Luke turned one way and another, his breath shaky, everywhere he looked he was met with unrelenting blackness, he could see nothing, and his powers in the Force betrayed him as he felt warning sensors all throughout his body, felt icy tingling sensations from his neck to his knees, turning and cutting through the air with his light saber at every point, hearing nothing, feeling nothing to indicate he'd hit a target, just an overwhelming sensation that there was danger everywhere and there was no escape. He heard his breathing become labored, distressed, loud and heaving. His mouth felt as dry as the desert planet Tatooine, he was breathing through his mouth partly because everything felt so dry, he felt if he actually closed it, it would stick shut.
"Luke."
He heard his father's voice but even that presence he couldn't register through the Force, Luke felt like he was the only thing standing in an anti-gravity chamber, like everything around him had just fallen away.
"Luke."
The voice seemed even more distant now as Luke was jumping from one side to the other instead of merely turning, sharply slicing through the air with his light saber, listening for the sound of contact, the sensation of something falling, but there was nothing, but the threat of danger was even more prevalent, he was going to die.
"Luke!"
Finally he felt something and at first he couldn't register what the sensation was that knocked the air out of him and threw him to the floor, but after he writhed around on the floor screaming for a few seconds he started to distinguish the sensations of the sheer weight, along with the armor and leather, and though it took a minute for him to actually calm down, when he finally did Luke realized that he'd essentially been tackled by his father.
"Luke, calm down!" the modulated voice roared in his head. Luke scrambled to free his hands that had gotten pinned under him when he was knocked down, he blindly and frantically reached to rip off the blindfold. Light burned his eyes and he closed them for a second before opening them again and seeing it was the lights overhead, the room became familiar again.
"Father!"
"Luke," oof, he hated when his father said his name like that, drawing the 'u' sound out so his name sounded like it was 10 letters long. As a kid that was usually the way his father addressed him when he was in trouble. "Calm down, look around you, you're fine, everything is all right."
Luke's whole chest burned as he heaved air in and it went right back out, even to his ears his breathing sounded alarming, but he couldn't stop himself. He heard himself wheezing and gasping and tried to tune it out and instead focused on his father talking to him, trying to get him to calm down. As his breathing finally slowed down and his chest no longer felt like it was going to explode, he felt his father's weight ease off of him and he was finally able to get up. He looked around the room and saw the droids scattered around the floor, all in one piece. He hadn't hit a single one of them. This realization weighed even heavier on him than his father's half machine body, Luke squeezed his eyes shut and groaned before bursting into tears. The fear, the panic, the frustration, it all weighed on him like a ton of asteroids.
Luke grimaced when he felt the gloved hands on the sides of his face, tried not to do it again when he felt the leather-clad durasteel thumbs lightly brush over his cheeks.
"You are too upset for this to work," his father noted, "we will stop for today."
Luke wanted to put as much distance between himself and his father as was possible, but instead he found himself practically clinging to the man in black, unable to tear away from him. Vader placed one arm behind Luke's shoulders and walked him out of the training room.
A few nights later, Luke lay on his side in bed, with his back to the door when it slid open and his father walked into the dark room.
"Luke?"
Hearing his name seemed to dissolve any control the boy thought he had. He wouldn't turn to face his father, but gave up on holding his breath and instead the room filled with the sound of soft sobs. Luke felt a cold chill run through his body when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.
"I know the last few days have been hard on you," Darth Vader told his son, "but you're doing well."
"No I'm not!" Luke sobbed in response.
Every day it was the same unending nightmare. He put on the blindfold and allowed himself to be disoriented so he'd truly be blindly operating and he would try to use the Force to determine where the alien droids were before they could reach him. He missed far more times than he actually hit, and to date only a handful of the droids had been successfully destroyed in the process.
"I can't do it again, Father," Luke insisted, "please don't make me go through it again tomorrow!"
"Luke, turn over and look at me."
"No," Luke half buried his face in his pillow, and if anything he tried turning himself even farther away from his father without rolling flat on his stomach.
The hand moved from his shoulder down his back and he felt a strange sensation as it moved in a circular motion, Luke knew it was supposed to be comforting but the contrasting feelings of his shirt and the firm leather brushing against it was about tickling him and he felt like he was going to cough.
"I know how difficult this is for you, Luke," his father told him, "but I'm proud of you."
That made him turn over, he looked up into those tinted lenses with tear stained eyes and a voice half broken into sobs, "You are?"
"Yes. I know how terrifying this whole ordeal has been for you, and every day you confront it again."
"That doesn't count, it's because you don't give me a choice," Luke replied.
"It doesn't matter. I know you will defeat it."
"I wish I could be as sure about it as you are," Luke commented.
"I'm not sure what I'm doing here," Luke told the academy's behaviorist the next day. "I'm not sure there's anything you can do to help me."
"Your father's explained the situation to me," the doctor replied. "Least of all the best that he can, I thought you might be able to throw more light onto the subject."
Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what I can tell you. I just can't do this."
"Why can't you, Luke?"
He shrugged again. "Because when I can see them coming, I know what's going on...when I can't see them...they're just everywhere, they're everywhere, and they're nowhere, and I can't focus."
"What goes through your mind when you're trying to sense them?" the older man asked.
"What they're going to do when they attack me," Luke said.
"Even though your father already explained they're mechanically harmless."
Luke nodded.
The man seemed to be in silent contemplation for a moment.
"Luke, I asked your father to stop by earlier before he brought you in," the behaviorist said. "I want to show you something, and I want you to explain something to me."
"What is it?"
Luke found himself following the man into the academy's med bay, it was empty, but there was one table with a sheet drawn over it and a large lump in the middle of it.
"I've heard a lot about this alien, these droids, but I need a visual aid to get a better idea of what we're dealing with," the man said as he drew the sheet back.
Luke felt himself throw his back up against the wall before he realized he was looking at one of the droids and not the real alien creature itself.
"This is one of them, correct?" the behaviorist asked.
Luke nodded. "Yeah, that's one of them."
The man gestured to the realistic looking droid and asked, "Can you walk me through what this thing does? The real thing?"
Luke stepped over to the table, holding his body rigid as if he was expecting having to cut and run at a moment's notice, but he pointed at various parts and told the doctor, "These are the claws it digs into your face...so it can't be ripped off without killing you. And..." Luke almost reached out and touched the tail but drew his hand back at the last second as if expecting it to actually be alive, "it wraps this tail around your neck, and if anybody tries to remove it, it strangles you."
"What else does it do?" the older man wanted to know.
"It has some kind of chemicals it can paralyze you and put you in a coma...but I'm not really sure how that works."
"What about the embryo? Where's it come from?" the man inquired.
"There's a tube thing that comes out of it...right about..." Luke felt the button and pressed it, "here."
"Mm-hm," the man hummed as he examined the tube, "and while you're unconscious, it sticks this down your throat to implant the embryo."
"Uh, it's all kind of a blur," Luke answered, "it all happens so fast but...you're aware of it before you're unconscious, see this...these...the...well you can see it's like a giant hand, the claws act as fingers and they pull your lips open and force your jaw apart to insert the tube while it's attaching itself to your face...that's...that's about the last thing before you're in a coma."
"But your father stipulated these are mechanically harmless, right? No chemicals, no acid, no embryo."
Luke nodded again. "Yeah, and as soon as it grabs hold of your face and depresses the tube, it deactivates so you can remove it. It doesn't have the strength the real ones do either."
The behaviorist nodded and commented, "All a bit technical when you stop to think about it, isn't it?"
Luke nodded uncertainly.
"So," the behaviorist picked the droid up, "if I turned this thing on...it would fly at me?"
Luke shrugged, "Fly...jump...it moves so fast it's hard to really tell."
"Would I be in any physical danger?" the behaviorist wanted to know.
Luke shook his head. "Shouldn't be."
"But if anything went wrong, you would know how to deactivate it, correct?" the behaviorist asked.
The young blonde nodded. "Yeah, Father showed me."
"With your permission then, I'd like to try it," he said.
Luke's eyes widened, "You've got to be kidding."
"Who knows?" the man replied nonchalantly, "this could prove a most educational experience. How do you activate it?"
Luke turned it over long enough to find the control and turned the droid on, and stood back, pressing himself flat against the wall, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. After a few seconds, the droid seemed to spring to life and cut through the air, jumping at the behaviorist and wrapping itself around his face. Luke felt his eyes widen to their maximum capacity and felt his heart jump into his throat as he watched this, his first instinct to run over and rip it off, but he steeled himself to stay where he was and reminded himself that it was only a droid, not the real thing, there was no real danger, and he shouldn't interfere, as impossible as that felt. There was a muffled sound of a brief struggle as the behaviorist grabbed the droid and tried to pull it off of him. After a few seconds its appendages went limp and he removed it, revealing the tube had been inserted down his throat.
"Not a particularly pleasant experience, is it?"
Luke shook his head. He looked at the droid, and at the behaviorist, and said quietly, "I know it can't really hurt me...I know I'm not being reasonable about the whole thing...but every time I see them coming at me, I remember the real one...and it all just comes flooding back."
"That's perfectly understandable," the older man told Luke. "I can appreciate why this has been such a hard experience for you, and I'm sure your father does too."
"Every day, he keeps thinking I'm finally going to be able to channel them and destroy them...and every day I fail," Luke said.
"And that upsets you," the behaviorist noted.
"He won't let me back in the academy until I do it," Luke said.
"Do you think that's unreasonable?"
"Yes...I don't know," Luke answered. "I've waited for years to join the academy, all my friends are there, I'm stuck here dealing with this, it's not fair."
The behaviorist raised a hand to get Luke's attention, "You said that your fears are not reasonable...I think they are, I just think they're different than the ones you think they are."
"What's that mean?" Luke asked.
"Your real fear doesn't seem to lie in these droids, or even the prospect of finding another alien like this," the doctor told Luke. "Your real fear appears to be that of failure, that you in fact won't be able to complete this training."
"Well I can't! I told my father that from day one, but he won't listen," Luke insisted, "He just keeps saying that he knows I can."
The behaviorist nodded, but responded, "Are you familiar with the term 'self-fulfilling prophecy', Luke?"
"Somewhat," Luke said, "you make something happen because you believe it's going to happen anyway."
"Sort of, yes," the behaviorist told him, "your father seems to be trying to exhibit that, he's convinced if he keeps reinforcing the idea you can do it, that ultimately you will...but at the same time, you seem to be exhibiting one of your own. You seem to subconsciously believe by insisting you can't do it, that you truly won't be able to."
"Why would I do that?" Luke asked.
"The real question is why would your subconscious do that?" the behaviorist asked.
Luke shrugged again. "Beats me."
"You know, Luke," the doctor said as he sat down, "I wonder if you and your father are both harboring the same fears."
Luke squinted one eye questioningly. "What's that mean?"
"What you went through was nothing short of traumatic, having nearly died, and recovering those memories after the fact, you have every right to be upset...but don't forget your father saw you attacked and even he himself was powerless to stop it, he watched you nearly die and he couldn't do anything about it. For any parent, that's their greatest nightmare...and imagine how much worse it would be to be one of the most powerful people in the entire universe, and still be completely helpless to save your own child."
Luke glanced to the floor as that sank in. He'd never thought about it like that.
"You're an only child, Luke?" the man asked.
Luke nodded.
"So your father was very likely already experiencing separation anxiety at the prospect of you joining the academy and leaving home, leaving him."
Luke looked up at the man. "He never told me that."
"He wouldn't, he knew you were an adult and could make your own decisions, he knew how excited you were to be joining with your friends, and he didn't want to ruin that for you," the behaviorist said. "Then when you were attacked, it reawakened the most primal urge in all parents, the need to protect their child at any cost. Separation anxiety is very common for children and parents alike, as long as you were home, your father could know everything that was going on in your life, and he could protect you from everything. That instinct never dies out, after 20 years it's a first nature for parents, no matter how old their children get they feel their job is to protect their kids from anything and everything that's out there that could possibly harm them. It's very hard for them to learn to let go and trust they raised their kids with the proper instincts to protect themselves."
"And that's why he's making me do this?" Luke asked.
"In a way, yes."
Luke folded his arms tight against his chest and thought for a minute.
"You said we were both harboring the same fears," he said.
"When a child grows up and is out on their own in the galaxy for the first time, it's a very confusing and overwhelming time," the behaviorist told him, "you're hit with a multitude of emotions, one tends to focus solely on the positive ones, excitement, anticipation, most don't dare give voice to the others that are plaguing them: doubt, uncertainty, fear of the unknown, fear of failure, because for some reason it doesn't seem that all can exist in the same instant, but they can, because for many, for the first time in their lives they're also hit with a plethora of possibilities and now suddenly all decisions are theirs and theirs alone. If they make the right choices, they can revel in succeeding as an adult, if they pick the wrong ones they view it as failure on their part, rather than a learning experience that is necessary to continue growing and developing. Nobody has all the answers at 18, 20, but everybody expects to have them, and many have trouble accepting anything else as a viable possibility. How long had you wanted to join the flight academy?"
"As far back as I can remember," Luke answered. "I've always wanted to be a pilot."
"I would imagine," the behaviorist said. "Just as I imagine it's not always easy being Lord Vader's son and only child. I imagine that comes with very high expectations."
"I...I suppose it does," Luke said uncertainly.
"Luke, do you know how many young men who enroll in the academy never complete their training, and drop out?"
Luke shook his head.
"Are you worried with your father pulling you out, that you won't be able to return and complete your training?"
"Of course I'm worried, he won't let me go back until I'm able to destroy every last one of those droids blindfolded, who wouldn't be worried?" Luke asked.
"And if that happened, are you worried your father would be disappointed in you?" the behaviorist asked.
"He thinks I can do it, of course he'd be disappointed if I don't," Luke answered.
"And that terrifies you," the behaviorist said.
"I..." Luke closed his mouth, then opened it again, but still no further sound would come out.
"Have you ever disappointed your father before, Luke?" the behaviorist asked.
"No...I...I don't think so," Luke said.
"What would've happened if you did?"
"I...I don't know."
"Did your father have high expectations of you growing up?" the doctor inquired.
"I..." Luke shrugged cluelessly.
"Were you expected to be a perfect student in school, perfect at everything you did?"
Luke shook his head helplessly. "I don't ever remember...him saying anything about it. He...it never really seemed to come up."
"So if for the first time in your life, you disappoint your father now, what do you anticipate would happen because of it?" the behaviorist asked.
Luke thought for a moment, and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
The older man interwove his fingers in front of him and asked, "Are you afraid of upsetting your father, Luke?"
"I begged him to let me join the academy, how can I just drop out now?" Luke asked.
"But you said yourself it's his decision you must finish this training before you return."
"Yes."
"And he's certain you can do it."
"Yes."
"And you're certain you can't. That's very interesting, because while your father's natural instincts would be to want to keep you home and under his protection, his actions indicate he wants you to succeed so you can resume your flight training. But your negative reinforcement is only working to ensure that doesn't happen, and that you stay at home with him."
Luke pursed his lips together as he silently contemplated all of this.
"Perhaps this has also reawakened a primal fear of your own, to need your father and his protection surrounding you," the behaviorist suggested.
"I...I don't know," Luke said in defeat.
"Do you feel safe with your father around, Luke?" the behaviorist asked.
Luke shrugged. "Usually."
"Even though he wasn't able to protect you from the alien?"
Luke shrugged again. "I don't know...it just seemed...better when he's around."
"Because you knew you weren't going through this alone."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"And right now he's faced with a very difficult task, letting his only child go, and when something eventually happens, as one of the most powerful members of the Empire...he won't be there to do anything about it, so for his own reassurance, he has to know you are as capable of taking care of yourself as possible. Is that unreasonable?"
"I suppose not," Luke said with a small huff. "But what are the odds this could actually ever happen again?"
Now the behaviorist shrugged. "Maybe not, but parents don't weigh their fears by how likely something is to happen, just that it's a possibility, and when it's already happened once, the chances of re-occurrence could be next to impossible, but to the parent, it will always be a looming threat, because their sense of security has already been taken away by it happening the first time."
"I never thought about it like that," Luke admitted. He leaned back and exhaled, "Wow...I always thought I knew my father very well...I never realized he thought about all this kind of stuff."