Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a clear, sunny morning in Imperial City when Luke awoke, and he immediately pulled up the blind, enjoying the sight of a steady stream of speeder traffic in the sky outside.

"Morning, Artoo," he said, seeing the astromech droid resting in the corner of his room. "Can you check if my father is home?"

Artoo made a positive whistle. While Luke was ordering some breakfast, he chirped and beeped, and the translation appeared on the main viewscreen.

He hasn't been here all night.

"Really? Did something big happen?" Luke frowned. If there was a major attack on the Empire's fleet, it meant his father would have to leave, and wouldn't be here to see his present. But he wouldn't normally leave Coruscant without leaving a message for him.

I will try and find out, Artoo sent.

An hour later, Luke was fully dressed, fed, and eager to go down and see the finished speeder, and there was still no sign of his father. A knot was fast forming in his stomach. What if something bad had happened? What if he was going to be away for weeks, just how it used to be when he'd first moved in? Artoo rolled up beside him, beeping gently.

"I know," Luke said, guessing what he was saying. "I just wish I knew."

The bedroom doors slid open, and Threepio entered, waving his arms. He had gone down to the assistant's office to see what he could find out.

"It seems all is well, Master Luke. Your father is up in the towers, speaking with the Emperor. It seems there was some criminal disturbance in Imperial City last night, but otherwise nothing unusual."

Luke released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Great! Well, if he's with the Emperor, then now's a good time to go and get the speeder. I'll leave a note saying I'm at Ben's. He'll probably be attending meetings after that anyway."

"I agree, Master Luke. I only hope this criminal disturbance did not affect Seagee's work."

"I think his neighborhood is one big criminal disturbance every day," Luke said.

"Indeed, Master Luke. I will be glad when we no longer have to visit it."

It was truly uncanny how the Emperor could stare at him in a way that somehow reminded him of Obi-Wan. That expression that was equal parts confusion and disbelief, with just a touch of annoyance.

"Lord Vader," he started. Then he trailed off, looking once again at the local HoloNet headlines scrolling across his desk.

Trail of bodies terrifies lower level gangs after a night of carnage

Confusion as local spice traders are found slaughtered

Law enforcement deny all knowledge of targeted assassinations of death stick dealers

"Lord Vader," he started again. Then he just shook his head. "Really?"

"They were a growing menace, Master," Vader insisted.

"But don't you have anything better to do? No, let me rephrase … I know you have something better to do than roam the city at night, killing spice dealers like some HoloNet character. If you had concerns, why not simply discuss the situation with the local law enforcement?"

"This was quicker."

A new headline began scrolling.

Local parent praises the actions of the mysterious assassin as runaway teen finally returns

During his exploits last night, he did encounter more than one teenager to whom he gave a stern lecture and orders to return home immediately, along with a threat that they knew what would happen if he ever saw them in the company of criminals again. It seemed at least one had listened. A teenager listening to his orders did make for a nice change.

"It seems you have some supporters, at least," the Emperor said, glancing down at a report on his desk. "Public relations tells me comments on the HoloNet are skewed very much in favor."

Vader remained silent.

After reading further down the report, his master looked up again, now with a penetrating look.

"They note a lot of the comments seem to be from parents who are members of some neighborhood protection league. Many of the locations their lobby group was concerned with were the same locations targeted last night."

He did make a point of visiting the park that had been brought to his attention by that group. As mentioned, it was crawling with spice and death stick traders. No longer.

The Emperor narrowed his eyes. "Does this have something to do with your son?"

"A spice gang targeted Luke's school," Vader admitted. "It was unacceptable."

"Ah. So you thought an appropriate response was hunting down and killing every spice dealer in the area?"

"The Dark Side needs to be fed."

His master smiled then. "Indeed. I only question the quality of your targets."

A new headline began scrolling. This was unrelated to his nighttime adventure, and instead mentioned a newly announced tour by a popular band. It was enough to cause his master to switch it off and wave a hand in dismissal.

"Please. Do not make a habit of this."

"Yes, Master."

There were more important things to do, as his master suggested, but right now, all Vader wanted to do was check on his son. They had not spent any significant time together since he had returned, and that was the first thing the health department brochure had mentioned. Keeping the lines of communication open through quality time.

He also needed to rest, but that could wait.

There was no sense of his son's presence when he arrived outside his bedroom door. For a moment, he wondered if he had the days mixed up and he'd gone to school, but a quick check of the room revealed an open school bag lying on the floor, a datapad falling out of it. Vader picked it up with the Force, deciding it wouldn't hurt to check what was inside. Yesterday's half eaten lunch. A piece of fruit that had gone soft. Random pieces of wire and a spare multi tool.

Next to it was his soiled clothing, which had made it about a meter short of the laundry chute. He picked it up, intending to put it where it belonged, when he caught a whiff of something that made him hesitate. He was all too familiar with that particular scent, having been exposed to it throughout most of the night. He drew it closer to the mask, making sure he was not mistaken. No, it definitely stunk of spice.

He stretched out with the Force, searching for his son's presence. It was immediately clear he was not in the building. His son had made no mention of going anywhere today. After pacing in the boy's bedroom for a moment, his mind proposing several increasingly ridiculous actions in response to this development, the correct choice soon made itself known. It was time to call in some backup.

An assistant answered his call immediately. Good. The scent of that clothing had eradicated what little patience he had left on no rest.

"Luke has left the palace," he said. "I suspect he may be in danger. I need him found and retrieved immediately."

"Right away, sir," the assistant said. "We will update you as soon as there is progress."

Vader disconnected the call and stared out the window. This was for the best. If he was merely playing hologames with his friend or at the local mall, then there was no harm done. Perhaps Luke had merely stood beside someone using spice, and was unaware the scent had infiltrated his clothing. But if there was a far worse explanation … he wasn't entirely sure he could keep his promise to the Emperor.

Something was wrong in the lower levels. Everywhere Luke looked, there were windows and doors boarded up, and people hurrying away with their heads down. It was eerily quiet, and every so often, a roving security droid would fly past, causing the few remaining people to duck into alleyways.

Artoo made the odd nervous whistle as they walked down the pedestrian path that led to Seagee's garage. Luke paused to glance at the bar. All the lights were off, and there was no sign of life. At least until a rat scurried across the back steps and into one of the dumpsters.

"Maybe they just don't open on a weekend morning," Luke said, thinking out loud.

"I rather think something bad has happened, Master Luke," Threepio said. Artoo whistled in agreement. "This neighborhood seems … terrified."

"Well, Seagee said to pick it up today, so …" Luke trailed off as they approached Seagee's door. It was shut. He'd never seen it shut before.

Artoo extended his scanner, and then beeped in a positive way.

"He is inside, Master Luke. Perhaps we should knock?"

"Good idea," Luke said, banging on the door. Eventually, there were a few creaks inside, and then he heard RT whistle.

"It's me!" Luke called. "Luke!"

Finally, the door opened a crack, and he heard Seagee's voice.

"Come in! Quickly!"

Luke did so, followed closely by the droids. The reception area had been almost entirely cleared, with all Seagee's belongings stacked up in boxes. RT the astromech was busy packing up the last of the tools.

"Are you going somewhere?" Luke asked, looking around.

Seagee nodded, while gesturing for him to hurry.

"Come on through. Your speeder is here. Best to take it immediately."

As soon as Luke laid eyes on it, all unease he felt vanished.

He had been expecting to have his overblown expectations of what the Resh series five could look like with a fresh coat of paint diminished by reality. But instead, he found they were exceeded. He was unable to move for a moment, as he simply took in the shiny yellow panels and silver highlights. Then he slowly walked around the casing, noticing how the light played across the smooth, aerodynamic lines. Artoo gave a low whistle of appreciation, while Luke just shook his head, feeling a rise of emotion that made him want to cry.

"Seagee, it's beautiful," he said. "Perfect."

"It turned out well," he agreed, tapping the fender. "Beautiful machine. It looks fresh off the assembly line."

"I … I don't even know how to thank you."

Seagee waved a hand in a dismissive way, and then said, "Do you want to hop in? Get your droid to take a holo of you sitting in it. You can put it in one of those holo-card things for your father."

Luke smiled. "He's not really the kind of father you give a card to."

"Trust me, kid. I would give anything to have a nice holo of my son."

Luke nodded, opening the pilot's side door. He rested one arm on the side, and another on the controls, and then smiled while Artoo recorded some holos. Then he glanced up.

"Wait. You have a son?"

Seagee nodded. "I did. He … was killed. A long time ago now." He turned away. "And I could well go the same way if I don't get a move on, so let's wrap this up."

"What happened?" Luke asked, as he climbed out of the speeder. "It looks like half the neighborhood has left."

"Not left. Dead. I can't even get a clear story about what happened, but anyone working up on the surface last night was killed by some maniac." He gestured towards the garage door. "That laundromat opposite run by that Ithorian family … boy's father didn't come home last night. I helped his mother escape with the kid this morning."

"That's terrible," Luke said, shuddering. "And they don't know who the killer is?"

"No, and the surface dwellers are all celebrating this, so it wouldn't surprise me if it was officially sanctioned."

"They didn't even get a description?"

"The one witness I spoke to said it was like the ghost of death itself. Be careful, kid. I think you should go home as soon as possible. Don't come down here again."

"But … where will you go?"

Before Seagee could answer, the loud bang of a fist on the garage door sounded outside. Luke jumped back, having a strong sense that something wasn't quite right. There was some … danger.

"Open up in there!" came the unmistakable electronic voice of a stormtrooper. "In the name of the Empire!"

Seagee swore in several languages and rushed to grab a metal case on the work desk. He was about to escape out the back door when it burst open, and two stormtroopers entered, blasters raised.

"Hands up!"

There was another loud bang on the other side of the garage, and Luke whirled around. Two more stormtroopers entered through the reception. As soon as one of them spotted Luke, he pointed and shouted.

"Commander, there he is!"

Luke didn't know whether to run or put his hands up, but he didn't get a chance. RT screeched as the troopers turned Seagee around and put binders on him. One stood in front of him, pointing a blaster at his chest, and said, "You are under arrest."

"No, leave him alone!" Luke said, walking forward. "What is this about?"

He received no reply to his question. A trooper came forward and tried to prevent him from getting closer to Seagee, causing him to push back roughly.

"No, this isn't right! He hasn't done anything!" Luke tried to dodge around, but the trooper beside him held him by the arm, gripping just enough to hold him back.

Then, he quietly said some words that made Luke slump in realization.

"Your father is looking for you."

Failure. A feeling that was not unfamiliar to Vader, as it had happened many times before, and always remained a source of anger and frustration for a long time after the fact. But somehow it always felt so much worse when it came to his job as Luke's father. Once again, he had fallen short.

It was only twenty minutes ago that he had received the calm and businesslike comlink call from the stormtrooper commander, informing him as to his son's whereabouts. The words 'lower levels' were all he needed to hear. There was never an innocent reason why any boy of Luke's age would be in the lower levels. He knew this well from the many times he had visited them when he was Luke's age.

It took all his willpower to stop his thoughts from spiraling into catastrophic scenarios. No matter how bad this was, it wasn't unfixable. If he had somehow missed the spice dealer who had dared prey on his son, that could easily be rectified. He had already made an example of the others operating in the area. Luke's doctor would know how to treat his addiction. But first, he had to question his son to determine how serious this was. It could have been going on for months.

The hum of a speeder entering the hangar caused him to turn at the top of his pacing circuit and change direction. His son was seated in the back seat, between two stormtroopers, and his poor mood was radiating in the Force as he approached. No matter. His mood was not at its best, either.

The stormtroopers could clearly sense this. As soon as they stepped out of the speeder, he gestured at the exit and simply said, "Leave us." They hurried away, and Luke started to walk in the other direction, towards the workrooms. It only took a brief tug from the Force to bring him back in line, although it caused a burst of anger.

"Stop it!" Luke snapped. "It's bad enough you sent stormtroopers after me! Why didn't you just use my comlink if you wanted me to come home?!"

"Don't use that tone with me!" Vader said, pointing at Luke. "Tell me where you were."

"None of your business!"

Luke made to walk off again, and Vader found himself clenching both fists, struggling to keep his temper. Couldn't the boy sense he was in no mood for this?

He walked forward and placed himself in front of his son, blocking his path to the workroom.

"You were in the lower levels. Why?"

"Why do you care? I'm here now."

Vader took a slow breath, and then spoke slowly, letting some of his frustration enter his tone. "Do you want me to lose my temper?" Another slow breath. "Neither of us will enjoy that, Son."

Luke finally seemed to realize he was on loose sand. His eyes widened, and he raised his hands in front of him.

"I was just visiting a speeder place!"

He couldn't sense any lies, but this was clearly not the full story.

"What for?"

"To learn more about speeders."

"Lies."

Luke folded his arms, looking aside. Vader was about to demand the truth, when Luke mumbled, "I was working there."

"Working?"

"Yes. I was helping work on speeders and droids."

This was true. For a moment, Vader allowed himself to believe this had all been a misunderstanding, and Luke had merely found a way to earn extra credits to spend at the mall. But rational thought prevented this. Why would Luke have been secretive if it was so innocent?

"Why did you need credits?"

Luke didn't answer, and Vader realized this could go on until sundown. He reached out to turn him back towards the line of parked speeders.

"Come. We will go to your doctor."

Luke shook his hand off and turned back to face him. "My doctor? Why?"

"Because you have a problem."

"A problem?! I'm fine!"

"You are belligerent, secretive, and behaving with suspicion. You are clearly abusing spice."

"Spice … what?" Luke stared around in confusion, and then shook his head in disbelief. "You think I was buying spice down there?! Is that what this is about?"

Vader stared at his son, sensing his genuine confusion.

Luke put his hands on his hips. "This is why you were acting so weird yesterday too! I can't believe this!"

"If your activities in the lower levels were so innocent, then why won't you tell me what you were really doing?"

"Because it was a surprise!" Luke said, his voice breaking with emotion. "For you! It's Parent's Day tomorrow."

"What day?"

Luke didn't respond.

The revelation that all his troubling thoughts, his entire midnight killing spree, and all his feelings of failure had merely been brought about by another silly occasion was the final straw. He needed the dueling room, and he needed it now. But first, there was something that had to be made clear to his offspring. He raised his hand to point at him again, and Luke lifted his head in response.

"I thought I made my feelings clear on stupid days invented to sell things. Do not insult me with sentimental gifts. And never go to the lower levels again. You know the rules. I will not tolerate disobedience from you."

Luke actually teared up at his words, although his tone had not been harsh. At least, he didn't think it had been, but the reaction of the boy said otherwise. He rushed off towards the elevators, radiating embarrassment at his emotional reaction.

Vader released another slow breath, pushing back on pointless feelings of guilt. This was a necessary step in their relationship. It was a hard lesson, but one that needed to be learned. By tomorrow, this would all be forgotten.

Luke didn't emerge from his room all afternoon, and Vader was in no mood for attempting to mend their relationship. Spending a few hours in the dueling room, destroying multiple droids, had helped center his focus. Now it was time he made a start on the mounting pile of work that had been neglected while he was worried about his son. He needed to remember the events of this day next time he found himself distracted by parenthood.

It took well into the evening before he had caught up on all his messages, the most important of which was a message from ISB detailing a background report into the leader of a negotiation group representing a military grade weapons manufacturer. They were in league with a senior member of the military supply management chain, and the corruption had cost the Empire a significant amount of money.

The commander who had sent this on to him knew he liked to make examples of such people and noted they were both due to meet at the senate tomorrow. The idea of a lobbyist arriving to meet with a corrupt official, and instead finding him in the room did appeal. It wasn't often he had time or opportunity for such things since Luke had arrived in his life.

Early the following morning, the Emperor gave his approval for the execution of everyone involved, and Vader was deep in thought as to how to make the reveal as terrifying as possible. Sending a droid to direct the man to one of the basement meeting rooms would be ideal. Executing the supply chain official first, and then the lobbyist arriving in the room to find the body on the floor would generate the type of fear the Dark Side thrived on.

His attention was so fully occupied by the promise of the scenario, it wasn't until he was almost beside his speeder that he found himself staring at a vehicle that was unfit to be seen in a hangar at the Imperial Palace, never mind actually flown to the senate. The shiny black finish was now covered in pink spray paint, forming the words 'I hate you' written over and over, covering the doors, the back engine covers, the streamlined front plates. Even the windshield wasn't spared. There were places where the perpetrator of this vandalism had been so frenzied in their task, the paint had been smeared on the floor. The pilot door swung open, revealing the interior had not been excluded either. Whatever had been planned in here had clearly gone awry, as incoherent letters crossed over and bunched up in the corners of the seats. But the word 'hate' was clear, sprayed across the main controls in bright pink.

There was no question as to who had done this. Luke's presence hung about, so strong he could even still sense the boy's mood when he had carried this out. Pain. Even the echo of it halted his anger in its tracks. Pain. Hate. Pain. Hate. Hate you.

He turned away, the sight becoming too disturbing. The sensation didn't go away, however.

Hate. Pain. Misery.

The sound of the droids was a welcome distraction.

"Now, be careful, Artoo!"

Artoo screeched an insult in response, causing Threepio to complain about his rudeness. Vader walked across the hangar and around the front of a shuttle, finally coming within visual range of the droids. Artoo was busy pulling a drop sheet over a vehicle with his grasping claw, while Threepio held up the sheet at the back to ensure it fell smoothly.

The sight of him caused Threepio to drop the cover, and Artoo screeched louder. The corner of the vehicle was now revealed, poking through the gap in the sheet. It was bright yellow.

"What are you doing?" Vader asked.

Artoo beeped and whistled, rocking back and forth. It's your present from Luke.

"Yes, we wanted to let Master Luke reveal the surprise," Threepio said. "He did work so hard on this."

"I have no interest in gifts," Vader said, pointing at Threepio. "You will return this to wherever it came from immediately or I will destroy it. As for Luke … he will be spending the day cleaning up the mess he made. Artoo—you will find him and tell him to come here immediately."

What mess? Artoo whistled.

"The mess he made of my speeder."

Artoo rolled around him to see what he meant, and then screeched in horror.

"Oh dear," Threepio said, coming to join him.

"I believe I gave you an order," Vader said, causing Threepio to quickly move back to the "present". He pointed at Artoo. "And you."

Artoo only rocked back and forth, whistling a series of accusations. The only one that made sense to him was an annoyed, What did you say to him?

"I am in no mood to argue with you, droid. Go and find Luke."

No! Artoo insisted. I have to repair this!

The phrasing caused Vader to hesitate. The pause was enough for Artoo to roll back over to the hidden vehicle, grabbing the sheet in his pincer. He dragged off the cover, revealing a sight below that caused another tremor in the Force. Luke's presence again hung about this beautifully restored classic Sorosuub, but there was no pain now. Joy. Excitement. Anticipation.

The colors were exactly the type of thing he'd have chosen at Luke's age. Bright and vibrant, just like his son. Brimming with energy.

He came closer, reaching out to touch the top panel, noting the extra work done on the interior. But … none of this made sense.

"Where did Luke obtain the funds to buy this speeder?"

It's the old Sorosuub Resh you found in that junkyard near the Zewe asteroid belt, Artoo explained. Luke had it restored.

"By whom?" It was the work of a true professional.

His name is Seagee. Luke is upset because you had him arrested and he's being held by ISB.

"It does look very nice, sir," Threepio said. "I'm sure you would agree it would be a shame to destroy it. And perhaps you could … have Master Seagee released? He was kind to Master Luke."

Has the speeder fixed your relationship with Luke? Artoo enquired. You are important to him and I want him to be happy. Will you accept his gift now and release his friend?

Vader stared at the ceiling, trying to understand what wrong decision had led to this ridiculous situation. He should be at the senate right now, executing corrupt traitors. Instead, he was being pulled back into the never-ending confusion and disorder that were his feeble attempts at parenthood. And he was being emotionally manipulated by his own droids.

He looked back down at the speeder, again sensing the joy Luke had felt when he had last touched this machine. Luke … whose joy had been turned into pain and misery. Now his son had something to say to him, and he needed to listen.

"You cannot fix this, Artoo," Vader admitted. "Nor can this speeder. Only I can do that."

Artoo whistled a question that needed no translation.

"Wait here," Vader said, turning for the elevators.

This was the absolute worst thing he'd ever done. Luke knew that beyond a shadow of doubt. His emotions were swinging wildly, ranging from elation that he'd dared do such a thing, and terror at the thought of what might happen when his father discovered it. And maybe … maybe just a small amount of guilt. What kind of son hated his own father, after all? On Parent's Day?

But it couldn't be fixed. It couldn't just be painted over, like an old speeder. None of this would have even happened if he hadn't tried to go all out and impress his father with the perfect Parent's Day gift. It all seemed so stupid now. Stupid and childish. And somehow he'd ended up hiding in a place that also felt stupid and childish. The top shelf in the conservatory, behind the Naboo swamp fern and the Ryloth moon flowers. But he could be alone here.

At least, that was the idea. His father clearly had a different one, as barely half an hour had passed before he felt his presence outside the door. And, in some bizarre twist of fate, he didn't even seem angry.

Luke shuffled further behind the fern as the doors opened, keeping as still as possible. It made no difference. His father walked straight towards his location, and then stopped in the middle of the floor, folding his arms and looking directly up at him. Luke couldn't meet his gaze.

"So," his father said, in an even tone. "You hate me."

The words made the guilt increase tenfold. Luke wrapped his arms around his knees, and pressed his forehead against them, wishing he could disappear.

Receiving no response, his father added, "It is understandable. Hatred is a natural and powerful emotion. You could, however, choose to leave a message on my comlink rather than vandalise my speeder."

Luke sniffed, feeling tears fill his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. He reached up to wipe the tears, and then felt an overwhelming need to set the record straight. "I don't really hate you."

"Are you sure?"

"You're my father."

"Irrelevant."

"I don't hate you! I just … I was angry."

"Because you wish I would act like your friend's parents? That you would give me a Parent's Day gift, and we would embrace while birds sang and music played?"

Luke couldn't help but roll his eyes, despite the tears. "I don't expect you to have a personality transplant! But … but it would have been nice if you didn't get angry with me when I put so much effort into getting you a present."

"I wasn't angry with you. I thought you had fallen prey to a drug habit. I was angry at the idea of you being harmed."

"As if that would happen! I get teased at school for my innocence."

"Luke … I know you have your dreams about what having a father should be like. But your dream father does not exist. There is only me, and the sooner you accept this disappointment, the happier you will be. I worry about you far more than is rational. That worry may manifest as anger. Sometimes I will reach the wrong conclusions, and say things I regret. I do not require gifts or gratitude for my ongoing struggle to be your father."

Luke tilted his head to one side, trying to understand this. "Wait, so … that's why you were mad about the Parent's Day gift? Because you think you don't deserve one because you're not good at being a father?"

His father didn't confirm this, but Luke didn't need him to. He shuffled out from behind the plant, and swung his legs around so he was sitting properly on the shelf. It was a lot easier to talk to his father when he was looking down at him, instead of the usual situation where he was staring up.

"It's our first Parent's Day. And we've come so far since I first moved in. You've tried hard to be a father to me and I know it's not easy for you. This was my way of trying to say thank you." Luke sighed. "The droids brought it back after the stormtroopers arrested the guy who restored it. But I told them to take it to the dump, so it's probably been stolen by now. I wanted to surprise you with it by hiding it under a sheet, but now I can't even give you another chance to react properly."

His father breathed for a few cycles, and then said, "Fortunately, the droids do not always do what they are told."

Luke felt a rush of hope. "You mean … it's in the hangar? You've seen it?"

"I do like your choice of color scheme."

"You do?! Everyone told me you'd prefer it black, but I knew yellow was the right choice! It's amazing! It turned out much better than I expected."

"It is … impressive."

Luke jumped down, landing on the floor beside his father.

"So … maybe you could … have the guy who painted it released from prison? He's a good guy and this wasn't his fault. I promised his droid I'd find a way to get him released. Then … maybe we could go for a flight in it? And maybe you could let me have a turn at the controls?"

His father reached out, placing his hands gently on his shoulders. "Young one, you will be spending the day cleaning your other gift off my speeder. I am needed at the senate, and I don't believe a bright yellow Sorosuub Resh will present the image I require for that visit."

Luke looked down, mumbling an agreement.

"Then I will visit ISB and have your speeder artist released. When I return, then we will spend some time together doing something more interesting."

Luke grinned. "Okay! Just tell Seagee I'm sorry about all this, will ya?" He started to rush off, eager to get this cleaning job finished as soon as possible, but he stopped at the door, glancing back.

"You're a better father than you think you are."

He disappeared through the door before his father could argue.

As was typical for his life since Luke had arrived, the best laid plans meant very little. By the time Vader arrived at the senate, the lobbyist and the corrupt official were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they too had been delayed by Parent's Day celebrations, or perhaps they had merely decided on a different day for their little transaction. No matter. The needs of the Empire could wait until tomorrow.

Luke's needs were far more complex. When he landed in the hangar bay at ISB, he found himself remaining in the pilot's seat, staring blankly out the windshield. Luke was right. They had come a long way. The person he was when he'd first found himself struggling to explain to Luke that he was his father was ignorant and arrogant about the challenges of parenthood.

Now he knew just how much he still had to learn. And somehow, learning and growing as a father was infinitely more satisfying than he ever imagined it could be. Luke was the one who deserved a gift for being so patient and accepting as he worked through so many, many mistakes.

It would require the help of an assistant to arrange the gift he had in mind, and he wasn't sure what was worse … the palace staff knowing he had become so sentimental about his son he wanted to arrange a Parent's Day surprise for him. Or that he was so neglectful of the boy that it took until after midday for him to even think about what would be an appropriate gift to mark the occasion.

But if he had learned nothing else about parenting in the last several months, it was this: it was pointless to concern yourself with what other people might think. No one else was attempting to be a Sith Lord and rule a galactic Empire while also trying to be a parent to a high-spirited twelve-year-old boy. And no one else was the father of Luke Skywalker.

The ISB detention center was a grim place. The corridors were lined with cells holding high-profile prisoners, many awaiting a visit from the Empire's most skilled interrogators. The person of concern to him today had been assigned to a recent recruit, and she passed him a datapad with a transcript of the initial questioning as she led him to the man's cell.

"He was cooperative, sir. Everything he told me corresponded with our background checks. He was a member of an Outer Rim pirate gang until about twenty years ago, when he retired after his son was killed in a law-enforcement raid. He's been living illegally on Coruscant since. Small-time spice dealing, repainting stolen speeders, but also legitimate repair and restoration work. It appears he's gaining a reputation among classic speeder collectors for his skilled restoration work."

Vader read down the transcript, seeing she had asked him if he was aware it was illegal to enter into financial contracts with minors, and if he was aware the minor in this case was Lord Vader's son. The answer was unsurprising.

Prisoner GH-678833: The kid never mentioned who his father was. Just said he travelled for work and was away from Coruscant. I never figured he was … he didn't seem like that type. He was skilled with his hands, uncommon among wealthy surface dwellers.

Lieutenant Ilagro: Did you offer him spice?

Prisoner GH-678833: No. No. He was just a kid. Maybe I shouldn't have taken the job, but he said it was a Parent's Day gift. (long pause) I'm getting sentimental in my old age. Seems that can get you killed around here, just like in the Outer Rim.

He could only release a weary breath at the knowledge that this officer, and likely all her colleagues too, were now aware his son had arranged a Parent's Day gift, as if he was a father from a HoloNet sitcom, and not a terrifying Sith Lord. His reputation would be further damaged when he gave the order to release him. But first he had to be sure.

"Leave us," Vader said, reaching up to open the cell door. He returned the datapad to the officer, and she nodded and walked away.

Inside, the older Weequay man was resting on the bench, but he stood up and backed into a corner at the sight of him. He had a poorly fitted artificial leg, mostly hidden by the prison coverall.

"It is fortunate we didn't cross paths last night, Pirate," Vader said, pointing at the man. "I killed many like you. Do you know why?"

After a moment of silent staring, his fear palpable in the Force, the man shook his head.

"Because if any harm should ever befall my son, this planet could not contain my anger."

"I didn't hurt the kid, I一"

"I know. You would not be alive if you had. My son has asked for your release, and so it will be done. I suggest you restrict yourself to legal business from now on."

This caused an immediate change in his expression. "Uh … sure, you've got yourself a deal."

Vader turned to leave. He was half out the door when the Weequay spoke again.

"Sir?"

Vader looked back.

"Your son … does he know how much you care about him?"

Vader merely stared back, wondering if this man understood how fortunate he was not to be dead right now. Clearly, for all his talent in speeder restoration, he was a few gears short of a working engine.

"I never told my own son. And now … I can't. Just something to … keep in mind. Sir."

Vader held his gaze for a moment, finding himself wishing he could explain why it wasn't so simple. It was already too late for him to ever be able to express such things to Luke, and the reason why was a far bigger obstacle than death. But there was only one other person who understood the hold of the Dark Side of the Force, and he had no tolerance for such sentiments.

He turned and left the cell without another word.

Luke brought his arm up to his eyes, feeling groggy as an incoherent dream faded away. The setting sun was shining right through the hangar bay entrance and irritating his eyes. Once he sat up, he saw a familiar shape down on the floor, its darkness unaffected by the orange glow. His father had the hood up on the restored Sorosuub Resh and a socket wrench in his hand. Artoo and Threepio rested nearby.

As memories flooded back, Luke couldn't move fast enough to leave the TIE fighter cockpit and go and join him. He'd left his boots at the bottom of the ladder, but didn't have the patience to put them on, so merely picked them up and then skidded across the floor to his father's side.

"You should have woken me!"

"You appeared to need the rest."

"Did you get Seagee released from prison?"

"I did."

"Did he seem okay?"

"He was not damaged in any way."

Luke leaned over the side of the open engine, trying to see what his father had done. "Are you making it faster?"

"Perhaps. We will need to test it and see."

"Now?!"

"You need to eat first. And dress appropriately."

Luke glanced down at his paint-stained coveralls and sighed. "Okay. Just … don't leave without me!"

"There is no chance of that."

To be on the safe side, Luke arranged to have his dinner delivered to the hangar, and it was waiting for him by the time he returned, now in neater clothes. He sat cross-legged on top of a crate with the tray, watching his father as he continued to work on the Sorosuub engine.

"So how did you learn everything you know about speeder engines?" Luke asked, pushing aside some salad. "I wish I knew half as much as you."

"By eating my vegetables," his father said.

For a second, Luke thought he was serious, and then he rolled his eyes. But he began to eat the salad, realizing he probably wouldn't let him in the speeder until he'd cleaned up the plate.

"Can we fly to the industrial district? Wait … can we fly around the entire planet? Or at least further than I've ever been."

His father didn't respond to that. He seemed absorbed in the engine for the moment, so Luke concentrated on eating, until the plate was entirely clean and a service droid had arrived to take it away. Then, finally, his father shut the hood and gestured to the passenger seat. Luke dived over the pilot's side door, and then rolled into position, doing up his seat restraints at the same time. His father joined him a moment later and checked to make sure he was secure.

Then he revved the engine and shot out of the hangar at full speed, causing Luke to whoop with joy.

"What did you do? It's so fast."

"The Resh series was always designed for speed," his father said, entering a traffic lane and immediately overtaking the slower traffic. "I merely improved it."

He soon turned off the lane, and then they streamed out towards the industrial district, where there were few other speeders to get in the way. This really was the greatest feeling in the galaxy. Luke could only lean back and enjoy it.

"Listen to the engine," his father remarked, as he took it through a couple of sideways turns. "The stabilizers need tuning."

"Can you show me how when we go back?"

"Perhaps next week." His father turned the speeder around then, heading back to the traffic lanes. "I have a surprise for you."

"For me? What kind of surprise?"

"You will see."

Luke sat up straighter. "A good surprise?"

"I am not answering questions on the subject at this time." His father accelerated into a lane, and Luke noted they were flying out of the government blocks, and to the area of Coruscant that had a lot of tourist attractions and entertainment facilities.

"You know, Parent's Day is supposed to be about gifts for you, not me."

"Don't remind me."

Luke smiled, and then frowned when his father took a turn that led to a restaurant strip. He did appreciate the thought, but eating in public with his father could be … challenging. The general reaction of people to his father's presence probably wasn't what they intended when they went to eat out at a Coruscant restaurant.

But the speeder flew past the strip, and then took a turn towards a building with sparkling blue neon lights and projected images of speeders above it.

"A speeder museum?!" Luke said, excited. "I've never been to one!"

"I thought as much," his father said, bringing the speeder in to land in the covered parking bay.

Luke began to undo his seat restraints, and then hesitated, looking around at the completely empty space. "There's no one else here! Are you sure it's still open?"

"I arranged to have the facility closed for a private viewing." He shut off the engine, and then turned in the seat to look at him. "I know this is … unusual."

"Hey, unusual is the usual for us," Luke said, grinning.

"Indeed."

They were met at the entrance by the senior guide at the Coruscant museum of flying transportation, a young Quarren woman with an annoyingly friendly manner and far too much enthusiasm. Luke responded well to this, fascinated and curious to learn about the history of the speeder. He stared with fascination as they walked through the immersive galleries, surrounded by colorful speeders of all shapes and sizes. Every minute or so, he would see something of particular interest and turn to him with shining eyes, urging him to "Look!"

It took longer than expected to complete the tour, mostly due to Luke's endless questions and eagerness to play with all the interactive displays designed to teach younger children about engines and flight. When they finally reached the epic conclusion of the exhibit, a fully drivable five-hundred year old combined wheel-and-wing vehicle, the guide presented Luke with a gift pack full of complimentary souvenirs, including a t-shirt and a model Sorosuub.

"Thank you so much," Luke said. "This was amazing! I will come back with a friend sometime."

"Please, do! Anytime," the guide said, showing them the corridor back through to the parking bay. "It's been a pleasure."

She glanced between them for a moment, obviously wondering how it was possible they were related. Vader had not spoken a word the entire time. Luke raised this fact when they were in the privacy of the speeder, and after he had secured the souvenirs carefully in the back.

"You were quiet. Did you enjoy it?"

Vader had to consider his answer as he started the engine.

"I enjoyed your reaction," he admitted.

Luke sighed, and then said, "Thank you. I loved it. I know what you were trying to do. Be a normal father for me and do something other fathers and sons might do on Parent's Day. But you don't have to be a normal father. You can just be you. I'm not so normal myself."

"You have a unique insight, my son."

Luke smiled.

After a moment of silence, Vader found himself speaking again. "You will only be young for a short space of time. Adult life is difficult. It is full of misunderstanding and failures, as I have well demonstrated this week. I want to be sure you have a chance to experience some normality in this time of your life. So when you are an adult, you can remember a time when life was not so difficult."

"Uh huh," Luke said, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds depressing!"

"I did not intend it that way."

"When I'm an adult, I'm going to have fun all the time."

Luke began elaborating on what this would involve—owning an entire fleet of fast speeders with custom paint jobs, flying all over the galaxy, not having to eat vegetables if he didn't feel like it. Vader listened for a while, and then tuned out as it became increasingly outlandish. It was good that his son was still young enough to dream about such things and imagine they would come true. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was really doing the right thing by Luke by raising him himself.

Then, Luke added, "I'd come home to visit of course. When I'm not flying places."

"So I would still see you occasionally?"

"Of course." Luke nudged him as they flew towards the palace. "I'd come back for Parent's Day."

"You will have to remind me every year when it is. I am likely to forget."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you remember."

Ten years later …

It was a relief to find the memorial empty. It was a dull day in Theed, frequent showers between odd cloudy breaks, and there were only a few people mingling around the fountains. Luke took a seat on the bench in front of the garden where his father's ashes had been scattered some years earlier, feeling a deep sense of the Force about this place. Behind him, in the beautiful structure of marble, his mother lay, forever at rest. On a fine day, there might be Naboo citizens approaching the memorial, leaving flowers, and telling their children about who she was. But today, there was only a peaceful silence.

He closed his eyes, attempting to meditate to the sound of the gentle lap of the water in the pond. But his thoughts were too unfocused.

"It's Parent's Day," he admitted, opening his eyes. "I … I can barely focus on anything."

A breeze ruffled his hood, and he looked down, seeing the grass ripple at his feet. A strange feeling of familiarity came over him, and he felt his father's presence in the Force, carried on the breeze. It brushed through the flower beds, across the pond water, and then came to rest beside him, where it manifested into his Jedi form.

"Parent's Day?" he said. "You know you're supposed to remind me about that."

"I've been busy," Luke admitted, focusing on the water. "You were right about adult life. It's … not easy."

His father reached out with a blue, glowing hand, and Luke felt the sense of his Force presence become stronger when he 'touched' his arm. There was so much love behind the feeling, it caused the tears that had been threatening all day to fill his eyes.

"I miss you, Dad. Everywhere I look, I see people who still have their parents, and I … I feel jealous. But I know I shouldn't. That isn't the Jedi way."

"It's only natural to have those feelings. Don't be so hard on yourself. Acknowledge them and understand why you're feeling that way. How much power they have over your actions is in your hands."

Luke had to wonder if his father was really here, or just a figment of his imagination, saying the very things that would make him feel better. The thought made his father chuckle.

"I'm really here, young one."

Luke shook his head. "And I didn't even get you anything," he joked.

"Good. You know I hate gifts."

"Do you remember our first Parent's Day?"

"How could I forget?"

"I found the speeder the other day. The paint job still looks good." Luke shook his head. "I realize now the colors I chose were more my taste than yours."

His father smiled. "That's why I liked it. It reminded me of you every time I saw it."

"But I wanted something you would like. You were so hard to find gifts for."

"You were enough of a gift, just by yourself." That feeling of love in the Force glowed once again. "Luke … there's something I should have told you that day."

Luke nodded. "I know. There are things I wished I'd said back then too. Somehow it was easier to write 'I hate you' a hundred times than tell you how scared I was that you would decide being a father was too much for a Sith Lord and send me away.'"

"I should have reminded you every day how loved you were. How much I cared. How desperately I wanted to be a good father to you. But your mom would tell us both we just did our best. And Obi-Wan would suggest we stop focusing on the negative."

"That's true. Maybe I need to stop focusing on missing you, and remember all the Parent's Days we did spend together. You were right. Whenever I fly past that speeder museum on Coruscant, I remember. It's a good memory." He smiled. "It was much better than the time we went to that fly-through adventure maze."

"I should never have let you nag me into doing that."

Luke grinned, turning to smile at his father. "I knew how to convince you to do things. I had a lot of practice."

"Too much."

They went back to a companionable silence, and Luke closed his eyes, enjoying the enhanced connection to the Force that flowed through the bond with his father. Naboo was so full of life. He felt … at peace. A change from the mood he'd arrived with.

After some time, he stood up.

"It's time I went back to the temple. I told Leia I needed to be alone today, and … she worries."

"It's all right. I told her I'd talk to you. But you shouldn't leave Artoo behind."

"This trip was kind of … spontaneous. He was still charging up."

"You're going to need to make it up to him."

"I'll tell him you and mom said hello. That will cheer him up."

"Yes, and Threepio too. Tell him he's doing a good job. He'll know what I mean."

His father's ghost had been fading, but then it strengthened slightly.

"I love you. Just wanted to say it again."

Luke smiled, shaking his head as he walked away. "Goodbye, Dad. Happy Parent's Day! Pass it on to mom."