Luke
One hour earlier
Luke did not know how long he'd been left alone when his door chimed. Why they bothered knocking when they were just going to come in anyway, Luke didn't know.
Danger.
Luke sat up, seeing Admiral Ozzel step through the door.
"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, still sitting in the middle of the room. He was sure he looked a mess with puffy eyes and rumpled clothes.
Ozzel eyed him disdainfully. "Is that any way to address an Admiral? Your father wants to speak with you. Come with me."
Danger!
"My father?"
"Lord Vader? Tall, dark, usually wears a cape? He's busy, child. He can't come to you, so you need to go to him. Let's go."
Standing slowly, Luke wiped his eyes before following after the Admiral. Stepping into the hall, Luke didn't see anyone else. "Where is Hal, or Tason?"
"Who? Stop stalling; let's go. Lord Vader is not a patient man."
"I...something's wrong. My father wouldn't let me go anywhere without Hal or Tason." Luke balked, leaning back towards his room.
Huffing, the Admiral came and grabbed his arm, holding him tight enough that Luke thought he might bruise.
"Hey – let go!" Luke yelped, but the Admiral simply started to drag him along.
"Why would your father think you need guards when you are with the Admiral? Let's go!" Ozzel head off down the hallway in a direction that Luke hadn't been before. Still feeling like something was off, Luke had no choice but to follow along, finding no one around to save him.
After almost fifteen minutes of walking, Luke found the two of them in an eerily quiet hallway, lit only with back up lights.
"My father is here?" Luke asked, still being dragged along. Ozzel was now holding his wrist. Tugging on his wrist harshly was all Luke received in answer. Unable to help the whine that escaped him, Ozzel glared back at him until he was silent. Screaming for help at this point would be next to useless – there didn't seem to be anyone around to help him.
Finally, they ended up in a way too quiet hangar bay, Luke wondering how Ozzel managed to pull that off. Luke assumed that just like on the rebellion ships, a hangar bay would remain especially busy on a Star Destroyer if only for mechanics making repairs to ships. Ozzel dragged him forward towards a ship, the anxious feeling in Luke's chest doubling as they went forward.
"Where are we? What's going on? Why would my father be in a hangar bay?" Luke began to pull back, trying to break the grip of the Admiral.
Turning towards him with a devilish grin, Ozzel finally showed his true colors. Letting Luke go unexpectedly, Luke fell to the floor, smacking his wrist into the ground. Pain lanced up his arm, Luke certain it was at least fractured if not a clean break. Blinking back tears, he cradled it to his chest.
"Child, it's too bad your father is the Dark lord. The credits on your head right now are absolutely unimaginable. Of course, getting you here has been worth every penny – your luck is what is unimaginable."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been trying for three days now to get you sequestered – first, that Major carries faulty equipment so I couldn't order him to bring you to me, and then yesterday he stopped me from taking you at lunch. I wish I could have brought that Major with you to take care of him as well, but I suppose I'm lucky this opportunity came up at all! I had to pull every string to get that meeting set up so last minute."
Luke wasn't sure what meeting Ozzel was speaking about, but everything was starting to become clear. A sickening picture began to form for Luke: someone had placed a bounty on his head, and Ozzel was in the perfect position to profit from it. But how had someone already figured out Luke was Vader's son?
"Who paid you off?" Luke spat, channeling his pain into his words.
Sneering at him, Ozzel grinned. "Who cares? You're dead."
Luke's heart plummeted into his stomach. Things aren't going to play out the way you expect. If only Obi-wan had been more specific. Luke had no way of reaching anyone – he had not even been provided a comm to call anyone. Obviously, Ozzel had given orders to his guards and anyone else paying attention while his father was distracted with something.
"He's going to kill you for this."
Luke never imagined that those words would pass his lips. Never before had he felt the desire to threaten someone, though this wasn't really threatening. Even though Luke barely knew his father, he knew that Vader would not leave Ozzel alone for this. Whether Ozzel succeeded in murdering Luke or not, Vader would destroy him molecule by molecule for this. There was no way a man that worked so closely with his father wouldn't already know this.
"Just let me go, and I won't tell him a word."
"Please, like I would believe that. It's too late – they are already here."
Looking over, Luke felt a chill run over his body. An Imperial supply ship was sitting in the middle of the hangar, several men stepping off. Luke didn't recognize a single soul among them, panic starting to consume him. The most likely choice was these were alliance men – none were dressed like Imperials, rather they had a ragtag effect. This was around the time in the past that the alliance was starting to form, starting in small groups across the galaxy trying to commit deeds of bravery against the Empire.
But who had the support and backing to infiltrate the flagship of the Imperial fleet? Was the Alliance already so strong at this point in time? Luke couldn't remember, his breath catching in his chest.
Breathe, Luke.
Taking a stuttering breath, Luke tried to calm himself in the Force, but it was easier said then done, his heart still hammering against his rib cage.
"Took you long enough – do you know how hard it is to remain inconspicuous aboard a Star Destroyer?" One of the men immediately grumbled, stepping forward as the leader.
"Yes, well there were complications." Pulling Luke to his feet again by his good arm, Ozzel shoved Luke towards the rebel members. "Here he is – where is my payment?"
One of the members that had come to collect – or maybe just kill – him stepped forward, tossing a bag towards Ozzel. Greedily scooping it up, Ozzel frowned. "It's empty!"
Grinning, the rebel held up a blaster. "Did you think we'd let you live? What kind of a fool are you?"
Without a second thought, the man shot the Admiral, Luke gasping. Ozzel fell, dead before he hit the ground.
Paling, Luke glanced towards the man who had now turned his attention towards him.
"So you're the kid everyone is throwing such a fuss over, huh?" The man came closer, turning Luke's head up with the tip of his blaster. "Too bad. I hate to kill such innocence."
"You don't have to kill at all – killing isn't the answer!" Luke spat back, sickened.
Maybe it was because he had yet to see a dead body with his own eyes in this timeline, but somehow the body of Ozzel laying beside them made him want to vomit. The man's glassy gaze was fixed on him as if even in death Ozzel was trying to blame him for everything.
"Sadly, kid, for the betterment of everyone else, you have to go."
Something about the man's words felt wrong, Luke using all of his effort to reach for the Force. Though it wasn't clear, Luke could tell that the man's intentions were coming from somewhere – no, someone, else. This wasn't personal like it was to most rebels – this man was being paid to do this.
"Who hired you to do this?" Luke demanded.
The man's eyes lit up, entertained, obviously not expecting Luke to put the pieces together. Of course, if Luke hadn't lived a life before or had the Force, there was probably no way he would have put it together.
"Why do you care?"
"If I'm going to die, it would be great to at least know why." Luke retorted.
"It's too bad that life isn't fair, kid."
The intention rang clear, Luke's eyes widening as he realized the man was going to pull the trigger. Closing his eyes, Luke felt all his emotions rise up in a jumble around him: pain, confusion, anger, frustration. Was this how he died this time, without even a chance to grow up?
With a huge shove of the Force, Luke tried to clear his emotions away and accept his fate, instead hearing the squeal of metal and the yelps and grunts from men. Opening his eyes slowly, Luke's jaw dropped.
Suddenly exhausted, Luke wasn't sure he was comprehending what his eyes were trying to tell him. The men – all of them, were knocked out against the ship they'd been standing in front of. The ship itself had even shifted over, like someone had given it a shove.
Pushing himself with his good arm to his feet, Luke turned and stumbled away, just barely keeping his feet under him. Unsure where he was going, he didn't want them to wake up first and find him still in the hangar bay. Leaving the way they'd come in, Luke turned and simply began to walk.
Using his hand to guide him down the hall, Luke entered through the next door he found. Apparently he'd managed to find some sort of small storage area, Luke clutching his injured arm to his chest and curling up as best he could out of sight underneath one of the shelves before passing out.
Darth Vader
Following the scream that came at him from the Force, Vader found them down in the supply depot, currently empty since they had already inventoried all the supplies from the last load. Or should he say should have been empty; rather, there were five unconscious men and two dead, one of which was a very deceased Admiral Ozzel. One of the unconscious men was the shadow he'd assigned to his son, but there was no sign of Luke anywhere in the room.
Piett rushed over to the Admiral to check his pulse, but Vader did not need the confirmation. Going over to the shadow, Vader gripped the man by the front of his robes and lifted him, the shadow blinking a couple of times.
"M-master?" the Shadow stuttered.
"Where is the boy?!" Vader roared, his patience now nonexistent.
"B-boy? The boy...yes…" Head lolling, the shadow seemed to pale further when there was no sight of Luke. "He...pushed us. All of us. Master...he's more powerful than...the Emperor."
"That was not what I asked – where is he?!" Vader set the man down on his feet, the shadow crumbling to his knees as soon as Vader let go.
Shaking his head, the shadow shrugged. "I'm not sure. I realized something was wrong when I noticed his guards weren't at his door. So I followed which way his presence traveled, only when I got here...I walked in, then something hit me."
"Vice Admiral, find the security footage for this room."
Nodding, Piett rushed over to the one of the offices. At this point, several storm troopers came into the room, looking around in confusion.
Walking up to the dead man, Vader found that the man's neck had been snapped in half, a dent in the ship matching the blow to his head. He'd been shoved head first into the ship, most likely on accident. The others must have been farther away, only knocked unconscious.
But if Luke had managed to knock them all out, then where was he? There was no one on the ship, unless there had somehow been two ships. But why would they take Luke and leave their allies?
Reaching into the Force, Vader was floored: there was a very dim trace of his son, but otherwise the child was desperately trying to protect himself. He had hidden himself away in the Force, and even someone of Vader's caliber could not find him.
"Search everywhere. We must find him at once!"
The troopers spread out in a swarm, Vader heading back the way they came. There was no way to understand exactly what Luke was thinking, but if he was hurt in some way he likely would have tried to find help.
But much to Vader's surprise, before he could get very far at all, he heard Piett shout after him. "My lord, over here!"
Rushing towards the Vice Admiral, Vader froze in the doorway of a storage room just outside of the depot. Curled away where he thought he wouldn't be noticed was Luke, a swollen arm cradled against his chest as he protected it in his sleep. Gently reaching down, Vader scooped him into his arms, feeling the terror emanating from the child in deep, overwhelming waves even in his dreams.
"Tell the medical center to expect a patient."
Not waiting for Piett to reply, Vader headed off in that direction, leaving behind the mess in the supply depot for his subordinates to deal with.
Anger consumed every fiber of his being, Vader having to consciously stop his fingers from clenching around his son. If Ozzel hadn't already been dead...there is no telling the terror that Vader would have inflicted upon him for his choices.
The doctor that had treated Luke previously was waiting for their arrival, Vader reluctantly handing Luke over.
Hands clenching into fists, the waiting room furniture began to shake, Piett – whom Vader had not realized was still right beside him – stepping forward into his line of vision.
"My lord, I know it's not my place, but I'm sure he'll be fine. Children are quite resilient."
The furniture quit trembling. "Did Ozzel die in front of my child?"
Wincing, Piett held out a pad. "Yes, my lord."
"What aren't you saying?" Vader did not want to see with his own eyes the video of his son suffering at the hands of those mongrels. Still, he took it, watching as Luke not only watched Ozzel shot when the man was merely a few feet from him, then the rebel held a blaster against Luke's throat, smiling at him like some maniac.
"That is the rebel that died."
"Yes, my lord."
"That is most regrettable."
The doctor returned before Piett could reply to the cryptic comment. "My lord, Luke had a clean break in his right arm and a nearly dislocated shoulder. Both have been set and should heal without any need for surgical interference. We sedated him to set his arm, and I think combined with his exhaustion he will sleep for at least the next six to eight hours."
"How long will it take for him to heal?"
"We've wrapped his arm in bacta, but it will still be several months before it is fully healed. His shoulder should be fine in a couple of weeks as long as he rests it appropriately."
"May I see him?"
Bowing, the doctor gestured towards the open door. "Of course. We have him in his own room."
"Admiral Piett, please inform the proper channels what happened. I do not wish to be disturbed."
"Yes, my lord." Now a definite tremble could be heard in Piett's voice as Vader walked away, leaving the man to contemplate his new role.
The room Luke had been brought to felt far too stifling without even a view port for the child to look out of. Not that he was doing much looking currently, Luke unconscious and completely pale like the white sheets on the bed.
Standing at the foot of the bed, Vader watched as Luke shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, his arm in both a cast and a sling.
This – the child in the bed before him, and the mess in the supply depot – was all his fault. How had he not realized how deeply Ozzel's ill intentions ran? How had he not seen the way the man was watching his son, just waiting for an opportunity to destroy him? How was it even possible that after only a few days of finding his son, the rebels already knew to target him?
The rebels sickened Vader. How they could justify any of their actions after trying to murder an innocent child was beyond him. To murder a child to get at the father was inexcusable, Vader itching to go out and demolish every rebel he could get his hands on – every base, every sympathizer, every citizen that dared think they knew better. If he destroyed them all, none would be able to hurt his son.
Standing over Luke, Vader saw the way his shadow fell over his son like a blanket from the lights on the ceiling. Perhaps if he consumed his son in his own shadow, no one else would be able to harm him.
The hours ticked by, one by one, Vader standing in his silent vigil without a word. The shadow was outside the door, but Vader did not acknowledge his presence. When the eighth hour ticked by with no signs of Luke waking, Vader turned and walked out the door, pausing once by the shadow.
"Do not leave his side, or your life will be forfeit."
Vader did not hear if the shadow replied before storming out of the medical bay, the doctors all quickly moving out of his way. Not one tried to stop and speak to him, nor did Luke's personal doctor try to reassure him of anything.
The Force spoke of Luke's stability, but Vader wasn't worried about Luke waking up. He was worried about what would happen when Luke did wake up. Vader remembered the first time he watched a man he cared about die – Qui-gon had literally saved him from the pits of slavery despite simply switching his slaver to that of the Jedi. Still, it was obvious the man had cared for him, and any planet was better than Tatooine.
Luke hadn't cared for the Admiral, that much was clear – actually, Vader had several times picked up on Luke's severe distrust of the man. But watching someone die in front of you, especially at twelve years old, was painful no matter what. They had not even been reunited a single week before this catastrophe and Vader had no idea how to turn it around.
The air rippled with the Force as Vader walked, people literally flattened against the walls as he passed as if a hurricane were passing through. Word of his foul mood was probably spreading through the ship like a disease, but Vader did not mind. It meant fewer fools would get in his way.
Making his way down to the detention center, Vader paused by the slightly trembling guard watching the door. The Force was coming off Vader in waves so powerful, it would have been hard for one even strong in the Force to resist the intimidation.
"My lord, how may I be of assistance?"
"The rebels that were captured in the supply depot...I want them brought to me in an interrogation room at once."
"Yes, my lord. At once!" The guard rushed off to relay the order, showing Vader to one of the rooms.
The four prisoners were dragged into the room together, all of them exchanging confused glances.
"So you are the fools that tried to kill my son."
The confused glances turned to those of desperate dread.
"What? No one has anything to say?"
There was a steel table bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. Without even gesturing towards it, Vader began to lift it with the Force, the bolts squealing in protest as it lifted off the ground.
"It confused me how anyone found out so quickly about him – it has not even been announced that I found my son. So foolishly, I believed him to be safe."
Cracks began to form through the center of the table, every snap of the metal causing the prisoners to flinch.
"But then I remembered that there was one that did know of my son and who was suspected of having rebel ties. If any of you right now say his name and confess, I will let you go."
All four gulped as if in sync, but none of them opened their mouths. The table shattered, shards of metal flying around the room. Several pieces struck the prisoners, shallowly cutting into them.
"I knew that wouldn't work. You rebels have your prides, after all. I already know who is to blame for my son, and I will make them suffer...just as much as you all."
Vader felt an odd shift in the Force, one of the prisoners offering him a sudden, chilling grin. It was a grin that should not belong on someone staring down Darth Vader – a grin of a complete and utter madman.
"I have a message for you."
None of the other prisoners went to stop him.
"A message?"
"Our leader was supposed to deliver it, but I will do so in his place."
"Do not try my patience – why would you have a message for me when you were trying to escape with the boy?"
But it was as if the prisoner did not hear him. "He wanted to see how powerful he was. He wants to know how far you will go to save him."
"He who?" Vader growled.
"That is what you need to find out." The prisoner started laughing.
Going to the door, Vader gestured towards the guard. "Were these prisoners given anything? Truth serum? Hallucinogens?"
The guard shook his head. "No, my Lord. We only received orders to imprison them separately."
As he was turning back towards the prisoners, his comm went off. Checking the time, Vader noted it had been ten hours now since his son had been practically comatose.
"Unless you have a death wish, this had better be good news." Vader growled.
"My lord, Luke is awake." The doctor managed to not stammer, Vader subtly impressed.
Crushing the comm between his fingers, Vader let it fall to the ground among the mess of the table. Stepping over the chaos, Vader paused in the doorway. "You are lucky that my son is awake. I will deal with you all later."
Pausing by the guard watching the cells, Vader did not know how to quell the storm of emotions washing over him. "The four prisoners are to stay alive and be transferred to the prison at the Imperial Palace."
"Yes, my Lord."
Heading towards the medical bay, Vader considered this odd position. It was possible the prisoner was simply mad, and the others broken in spirit. It was an oddly specific message, reminding Vader of the Emperor's strange comment from before. Perhaps everyone was simply curious to see how much Vader cherished his son, but how had they come to know about him in the first place? Only the people aboard this ship, the Emperor, and the lowly royalty of Alderaan even knew of their relationship.
Clenching his fingers into fists, Vader tried to sort through his emotions jumbling in the Force, finally giving up as he was unable to let go of his son's trembling presence in the Force. At the moment, the only pressing matter on his mind was his son that desperately needed his attention.
Still, even as he entered through the doors of the medical ward, Vader wondered if a public execution after stripping the prisoners of every word of knowledge they possessed would be enough to warn everyone not to touch a hair on his son's head again.