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If it were up to Lord Vader, he wouldn't drag Luke to these social events. More importantly, he wouldn’t attend himself. But he spent more time than ever in Coruscant to oversee his unruly offspring, which gave his Master plenty of opportunities to wrangle him into going to parties such as this. A new assimilation of a distant planet with an abundance of minable ore were being celebrated by the Empire, and attendance was mandatory to Vader and his son.
“Will there be people my own age?” Luke asked as they docked the speeder in the VIP parking of the Imperial palace. Vader tried to get a hold of his exasperation, having just weathered an entire speeder ride of similar questions and queries. He waited for Luke to climb out before slamming his door shut far harder than necessary. A nearby attendant flinched at the sound.
“I assume so.” Vader answered. A droid ushered them in through the entrance, and Vader looked around with distaste and the gathered sycophants and politicians. He gave Luke a shove on the shoulder to a gathered crowd of what looked to be other adolescents in the far corner of the convention hall. “I must speak with Emperor. Go.”
His son shot him a resentful look at the rough treatment, but seemed to know better than to make a snide remark as he usually did. Vader watched him head through the crowd. If he could, he would let out a large sigh. Instead, he steeled himself, and made his way to the throne. The groups of people quickly cleared the way for him, but Vader secretly hoped for somebody to dare stumble into his path, just to release some of his anger. He hated events such as these. The simpering moffs were enough to raise his ire, but the flowing of wine and food made him think of times he’d rather forget.
“Lord Vader,” The Emperor greeted, looking as jovial as he could appear. He waved a hand for Vader to stand after a moment of kneeling.
“My master.” Vader intoned.
The red guard squadron around the Sith seemed to move before he stood, crooked and deceptively weak looking, gesturing to the balcony nearby. “Let us walk and enjoy the moonlight, my friend.”
Vader would much rather enjoy the sanctity of his meditation chamber, or even his bacta tank, but merely nodded his head and followed his master outside.
The Emperor’s gnarled hands wrapped around the marble banister which wrapped around the balcony. In the distance, countless speeders rushed around raised statues in his likeliness, and Imperial convoys regulated the traffic coming in from the atmosphere.
“The Delta campaign went well, my apprentice?”
“Yes, my Lord.” Vader replied, thankful to be asked about a safe topic. The Emperor’s interest in Luke only grew as the years went on, and his request for his son to attend tonight sat unwell with him.
“The rest of the sector will fall in line, I expect.” He continued after a moment. “The garrison is settled and ready for any attempts at avenging the casualties.”
“Good,” His master replied. They spoke some more about his skirmish, but Vader could feel that the conversation would inevitably return to Luke by the way the Emperor’s eyes gleamed as he stared out pensively to the city lights.
“Young Skywalker is on the cusp of adolescence,” He remarked, and though his tone was idle, Vader knew the words were calculated and probing. “Soon he will begin to seek independence and start his own path in life.”
Vader said nothing for a moment, but felt his hands grip onto the railing unwillingly. “He is still young, master.” He said. “More guidance is needed.”
The Emperor laughed.
“Of that, I have no doubt. I often hear of his escapades from the guards. Tell me, how is his wrist?”
“Unbroken.” Vader replied. “And I have banned him from wearing those infernal wheeled shoes.”
“Probably for the best.”
When he returned to the celebrations, Luke was nowhere to be seen.
At first, he assumed that he had disappeared into the palace halls, probably to cause another accident, or to harass a stormtrooper to allow him to try on their helmet and blaster, but a cursory reach into the Force revealed that Luke was elsewhere. Vader checked the refreshers, the buffet table, and even ominously hovered around the group of children, who took off with screams of terror back to their parents, but Luke was not amongst them.
He was half-inclined to check his speeder, as Luke would sometimes wait for him there when he grew bored of a party of event, but Vader’s instincts told him otherwise. He ended up following his son’s blinding force presence to an old hangar, that had mostly been renovated to hold worktops and charging serving droids. It was cold and the floor was covered in a thin layer of dust, and Vader felt his mask filtering out countless particles, indicating that something had disturbed the air recently.
“Luke,” He called out into the hangar, hearing an answering thump, and then a groan of pain. Vader followed the sound, stopping when he saw two legs sticking out from under a run-down air speeder. For a moment, he thought Luke had been demented enough with boredom that he’d attempted to fix a broken vehicle - it would not be surprising, but his pointed boots showed that Luke was laid on his stomach on the floor.
“Hi.” Luke’s disembodied voice came from beneath the speeder. “What’s up?”
“Get out from under there this instant.” Vader said. “Or I will drag you out myself.”
“Alright, alright.” Luke sighed, and Vader stepped back as his son, his black tunic absolutely covered in dust, wriggled out and stood. In one precarious hand, he gripped a plate that held several foods from the buffet table. Vader spotted an untouched glass of blue milk by the front axis of the speeder.
“What were you doing?” Vader asked in exasperation. He really could not fathom his behaviour sometimes. “You look ridiculous.”
Luke glanced down at himself, and balanced his plate on the bonnet, brushing himself down. “You won’t believe it.” He said, looking over his shoulder. His voice was low, conspiratorial, and Vader wanted to groan. He knew that tone.
“Luke,” Vader interrupted. “You cannot throw yourself under speeders that are not yours. Especially when attending an event at the Emperor’s invitation.”
“Oh,” Luke said, gesturing like he was swatting a particularly bothersome insect. “He never talks to me anyway. No, what I was going to say,” He took a deep breath, grinning. “I found a tooka cat and I almost caught him.”
A breathing cycle. And then another.
“Why would you try and catch it?” Vader asked, though it would be best not to engage with such nonsense. He eyed the plate of food and the glass of milk in realisation. “They are covered in diseases and infection.”
“But he’s so nice.” Luke said, bending down to peer under the speeder once more. “He was orange with green eyes and-”
Vader grabbed around his upper arm, dragging him back up as he tried to get back onto his knees, sending a cloud of dust back up into the air.
“It’s likely to be a feral stray.” He said, firmly pulling him further away, and closer to the exit. “Loth cats are best to be left alone, son. Now, come along. We are leaving.”
Their scuffle must have disturbed the creature, for as they left, Vader heard the quick scamper of claws across the floor. Good riddance.
He piloted Luke home in a quiet sulk, but to Vader, the evening had been a success. He still hadn’t mentally recovered from when an eight-year-old Luke had stepped backwards and pulled a ten-foot-long Imperial banner down on himself and an entire group of delegates.
Later, when Luke had huffed off to his room, presumably to complain to his droids about his unfair Father, Vader did not give the tooka in the hangar a second thought. His son certainly had no love for social events, and had simply found a new, if not eccentric, way to pass the time until it was acceptable to leave.
The first time Luke made a formal request, Vader had just stared at him for a minute of silence. Usually, his Father’s stare was enough to shoot down whatever ridiculous thing Luke had said, but Luke simply waited defiantly, his only show of nerves being his bouncing foot.
Or, more likely, impatience. If Vader had hair, he’d probably pull at it in frustration.
He had waited three days to ask his Father for a loth cat as a pet. Vader didn’t know why the request had taken him by surprise. It wasn’t uncommon, he had heard, for children to desire animal companions at his age. He vaguely remembered begging Obi-Wan to let him keep a reptile of some sort in their rooms, but he had been far younger, and had quickly changed his mind when his master had informed him that the reptile would probably attack him if allowed to roam their apartment.
“I am working.” Vader said finally. He glanced back down to his datapad, loaded with reports and fleet communications.
Luke opened his mouth to object, but Vader raised a threatening hand. “Go now, or I’ll summon a guard to escort you out.”
His son turned on his heel and marched to the door, throwing him a glare of resentment and betrayal over his shoulder. Vader took a moment to gather himself, leaning back in his seat and steepling his gloved hands. He felt rather indignant that Luke had made such an outlandish request. The thought of arming his son with a clawed and fanged animal almost made him shudder.
He sensed Luke moping down the halls to brood in his room. Vader went back to his report, diligently ignoring the sad-tinged force surrounding him. Luke had gone through several phases such as this one. Suddenly gripped by a sudden urge to have, and to have immediately. His requests had included a speeder (despite being three years too young to be considered for a license), a deck of sabacc cards, and even a pair of shoes that had ridiculous lights at the heels. At first, Vader had almost caved to the requests. The moody silent treatment, with interludes of sad and resentful glares grated on Vader’s nerves like nothing else.
In reality, his son was not spoilt. Most requests were reasonable, or he used his allowance to buy himself toys and other materialistic items to entertain himself with. Vader had heard the horror stories of Imperial children by eavesdropping on officers, who would shamefully admit that they felt blessed whenever they received a posting to deep space or the outer rim, so that they could escape the monsters that they had created. Still, it would do no good to fulfil such a ridiculous request. Such a ludicrous idea won’t be entertained.
Vader was due to leave the city soon. An insurgency was brewing on a nearby Core world, and he knew that the Emperor would send him there to neutralise the uprising before it could get out of control. All he had to do was manage Luke’s attempts to persuade him, should he try to ask again. No doubt he would conjure up a ridiculous plot to appeal to his Father.
He returned his full attention to his report. Vader would likely never hear about the matter again. Soon enough, Luke would become fixated on something else.
Despite all odds, the loth cat debate was far from over.
Debate was perhaps the wrong term. There was no deliberation or discussion. Luke would ask, Vader would say no.
Then Luke would flounce off in a sulk, refuse to speak to him for an hour, before coming back to try again.
Vader had actually considered having guards posted at his door. That evening, Luke had made three separate attempts to sway him. He had data to process from interrogations, and a maintenance review of his command ship, currently docked in orbit for repairs. He had too much to do to entertain his son’s attempts to sway him.
“No.” He said, before the jaws of his hyperbaric chamber are even fully open.
Luke seemed to know to target him when he was meditating. A foolish notion that he would me more vulnerable to his requests. If his bacta tank was here, he knew that Luke would awaken him by pressing adoption papers up against the clear plastisteel casing.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Luke cried, taking a step back as the air hissed out of the chamber. He met his Father’s eyes through the mask for several seconds imploringly.
It was almost as though his son thought he was susceptible to a begging gaze.
Vader looked away, regardless.
“I do not have time for your pitiful attempts at manipulation.” Vader said, unmoving from his meditative posture.
“I’m not trying to manipulate you! Stars, I just wanted to show you this,” Luke fumbled with a datapad he’d had hidden under his armpit, and Vader almost groaned.
“Luke,” Vader said, trying to keep his voice firm and authoritative. He had entire battalions at his heel, but one twelve-year-old boy was immune to his dominion. The Force was truly cruel to him sometimes.
“We have been over this several times. My answer is final.”
“But there’s a litter that a spacer’s trying to get rid of! Right here on Coruscant, and they’re free!” Luke said hurriedly, apparently aware that he was on borrowed time. Vader finally stood, and Luke cleared more space, holding up the datapad like a shield. “Look.”
Vader did not spare him a glance. Instead, he reached for his com-link. He was scheduled to be at ISB headquarters in a matter of minutes. He paused before leaving, turning in vexation.
Luke stared right back up at him, cheeks tinged pink with frustration. He could see the blurry hologram of a box full of loth kittens, but he paid it little attention. It was easy to forget just how young Luke truly was. How simple and narrow his view of life must be. He had no idea about the responsibility of maintaining an animal, or how quickly it would grow to be a nuisance.
Vader had had a similar naivety regarding parenthood. Prior knowledge may have led him to be less careless.
He placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“I am leaving for the day.” He announced, pouring as much parental authority into his tone as he can manage. “You would be wise to forget about this foolish idea and do something productive instead.”
“Father,” Luke groaned, pulling out the word into a whine. “You wouldn’t even know that it’s here.”
“Goodbye, Son.” Vader replied, sidestepping the oncoming well of self-pity and pre-teen sorrow.
The silence of the hangar made Vader pause as he walked down the ramp of his shuttle. He had originally meant to leave for only hours, to oversee the repairs of his flagship. But a daring attack from the rebels in a nearby sector had led to him taking out his TIE advance to aid in the understaffed cruisers. He had then stayed aboard to fix the damage done to his wing alignment, and then extended his stay after realising that the new crew, who had yet to meet their commander, had a rather lax attitude to serving the Empire, that he rectified by lurking on the bridge for two days.
When Vader was away, he usually communicated with Luke regularly. He sometimes called to ensure Luke was not out past curfew, or up after his bedtime. But his son had avoided his communications, and instead sent passive aggressive messages through the Lieutenant-Commander who had been tasked with keeping Luke in check whenever Vader was away.
He realised when he was half-way up to Luke’s bedroom that the silence could be attributed to it being a school day, although his son was due to be home. In all likelihood, he was taking advantage of his Father’s absence to play with his friends at the park or shopping centre. Instead of calling to clarify Luke’s location, Vader decided to take advantage of the hour of blessed silence by meditating. He did not dare to tempt the Force by wondering if the loth cat obsession had fizzled out during his trip off of Coruscant.
Sometime later, Vader was pulled from his light meditation to feel the bright presence of Luke entering the hallway. He waited a moment, tensing for a potential onslaught of begging now that he was back home, but no door chime sounded in the silence of his chambers. After several minutes, Vader steeled himself and stood, making his way down the hall. Light shone from beneath the door, and when he entered, his son was indeed home.
Despite surely sensing Vader in the Force, Luke looked as though an apparition had just appeared in the doorway. He had just come from the refresher, and the door slammed shut with a thud as he jammed the button.
“You’re home.”
Vader looked at his son with a newly founded suspicion. “Yes.” He answered. “What are you hiding?”
Luke’s eyes shifted around guiltily for a moment, but he simply shook his head. “Nothing. You just frightened me.”
Vader crossed his arms, and there was a stand-off for several seconds before Luke turned and headed for his bed. He threw himself down with a thump and reached for the holo-net remote. When Vader made no move to leave, Luke glanced over at him with a nonchalantly raised eyebrow.
“What’s up?”
Vader jabbed a finger at him. “You are acting very strange.”
“What?” Luke laughed, turning up the volume on the holovid. “I’m just watching the ‘net!”
Vader’s hearing receptors shot waves of pain at the loudness of the speakers. He went to speak, but the booming sonar of his mask struggled to compete with the deafening boom of the holo.
Vader looked over his son once more. He was acting oddly, but he did not seem to be hurt or upset. And there had been no more grovelling or pouting. Vader let his disrespect slide, sated that his absence had not been used to cause trouble, and returned to his chambers.
Later that night, Vader stopped mid-review of a funding request from an outer-rim research facility when he felt it. A quick flare in the force, just as quickly snuffed out, and he didn’t have to guess where it was coming from. He glanced at the chronometer. 2 in the morning. Vader closed the datapad and stood, feeling far too weary after hours of meditation. He could feel the pulsation of his son’s presence, definitely awake, and panicking. It was likely a nightmare, or a sudden realisation that he had forgotten homework or some menial project. It would not be the first time.
Vader did not bother to make himself known as he slipped through the door to Luke’s bedroom. The lights were not on, but the closet was half-open, and the built-in lights illuminated the flooring in front of it. He could see the moving shadow of his son, who had yet to notice his entrance.
“Shhh, shhh. It’s alright.” Luke was murmuring, and Vader took a step forward in concern. The answering mewl made him freeze. “I know, I know. I got your food right here. Pspspspspssp-”
“Luke!” Vader said, wondering if his lenses were malfunctioning as he stared down into the closet floor.
Luke turned in horror, bowl of milk shaking in his hand. He struggled to get up from his knees, placing the dish down and raising placating hands. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“I cannot believe,” Vader said. “That you would defy me like this. Bring it out of your closet immediately.”
“There’s no tooka!” Luke cried. “I was just-”
Vader raised a hand. “Spare me the pitiful attempt to lie. Get out here. Now.”
“Father, I promise-” Whatever Luke’s likely ridiculous promise is cut off by an orange tooka appearing from the hanging clothes and jumping into his lap.
There was silence for several seconds.
“Dad-”
“Stop.” Vader said, calming himself before he said something that he would regret. “Not another word out of you.”
The tooka, oblivious to the goings on around it, trotted over to the bowl of milk, and delicately lapped at it.
Vader stared at it for a moment in disbelief at its audacity, before grabbing it by the back of the neck with the Force.
“No!” Luke stood, almost putting his foot in the dish, and grabbed for the creature, who's whiskers dripped milk onto the carpet. “Please! I’ll look after him and feed him and take care of him!”
“Where did you even find it?” Vader asked, despite himself, turning the thing around. It’s claws were out, and it stared at him with open hostility, not unlike the way his son glared when he didn’t get his way.
He was about to take it to give to some officer to dispose of, but Luke’s cry made him pause. His son stood with tears streaming down his face, chest heaving as he tried not to sob. Vader could not make himself look at the distraught expression, knowing that it would make him cave.
“Please.” Luke tried again, voice shaking and almost making Vader wince. He turned away, but could not escape the accusing glare of the blasted tooka, floating in front of him. “I get so lonely when you’re not here. I just wanted some company.”
That hit Vader like a blaster bolt to the chest. It was true that he had to leave Luke to attend to the Emperor’s business. He had a duty to protect the galaxy, and he could hardly do that without leaving Coruscant. He forgot how young and needy his son was, how strangely attached he was to him, despite his flaws and temper.
He sighed, or tried to, around his respirator. He could feel Luke’s imploring stare, and after another moment of hearing that distraught, hitching breath, he let go of the tooka, allowing it to softly thump back onto the carpet.
“You will take full responsibility for it.” Vader said, pointing at Luke, who shuddered but nodded frantically. “You will arrange for inoculations for whatever disease it carries. It will not come to my chambers. If anything should happen to it, it is not to be replaced.”
“Yes, Father.” Luke said, wiping away his tears. He gave a shaky smile, which relieved Vader of some of the pain in his chest, and knelt to lift the tooka into his arms. It purred against him and rubbed it’s ears under his chin.
“Do not make me regret being lenient with you.” Vader said. His Master would call him weak for his decision. But, loathe as he was to admit it, the sight of his son so upset was not something Vader could handle. Luke smiled further, and the cat turned in his arms, looking almost smugly at him. It reminded him vaguely of an expression Obi-Wan used to wear.
"Are you talking to me or the tooka?"
Vader turned away and headed for the door.
"Go to bed. You have school in the morning.”