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Luke was cornered, quite literally, with his back pressed against the wall and his wide, wild eyes staring straight at the death mask that belonged to the spectre of a being who was his father. “You have nowhere left to go, son,” Vader rumbled, sending a desperate chill through him. “Cease your foolish struggles and listen to me, for once.”
Swallowing thickly, it took a moment for him to regain his composure, but Luke was able to steady his resolve well enough to snap back. “I’m not going with you,” he barked, balling his hands into fists so tight his ragged nails cut into his palms. “I – I can’t.” Neither father nor son chose to comment on the way his voice broke as the words tumbled out, which Luke would choose to deny existed in the first place, no matter what. Another fleeting moment passed, eye contact unbroken, and Luke could not help but let slip one single thought. I want to know you… But he clamped down on it and pressed on. “I refuse to join the Empire. Whatever happens here today? You will have to kill me before I join the Empire.”
In… (Kissh)… Out… (Kossh)… In… (Kissh)… Out… (Kossh)…
On that went, for ten cycles. Ten long, slow cycles passed, the two staring at one another the entire time, and just as Luke began to fidget, Vader spoke again. “I am not here to ask you to come with me, child.” Luke bristled at that, but he did not have time to protest. “I am here because I wish to come with you.”
Silence. Deafening, disbelieving silence.
(Though not pure silence. That same Kissh… Kossh… carried on incessantly, serving to make the silence even more deafening.)
“You… ahh, you what?”
“I do not believe your hearing to be damaged, boy,” Vader snapped, folding his arms across his chest.
Luke’s mouth was hanging open, and he had to actively force it shut when he realized. “I… Yeah, no, I heard you just fine. You’re right about that. I just… Stars, this must be another nightmare because there’s no way you just said – ”
“I wish to leave behind the Empire and join you and your… rebellion.” The distinct impression of disgust seemed to flash from behind the mask. “If you would have listened when we first crossed paths here, you would have learned as much without sustaining the injuries you have in this encounter.”
“You didn’t have to give them to me in the first place!” Luke protested.
His protests fell upon deaf auditory processors, and Vader barrelled on. “Foolish as the rebels are, I can no longer abide by the inane wishes of my Master.” Disgust, once again, nearly oozing out from behind the mask and radiating through the modulated tone of his voice. “He insists upon moving forth with the creation of another Death Star, he has promoted and expanded slavery throughout the galaxy, and – ” It was a rare hitch for the otherwise relentless Dark Lord, but it created a crack that revealed a heated, smouldering rage. “And he has also claimed that all beings with access to the Force are to pledge loyalty to him or die.”
Slavery or death.
Luke’s stomach sunk, Vader’s mechanical hands were balled into fists, and both father and son knew which option Luke would choose, if faced with that choice.
While he maintained disbelief at the prospect, Luke felt a flutter of hope flare within him. It was what he’d always wanted, after all. And yet… “There’s no way you can come with me, is there?” He wished the answer was no. He did not see how it could be, bit he wished… Whatever it was that lay beneath the suit could not be revealed nor exist without it, which left Luke right where he’d been at the beginning. “Everyone would know exactly who you are. After everything… It won’t be as easy as telling the Alliance you’ve defected.”
This time, it was a wave of satisfaction that crashed forth from Vader, replacing the rage that had been roiling just moments before. “Do not fear, my son. I have considered this, and I have a solution.”
“Absolutely not.”
Leia stood before him, arms crossed, her entire being unflinching. Luke was fully aware what he’d proposed was… absurd, at best, and absolutely impossible at worst. He hated the way she was looking at him, though, hated the stubbornness in her stance, hated the way he may very well have spoiled any chance at making this work.
(Han was standing to the side looking amused. Luke didn’t know if that made things better or worse. At least Chewie and the droids had remained – if not neutral – silent and stoic through this affair.)
“I know how much of a stretch this is, Leia.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I do. I promise.”
She continued glaring daggers at him, unmoved. “I don’t care who he is to you, Luke,” she hissed, “there is absolutely no way that I will forgive him for any of the atrocities he’s committed, nor do I want him among our ranks.”
“Would you rather he keeps working against us?” He’d told them the truth of their relationship. He knew that telling at least the people closest to him would be necessary if he was going to make this work. But he also knew that he could not appeal to Leia with only his relation to Vader. She was a Rebel through and through, and she would only approve if she could see the tactical value to this. “We can get an enemy on our side, I don’t think we should discount that.”
Leia was still livid, her muscles tensing and her arms constricting even tighter across her chest. She had always been an intelligent woman, though, and would concede when she knew she needed to. “Fine. If it means so much to you? Then fine. You can introduce him to the troops and deal with the fallout. Just know that I’m not about to forgive you for this any time soon, Luke Skywalker.”
He knew that. She was serious, as he always knew she was, but this may just work out, in some form, if he was persistent enough. “Trust me,” he said, only half believing himself, “this is going to work out. He has no reason to go back on his word, and we can deal with everything else once we’ve actually won this war. Just give it a chance, and if it doesn’t work out then… well, we can revisit things from there.”
Her steely expression and stance only intensified, and it seemed she would say no more on the matter, but Leia finally ground out one last “Fine” before she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Luke alone with Han’s muffled snickers.
“Hey kid,” Han said when he’d finally stopped sniggering, “I know it ain’t funny, Vader bein’ your old man and all, but this entire plan is probably crazier than anything I’ve come up with – and that’s saying something. If you can pull this off? I might just let you fly the Falcon.”
“Really?”
“No. But I will be genuinely impressed.”
“Okay everyone, I’m calling in each favour I’ve earned from you all. And even some favours I might earn in the future. It’s going to be… hard to believe, but please. Just bear with me.”
Luke fidgeted on the spot, hands wringing as he avoided eye contact with any of the rebels surrounding him. He still did not know whether or not this would work – was, in fact, certain that it would not – but he was determined to try it anyways. They had all faced numerous absurdities together anyways, what was one more? This particular absurdity was a bit more far-fetched than the others, but he had to ask for their faith anyways.
“What you’re about to see… Who you’re about to meet… Well, it’s gonna be hard to believe, at any rate.” This was stupid. So, so, so stupid. He really should have thought this through more and talked his father into waiting until they had a better plan, but unfortunately this was what they were going with, and no level of protests would change that fact. “So when you see him? Please. I mean it. Just… Bear with me. Try not to stare. Or laugh. And don’t give it away that you recognize him. Just… act casual. For me, if not for him. And then you can scream at me all you want when he’s out of earshot. Deal?”
The suspicion in the eyes of his squadron was almost enough to send him stumbling backwards as he met each of their gazes, wincing as he read their doubt. Maybe he should have listened to Leia. He and Han could’ve avoided so many near-disasters if they’d just listened to Leia.
But he’d promised his father he would try.
Sucking in a long, slow breath, he held it in his lungs for a few seconds to brace himself before sighing it out and making the introduction. “Rogues? I’d like to introduce to you my… cousin from Tatooine… Varth Dader.” Luke groaned inwardly at the name, which had been suggested in jest, but his father had agreed to it, and neither could come up with anything better. Now he was wishing they had. Or at least asked Han or Leia or Lando for suggestions.
His father walked through the door as he was introduced, clad in what he considered to be a perfectly acceptable disguise. Gone was his signature cape, replaced instead with a poncho much like the one Luke had brought with him from Tatooine. The mask remained in a slightly altered form, now adorned with a large, bushy, black moustache that curved up slightly at the ends. Finally, the pièce de résistance of the entire ensemble was the large, wide-brimmed hat that sat at the top of his helmet.
Luke was fully aware that it would fool exactly nobody. The figure that Vader cut was far too recognizable for the galaxy not to notice, and the Rebels in particular had become intimately familiar with the details of his appearance. His goal wasn’t to pass it off as a legitimate disguise, though.
What he was hoping for was to present a Vader to the Alliance who was willing to put in an effort to get them to work with him – even an unsuccessful one – and to illustrate his dedication to his defection. Marching in with the Emperor’s Attack Dog in tow and expecting everyone who had been attacked by or lost loved ones to him to just accept his presence was foolish. Hoping desperately that they might go along with something this absurd was really the only choice he had.
“I am looking forward to working with you to dismantle the glorious might of the Empire in our impossible battle against their superior fleets and military.”
Luke winced. Not even the vocoder had been modified. “He’s… from a part of Tatooine that really only got the Imperial Propaganda channels, so you’ll have to be patient with him if he says things like that.”
A shocked silence settled over the squadron, each pilot searching for a reaction and coming up short. Luke shifted back and forth on his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck and avoiding the stunned gazes of his squadmates, but the awkward uncertainty was cut mercifully short by Wedge, who bounded forward and extended his hand.
“Wedge Antilles, Rogue Leader, since hotshot here took his leave of absence,” he declared, nudging his shoulder in Luke’s direction. “He’s had other stuff to take charge of, so I took over for him, like the pal I am – but I’m sure you know all about that, since he’s your cousin and all.” Luke did not miss the shade of a wink that flashed across Wedge’s face. “It is a pleasure to meet you, though, Mr. Dader – or can I call you Varth?”
His father turned his helmet to face Luke, questioning him as to the correct response, and all he could offer in return was a look of resignation and a minute shrug.
“I have yet to obtain a rank. When I do, that will be appropriate. But for the time being… Simply Dader shall be acceptable.”
Wedge grinned. “Dader it is!”
The rest of the Rogues relaxed a touch, following Wedge’s lead as they began to swarm around Vader and , and Luke breathed a sigh of relief. As the others began to crowd around and introduce themselves, Luke took a step back and continued in his attempts to convince himself that this was a good idea.
He definitely did not miss the significant look Wedge was shooting in his direction, hinting at a conversation to follow later that evening.
“I don’t understand how you’re all missing this. That is Darth Vader, and if we don’t do something about it, he’s going to kill us all!”
“C’mon, Doug, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Yeah, you think Vader would ever be caught dead in a poncho? He’s known for his cape, there’s no way he’d dress like that.”
“Yeah, and he’d never wear a hat like that.”
“Besides, Vader doesn’t have a moustache, everyone knows that.”
“But the mask – ”
“He needs that to breathe, Doug, don’t be insensitive.”
“Yeah, and he’s been in an accident that left him disfigured, it’s his choice to cover it up as he sees fit.”
“But – how do you all not see – ”
“You sound like a real jerk right now, Doug.”
“Yeah, just let it go.”
“Seriously, what’s Varth ever done to you?”
Most of the Alliance had decided to go along with the ploy, much to Luke’s relief, though he would still, from time to time, anxiously stand by and listen for any active protests against his father’s new position.
The Emperor had not declared Vader missing or a traitor, only that his lack of appearances stemmed from a lengthy mission on the border between the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions. It seemed that Palpatine had not given up on him yet, but there was a rippling anger through the Force that suggested failure would not end well for either of them. All that did, however, was give them further incentive to win this war.
But even though Palpatine had not denounced him, Vader was slowly winning favour through the word of Rogue Squadron, his connection to Luke, and even some of his own actions. Mechanical prowess was a fantastic way to win favour in the Alliance, and Vader’s assistance on any number of technological projects – which proved to be reliable and genuinely improve the machinery – had endeared him to a few Rebels who had been skeptical at best about his presence.
Even Leia was beginning to… not warm up to him, necessarily, but she was growing more capable of hiding her disgust at his presence in their ranks. A talk between Luke and Leia still remained to be had – one encompassing everything wrong with this entire situation and just how out of line he’d been to suggest it in the first place – but she would admit when something was working, no matter how much she did not like it.
“Gotta hand it to ya, kid,” Han chuckled, sidling up beside Luke and leaning against the wall, “you must be some kinda miracle worker. Donno how you managed to get anyone to accept this farce, let alone most of the base, but you did.”
“And now you’re gonna let me fly the Falcon?” Luke was only partially joking as he turned to Han, a brow raised and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Sorry kid, but nah.” Han did nudge him, though, as Luke felt his face fall. “But like I told ya, I am impressed.” His grin persisted for a few more seconds, during which Luke rolled his eyes, but eventually Han’s face grew serious. “It’s just… Y’know, through all of this, I’ve been cynical and skeptical. Did what I could but tried not to get too involved. I’ve had my own problems, y’know? And all these big ideals seemed like a lost cause. Like it was all hopeless. But seeing you pull off things like this… Well. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stuck around.”
Luke shoved down the pang of pain he felt as Han’s gaze drifted towards Leia, who was updating some of the ranks on the schedule of their next briefings, looking every bit as authoritative as ever as she answered their questions along the way.
Han had also stuck around for her.
But he would not dwell on that. He had his father here for him, and at this time, that was truly what mattered.
“I’m glad you have,” Luke said several moments later.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Not sure how much we’dve managed without you.”
“Get the Princess to admit that and I’ll believe you.”
Luke couldn’t help but snort, an involuntary reaction, but that moment was fleeting. His expression grew sombre, and he sighed. “Maybe someday. But until then… well, what now?”
“What now?” Han’s eyes slid from Leia towards Vader, who was meticulously repairing a small piece of machinery as an eager Rebel hovered nearby. “We keep working with tall, dark and menacing. He’s done some good so far. Then we win this war. And then… I don’t know.”
Luke didn’t know either. His father didn’t know. Leia didn’t know. Nobody knew. But for now…
For now? All he could do was be thankful that Varth Dader had been winning people over and seemed to be giving them a genuine chance at success in all of this. He would have a true, proper chance at co-existing with his father. It was a dream he’d had his entire life, and to see it within grasp…
It felt too good to be true.
But, then again, the Force seemed to work in mysterious ways. Perhaps this was simply one of them.