It was pure coincidence.
Nothing except pure, accidental coincidence.
He hadn't physically eaten anything in over two decades but the thought that were it not for some last minute order from the emperor as another twisted way to keep him in line and under control, Vader would never have even been in this Force forsaken system in the first place. He would not have been looking out this viewport and would never have seen this particular ship off in the distant and might never have become aware of a bright, familiar presence which was most certainly on board and demanded the ship be brought in via tractor beam.
It was the thought that this all might have slipped his notice which made him sick to his stomach.
The ship was called the Antioch. It was a Corellian brand YT-2400 freighter and as the ship was being pulled in, a Lieutenant Yentz in the hangar bay reported via comm that the owner of the vessel was Captain Tro Ers, a Weequay pirate who dealt in illegal arms dealing and slavery. According to Lieutenant Yentz, the Captain was upset by the unwarranted detainment but willing to cooperate.
"Inform them to leave their weapons and have all crew members disembark. I will be arriving shortly." Vader ordered coolly.
"Yes, my Lord Vader."
Arms dealing and slavery.
How… unexpected. These were not the sort of scum that he would expect Luke to get involved with, his affiliation with terrorists notwithstanding. What had driven his son to this engage with this particular brand of filth?
He pressed along their bond searchingly but there was no response or even acknowledgement of his presence. Only a strong sense of unease, bordering along terror came from Luke's side. Vader drew back, his brow furrowing.
No matter, he decided abruptly. Luke would not be able to escape him this time. Vader would have his son and the answers to his questions soon enough.
It didn't take long for him to arrive at the hangars. Normal work processes had halted and there were many crewmembers standing off the sides, watching curiously. They snapped to attention as Vader strode in but he had eyes for nothing except the Antioch.
The crew had disembarked and were standing in a line-up, held at blaster-point by several of his private Legion. Their fear grew as he approached and Vader surveyed the crew members with close scrutiny... but none of them were who he was looking for. He turned back to the captain, giving him the darkest look he could muster. Even a non-Force sensitive would be able to feel his ire.
"I said everyone."
The Weequay swallowed. "This is the entirety of the crew, Lord Vader. I… I don't – "
"Captain," Vader interrupted coldly, pointing a finger at him. "There is someone else aboard your ship. Bring him to me or I will break your spine."
Whatever color Ers still had in his face drained in an instant. The dark side laughed silently, gleefully snapping at the captains ankles as he twisted around in a desperate fury to his pathetic, vulgar little lackeys.
"Get the fucking kid!" He ordered. Vader could practically feel the captain's heart racing in his chest.
A member of the crew quickly darted back inside the ship and after a few seconds went by, Luke's presence in the Force shifted nervously. But now that they were so close to each other, Vader realized that it felt… different. Off, somehow.
There wasn't enough time for him to pinpoint why it seemed different because just then the crew member reemerged, dragging with him by the front of the scrap of cloth that barely passed for a shirt… was… Luke?
Vader blinked.
That couldn't possibly be right.
He was a child.
A youngling - four, perhaps five years old at best.
But… it was Luke – it had to be because it simply wasn't possible to mistake that particular Force signature for anyone else. With their Force bond established now on both ends, Vader could recognize him even from across the galaxy.
For the longest moment, all he could do was stare at the child struggling half-heartedly against his captors grip. Shaggy blonde, sun-bleached hair, scraps that barely qualified as clothes, but desert-like in make - it was almost like looking through a mirror to the past.
"...Luke?"
The child's head jerked up at the sound of his name.
Vader barely refrained from killing the man who quickly shoved Luke away from him, causing him to stumble and fall forward on his hand and knees against the hard durasteel floor. A crude makeshift gag had been forced into his mouth and tied around his head to keep him quiet. The sight had him nearly exploding with rage.
Luke's signature brightened in the Force as he caught sight of Vader for the first time even as his eyes grew huge. The bond between father and son which had sprung up between them at Bespin was still in place, even at this younger age, and though there was no recognition on his youthful face, some subconscious part of his sons mind instantly recognized Vader as family.
The child hesitated for a brief moment, confusion and fear warring inside him as he stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes before glancing back at his captors. His very presence in the Force recoiled away from them, shrinking in terror as if he felt like nothing more than a small rodent trying to avoid being kicked or stepped on in their presence.
Unable to shield, scattered memories unknowingly fluttered across their bond and Vader saw images of the Antioch crew shouting and angry, of Luke huddled in a corner of the ship crying quietly, lonely and confused and surrounded by debris and filth. He felt the unfamiliar cold of space and the sensation of unwanted hands on his body, of hunger, and the pain of being harshly slapped across the face –
The black behemoth that was Vader was just as terrifying to him, a figure straight from children's nightmares… but it was that faint call of family – of Skywalker blood calling to its own – that ultimately made Luke's decision for him and he stumbled to his feet and bolted towards Vader, ducking behind him for safety and clinging tightly to the back of his leg.
"That's everything!" Varlo said desperately. "That was the only cargo we had onboard. Now, now we did what you asked. We all cooperated – "
"I made no promises for your release, Captain." Vader interrupted dangerously. He was painfully aware of the small weight pressing up against him and dared not move. "Do not attempt to put words in my mouth. What were your intentions for your cargo?" He spat the word with obvious disgust and for once was unable to find any pleasure in the spike of terror it evoked.
He knew - he knew what they had planned. There were only so many things slavers wanted with children, after all. But this worm ridden filth was going to say it out loud. He was going to admit his wrongs for everyone to hear so that there would be no misunderstanding about why he and the rest of his hired scum were going to die.
But he also needed to know how they had done this. And he needed to know how it could be undone.
Varlo licked his lips, extending his hands and shrugging almost helplessly. "Kids are – well, kids… they're worth a lot of money to the right buyer." He offered weakly, desperately even. "The Empire – this, none of it is illegal, Lord Vader. Surely – surely, you understand that."
Vader tightly clenched his fist, watching the Captain of the Antioch choke on nothing. He was furious, angrier than he could remember being in a long, long time. The Force blackened with his rage. "You presume far too much, slaver."
With a vicious thrust of dark power, Vader forced his way into the Captain's mind, easily ignoring his feeble attempts to push Vader out and tearing through his memories searching for the answers to his questions.
Tell me what you did! He snarled.
– Tro had done this for years, had bought and sold countless children – they were nothing except price tags – faces of countless littles ones were ripped out of his memory, each of them malnourished and crying, begging to go home or simply quiet and resigned to their fates – Vader saw them all, looking for his son among the unfortunate – Jonun had new cargo for him – a boy, small, blonde, with a pretty face… - found him – the kid was a premium and would fetch a high price among the right crowd – Jonun, the lying BASTARD, selling him damaged goods – Tro squeezing Luke's handless arm, wanting to break it in his rage at the deception – Luke, being shoved against wooden crates, crying in pain and cradling his arm – too many bruises now, damn it, but he could make this work, they could still find a buyer – days later, pulling the male Togruta away from a cowering Luke, the rags he wore for clothes askew and torn – Fenik, you asshole! Try to touch the little bastard again and I'll be selling YOU next – barely remembering to toss a plate with what barely amounted to table scraps on the floor – fucking Imperials, the hell could they possibly want? –
Vader surfaced, not caring if he ripped the captains mind apart as he did so. He glared at the Weequay, watching him foam at the mouth and collapse in a fit.
The rest of the crew were watching their captain in horror, held in place by fear and the blasters trained steadily on them by the 501st.
So, the Antioch crew did not know who Luke was and were not responsible for his condition. This… transformation… had been done by someone else. He would find out who and he would set this to right. But first….
The Togruta, that filth – the scum of the galaxy, the one who dared try and touch his son – Vader clenched his fist and yanked him forward and away from the others.
He would suffer.
Vader would break every bone in his body, tear him apart limb from limb, slice him into pieces and force him to eat it before burning him alive in the fires of Mustafar because there was no other suffering which compared to that hell –
Behind him, Luke whimpered, burying his face further into the back of his leg.
And Vader… hesitated.
Slackening his grip, feeling his Sith rage lessen slightly, Vader glanced down at the child – at his son, who was perhaps almost twenty years younger than he was supposed to be.
Luke.
He was trembling.
Luke needed help.
Vader glanced up, glaring furiously at the Togruta. He would suffer. He would know pain. But… perhaps this was not the right time or place.
"Arrest them." Vader bit out, abruptly releasing the Togruta and allowing him to collapse to the ground, coughing and crying and bleeding from his eyes. With some effort, Vader began to dispel the spitting, raging monster that was the dark side of the Force until it was muted and quiet once again. "Take them to the detention cells. Put all of them in isolation. I want to know exactly what was done to my – to Skywalker."
The Admiral approached him as several of the 501st quickly took over the situation, putting the Antioch crew in binders and leading them out of the hangar bay.
None too gently, he noted with some small satisfaction.
"I will schedule an interrogation, my Lord, and see if we can learn of Skywalker's current whereabouts." Piett replied dutifully, before glancing down at Luke. "I will arrange for medical to take care of the child and see if we can find out who his family is – "
"Admiral." Piett paused at the interruption, looking back up at him and Vader continued dryly, gesturing downwards. "This is Skywalker."
The admirals' eyes widened and he did a double take, staring at Luke with open surprise. "Ah." He licked his lips, pointing a finger at him before thinking better of it and clenching his hand into a fist instead, biting his knuckle for a moment, his thoughts racing. After a moment, he dropped his hand and let out a slow breath, doing his best to gather himself professionally. "I… see. Shall I still call for a medic, my Lord?"
"Do so. No," he said quickly, changing his mind. "Retrieve one yourself. Keep the details vague. The name Luke Skywalker is not to leave this hangar and no one is allowed to leave. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal clear, Sir. I will see to the details." Piett said.
The admiral stepped aside to make good on his word and Vader had the faintest sense of his utter bewilderment before his attention shifted fully to the child still hiding against him.
"Luke," Vader hesitated, uncertain of how exactly he was supposed to proceed. In another life he had been good with children. In this life… in this life, he had no real business being around children. Not after all that he had done - he was a monster, after all. But Luke was his son. His responsibility - the last remnants of his family. He could figure out this out.
After a moment of consideration, he carefully dropped into a crouch, trying not to jostle his child too much as Luke shifted out from under Vader's cape more to the front of him in order to avoid being squashed.
His eyes were red from crying and a discolored bruise, a few days old, decorated his cheek.
"Hello Luke." He said quietly, sending soft, nearly indiscernible pulses of quiet safe warm through their shared bond in an attempt to try and set the child at ease. Vader lifted a hand towards Luke's face, pausing only when he shrank back in fear, noticeably trembling. "Can I remove this for you?"
Luke stared at him uneasily for a long moment, his Force presence bright and ever-shifting. Flickers of chaotic thoughts and emotions streamed freely and unknowingly along their bond. The dark display of power used on the captain of the Antioch and the Togruta had frightened him terribly.
"Do not be afraid, Luke. I will not hurt you." Vader promised, letting the Force chime with the truth of his words.
Long seconds passed and then a minute went by and then almost two. Finally, Luke nodded very hesitantly.
With a little Force manipulation and a gentle tug, the gag came away and was tossed to the side. It had been secured tightly enough that it left raw indentations on the sides of his mouth. Luke rubbed at the marks with the back of his hand, his blue eyes flooding once again with tears. The sight made Vader want to break someone in half.
Behind them, the doors to the Antioch closed with a loud hiss – a common enough sound in a hangar bay but one which was entirely unfamiliar to his young son and only served to spook Luke further. He jolted at the sound and drew a little closer to him, pressing against his side and clutching at Vader's arm as if he were terrified someone would try and drag him away.
"I… I want to go home." Luke whimpered for the first time, staring up at him with big pleading eyes. "Will you take me home, please?"
Home.
It took all the self-control Vader didn't have to not react with possessiveness or anger. Though he was not practiced in displaying gentler emotions... he could certainly try. For Luke, he could try.
Home for this child was on Tatooine with Beru and Owen and even if he'd ever been inclined to return his son to his guardians, it was entirely impossible. They were dead and had been for several years now.
But Luke… Luke was so young – he didn't need to know that. Not when he couldn't possibly understand and now when Vader did not yet know how Luke had come to be this age and in this situation, or how long he'd been amongst slavers for. At least for now, and until Vader knew more, his son had been through enough.
"Yes, little one." Vader replied, once again sending kind, gentle pulses of calm safe relax through their bond, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible but also trying to learn what he could while the opportunity was available to him. Luke's presence in the Force felt more established than a typical younglings' was at so innocent an age. It was wildly powerful but also out of control – loose, in a way that could only be explained by Luke having no concept of what the Force was at this age in the first place.
How was this possible? What did those scum do to his son?
What was he supposed to do to fix this?
It had to be undone – this… whatever this was – could not be allowed to continue indefinitely. In this condition, Luke was far too vulnerable and if the Emperor were to find out, then he would surely jump at the opportunity to take Luke from him and break him into the capable, powerful servant that Vader had failed to be for him. There was no one to stop him, no Jedi council to hide from, no politicians or wars to manipulate from both sides, no higher authority to please. Palpatine had the galaxy in his fist and could dedicate all his energy to a new apprentice if he wanted to.
Luke would be completely at his mercy, could be twisted and tortured and molded and broken into a tool and a weapon even at this age. Or perhaps, especially at this age.
It would happen, if Vader didn't hide this.
And if the last twenty years had taught Vader anything, it was that he could not keep secrets from the Emperor for very long.
Stretching out into the Force, Vader quietly and immediately began to gather Luke's presence into his, using his darkness to obscure him from Sight, both shielding and restricting him. He was so bright in the Force that it would be impossible to hide him completely but finding him would be like looking through a dark, cloudy haze and all the more difficult for it.
Luke's brow furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar sensation, and Vader felt his anxiety spike as he felt something that he had no words to describe happening to him. Vader gently reached out and tilted Luke's chin up with his fingers to distract him from it. "I will return you to your aunt and uncle safely."
The distraction worked and there was a confused cluster of scattered thoughts and impressions instantly racing along their bond – cold-familiar-not familiar-family?-but who-don't know-scary-home – as Luke looked up at him, finding at meeting his eyes perfectly through his mask. It had been a long time since someone had done that and longer since anyone had been willing to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
Holding Luke's stare and radiating as much calm as he possibly could, Vader could not stop himself from wishing that he could see that Luke's eyes were blue for himself. He had seen Luke with his own eyes only in holos, taken from a distance and rarely of decent quality. The danger of the situation aside, it seemed infinitely unfair that his child was before him now, at an age where there could be no lightsabers or wars between them… and yet it still felt so far.
All the reports and descriptions said that Luke's eyes were blue.
He wondered if they were the same shade that Anakin's had been.
Not quite set completely at ease but looking perhaps more hopeful, Luke sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand again. "…really? You mean it?"
"Yes. Really." Vader promised. "However, we are very far from Tatooine." He warned gently. "It might take us a few days to arrive there."
"Days?" Luke repeated, his Force signature spiking slightly with renewed concern. He glanced around the hangar bay, so drastically different from anything he'd ever seen before at this age, and then edged even closer to Vader as if worried that the ships or the stormtroopers still hovering nearby might spring to life and attack him at any second. "But… my auntie – Uncle Owen… they'll be scared cause I'm not home. What if… what if they think that a womp rat catched me?"
Despite everything, Vader couldn't stop himself from smiling then. His resentment towards the reality of Luke's childhood guardians aside… the question was so innocent and even safely hidden within the folds of his darkness, Luke was so light. It had been decades since he'd felt something so pure.
His son was an absolute marvel.
"I think your aunt and uncle know that you are much too clever for even a womp rat to catch." Vader replied seriously, cautiously lifting his hand. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out to ruffle Luke's sun bleached hair. It succeeded in getting the tiniest smile to cross his face and Vader felt his heart flutter with some unnamable emotion at being the one to elicit it. "Do not worry. The time will go by much quicker than you think, little one – and I will keep you safe until then. Will you let me do that?"
Luke cast one more wary glance around them, his eyes lingering uncertainly on the stormtroopers and other hangar bay personnel. An indistinct, subconscious thought – something blurry and unfocused – was whispering avoid-danger-not safe. Without truly understanding the warning, Luke quickly nodded up at him. "Yes please." He said with a small voice.
"Very well." Vader said warmly. He glanced away for a moment to look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Piett had returned with a medic. "Just stay close to me, little one."
He rose to his feet and felt Luke cling once again to his side, shyly pressing his face into Vader's leg to hide from the newcomers. Vader rested a hand on top of his head as a foreign attempt at comfort. The feeling of warm relief that crossed between them convinced him that it had been the right thing to do.
Once Luke had been tended to and cleared by a professional - once he was convinced Luke had not been hurt besides the obvious, Vader would see to it that he had a warm bath, a meal, and a chance to rest. Arrangements would need to be made to ensure his presence on the Executor remained a secret. The hangar bay staff would need to be questioned and anyone who had questionable loyalties between Vader or the Emperor would be swiftly executed. Once the most immediate threats to Luke's safety were dealt with, he would go about setting everything to right.
Vader had been willing to give his adult son the entire galaxy - the Empire was his birthright, after all - but until this very instant, he'd never realized that he would also rip it to shreds for him too.
A/N I forgot I had written this. Marking this as complete for now, but I might add to it at some point (I have extensive notes for this thing XD), but I want to finish What Lurks in the Dark before I start another project.
Chapter 2 of which is underway and I hope to have it finished within the next week or two. Sooner, if I can find my mojo. :)
