"Are you lost?"

Summary: Vader runs into a mechanic fixing his TIE who goes by the name Skywalker. The more that is revealed about this boy and his similarities to himself, the angrier he gets.

"Are you lost?"

Vader turned around to see a young mechanic holding a crate of tools. Of course, Vader was not lost.

"This is my ship," Vader said.

The mechanic looked up at the TIE Advance. The outside was scored with blaster burns and heavily dented.

"It may be," the boy said, "but I rarely see pilots hanging around when their ship is in for repairs."

"I am not a mere pilot, boy," Vader said pointing a finger at the youth.

The boy stared at the finger and then shrugged. Who was this boy? Where had he gone for his training and how had he graduated with such clear disrespect? Did he not know who he was talking to?

The boy placed the crate down near one of the wings. He dug through it and pulled out a hydrospanner. He placed his hand against the belly of the TIE and let it trail along it as he examined the damage. Vader had come here to deal with his ship himself. He did not need incompetent mechanics touching it. He was about to dismiss this . . . child, but was stopped by a simple word.

"Skywalker!"

Vader spun. A mechanic across the hangar froze with his arm raised as he realized it was Vader who stood next to the TIE. It was an appropriate response, but Vader was not focused on that. He was focused on that name. Skywalker. Why had it been said? Especially in front of him? Who was this mechanic? Did he know something and how-

"Yeah?"

Vader's helmet whipped around to the boy by his ship.

"What is it, Bak?" the boy asked again.

"You!" Vader snapped. His hand finger rising again to point at the boy. "What is your name?"

The boy titled his head. "Skywalker. Sir." He added the last word as if he suddenly remembered protocol.

"Skywalker?" Vader hissed. It came filled with heavy static through his vocoder.

"Yes, sir."

What were the chances this boy was named Skywalker? Vader took a closer look. It was more than just the name that reminded him of another with that name. This mechanic had blond hair, trimmed short in the military manner. His eyes were light, possibly blue but he couldn't be completely sure through the red lenses of his helmet.

The boy shrugged and started to undo some bolts. Vader stood there seething. What should he do with this boy who dared to have that name? His blood was boiling. His hands twisted into fists. The leather of his gloves creaked. Was this a cruel joke of the Force? Give him some sort of mirror of his younger self? He did not need any reminders of a fool Jedi that had lost everything. He slowly raised his right hand. The fingers already curled into a fist. He reached out in the Force to wrap it around the boy's throat-

"E chu ta!" the boy, Skywalker, cursed. Then he spoke in fluent Hutt grumbling to himself. "These stupid bolts."

"You speak Huttese?" Vader asked.

Skywalker looked up at him. He eyed Vader's raised curled fist. "Yes, sir. I was born and raised on Tatooine. Hutt controlled planet."

Vader missed a breath. His heart skipped a beat. This was a cruel joke. The boy was named Skywalker and from Tatooine and was now here in front of Vader? This was no coincidence. There were no coincidences in the Force. He marched over to the boy, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him off the floor.

"Who sent you here?" Vader demanded.

The boy's eyes were wide. "I . . . I don't understand sir? This is my bay. I'm just . . . doing my assignment? It was Lt. Furthrough who assigned me to your ship."

"Stop babbling," Vader barked. "I will ask this again, and you will answer carefully. Who sent you here in front of me?"

"I . . . I . . ."

A memory flashed before Vader's eyes of a beautiful woman on a landing pad on a volcanic world. Her face had crumpled as she shook it slightly from side to side. He slammed the memory away. Why was he thinking of her?

"Who are you?" Vader shouted.

"Skywalker. Luke Skywalker! I'm just a mechanic from Tatooine! My uncle was just a moisture farmer, sir!"

Vader's hand tightened around the boy's throat. Skywalker's pale eyes widened. His hands grasped at Vader's arm. He gasped and gurgled.

This boy would die. Then this reminder of Anakin Skywalker would be gone.

Something slipped out of the boy's sleeve. It was a pendant hanging from a black cord. Vader's grip eased and Skywalker took in large gulps of breath. Vader gently grabbed the pendant and looked at it. It was a Japor snippet, so similar to the one he had given Padme. Wood was precious on Tatooine, and even small pieces were used. The pendant was round and carved with delicate wavy lines, small circles, and a few small X's. All symbology native to Tatooine, especially to the slaves. They were symbols of luck and well wishes.

"Where did you get this?" Vader asked. He eased his grip some more and lowered his arm so the boy's feet could touch the ground. He could sense Skywalker trembling through his prosthetics. Pathetic. When he didn't answer fast enough, Vader demanded again, "Where did you get this?"

"It- it was my grandmother's," Skywalker said in a rough whisper. "She made it for my uncle, her step-son. He gave it to me. I . . . I never knew her. She died before I was born."

"Was she a slave?"

Skywalker blinked. "Yes? She was. My grandfather freed her and married her."

Vader suddenly felt dizzy. Why? Why was the boy here? Who was he? It was too similar. Too similar to him. A slave woman who been bought, freed, and then married. Who carved pendants out of Japor like his mother had done long ago and passed the skill on to her son.

Skywalker jerked away. Vader's hold had loosened too much. He backed away until he hit the wing of the TIE. The pendant's cord had snapped and was now in Vader's hand. His thumb gently rubbed over it, but he accidentally applied too much pressure. It flipped over revealing a small name engraved into the back.

Shmi.

No . . . That was . . . impossible! It could not be! It . . .

He looked back at the young mechanic. He looked to be the right age. His name was Skywalker. He had the blond hair and pale eyes . . . and there! Vader just noticed it. The small mark on his cheek that reminded him so much of her.

Vader took only a few large steps to reach Skywalker and towered over the boy, who cowered a bit. One hand was on his throat. Vader's large gloved hand grabbed the boy's chin and tilted it up. Yes. He could see it now. There were no coincidences. The boy had been placed in front of him for a reason. The Force had given him a gift.

Behind his mask, Vader smiled as he looked down at his son.