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Luke had to brace his knees to keep his balance as the floor suddenly moved under him, lifting him up from the room of pipes and steam into a new chamber, dimly lit with red and orange emergency lighting. The shadows crawled, but even fresh off Dagobah and Yoda’s training, he couldn’t tell what emotion they carried. Malice? Anticipation? He shook them off like physical things and drew the Light closer.
He was here for Vader.
He was here for his friends.
Warily, he walked forward, toward the stairway. Steam hissed out of the pipes around the room, and at the top of the stairs, a dark figure loomed through it.
Darth Vader.
Luke’s blood quickened. He holstered his blaster and quietly unhooked his lightsaber from his belt.
“The Force is with you, young Skywalker,” Vader said. The shadows moved at his voice, eating more and more of the room, kept back by Luke’s Light by a hairsbreadth. “But you are not a Jedi yet.”
Luke yelled and swung his lightsaber, igniting it in the same moment as he lunged towards Vader—
And the shadows collapsed over him like a wave that knocked him off his feet.
Calm, safe, sleep consumed Luke’s resolve, putting out like water the burning in his blood that screamed to fight Vader. They made his fingers and arm go limp. His lightsaber, switched off, clattered to the ground. Luke followed, stumbling into a wall of hot pipes.
He cursed, and his voice came out in an exhausted slur. He slapped a bare hand to the wall to push himself off and screamed when it made contact with the burning metal.
His stumble away delivered him into leather-clad arms.
“Wha—” he said, trying valiantly to keep heavy eyes open. They shuttered open, shut, open, and each blink brought only a dark, blurred figure that reflected red and orange light. His entire body felt so heavy.
“You need rest, young one.” The voice was garbled in his ears. The room seemed to spin, or maybe rock like a ship diving into atmo. His clumsy fingers clung to the tightly woven fabric they bumped against.
“Res…?”
There was something with the Force. He could feel it. What was it…?
“Can you walk?”
“Wal…” he slurred. All he seemed to be able to respond with was a repetition of what that dark figure said. Any other word slipped out of his mental fingers like sand.
Mmm…sand…sand could be nice and warm. He lived in it…his whole life…until…until the Death Star…
Luke was pulled to his feet, one arm slung around the dark figure’s shoulders. He leaned heavily into them as he was walked, slowly, down a set of stairs. At the bottom, there came a sigh.
“Wha’s…wha’s goin’ on?” Luke managed. He kept blinking, trying to clear his vision, but the world was blurred. And warm. Sleep…
No! He couldn’t sleep right now, he—
Luke tripped on a grate, and the person holding him upright pulled him through the air until his foot met the ground in the next step.
—he had a mission to complete! Friends…?
Safe, calm, sleep bowled him over again, and he sagged in the person’s grip. His head lolled, and his eyes stayed shut for what felt like a long time. He was hefted into arms, and his head leaned against an armored shoulder.
“F’nds,” he said, eyes closed. He fought to open them again. “D’ng’r…”
Safe pressed against his head like a brand. He dragged in a slow breath, and let it out just as slowly. He was glad they were safe…
Was he?
Calm. The Force whispered it in his ear, and he could’ve sworn in that moment he felt a hand gently carding through his hair, could’ve sworn he heard a woman singing a lullaby.
“Aun’ B’ru?” When Luke finally struggled his eyes open, he was in a bright hallway. He flinched back from the light, but there was no hiding in the polished armor.
A scream broke the quiet.
“Luke!”
“Lei…?” Luke lifted his head, trying to see. There was something important about Leia he was supposed to be doing, supposed to remember… Kriff his blurred vision! What was happening?
Safe, calm, SLEEP. The feelings tried to drag him under, but Luke didn’t want to go. He made a noise of effort and put his hands on the armored chest he was cradled against. His limbs were too weak and heavy, despite all the strength training he’d done on Dagobah. His arms fell across his chest again.
“Silence her.” The voice rumbled through Luke’s own body. The Force sang in his ears, that lullaby again. Comfort, safe, calm reverberated through his entire being. He quietly drowned, drifting just below the surface of consciousness, not quite truly asleep.
Time passed. The light shining through his closed eyelids dimmed.
“H’lp,” Luke mumblred, reaching up. His weak fingers brushed against hard, irregular plastisteel, then fell back to his chest.
Safe echoed in the Force.
He couldn’t raise a shield. Any that he tried flickered and vanished.
The voice spoke again, soft, quiet, and slow. “I have a room for you, young one. There is a bed, and blankets, datapads filled with ship manuals, a large viewport that overlooks only the stars, not down at the ship. Looking out, you could be on any vessel in the galaxy. Should you wish, there are droids to work on, and ships. The newest TIE fighter model—”
At TIE fighter, Luke rallied again, and shoved weakly at the person holding him. TIEs were bad. Had to…escape…
Safe covered his eyes like a strip of thick fabric. He sagged in their grip.
They began talking again, still moving. “You can help me design the next model. And we shall work on your skill in the Force more, young one. You have improved, but there is much still to learn.”
Something hissed—a door?—and Luke was set down on a soft surface.
“Will you behave for a little longer, young one? I have other things I must attend to, briefly, then I will be back.”
Behave? For what? Who? Where was he?
Before Luke could move, the voice said, “I must make sure that your friends are…safe. Then I will return.”
Oh. Protect his friends? That’s what he was pretty sure he had been doing. That was good, then. Luke didn’t think he was in shape to do much protecting, at the moment.
He nodded and turned into the pillow beneath his head.
A blanket was pulled up over him, then footsteps retreated. A hiss and click, then all was silent.
-----------------------------
The Princess Organa was a spitfire, and even for an unarmed non-Force-sensitive, she was proving difficult for his stormtroopers to contain.
“Vader!” she shouted, attempting to shove her way through several troopers. “What did you do to Luke? If you harmed one hair on his head I swear, I’ll—”
“Stun her,” Vader said.
A blue ring shot out of a trooper’s blaster and finally silenced the Princess. She collapsed to the floor. Beside her, the Wookie howled mournfully.
“Do not pity your friend, beast. Pity yourself and the Princess. Your accommodations will not be so comfortable.” To the stormtroopers, Vader said, “Take them to the holding cells on the Executor and treat them according to standard four. Dismissed.” The troopers saluted with scattered yessir s, and took the prisoners away.
Standard four: valuable hostages, to be treated well until either they or the being they were held in order to control misbehaved.
Vader began the return journey to his and his son’s private rooms, satisfied. He had changed his plans to capture the boy last minute, and was glad to have done so. Luke had received training since their last meeting; it was possible that in a fight, Vader would have had to…disarm him, in order to defeat him, and he had no wish to grievously injure his son. The carbon freezing chamber had been enough of a risk. A fight was not worth the damage a lightsaber could do. Luke would need his strength, in the coming weeks.
And how strong the boy was in the Force! He had been right to not attempt to fight his son. Luke had fought him anyway, refusing to be pushed into sleep’s depths. Vader was proud. Force tricks only truly worked on the weak-minded, and his son was anything but.
It was lucky that Luke was so attached to his “friends”; they would be necessary to control him in the coming days, until Luke saw the truth about the Dark Side and all that it could accomplish. Luckier still that Solo had such a bounty on his head; retrieving the smuggler would be a powerful motivator for Luke to use the Dark, Vader was sure. Without the Dark Side, they stood no chance against Sidious. Luke would not see that now, he knew, but in time, he would come to understand. By any means necessary.
Ending Jabba’s pathetic life would be a good exercise, and good practice in taking down tyrants as father and son.
The Force flashed with Light, and Vader’s steps quickened.
First, however, he had to tell Luke of his parentage. And prevent the boy from escaping.