Chapter Text
The boy leapt out of the carbon freezing chamber with impossible determination and grabbed one of the cables hanging from the ceiling.
“Impressive…” Vader admitted, tracking his movements intently. “Most im—”
The Sith Lord did not get a chance to finish his praise. In the next moment, the cable Skywalker clung to tore, and he fell back down, flailing, too shocked to manage another save. Both boy and cabling hit the bottom of the freezing chamber, and Vader, unwilling to risk another miraculous escape attempt, swiftly motioned for the sequence initiation lever. With a sharp hiss, the pervading smell of liquid carbonate filled the room, and this time, no Skywalker came flying out of the pit - only a muffled scream, then swirls of vapor. An emotion not unlike concern passed through Vader’s mind as the Rebel’s blinding force presence suddenly dimmed to a flickering spark.
He called on Skywalker’s fallen lightsaber with the Force, and when it landed in his extended palm, he clipped it next to his own without a second glance. Then, with a thrum of his fingers on his belt, Vader waited for the instruments to indicate that the procedure was complete.
As the silvery slab finally emerged above the chamber, he moved quickly to inspect it, as if to verify that after an endless bout of close calls and near-captures over the past three years, Skywalker was at his fingertips at last. Luckily, the piece of torn cabling had presented no problem - it was ensconced just to the right of the boy, within the integrity of the carbonite seal. Vader triple checked the slab’s vital monitor sensors to ensure that Skywalker was in a state of perfect hibernation. Satisfied with the inspection, he activated his comm.
“Admiral Piett.”
“Yes, Lord Vader,” came the familiar voice a short second later. The man was nothing if prompt.
“Has my private transport been prepared?”
“Yes, sir. It is waiting for you at platform 347.”
“Good. Proceed with your show of strength mission to Mimban, then station the fleet in orbit to await further orders.”
Piett confirmed, and Vader cut the connection. The Emperor had made his intentions for the boy clear, but first, Vader had provisions for some of his own plans as well. He activated the newly minted carbonite slab’s repulsorlift projectors and guided it in a confident procession through the chaos of Cloud City.
Once he had secured his prize in the cargo hold of his enhanced G9 freighter, Vader set a course, and lifted off from Bespin, without acknowledging the newly installed Imperial flight control station. Soon, the mesmerizing linescape of hyperspace splashed over the viewport, and, now free to gratify his self-indulgence, the Sith Lord returned to the hold to examine his catch.
A mask of pained surprise had taken a hold of the boy’s features right before he was encased. He looked just like him, it was plain to see. The oval shape of the face, the dimpled chin, the strong jaw. His own eyes stared back at him in frozen anguish. Vader adjusted the controls for optimal energy disbursement, then stepped back.
Vader smirked underneath the guise of his mask. Situations like this one were the natural consequence of a Skywalker’s penchant for recklessness — a lesson he had learnt well himself, and one which he was prepared to impart to the boy once he had him under his care. He kept staring, all the while cognizant that his time would be better spent elsewhere. Checking on the engine efficiency of this ship for instance — it was an antique, after all, and prone to performance irregularities. Yet his son’s face held his attention, stirring memories he’d long considered buried.
For it was her son’s face, too.
Endless lines from memorized intel reports gathered on Skywalker ran in rapid succession before his eyes. The factory assault on Cymoon IV. The arena debacle on Nar Shaddaa. The bizarre read that had been Skywalker’s encounter with the Queen of the Screaming Citadel. The assault on Hoth. This brave and reckless son of his, who had miraculously survived birth, and been kept away from him for nineteen years, under the purported tutelage of no other than Kenobi. Vader’s anger seeped through the cargo hold like tendrils of tar.
He would unfreeze the boy in a controlled environment. He would explain everything, and his son would then undoubtedly join him. And together… There was no-one who could stand in their way.
Vader’s ruminations abruptly ended as the freighter’s hull shook in the grip of an invisible force. He ran back to the navigation console — the screen was overtaken by a long string of errors that he tried to scroll back, then the lights flickered, followed by a jerk that almost threw him out of his chair. The blue lines shattered before his eyes when the ship crashed out of the hyperlane violently. A blur of a green marble grew dangerously large in the viewport as the freighter kept spinning out of control. The nav computer’s report of what had gone wrong was cut short by a fatal error in the core processor, and Vader had to rely on his experience and intuition alone to wrestle the controls back online.
What had been powerful enough to inflict such damage in a hyperspace lane? He ran a list of options through his head as he attempted to steer the ship away from the gravitational field of the planet now in front of him, but it was in vain — the engines whined against the strain of a force they no longer were able to sustain.
Vader reached back with the Force to make sure the carbonate slab was securely attached to the wall of the cargo hold. He was unable to detect any traces of civilization, nor animal life at all on the fast approaching planet below. Then, he cursed in a long string of Huttese, and focused on delivering the latest substandard landing in his long career.
The ship came down hard, leaving a trail of scarred earth, broken branches and a scattering of fuselage pieces, but Vader had managed to salvage the main systems as much as possible under the circumstances. The navigation array spat out strange readings that he could not reconcile with their last known position in hyperspace. He would need to inspect the engines manually, the central core was still down, and the communication system was shot. In its current condition, according to the rudimentary diagnostic program he managed to bring online, it would be days before he could make the necessary repairs to the ship, and that was assuming that any damage to the engines was superficial.
At least Skywalker’s hibernation remained unaffected, as the carbonite slab was equipped with its own power cells.
Vader extended the ramp and spent the next few hours making an inventory of all external visible damage to the ship. The breathable atmosphere barely made up for this planet’s set of two suns, now hovering close to each other near the horizon in some kind of targeted cameo that he found distinctly unpleasant. Against all odds, he was stranded here with a wreck of a ship and a son encased in carbonate.
He glared at them briefly, just as the smaller star began to disappear behind the tree tops, then returned to his work, trying to patch up the central core. The larger sun soon followed the first and left him in the gloom of a purple twilight.
He rigged one of the ship’s landing lights to provide portable illumination, and spent the next thirty-six standard hours inventing new methods of creative engineering to make the ship flight-worthy. The only problem left was puzzling out how to replenish the lost charge of the central core. And, he realized in a tired haze, he had the solution right in front of him.
The carbonite slab required significant power to operate. If he were to free Skywalker, he could use its power cells for the central core. But he ought to make provisions for his son’s survival, first. At a minimum, he needed to make sure that this planet had a source of water nearby.
Another double sunset marked the passage of time, and Vader decided to take some rest, then head out in search of water, and possibly something edible for Skywalker, in the morning.
He did not sleep well that night. Visions of a woman with a worn face disturbed his peace. She was trying to reach him from a place far away. Trying to tell him something. Words he could not properly hear, arriving jumbled and twisted to his ears in a language he seemed to have forgotten.
Vader woke up with a start and looked around the ship, wary. He had chosen to lean his back against the wall of the cargo hold, near Skywalker, who remained a prisoner of his slab. No intruders. Nothing of concern in the Force.
The oppressive silence was getting to him, no doubt.
No matter. Soon, the repairs would be complete, and they would be off. Vader thought of releasing the boy immediately but dismissed the idea. Yet he could not bring himself to let him out of his sight either, so he unfastened the braces securing the slab to the wall, and activated the repulsors. He steered Skywalker ahead, down the extended ramp of the ship, and into the forest.
Vader had to clear some growth on the path with his lightsaber as they made their way through the thicket. No sound of birds, nor animal life stirred around them. No sound at all except the rustle of leaves with the wind. And the Force — it had gone quiet too: alive and strong all around, but hushed, like a frozen pond. The suns leaned close to the horizon hours after, still with no sign of water in sight.
He paused and tried to listen to the unnatural silence. Something stirred, deep and low in the fabric of life on this world, and he suddenly understood in which direction to turn. And soon enough, the shallow banks of a sweet-water lake spread before him, folded in the depths of a narrow valley.
Satisfied, Vader left Skywalker by the side of a cliff overlooking the lake, and descended down to fill his canister with water. When he climbed back up, he paused to take note of the silvery slab, reflecting sparks of crimson and purple, just like the shimmering surface of the lake below.
He lifted a hand and skimmed the side of his son’s face.
“Soon,” he thought, then turned to observe the last rays of the second sun dissolving behind the mountain range. For one day not too far off, after twenty-two long and lonely years, he and his loyal son would finally be watching the sunset on Coruscant, the boy in black, with the Imperial cog embroidered on his tunic. Shortly after Palpatine’s last sunrise.
With the last rays of sunlight fading, Vader snapped out of his daydream and activated the repulsors to tilt the slab back down. His eyes returned to rest on his son’s anguished face. Such an expression, he realized with a sudden pang, did not become him.
When he reached the hill near the location of their forced landing, Vader paused and stared at the next surprise fate had prepared for him on this trip. The ship was gone, and mysterious imprints in the Force lurked about the scene, all clandestine and silent as a tomb.
Vader climbed the hill in several large steps. The indentations from the landing gear were still there, and so was the trail of devastation left behind from their landing. He looked around in all directions, as far as he could see, switching between each of his vision enhancement filters. No trace of metal. No energy signatures. It appeared as if the ship had simply vanished into thin air.
The Sith Lord straightened his tense shoulders and imagined tearing whoever had done this into ribbons.
With nightfall fast approaching, his priority shifted to finding shelter. He recalled spotting a cliff-side by the lake with what had appeared like a cave opening, so he turned Luke’s slab around, and headed back through the cleared path they had come from. The temperature was dropping fast, and the eerie silence persisted.
Fortunately, he made good time on the already cleared path, and reached the cave with enough remaining daylight to secure Luke inside. At least the cave was dry inside, and the entrance wide enough to provide good vantage point for anything that might approach it.
Vader went through a somewhat familiar analysis of what parts of his suit could be repurposed to expand the range of his comm device. He was evaluating his third option when his eyes came to rest on the piece of cabling frozen together with Skywalker.
He recognized with certainty that the cable was made of the type of alloy needed to rig his personal comm system for deep-space range without sacrificing much else.
This was not the environment he had planned to release his son into, but there were very few other choices left. Vader got up, approached the slab, and examined his son’s features up close again.
“I truly hope I don’t come to regret this, boy,” he stated, then pressed the control switch to engage the carbonite release cycle. The hiss of the activated mechanism provided some relief from the oppressive silence, and Vader watched with no small signs of impatience as the last pieces of carbonite melted away from the boy’s face.
Skywalker’s Force presence flooded the cave and extended far and wide over the lake past Vader’s senses, like a flash from a supernova. The boy gasped for air as gravity caught up with his limp body, freed from its prison in a precariously unbalanced position. With the Rebel about to collapse, Vader stepped forward swiftly, grabbed his arms to steady him, then lowered him slowly to the ground. He positioned his back against the cave wall for support, and stepped back.
The youth tried to get his bearings, looking around the cave with wide eyes, then brought a trembling hand in front of his face, his features twisting in confusion. His other hand extended aimlessly for support, and stumbled on Vader’s arm, gripping his sleeve.
“I can’t see…” Skywalker’s voice held more disbelief than panic, but as reality slowly sank in, his shaky grip tightened. He had obviously not registered the rhythmic hiss of the respirator yet.
“You are suffering from hibernation sickness. Your vision loss is temporary.” Vader’s deep baritone echoed in the cave. Skywalker withdrew his hand as if burned.
“Vader.” He grimaced and tried to scramble back, away from the voice, but only found the hard cave wall pressed against his back. Icy dread leeched towards him from the darkness that surrounded him, and settled uncomfortably in his chest.
“Expecting someone else, Skywalker?”
Luke swallowed hard, then moved to wrap his trembling hands around his body. A small part of his mind was trying to remain rational, and prepare him for the worst, while another part was doing its best to run wild visions of what exactly that would entail at Vader’s hands. He cleared his voice and took great care to keep it steady.
“Where am I?”
“A question I cannot answer,” Vader offered, dispassionately. “But you are free of the carbonite, for now.”
Luke strained to discern anything in the darkness that enveloped him, his face drawn and pale. His hand suddenly reached for his lightsaber, as if expecting to find it still clipped to his belt.
“Do you believe you are in any position to resume our duel now, boy?”
The Rebel sucked in a breath, then looked around, as if hoping for invisible support to materialize out of thin air, or to awaken from a nightmare. When none of these scenarios played out, he tried to get back on his feet, and hit his head on the frame of the carbonite slab still looming next to him. Vader suddenly reached a hand to steady him.
“Let go.” The boy’s voice shook.
“Accept offered help when you need it, boy.”
“Not from you.”
Vader’s grip tightened on his arm, and he hissed:
“Sit. Down.”
Almost automatically, in response to the cold authority of Vader’s voice, Luke slumped back. His entire body was rigid and tense, yet he could not maintain the simplest of limb movements without shaking. At least he could track Vader’s whereabouts by the sound of the respirator. Luke knew that he’d been hopelessly outmatched in their “duel” on Bespin – he'd found out that sobering truth mere seconds after first crossing blades with him. And now, he was blind, at his father’s murderer’s mercy. He shrank back against the wall and kept his silence.
Vader had already disassembled the power cell from the cabling, added a few parts from the slab casing itself to his trove, then proceeded to tinker with the short-range comm on his wrist.
“What?” Vader rumbled, turning his attention back to Skywalker after a minute. “No further questions for me?”
“My friends.” Luke hesitated, “What did you do to them?”
“Your friends. The reason for your heroic but tragic rescue attempt.”
Luke flinched.
“Solo is en route to Tatooine, looking quite like the way you did just a few minutes ago, as an ornamental gift to Jabba the Hutt. Organa and the Wookiee are in my custody, and what happens to them will depend largely on your cooperation.”
The Rebel took the news in grim silence.
“But I would worry more about yourself than your friends, Skywalker. We are stuck in the middle of nowhere with very limited supplies.”
Luke visibly perked up at this splash of information. He straightened his shoulders and projected more bravado in his voice than he felt.
“I am not worried. And whatever you are planning to do with me, you can just get on with it already.”
“I will reveal my plans for you at a more opportune time. For now, I simply expect you to stay put while I fix our means of communication to get us out of here.”
“Where, exactly, is ‘here’?”
“By my estimation, we are in quadrant 2-A-5 of the Juves sector.”
“A rather loose guesstimate,” Luke’s dark mirth did not go unnoticed, but Vader chose to ignore it. “I take it this sector was not your planned destination.”
“Obviously.”
The fact that something had gone wrong with Vader’s original plan, whatever it had been, gave Luke a spark of confidence.
“Impressive,” he raised an eyebrow and did not conceal his mocking tone, “Most impressive.”
Vader whirled around to face the Rebel, even if he couldn’t appreciate the latent threat in that gesture.
“You will find that I, too, am full of surprises, Skywalker. Now mind your attitude, unless you wish to experience one of the more unpleasant varieties.”
Luke quieted for a bit after that, but the next question kept gnawing on his mind, and once Vader’s respirator had indicated no movement or change of temper for some time, the youth decided to risk posing it.
“Did you pick up my lightsaber?”
Vader looked up from his handiwork.
“You mean, your father’s lightsaber?”
“Yes!” Luke spat out indignantly.
“You seem to take great interest in your father’s affairs.”
“I do!” Luke exclaimed, proudly, but hatred seeped into his voice next. “Thanks to you, that lightsaber is all I have left of him.”
“I remember you throwing the same accusation at me on Cymoon I, boy,” Vader snapped, “I can only guess who told you that lie.” He paused, for a moment, as if he’d said everything he meant to say, but then changed his mind and added with steel finality: “I did not kill your father.”
For all that he could not yet see him, Luke stared at him blankly.
“You… What?”
The youth opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. The Force rang with the truth in Vader’s words, but a larger part of the event he had just mentioned remained obscured.
The Sith Lord scoffed. “All will be revealed to you in due time. Now let me work.”
“No!” Luke shook his head, “You can’t just leave things here! How did you know my father?”
Vader lifted his head from his task and sighed. He unclasped both lightsabers from his belt, and approached the Rebel.
“Give me your hands.”
“Why?”
“Because I wish to return your lightsaber to you. And, something else to keep you occupied.”
Luke stared at him with his unseeing eyes, but, unable to detect any tangible threat in the Force, slowly extended his open palms.
Vader pulled out the power cell from each lightsaber before placing it in Luke’s hand, then stepped back. Luke slowly closed his grip around the weapons and looked up at him in surprise.
“I have disabled both emitters. If you can guess which saber belongs to your father… You get to keep it.”
Luke ran his thumbs along the ridges on each hilt. Then, he examined the handles individually, and weighed them in his hands. He ran fingers over the emitters, activation modules, blade adjustment buttons, ring tuning flange…
“They are of the same design…” he muttered.
“Indeed,” Vader confirmed, as he completed the last bit of cross-wiring for the communicator.
“The second lightsaber… is it yours?” Luke sensed the Force standing to attention like a great wave, ready to swallow him whole with the incoming answer.
“Yes.”
A sudden chill settled around Luke’s shoulders like a wet cloud. Why was the Force behaving so strangely? What was he missing here? He had seen Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, and it had looked nothing like his father’s. Perhaps there were just a few proven designs for sabers in the Galaxy that beings often relied on when building their own. But then… why would Vader toy with him with this silly game? His heart suddenly beat faster, and he had to force himself to keep his teeth from chattering.
“Just what are you trying to show me, Vader?”
“Only that you do not yet possess the foresight to see the truth, but you have been told many lies.”
While Luke was still trying to process this cryptic statement, Vader stood up and took off his cloak. He approached the rebel, and without a warning, pulled him away from the wall to wrap it around his shivering form.
“What are you doing?” the boy croaked, and almost dropped the lightsabers.
“You are freezing. Carbonite sickness is not to be taken lightly, young one. You should rest. With some luck, your eyesight will begin improving by tomorrow. I still have work to do, and you talk too much.”
Luke overcame his shock.
“I don’t feel like resting!” he protested, but Vader passed a gloved hand over his forehead, and the boy sank slowly against the wall, his eyes struggling to remain open but giving in at the end.
Vader ensured his son was in a comfortable position, then stared at him wrapped in his cloak for a long while. He carefully picked up his lightsaber and restored its power cell. And Anakin’s old lightsaber - he clipped it back to Skywalker’s belt.
Then, he returned to completing his task with the communicator. He thought he heard something, a familiar melody droning over the still waters of the lake. It reminded him of a particular night at the Coruscant Opera - a night filled with worry and despair over the fate of two lives, and many dubious promises, too.
Vader sprang up and ventured outside, to check for the source of the infernal sound. As soon as he laid eyes upon the lake, the droning ceased. Was the Force playing games with him now?
He returned to the cave, weary. While the first life from that eventful night remained lost, the second one flickered bright and strong right in front of him, even as the threat of that melody, now stuck in his head, continued to disturb him.