lord switched off the com and lent back on the chair, glaring out at the empty room.

Who were those children and their father? Is it the Force mocking me with something I could have once had in another time or dimension? Padmé would have loved so many children...FORCE DAMN IT ALL…!

Vader thumped the armrest of his chair with his fist, his yellow iris coloured eyes were narrowed and half-lidded. These visions were becoming worse over the years, maybe now that he had Han back the demons of the past…or rather the future past could be put to rest.

-:-:-:-

Han looked down at the newly named Imperial Centre.

The planet Coruscant looked the same as always, the city skyline was perhaps smoggier and there was more construction going on towards the east of the Senate building.

Probably the Imperial Palace, Han guessed, as Piett was directing them towards the area.

"Now, pull back on the handle here, and flick the two switches just above your head, and that will start the landing cycle," the cadet directed, after doing that Han followed the man's further instructions and the ship glided down towards the jutting landing platform. Where, to Han's dismay, there was a full-blown greeting party awaiting them, neatly assembled into two rows of stormtroopers and several red guards.

Han swallowed hard as he heard the outside thrusters hiss. Oh boy, he gripped his hands together, I'm notlooking forward to this.

The door behind them swished open, and Darth Vader stood there in the doorway, resting his leather-gloved hands on his hips. Piett bowed his head and Han glanced over the top of the co-pilot chair,

"Father," Han greeted dully.

Vader actually chuckled. "I sense your unwillingness to meet the Emperor again, son. But it is proper protocol," his synthetic voice was lightly jovial, and Han was taken back. He'd already learnt that Vader's moods could switch like an unstable hyperdrive unit, and the teenager was more worried than he had been previously.

"Yeah, why not, being royal it seems only fair," Han said sarcastically, hopping out of the chair. "I'd better go put on my cloak," he mumbled, edging uneasily past his foster father, strolling over into the lounge where he'd tossed the thin, blue nerf-fur cloak.

Han fastened the cloak around his neck with a chain as Vader watched him through the vacant, red eyes of the mask. The teenager pretended that the clasp was difficult, and fiddled with it for a moment, but finally turned to look at the Sith Lord.

"What is it?"

Vader cocked his head to the side, "I was going to ask you later, Han, but…your mother, did she say anything to you before you left for Alderaan?" He asked slowly.

The teenage boy's closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, we talked," Han tossed one half of the cloak over his shoulder.

"Mom said…she said to be careful and that she loved me. And that we would see each other again," Han sighed. "It didn't work out that way. I never saw her again…I visited her tomb and I wanted to see her family in person."

Darth Vader nodded thoughtfully, "If you like, you can see them after you've gotten settled here. If I have business I'll send you with a trusted officer," he offered, Han nodded.

"Good then, are you ready?" Vader questioned, Han inclined his head again.

"Then let's go."

-:-:-:-

The interior of the Imperial Palace was stark compared to its crafted exterior, Han glanced around it with dismay at the ugly sculptures and dark paintings on the wall. The hallway looked like something straight out a horror holo-vid, not at all like the palace on Alderaan.

The teenager secretly hoped that Vader's apartments were different to the rest of the building, but didn't expect them to at all, given the Emperors orders in all other matters.

Han scowled, I'm not going to be as easily controlled by that old mummy face…but as he thought this, he looked over at his foster father.

Anakin had been one of the most strong willed, and smartest, men he'd ever met. And still…but then again, as Han had been told by Obi-Wan and Yoda, the Emperor had desperately coveted Jedi Knight Skywalker as his slave because of his ability with the Force. Han was blessed in that he had very little connection with the Force.

But if the twins…

"You were very attached to Organa's adopted daughter and his niece, weren't you?" Vader suddenly brought up, and Han quickly shielded his thoughts before replying.

"Yeah, Kalani's a good friend. And Leia…what can I say, she's a great little kid, she's like a sister to me," Han admitted with a small smile.

Darth looked down at him as they approached the throne room and placed his right hand on Han's shoulder, "You like children, don't you? I know you would have been a good older brother to your brother or sister," the Sith Lord sounded thoughtful and Han looked confusedly up at him.

Something that Han had noted over the past few days, was that traces of Anakin seemed to occasionally emerge in Vader's vocalisations, further making the feeling of dread of being around Vader frequently even stronger to his foster son.

But, just as suddenly, the dark Lord's demeanour changed as they reached the red armoured guards at the colossal doors, and Vader straightened his posture and dropped his gloved hand from Han's shoulder.

"The Emperor will expect you to be courteous, son. Be on your best behaviour." Vader's voice synthesizer only emphasised the warning.

Han looked away from his foster father and straight ahead as the huge, carved wooden doors were pulled open from the interior, and he squinted slightly as he peered into the sunlit room ahead.

There was crackling sound from the fire torches on the wall. The only lighting in the dismal area was the glass roof, which was covered by a sun-blocking dome that could be pulled back at the Emperor's leisure.

Obviously, this was not such an occasion, Han thought wryly, blinking at the bright sunlight.

Han looked ahead at the immense throne assembled above a dais in the middle of the hall, the dark figure seated on the throne was hooded and loomingly frightening. Han held up his head firmly despite this and bravely marched forward with his foster father towards the Emperor of the Galaxy.

Vader knelt obediently down four feet away from the stairs at the base of the dais. Han looked aside at his foster father, before doing likewise, looking down with narrowed eyes at the deep blue, velvet looking strip of carpet, that lay in a wide, vertical strip between the throne room door and the throne.

"My Master, I have returned with my foster son, Prince Han Vader of Alderaan," Darth Vader rumbled out Han's new title, as the aforementioned teen inwardly gagged at the sound of it all.

"Ah yes," the terrifying voice boomed from above them, Han kept his hazel eyes firmly on the ground in front of him, forcing his muscles not to twitch in tension, as he heard the deliberately slow, soft footsteps of Palpatine as he trod down the stairs.

A shadow cast over Han, and a wave of sickness flowed over the teenaged boy, "Rise Lord Vader, and you as well, young Prince Han," the scaly voice hadn't changed, it was only raspy and slimier then Han remembered. The teenager got to his feet and Vader followed.

Han bravely raised his eyes to stare up into the hooded, yellow-eyed gaze, the Emperor smiled thinly, something more terrifying than his voice.

"I see you've grown quite a bit since our last meeting. You are pleased to be reunited with your father, no doubt?"

"Yes, your Excellency," Han responded mechanically.

The scarred, pale skin of the Emperor's face shifted again as he smirked, "Yes, yes no doubt indeed. A boy's place is with his father...though Organa has also adopted you," he rested both of his gnarled hands atop his cane.

"From having no father to having two is not an easily done thing."

Han took in a deep breath, "No, your Excellency. But by marriage Lord Vader is my Father, and Bail Organa is my adopted father," he said bravely. Vader glanced at him in silence, inwardly begging his foster son to be quiet, but Palpatine cackled.

"Ah yes, it is nice to see you have lost none of your precociousness. A charming child as always," he waved to an attendant.

"While your father is away on missions you will not be alone. I have taken under my wing a young girl. She will keep you company, as Vader has told me you lived with the children of the Alderaan Palace, and as such are not used to being alone."

Han watched the attendant shuffle out of a side door and turned back to the Emperor, who was suddenly serious as he looked down at the solemn teenager.

"It was such a pity, your mother's death. Padmé Amidala had so much to still offer the galaxy, and to die in childbirth with the child stillborn also…what a terrible tragedy."

Palpatine's voice was soft and so close to bordering on mockery, it made the young Han's blood boil, and he clenched his fists.

Vader noticed and put his hand on Han's shoulder.

"My wife's death was a tragic accident," Vader said perfunctorily, as if he had repeated the same sentence thousands of times. Han looked down at the floor again as they stood silent for a moment.

The silence was broken when light footsteps indicated the aide was returning.

They all looked over at the returning humans, and Han's heart went into his throat when he saw the little, red-haired child in a dark blue jumpsuit and bantha suede black ankle boots, toddling along next to the elaborately robed woman, obediently holding her hand.

The Emperor watched the little girl let go of the aide's hand, and kneel down in front of him, "Mara Jade, I promised you a new friend to keep you company," he chuckled, and Han felt ill again.

The girl jumped to her tiny, booted feet, and stared up at Han, who became choked up, struggling to find the words in his dismay.

The poor little thing wouldn't have been much older than Luke or Leia, she even looked younger, despite the abundant red waves of hair.

Han knelt down so he was at the girl's eye level. "My name is Han. How old are you Mara?"

Jade held up two fingers, "I am two and a half, almost three, years old. How old are you?" Her voice was baby-soft but already formed almost perfect sentences.

Swallowing painfully, Han thought of his little brother and sister so far away now, but he smiled crookedly at the girl. "I'm fourteen, almost fifteen. Old huh?" He tried to make her laugh, but the green eyes just stared at him cautiously.

Han cleared his throat and smiled again, "Well then, we're going to be friends, Mara. Okay?"

Mara inclined her head, a serious frown on her rounded face, "Yes," she looked up at the Emperor, the terrible man cackled.

"You may leave now, Mara. You and Han will see each other again," Palpatine spoke to her bluntly, every word an order. Jade knelt again, then got up and took the aide's hand. They left almost as quickly as they'd arrived, and the teenager watched them depart solemnly.

That little girl was a sad example of how the Emperor treated everyone...like how Vader treated Han.

As a possession, a trophy for his cabinet.

Han's mind wondered for a brief moment what Mara's destiny would be one day...then he set his jaw as he firmly became determined to find out just what the Emperor had planned for the little girl.

-:-:-:-

Far from Coruscant on Polis Massa, in a lonely medic facility room by herself, Padmé looked at the holo-vision with tears in her eyes.

The holo-net was broadcasting its latest news, and its biggest story was the guardianship of the late Senator Amidala's foster son to Darth Vader.

Padmé watched the Emperor step out onto a balcony from the darkness of the interior of the Imperial Palace, the hologram wavered as the Emperor raised his hands for silence. Padmé held the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a cry, as the monster who had been her husband slowly emerged from behind the Emperor.

Worse still, was the sight of the slump-shouldered, smaller figure dressed in a black jumpsuit with a white belt, a blue cape, tossed over the narrowed shoulders, shifted in the wind as Han strode bravely to stand beside Vader.

"My subjects, today marks the fourth anniversary of my installation as Emperor," Palpatine began in an ornate manner. "The day I took the first steps towards peace in the galaxy for you, my loyal subjects!"

Padmé shivered at the applause and cheering that followed this announcement, the Emperor went on, but her eyes never waved from the two figures to his right, the motionless Lord Vader and Han.

Dear sweet child, Padmé thought, watching as her foster son lent against the balcony. Then she shook her head as Vader tapped Han's shoulder and the teenager jumped upright, standing straight and looking solemnly out beyond the crowd.

The former Senator lowered her eyes to look away from the holo-vision, switching it off from the panel beside her bed, she couldn't watch any further.

Luke was safe on Kashyyyk with the Jedi, training to be one himself someday.

Leia was secure and loved in the palace of Alderaan, being raised as their Princess and future Queen, perhaps even a senator one day.

Padmé sighed, pressing the glowing green button on the com.

The only one of her children she was most concerned about their fate was Han. But, as she knew from past experiences, that the boy was a survivor.

I have to have faith in the Force that it will protect all my children.

The droids arrived in the room, and Padmé nodded.

"I'm ready," she said softly.

It would be many years until she saw her children again.

Chapter Fourteen Will Be Up Soon. Thank You For Reading.