Chapter Text
Ben Kenobi stole from his room in the dead of night, just across the hall to the second bedroom where he slipped inside. Luke lay in his crib--a proper crib, not the metal box or the hastily welded together thing Vader had fashioned. Not bothering with the lights, Ben retrieved the bag from the highest shelf in the closet, a bag he’d packed piece by piece over the last month, squirreling away supplies.
But Vader had left hours before, and while Ben couldn’t predict how long he’d be gone, they had time. They had been on this new planet for nearly two months wherever it was. Ben’s arm--broken in his last escape attempt--was fully healed.
Stealing back to the crib, Ben laid his hand on Luke’s head and sent the boy a reassuring pulse. “You ready for an adventure, youngling?”
Luke blinked bleary eyes, and recognition flickered in the Force. The boy closed his eyes again and made grabbing motions with his hands. Ben plucked the youngling out of bed and tucked him and the cloth toy Boga into the cross-chest sling. Once Luke was secure, Ben pulled on his cloak and slung the pack onto his back. Not a light load, certainly, but he’d marched further carrying grown men on his shoulders. He could carry a toddler and some supplies.
He made his way outside, across the grounds, and to the solid durasteel wall that stood close to fifteen feet tall. Obi-Wan leaped into the young tree overlooking the wall, catching himself among the branches and glancing down at Luke, but the youngling had a fistful of Ben’s tunic and slumbered on. He leaned out over the wall. Two stormtroopers marched past, blasters at their sides.
Their little manor complex seemed to be part of a larger neighborhood of oversized houses and sprawling grounds. A dark, towering mountain rose above them and looked like part of a mountain range that stretched off to the horizon, and the soft glowing silhouette of a city shone in the distance, maybe five or six klicks away. Ben frowned. They’d been on this planet close to two months, and he had yet to figure out exactly where they were, but at least Vader had brought them somewhere civilized this time.
A second patrol passed, and Ben marked the time. Three minutes between each pair, and some cover nearby. Good. Getting over the wall was the easy part. It was everything else that posed the trouble. Once the patrol passed, he leaped over the wall and landed in a crouch. When no alarms betrayed him, he shifted his pack higher on his shoulders. The neighbors were likely imperials and no help. No, the city was their best option to disappear, so he took off into the night up the mountainside.
Soon they were clear of the house, and Luke stirred slightly. “Ben?”
“I’m here, youngling. You’re all right?”
Luke stuck his hand out in the dark and patted until he found Obi-Wan’s bearded cheek then the youngling relaxed.
“Yes, Luke.” He patted the boy’s hand. “We are going on an adventure.”
“Why?”
“We are going to find some of Ben’s old friends. Somewhere.”
He felt Luke’s surprise then confusion as he thought of his father.
Ben hesitated. “No. Your father will not be there.”
“Da?” Luke squirmed and tried to sit up, but the sling wouldn’t allow him to. He grunted angrily and caught a fistful of Ben’s tunic. “Home.”
“We are going home.”
Where “home” was exactly, he didn’t know. Anywhere he would have considered truly home was long lost, and they could not go back to Tatooine. But the galaxy was vast, and there would be many places to hide.
They crested the rise, and below them glittered the outskirts of the city.
The Force whispered a warning just before the distant scream of a TIE caught his attention, and Ben crouched low. The Force coiled protectively around him and the boy, and when he raised his head, a line of stormtroopers was coming up the ridge after him. The TIE banked and circled back, the wind screaming over its bent wings, and Ben sighed. "Damn."
***
Vader stomped down the stairs to the living area where Obi-Wan sat at the dark wood dining table, hands on the tabletop in glowing blue binders. Two troopers flanked him and snapped to attention as the Sith stormed over to the table. Vader waved a hand, dismissing them, and they exited out the front door.
“Luke?” Obi-Wan asked.
“He is fine.” It had taken Vader close to an hour to get his son to cease crying and finally fall back asleep. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was turning grey and pink. Obi-Wan leaned back in the chair projecting an unbelievable amount of ease for a man in binders. But Vader had not known the man for over a decade to be fooled by some clever shields and careful posture. The clench of Obi-Wan’s jaw and the coiled tension in his shoulders betrayed his anxiety.
“How did you find us?”
“Tracker inside the bantha toy. I knew Luke would not agree to leave without it.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched in irritation, but he said nothing. Vader felt a flicker of shame then crushed it. It would not have mattered if the old fool had not jumped the garden wall, and it was better than the many alternatives he had considered. The breach had pinged oh his personal datapad while he was en route to The Executor, not even an hour after he had bid his son goodbye.
Vader hooked his thumbs in his belt and stared at the Jedi for a long time, the two of them stewing in silence. Finally, Vader grew bored and broke first. “My men are installing a ray shield over the house now. You will not escape that way again.”
Obi-wan said nothing.
Vader growled. “This cannot continue. I cannot worry every time I leave that you will not be here when I return.”
The Jedi raised his shoulders. “Then let us go.”
“You know I cannot.”
“Why?”
Because it was too dangerous for a Jedi and a child to be running about the Empire. Because he was trying to be better. Because he needed them. But Vader just stabbed his finger at Obi-Wan. “You of all people should know why.”
“Enlighten me.”
Perhaps this conversation would go better if they could make eye contact. Vader reached up to remove his helmet, but Obi-Wan stiffened, his shields slamming up to form a perfect barrier. “Don’t.”
Vader paused, and the Jedi’s jaw was clenched hard. Very well. Vader lowered his hands, mask remaining. “You must talk to me, Obi-Wan.”
“Yes, because you were always so good at that.”
“I would like to… negotiate.”
Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow with a supremely unimpressed look. It had been a poor choice of words, but Vader was tired. He was late for his rendezvous with The Executor, but this was more important.
The Jedi shook his head. “What could we possibly have to negotiate, Vader? You have all the power.”
“The terms of your staying here with Luke.”
“And what are these… terms?”Obi-Wan leaned back and tilted his chin to a defiant angle.
At least Vader knew he had his old master’s attention. He began to pace the length of the dining table. “You will stop trying to escape. You will agree to remain here, safe inside these walls with Luke. In exchange, I will allow you to raise Luke and to… to train him.”
“I would hardly call this a safe place for Luke. If the Emperor finds out—“
“He will not find out.” When Obi-Wan raised a skeptical eyebrow, Vader faltered. “And if he does, I will destroy him.”
“If I am going to voluntarily give up my freedom and Luke’s, which I have not agreed to yet, I need more than your permission to do what I’m already doing.”
Still pacing, Vader waved a hand. Nuance. If anything, he felt he was being generous since none of the Jedi’s escape attempts had actually worked so far. He paused. But one of them might be. And soon. Obi-Wan was persistent and would find a way to escape if he thought there was any hope, and Vader could not afford to let his son or the Jedi out of his grasp for a moment.
“Then what do you want?”
Obi-Wan sniffed. “You could stop threatening to kill me for one.”
Vader had ceded a long time ago that he didn’t really want to kill his old master. Not anymore. But still, he could not admit that out loud to Obi-Wan, so he just nodded. “Agreed. And in return, you will not disparage me to Luke while I am away.”
Obi-Wan hesitated then shook his head. “No. You are still a Sith and an Imperial, and I will not lie to him to make you feel better about your choices.”
“I do not ask you to lie. But you must not turn him against me.”
Obi-Wan snorted. “I doubt that I could. He loves you. Though I can’t imagine why.”
“Can’t you?”
The respirator kept Vader’s breathing steady, but he crossed his arms. Maybe Obi-Wan hadn’t meant it when he’d screamed at Vader on Mustafar. Maybe it had only been adrenaline and betrayal and anger, trying to hurt Anakin Skywalker the way Anakin had hurt him. But had said it, even if it was in the past tense.
Obi-Wan looked away, staring into the middle distance as the Force went perfectly still around him. The sun edged up over the hidden horizon and painted the sky in fiery oranges and reds, and just outside the glass door, a little golden bird landed in the grass, perfectly oblivious to whatever was happening inside the house. It stood a moment, listening, then flew away.
At the table, Obi-Wan exhaled slowly. “If you swear to not try and turn Luke to the Dark Side, if you swear you will not corrupt him with the ways of the Sith… I will not turn him against you.”
“Agreed.” The Dark had Vader, might always have him, but training Luke in the ways of the Sith meant his son’s suffering, and he could not stomach that. “And because I am feeling generous, you may continue to train him. But my son will not become a Jedi.”
Obi-Wan gave him a disbelieving look. “You want Luke trained by a Jedi without being a Jedi himself? You of all people must know that’s impossible.”
“He is my son, not a padawan, and you will not treat him like one. If you train him to kill me, it will only get him killed instead.”
Obi-Wan almost snarled. “I shouldn't be surprised you'd kill your own son--"
Vader slammed his hands on the table, and the sting of satisfaction he felt when Obi-Wan flinched soured and turned inward as hate. His anger made him powerful, but at what cost? He had broken Obi-Wan’s shoulder and burned him on Mustafar’s lava flats for running, but seeing the fresh burn scar on Obi-Wan’s neck hadn’t made Vader feel any better. It was only fair, said the Dark. A little burn like that was nothing compared to what his old master had inflicted.
Vader took a step back and crossed his arms, tucking his hands against his torso. “What else?”
“What else?”
“Yes.” Click. Hiss.
Obi-Wan gave him a long look. “What is this, Vader? You have sworn loyalty to the emperor, I watched you do it.” Obi-Wan’s face contorted with something awful before he controlled it back to a scowl. “You cannot divide your loyalties between your master and Luke.”
Vader clenched his fist. He had not meant for Obi-Wan to ever see him kneeling at Sidious’ feet, that horrible, desperate moment. Would he have chosen differently if—No. He clenched his fist tighter, the mechanical bits grinding. That story was over. There was only here and now. But Obi-Wan was right about one thing: Divided loyalties—Padme or the Order—had been what destroyed him. But even now he couldn’t explain. Even to himself. So he looked away. “I hate him.”
Obi-Wan’s surprise slipped past his shields. “What?”
Vader swung back to the Jedi. “I hate him. But since you will not help me kill him, I must wait for the right moment. Until then, we must learn to live with each other.” Click. Hiss. “If we can.”
Another long moment passed before Obi-Wan twisted the binders off and laid them neatly on the table. “The gardens.”
Vader blinked. Click. Hiss. “What about them?”
“I want free reign over the grounds. No maintenance droids, no troopers. A way to get whatever seeds or tools I need.”
“Oh.” Vader frowned. He hadn’t accounted for this, but that was easy enough. He would get the garrison commander to set up some kind of order and delivery capability. “All right.”
“And access to the holonet.”
Vader nearly agreed then remembered the state of the galaxy, a galaxy he had helped craft, and he knew Obi-Wan would not be proud of the empire he was forging. “I cannot give you unfiltered access to the holonet.”
“That implies you would allow filtered access?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“...Yes. I do want Luke to know about the galaxy.”
When Obi-Wan didn’t respond immediately, Vader let his arms fall to his sides. “You doubt my sincerity.”
“You hardly have a reliable track record for trustworthiness. As long as the empire exists, Luke is in danger, and I can hardly live in ignorance of what’s going on. What if you get yourself killed out there on some crushing crusade for your master, and we never find out?”
Vader hesitated again. That… it had occurred to him that he might be killed. He had wished for it before discovering Luke, still did sometimes in the deep quiet of space when he was far from them. But what if he did die? What would become of them?
“If I were to be killed, though I doubt anyone can kill me, the garrison commander has orders.” The commander did not have orders. Vader would have to figure that out.
Obi-Wan grimaced. “Our swift executions?”
“No,” Vader said, so emphatically it overrode his voice modulator in a snarl. “No, never. But… it is better that you do not know what is happening out there.”
Anger flickered across the Jedi’s face. “Not know? Do you think if you keep me ignorant of what you’re doing out there in your empire, I’ll forget what you’re capable of? You think I don’t know that the moment I take Luke over that wall, you’ll be hunting us until the day we die?”
“Then why do you keep running?”
“Because you are a Sith. You will destroy him.”
Vader stabbed a finger at the old fool. “I am protecting him. You have no idea how dangerous it is out there for Force sensitives."
"And whose fault is that?" Obi-Wan snapped.
"What would you have me do? Tear the empire apart?”
“Yes! No.” Obi-Wan pushed his chair back and stood, his jaw clenched as he visibly pulled himself back together. Then he turned on Vader again, a cold clarity in his eyes. “The boy I raised wanted to help people, not rule them by terror. It does not matter how benevolent you act here if you are out there murdering people by the score.”
That was it. Vader spun on his heel and waved his hand. “I do not have time for your lectures. We will discuss this when I return.” And he swept from the house, leaving Obi-Wan and Luke in his wake.
***
Ben stood knee-deep in the garden pond, snapping off the woody reeds and tossing them onto the pile he’d accumulated on the bank. It was the only building material available that didn’t have to come through the troopers who dropped off their weekly delivery. It was a new system, one Ben wasn’t convinced he liked. Luke delighted in unpacking the crates of supplies and groceries, but Ben knew the troopers searched and documented everything, and he didn’t want to give them a reason to search the house as well if they thought he was building some escape attempt. He only wanted his own house away from the manor at the top of the hill that reeked faintly of the Dark Side.
He snapped off another handful of reeds and tossed them onto the bank. Brilliant colored fish flitted about the far end of the pond. On the bank, Luke sat in the mud and smeared it all over his face and his arms up to his elbows. His favorite questions were “what” and “why,” though he preferred pointing insistently at things until Ben deciphered what information he wanted. And though the youngling still preferred to be held, he could move fast enough to disappear if Ben stopped paying attention to him.
He had not tried to run again. He had not explicitly agreed to Vader’s terms before the Sith stormed out of the house, but something told him he would only get one more chance. As much as Ben hated to admit it, Luke needed stability, not to be hunted down like a criminal by his own father. So they would wait. Once Luke was trained, once he was ready, they would leave the garden and Vader far behind.
The familiar shriek of a TIE fighter whizzed overhead, interrupting Ben’s work and his stewing, and Luke whipped his head up from his playtime. The TIE made a wide loop and landed just beyond the wall, probably on the landing platform Ben had only glimpsed over the wall, but Luke recognized Vader’s presence and tore off across the grass as fast as his legs would carry him. Ben slogged out of the pond, shook the water from his legs, and rolled his trousers back down to his ankles before following the child up to the house.
Inside, Vader was holding Luke above his head while the boy laughed and held onto his father’s mask. “Luke,” the Sith boomed. “My son, did you miss me?”
“Da!” Luke tugged on Vader’s helmet, trying to tug it off. He hadn’t quite figured out clasped or buttons yet, thank the Force.
“I missed you as well. I have brought you a gift.” Vader set the boy on the ground and picked a box off the table that he presented to Luke. The youngling grabbed at the box and struggled to open it before his father removed the lid for him revealing a set of miniature starships. With a shout of delight, Luke plucked one free and waved it through the air.
“Be careful, Luke,” Ben warned.
“Do not look so despondent. Here.” Vader picked a burlap sack off the floor near his feet and tossed it onto the table near the Jedi, where it thudded awkwardly and rolled an inch before coming to a stop. “A gift for you as well.”
“A sack, how generous,” Ben remarked dryly. “Perhaps I will use it to haul root vegetables.”
Luke grabbed the edge of the table with a questioning “What?” sound and a very insistent mental prod to be picked up so he could see what else his father had brought. But Vader laid his hand on Luke’s head and gently pushed him back. “Do not touch, Luke. It is for Obi-Wan.”
The youngling squawked in disappointment, but he let go of the table and stared intently up at Ben. With a shake of his head, Ben picked up the bag. It was lighter than he expected, so whatever was in it wasn’t metal. He untied the knot at the mouth of the sack and shot the Sith a look before peering down. “Honestly, Vader, the dramatics are--”
A head. A head, quite unattached to any body and lying at the bottom of the bag.
Gasping, Ben flung it across the room where it hit the wall and dropped to the floor. “What in blazes--Vader!”
The Sith didn’t look the slightest perturbed, only stuck his foot out to stop Luke from toddling over to the bag to look for himself.
Ben shuddered. Vader had agreed to stop threatening him, but this was…deeply unsettling. He played back through the past few weeks, looking for whatever he’d done that Vader had decided required Ben’s head, but only the reed house came to mind. Was this a warning?
“I said it was a gift,” Vader said. "Stop your dithering."
Eyeing Luke, who was still trying to get past his father’s boot to the bag, Ben crossed his arms. “Was it some I knew?”
“Did you recognize him?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly take a good look.”
Vader raised a hand and called the sack to himself and retied the mouth of it closed. “This was Captain Basscon. An interrogator for the Empire who was particularly good at extracting confessions from suspected… criminals. He was a sadist, and I am not sorry to see him dead. Neither should you.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at the slight hesitation, but he wasn’t sure what Vader had stopped himself from saying. “So your first thought was to kill him and bring his head to me?”
“It was not my first thought. But when an opportunity presented itself to remove him from his position, I took advantage of it. I thought you would be pleased.”
“Why? What in blazes makes you think I want the head of some Imperial officer?”
“You want me to tear the empire down. I cannot do that, obviously, but for every year you do not try to take Luke away or run yourself, I will bring you the head of a corrupt Imperial. Perhaps it will build your faith in my empire.”
The Jedi knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. “I asked you to do some good in the galaxy, not—I do not want you to kill people because you think it’s going to make me happy.”
“Why not?”
Dumbfounded, Ben stared at the Sith. He didn’t—how did he even begin to explain? How had he failed Anakin so badly? He looked down at Luke, the bright boy who had turned back to his new toys. Would he fail Luke now too?
Vader seemed to grow uneasy under Ben’s silence and tossed the bag back onto the table. Then he picked Luke off the floor, and the boy held up his toy to his father's red-eye lens.
“If you do not want it, I will not do it again.”
Sighing, Ben folded his arms and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is not about what I want. It’s about doing the right thing for its own sake. Because it is right.”
The Sith stared at him like he couldn’t comprehend what Ben had just said. He lowered his hand and looked at the bag again. “I suppose I can appreciate the sentiment. But please. No more heads.”
Vader’s respirator hiss an exhale that almost sounded like a snort. “Very well. Do you agree to the terms we negotiated?”
Ben gave him a long look before shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem I have much of a choice.”
With a triumphant tilt of his helmet, Vader raised Luke into the air. The boy squealed and kicked, and Vader tossed him a little before catching him and swinging him around. With a resigned sigh, Ben gathered up the bag and carried it into the garden. He would bury it somewhere, under one of the young oak trees perhaps where neither he nor Luke would stumble into it. They were going to be here for a long time, and he would have more than enough skeletons to explain to the boy.