Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was pure coincidence.

Nothing except pure, accidental coincidence.

He hadn’t physically eaten anything in over two decades but the thought that were it not for some last minute order from the emperor as another twisted way to keep him in line and under control, Vader would never have even been in this Force forsaken system in the first place. He would not have been looking out this viewport and would never have seen this particular ship off in the distant and might never have become aware of a bright, familiar presence which was most certainly on board and demanded the ship be brought in via tractor beam.

It was the thought that this all might have slipped his notice which made him sick to his stomach.

The ship was called the Antioch. It was a Corellian brand YT-2400 freighter and as the ship was being pulled in, a Lieutenant Yentz in the hangar bay reported via comm that the owner of the vessel was Captain Tro Ers, a weequay pirate who dealt in illegal arms dealing and slavery. According to Lieutenant Yentz, the captain was upset by the unwarranted detainment but willing to cooperate.

“Inform them to leave their weapons and have all crew members disembark. I will be arriving shortly.” Vader ordered coolly.

“Yes, my Lord Vader.”

Arms dealing and slavery.

How… unexpected. These were not the sort of scum that he would expect Luke to get involved with, his affiliation with terrorists notwithstanding. What had driven his son to this engage with this particular brand of filth?

He pressed along their bond searchingly but there was no response or even acknowledgement of his presence. Only a strong sense of unease, bordering along terror came from Luke’s side. Vader drew back, his brow furrowing.

No matter, he decided abruptly. Luke would not be able to escape him this time. Vader would have his son and the answers to his questions soon enough.

It didn't take long for him to arrive at the hangars. Normal work processes had halted and there were many crewmembers standing off the sides, watching curiously. They snapped to attention as Vader strode in but he had eyes for nothing except the Antioch. 

The crew had disembarked and were standing in a line-up, held at blaster-point by several of his private Legion. Their fear grew as he approached and Vader surveyed the crew members with close scrutiny... but none of them were who he was looking for. He turned back to the captain, giving him the darkest look he could muster. Even a non-Force sensitive would be able to feel his ire.

“I said everyone.”

The weequay swallowed. “This is the entirety of the crew, Lord Vader. I… I don’t – “

“Captain,” Vader interrupted coldly, pointing a finger at him. “There is someone else aboard your ship. Bring him to me or I will break your spine.”

Whatever color Ers still had in his face drained in an instant. The dark side laughed silently, gleefully snapping at the captain's ankles as he twisted around in a desperate fury to his pathetic, vulgar little lackeys.

“Get the kriffing kid!” He ordered. Vader could practically feel the captain’s heart racing in his chest.

A member of the crew quickly darted back inside the ship and after a few seconds went by, Luke’s presence in the Force shifted nervously. But now that they were so close to each other, Vader realized that it felt… different. Off, somehow.

There wasn't enough time for him to pinpoint why it seemed different because just then the crew member reemerged, dragging with him by the front of the scrap of cloth that barely passed for a shirt… was… Luke?

Vader blinked.

That couldn’t possibly be right.

He was a child.  

A youngling - four, perhaps five years old at best. 

But… it was Luke – it had to be because it simply wasn’t possible to mistake that particular Force signature for anyone else. With their Force bond established now on both ends, Vader could recognize him even from across the galaxy. 

For the longest moment, all he could do was stare at the child struggling half-heartedly against his captors grip. Shaggy blonde, sun-bleached hair, scraps that barely qualified as clothes, but desert-like in make - it was almost like looking through a mirror to the past.

"...Luke?" 

The child's head jerked up at the sound of his name.

Vader barely refrained from killing the man who quickly shoved Luke away from him, causing him to stumble and fall forward on his hand and knees against the hard durasteel floor. A crude makeshift gag had been forced into his mouth and tied around his head to keep him quiet. The sight had him nearly exploding with rage.

Luke’s signature brightened in the Force as he caught sight of Vader for the first time even as his eyes grew huge. The bond between father and son which had sprung up between them at Bespin was still in place, even at this younger age, and though there was no recognition on his youthful face, some subconscious part of his sons mind instantly recognized Vader as family. 

The child hesitated for a brief moment, confusion and fear warring inside him as he stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes before glancing back at his captors. His very presence in the Force recoiled away from them, shrinking in terror as if he felt like nothing more than a small rodent trying to avoid being kicked or stepped on in their presence. 

Unable to shield, scattered memories unknowingly fluttered across their bond and Vader saw images of the Antioch crew shouting and angry, of Luke huddled in a corner of the ship crying quietly, lonely and confused and surrounded by debris and filth. He felt the unfamiliar cold of space and the sensation of unwanted hands on his body, of hunger, and the pain of being harshly slapped across the face – 

The black behemoth that was Vader was just as terrifying to him, a figure straight from children’s nightmares… but it was that faint call of family – of Skywalker blood calling to its own – that ultimately made Luke’s decision for him. He stumbled to his feet and bolted towards Vader, ducking behind him for safety and clinging tightly to the back of his leg.

“That’s everything!” Tro said desperately. “That was the only cargo we had onboard. Now, now we did what you asked. We all cooperated –"

“I made no promises for your release, captain.” Vader interrupted dangerously. He was painfully aware of the small weight pressing up against him and dared not move. “Do not attempt to put words in my mouth. What were your intentions for your cargo?” He spat the word with obvious disgust and for once was unable to find any pleasure in the spike of terror it evoked.

He knew - he knew what they had planned. There were only so many things slavers wanted with children, after all. But this worm ridden filth was going to say it out loud. He was going to admit his wrongs for everyone to hear so that there would be no misunderstanding about why he and the rest of his hired scum were going to die.

But he also needed to know how they had done this. And he needed to know how it could be undone.

Tro licked his lips, extending his hands and shrugging almost helplessly. “Kids are – well, kids… they’re worth a lot of money to the right buyer.” He offered weakly, desperately even. “The Empire – this, none of it is illegal, Lord Vader. Surely – surely, you understand that.”

Vader tightly clenched his fist, watching the captain of the Antioch choke on nothing. He was furious, angrier than he could remember being in a long, long time. The Force blackened with his rage. “You presume far too much, slaver.”

With a vicious thrust of dark power, Vader forced his way into the captain’s mind, easily ignoring his feeble attempts to push Vader out and tearing through his memories searching for the answers to his questions.

Tell me what you did! He snarled.

– Tro had done this for years, had bought and sold countless children – they were nothing except price tags – faces of countless littles ones were ripped out of his memory, each of them malnourished and crying, begging to go home or simply quiet and resigned to their fates – Vader saw them all, looking for his son among the unfortunate – Jonun had new cargo for him – a boy, small, blonde, with a pretty face… - found him – the kid was a premium and would fetch a high price among the right crowd – Jonun, the lying BASTARD, selling him damaged goods – Tro squeezing Luke’s handless arm, wanting to break it in his rage at the deception – Luke, being shoved against wooden crates, crying in pain and cradling his arm – too many bruises now, damn it, but he could make this work, they could still find a buyer – days later, pulling the male togruta away from a cowering Luke, the rags he wore for clothes askew and torn – Fenik, you asshole! Try to touch the little bastard again and I’ll be selling YOU next – barely remembering to toss a plate with what barely amounted to table scraps on the floor – kriffing Imperials, the hell could they possibly want? –

Vader surfaced, not caring if he ripped the captain's mind apart as he did so. He glared at the weequay, watching him foam at the mouth and collapse in a fit.

The rest of the crew were watching their captain in horror, held in place by fear and the blasters trained steadily on them by the 501^st.

So, the Antioch crew did not know who Luke was and were not responsible for his condition. This… transformation… had been done by someone else. He would find out who and he would set this to right. But first….

The togruta, that filth – the scum of the galaxy, the one who dared try and touch his son – Vader clenched his fist and yanked him forward and away from the others.

He would suffer.

Vader would break every bone in his body, tear him apart limb from limb, slice him into pieces and force him to eat it before burning him alive in the fires of Mustafar because there was no other suffering which compared to that hell –

Behind him, Luke whimpered, burying his face further into the back of his leg.

And Vader… hesitated.

Slackening his grip, feeling his Sith rage lessen slightly, Vader glanced down at the child – at his son, who was perhaps almost twenty years younger than he was supposed to be.

Luke.

He was trembling.

Luke needed help.

Vader glanced up, glaring furiously at the togruta. He would suffer. He would know pain. But… perhaps this was not the right time or place.

“Arrest them.” Vader bit out, abruptly releasing the togruta and allowing him to collapse to the ground, coughing and crying and bleeding from his eyes. With some effort, Vader began to dispel the spitting, raging monster that was the dark side of the Force until it was muted and quiet once again. “Take them to the detention cells. Put all of them in isolation. I want to know exactly what was done to my – to Skywalker.”

The admiral approached him as several of the 501^st quickly took over the situation, putting the Antioch crew in binders and leading them out of the hangar bay.

None too gently, he noted with some small satisfaction.

“I will schedule an interrogation, my lord, and see if we can learn of Skywalker’s current whereabouts.” Piett replied dutifully, before glancing down at Luke. “I will arrange for medical to take care of the child and see if we can find out who his family is –"

“Admiral.” Piett paused at the interruption, looking back up at him and Vader continued dryly, gesturing downwards. “This is Skywalker.”

The admirals’ eyes widened and he did a double take, staring at Luke with open surprise. “Ah.” He licked his lips, pointing a finger at him before thinking better of it and clenching his hand into a fist instead, biting his knuckle for a moment, his thoughts racing. After a moment, he dropped his hand and let out a slow breath, doing his best to gather himself professionally. “I… see. Shall I still call for a medic, my lord?”

“Do so. No,” he said quickly, changing his mind. “Retrieve one yourself. Keep the details vague. The name Luke Skywalker is not to leave this hangar and no one is allowed to leave. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir. I will see to the details.” Piett said.

The admiral stepped aside to make good on his word and Vader had the faintest sense of his utter bewilderment before his attention shifted fully to the child still hiding against him.

“Luke,” Vader hesitated, uncertain of how exactly he was supposed to proceed. In another life he had been good with children. In this life… in this life, he had no real business being around children. Not after all that he had done - he was a monster, after all. But Luke was his son. His responsibility - the last remnants of his family. He could figure this out. 

After a moment of consideration, he carefully dropped into a crouch, trying not to jostle his child too much as Luke shifted out from under Vader’s cape more to the front of him in order to avoid being squashed.

His eyes were red from crying and a discolored bruise, a few days old, decorated his cheek.

“Hello Luke.” He said quietly, sending soft, nearly indiscernible pulses of quiet safe warm through their shared bond in an attempt to try and set the child at ease. Vader lifted a hand towards Luke’s face, pausing only when he shrank back in fear, noticeably trembling. “Can I remove this for you?”

Luke stared at him uneasily for a long moment, his Force presence bright and ever-shifting. Flickers of chaotic thoughts and emotions streamed freely and unknowingly along their bond. The dark display of power used on the captain of the Antioch and the togruta had frightened him terribly.

“Do not be afraid, Luke. I will not hurt you.” Vader promised, letting the Force chime with the truth of his words.

Long seconds passed and then a minute went by and then almost two. Finally, Luke nodded very hesitantly.

With a little Force manipulation and a gentle tug, the gag came away and was tossed to the side. It had been secured tightly enough that it left raw indentations on the sides of his mouth. Luke rubbed at the marks with the back of his hand, his blue eyes flooding once again with tears. The sight made Vader want to break someone in half.  

Behind them, the doors to the Antioch closed with a loud hiss – a common enough sound in a hangar bay but one which was entirely unfamiliar to his young son and only served to spook Luke further. He jolted at the sound and drew a little closer to him, pressing against his side and clutching at Vader’s arm as if he were terrified someone would try and drag him away.

“I… I want to go home.” Luke whimpered for the first time, staring up at him with big pleading eyes. “Will you take me home, please?”

Home.

It took all the self-control Vader didn’t have to not react with possessiveness or anger. Though he was not practiced in displaying gentler emotions... he could certainly try. For Luke, he could try. Home for this child was on Tatooine with Beru and Owen and even if he’d ever been inclined to return his son to his guardians, it was entirely impossible. They were dead and had been for several years now.

But Luke… Luke was so young – he didn’t need to know that. Not when he couldn’t possibly understand and not when Vader did not yet know how Luke had come to be this age and in this situation, or how long he’d been amongst slavers for. At least for now, and until Vader knew more, his son had been through enough.

“Yes, little one.” Vader replied, once again sending kind, gentle pulses of calm safe relax through their bond, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible but also trying to learn what he could while the opportunity was available to him. Luke’s presence in the Force felt more established than a typical younglings’ was at so innocent an age. It was wildly powerful but also out of control – loose, in a way that could only be explained by Luke having no concept of what the Force was at this age in the first place.

How was this possible? What did those scum do to his son?

What was he supposed to do to fix this?

It had to be undone – this… whatever this was – could not be allowed to continue indefinitely. In this condition, Luke was far too vulnerable and if the emperor were to find out, then he would surely jump at the opportunity to take Luke from him and break him into the capable, powerful servant that Vader had failed to be for him. There was no one to stop him, no Jedi council to hide from, no politicians or wars to manipulate from both sides, no higher authority to please. Palpatine had the galaxy in his fist and could dedicate all his energy to a new apprentice if he wanted to.

Luke would be completely at his mercy, could be twisted and tortured and molded and broken into a tool and a weapon even at this age. Or perhaps, especially at this age.

It would happen, if Vader didn’t hide this.

And if the last twenty years had taught Vader anything, it was that he could not keep secrets from the emperor for very long.

Stretching out into the Force, Vader quietly and immediately began to gather Luke’s presence into his, using his darkness to obscure him from Sight, both shielding and restricting him. He was so bright in the Force that it would be impossible to hide him completely but finding him would be like looking through a dark, cloudy haze and all the more difficult for it.

Luke’s brow furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar sensation, and Vader felt his anxiety spike as he felt something that he had no words to describe happening to him. Vader gently reached out and tilted Luke’s chin up with his fingers to distract him from it. “I will return you to your aunt and uncle safely.”

The distraction worked and there was a confused cluster of scattered thoughts and impressions instantly racing along their bond – cold-familiar-not familiar-family?-but who-don’t know-scary-home – as Luke looked up at him, finding and meeting his eyes perfectly through his mask. It had been a long time since someone had done that and longer since anyone had been willing to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

Holding Luke’s stare and radiating as much calm as he possibly could, Vader could not stop himself from wishing that he could see that Luke’s eyes were blue for himself. He had seen Luke with his own eyes only in holos, taken from a distance and rarely of decent quality. The danger of the situation aside, it seemed infinitely unfair that his child was before him now, at an age where there could be no lightsabers or wars between them… and yet it still felt so far.

All the reports and descriptions said that Luke’s eyes were blue.

He wondered if they were the same shade that Anakin’s had been.

Not quite set completely at ease but looking perhaps more hopeful than before, Luke sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand again. “…really? You mean it?”

“Yes. Really.” Vader promised. “However, we are very far from Tatooine.” He warned gently. “It might take us a few days to arrive there.”

“Days?” Luke repeated, his Force signature spiking slightly with renewed concern. He glanced around the hangar bay, so drastically different from anything he’d ever seen before at this age, and then edged even closer to Vader as if worried that the ships or the stormtroopers still hovering nearby might spring to life and attack him at any second. “But… my auntie – Uncle Owen… they’ll be scared cause I’m not home. What if… what if they think that a womp rat catched me?”

Despite everything, Vader couldn’t stop himself from smiling then. His resentment towards the reality of Luke’s childhood guardians aside… the question was so innocent and even safely hidden within the folds of his darkness, Luke was so light. It had been decades since he’d felt something so pure.

His son was an absolute marvel.

“I think your aunt and uncle know that you are much too clever for even a womp rat to catch.” Vader replied seriously, cautiously lifting his hand. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out to ruffle Luke’s sun bleached hair. It succeeded in getting the tiniest smile to cross his face and Vader felt his heart flutter with some unnamable emotion at being the one to elicit it. “Do not worry. The time will go by much quicker than you think, little one – and I will keep you safe until then. Will you let me do that?”

Luke cast one more wary glance around them, his eyes lingering uncertainly on the stormtroopers and other hangar bay personnel. An indistinct, subconscious thought – something blurry and unfocused – was whispering avoid-danger-not safe. Without truly understanding the warning, Luke quickly nodded up at him. “Yes please.” He said with a small voice.

“Very well.” Vader said warmly. He glanced away for a moment to look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Piett had returned with a medic. “Just stay close to me, little one.”

He rose to his feet and felt Luke cling once again to his side, shyly pressing his face into Vader’s leg to hide from the newcomers. Vader rested a hand on top of his head as a foreign attempt at comfort. The feeling of warm relief that crossed between them was enough to convince him that it had been the right thing to do.

Once Luke had been tended to and cleared by a professional - once he was convinced Luke had not been hurt besides the obvious, Vader would see to it that he had a warm bath, a meal, and a chance to rest. Arrangements would need to be made to ensure his presence on the Executor remained a secret. The hangar bay staff would need to be questioned and anyone who had questionable loyalties between Vader or the emperor would be swiftly executed. Once the most immediate threats to Luke's safety were dealt with, he would go about setting everything to right. 

Vader had been willing to give his adult son the entire galaxy - the Empire was his birthright, after all - but until this very instant, he'd never realized that he would also rip it to shreds for him too. 

Chapter Text

Firmus kept his expression professionally neutral even as his thoughts were chaotic and running every which direction as he tried to process what he now knew. 

Just when he thought his job and his life couldn’t get any more complicated.

He had meant to walk to his private quarters and rest for a few minutes – it had been a long day and longer still on account of all that he’d been assigned to do in order to keep Skywalker’s presence on the Executor a secret from the larger public and the emperor. It was going to be difficult on a ship as large as this one was but Lord Vader had already done some quick murder of various and seemingly random persons while Firmus had quickly implemented some major security measures and shut down outgoing ship correspondence, setting the system up to flag everything and anything for any mention of 'Luke Skywalker', 'rebellion', 'Death Star', 'Darth Vader' and any of the other numerous variations of the same. 

But after a few minutes of being lost in his own thoughts, Firmus looked up and found that his feet were taking him in the direction of the high-ranking officer’s private lounge and bar. 

Apparently he needed a drink. 

Pulling out his ID, he scanned himself inside and was greeted by a mostly empty bar room. It was an elaborate space and he approached the silver protocol droid programmed as a bartender and requested a strong Corellian whiskey. The dark mahogany wood of the bar table was complimented by several large viewports staring out into the wide expanse of space and some rather splendid foliage that was artistically placed around the bar to give it an open, luxurious air. Towering wooden cabinets were mounted into the wall behind the counter and were filled with gorgeous drinking glasses and Imperial memorabilia type items. A few pieces of artwork adorned the walls as well; it was usually a pleasant change from the drab gray of the ship's main corridors. 

“Give me the strongest drink you have.” Firmus said wearily, settling into one of the bar stools.

“Of course, admiral.” The droid said politely. 

The two men that were already present stood up from their table in the corner and, after offering Firmus a polite nod, disappeared out the door, leaving him alone. The only sound was the tinkling of glass as the droid poured his drink.

“Will that be all, air?” It asked, sliding it towards him on a coaster with an image of the Imperial cog on it.

Firmus nodded his head, picking up the small tumbler and staring at the wall. “For now,” he said dismissively. “Leave the bottle though.” The droid took its cue to leave and disappeared from his line of sight. 

Corellian whiskey was stronger than what he usually went for but he lifted the tumbler to his lips and downed the whole thing in one go. His thoughts were running so fast and going in so many different directions that he forgot to hold his breath and then barely even noticed the taste going down. 

He didn’t want to think. 

But it seemed that the day was not through with him yet because only a few minutes later, the door beeped as another card was scanned from the opposite side and Firmus looked up as it slid open silently and as someone else stepped through. 

It was General Veers. 

Damn. 

Damn damn damn. 

Firmus grabbed his drink and the bottle of whiskey and moved away from the countertop, going to sit at one of the corner tables that was farthest from the door. Veers tailed him and then sat down on the opposite side of him.

Judging by the disbelief on his face, he had heard what had happened earlier through the Lady’s gossip chains. That did not bode well for secret keeping; though Firmus suspected that even their best efforts would not hide who they had onboard indefinitely. 

What the hell? Veers mouthed silently, leaning towards him slightly.

Firmus shook his head minutely even as the events of the day came crashing down on him once again. It made his heart pound and his hands begin to sweat. He poured himself another drink and then raised his whiskey to his lip, sipping it slowly.

“Is it true?” 

A long drink.

“Firmus – “

“Shut up.” Firmus said instantly, lowering his glass and raising a finger to point at Veers’ face. “Just shut up. I don’t know anything. You don’t know anything. No one knows anything. Luke Skywalker is not on the Executor.”

Veers was silent for all of about ten seconds. “But is Skywalker really his kid?” He whispered. 

“Why do you think I know?” Firmus demanded in a hushed whisper. “You think just because I’m the admiral that I’m suddenly privileged to know all of Lord Vader’s Force-damned secrets?”

“You were there!”

“Max!” Firmus sighed, burying his face in his hands with an exhausted groan. He was barely able to resist banging his head on the table. “I cannot – I cannot possibly stress to you enough how much I cannot say anything about this. Not right now, at least. So, please – just don’t. For both our sakes.”

He did know. He had been there when the kid had collapsed in the hangar bay and later for the medical visit where everyone present had been trying to figure out how Skywalker could be four instead of twenty-three; the medical staff present had been treating the whole debacle like the galaxy's most interesting science project, poking and prodding and scaring the shit out of the poor kid until Vader had finally lost his patience and demanded to know what the hell had happened to his son.  

One could have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence that followed that wholly unexpected revelation.

Medical staff changed their tune real fast after that and, in Firmus’ personal opinion, were lucky they hadn’t been executed. Instead, one of the old clone medics that served on the ship had been summoned by Vader himself and had taken over. 

But the image - the image of Vader picking up the damn kid like he was the galaxies most awkward and socially inept step-uncle of his sister’s husbands aunts niece that was being handed a random baby and just… standing there dangling Skywalker out in front of him as if he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing with a person so small and vulnerable was branded in Firmus' brain for the rest of forever. 

As well as the tender little hug he’d managed to give the kid that had finally calmed him down after and sent him to sleep. 

Dear Force. 

Luke Skywalker was the son of Darth Vader. 

All of the damn officers Vader had killed for ever mentioning even the slightest hint of aggression towards the rebellion’s famous poster boy made a hell of a lot more sense now. As well as the somewhat infamous 'Alive and Unharmed' stipulation that had been added to Skywalker’s bounty a little over two years ago. 

A long moment of silence stretched between them before Firmus dared to peek through his fingers. Max was just staring at the table top now, one hand pressed against his mouth. His eyes were wide with disbelief; a few seconds later he exhaled a shaky sigh and signaled the droid for a drink. 

The droid delivered it a minute or so later, setting it down in front of Veers with a customary, "Here you are, sir.”  

Max took the glass and downed the whole thing in one go.

Firmus understood the feeling perfectly. Another minute or so passed between them and then he sighed. “I’m not saying that whatever you think you’ve heard is correct… but I might need your help in tightening up security around the ship. Preferably by tomorrow.”

Their eyes met for a moment and Firmus knew without words being said between them that they were both on the same page of understanding with each other. 

“Well, kriff.” Veers sighed. 

Kriff.

Firmus snorted a dry laugh. “Kriff,” he agreed tiredly, before clinking his glass together with Veers’ and downing it entirely. He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was five hours after the end of his original shift. His self-appointed break was only going to last for another fifteen minutes. 

It was going to be a long, long night.

Chapter Text

Vader hoped that, given the extreme and equally unexpected nature of Luke’s condition… that perhaps he could be forgiven for not immediately realizing that his little son was unwell.

He had only just stood up so he could address the medic that Admiral Piett had retrieved for him, Luke clinging shyly to his leg, when he suddenly felt it.

A gross wave of nauseating dizziness, something outside his own personal realm of constant hurt and pain. The impression was so abrupt and powerful that his head began to pound and his vision blurred in response.

Instinct alone had him twisting around and lunging just as Luke turned white as a sheet and promptly collapsed, falling towards the hard durasteel floor. Vader managed to catch him just before his skull hit the ground and he quickly lifted Luke’s limp little body up into his arms. Anxiously, he searched along their bond for any sign of consciousness and found almost nothing – nothing except the faint lingering sense of intense stress and discomfort.

“Medic Lenbri,” he snapped quickly without looking away from Luke’s lax expression. “Emergency – NOW!”

“Yes, my lord.” The medic hustled the remaining distance between them and she reached up and pressed her index and middle fingers against the carotid artery in Luke’s neck.

“Bring him over here.” She said moments later, withdrawing her hand and snatching up her bag before directing him towards a worktable pressed against the wall of the hangar. Vader swept the hangar tools sitting on top of the table away with the Force and barely heard them clatter loudly to the ground and scatter every which way, focusing instead on setting Luke down as gently as he possibly could.

“Excuse me, but I need you to step away.” Medic Lenbri said briskly once he had done so, ushering him off to the side in the way only a medic would dare to do. He refused to go farther than absolutely necessary and watched intently as she began her evaluation, pulling equipment from her bag. He looked away only to watch as another medic began to approach just moments later – summoned by a bystander, or Piett perhaps - and joined her. 

“Airways are clear. Capillary refill is delayed – CTC is pale, cool, and diaphoretic.” A pulse oximeter that had been connected to one of Luke’s fingers beeped. “Respirations and heart rate are elevated. I was told that he was pulled off of a slave ship?” Medic Lenbri confirmed, glancing at him quickly. Her thoughts and impressions in the Force suggested that she felt somewhat confused by his continued presence but she was wise and focused enough not to question it.

“Yes.” Vader replied tightly. “He was among the slavers for several days, at least.”

The medic winced in sympathy and then addressed her partner. “Vic, check his blood sugar levels. Who knows when this kid last had something to eat.” To Vader, she asked, “Did he say anything about not feeling well?”

“No.” Vader denied, watching as the second medic – Lloyd – swabbed one of Luke’s fingers with an alcohol wipe before pricking his finger for a drop of blood. “He was lucid and able to communicate clearly. He became dizzy just before he collapsed.”

“He’s hypoglycemic.” Medic Lloyd confirmed after a few seconds.

“Alright, Vic, prep a stim shot safe for a kid his age and we’ll see if that wakes him up. Once he’s conscious, we’ll administer glucagon and try to get some fluids in his system.”

Vader took a moment to appreciate the professionalism being displayed. The hangar bay was hardly an ideal setting for this but both of the medics were quick without being frantic and as Medic Lloyd administered the stim shot into Luke's upper arm, Vader couldn’t help but privately wonder if this was how all parents felt when being presented with their child for the first time.

Frazzled and flustered and completely unprepared.

After ten or twenty nerve-wracking seconds, Luke groaned, shifting uneasily on the workbench. His little face scrunched up in discomfort and with some obvious effort he finally blinked his eyes open again. Vader immediately felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest and was endlessly relieved when Luke's Force signature slowly brightened. 

“Hey kiddo,” Medic Lenbri said gently, briefly shining her light pen into Luke’s eyes. “Pupils are reacting normally.” She reported calmly. “My name is Sanava and I’m here to help you out, okay? Can you tell me if anything hurts?”

Luke’s Force presence twitched in his hold, flickering with dazed confusion as the child struggled to process what was happening. He whimpered helplessly, his eyes flooding with tears. “I… I want my auntie –" Luke cried, lifting a hand to weakly rub at his eyes with his fist. “I want Beru.”

“I know,” Medic Lenbri soothed. “We’ll get you back to her as soon as we can, kiddo. But right now, can you help me out and tell me if anything hurts?”

“Um…” Luke lulled his head to the side, searching instinctively for something… or someone familiar to him. Pain and discomfort and fear flickered along their bond and before he’d consciously decided to, Vader stepped forward once again to stand next to the head of the table where Luke could see him. He crouched down low and then their eyes met through the lenses of his mask once again. 

It was like an electric charge. A thrill went through him and his heart fluttered with emotions. He was immediately greeted with the same, fuzzy impressions of family-who are you-safe?-Beru-home as before.

Family, Vader agreed with a soft, fluttering whisper. He reached out with one hand to gently smooth Luke's hair back, marveling at how much his little son resembled him... or Anakin, when he'd been nothing but a boy. Safe, he promised.

He sent the same little tapping pulses of calm calm calm that he had used earlier through their bond and was rewarded seconds later by Luke slowly relaxing as trust – innocent and uncomplicated trust - began to replace fear.

“Does anything hurt, Luke?” Vader repeated, his voice rumbling.

Sniffling, Luke nodded miserably. “…m’head. And… and my tummy hurts.” He said softly after a few seconds of thought. 

Not surprising. Both were easily explained by the low blood sugar and lack of food and they could be easily fixed. “Anything else?” Vader prompted gently.

“...um, n-no? I… I don't think so.”

Good.

He relaxed a little to hear it but just the same, Vader quietly swept his Force presence over Luke, scanning him for anything that felt out of place or that might not be immediately recognizable. His signature certainly felt... off, somehow, but there was nothing else immediately concerning that Vader could sense. The stimulant was doing its job well. 

"We've prepared a glucagon shot for the boy, Lord Vader."

Vader glanced up at Medic Lenbri and nodded his approval. She stepped forward and swabbed Luke's upper forearm. "This will only pinch, just a little." She warned, giving Luke a gentle smile before quickly administering the shot. Luke's face scrunched, but he was still too weak to really protest. "We should see improvements in about ten minutes, my Lord Vader."

Ten minutes. 

Why did ten minutes feel like such a long time? 

He wanted improvements now. 

Instead, Vader was forced to exercise patience. 

He hated being patient.

If he wasn’t wearing his damned mask, Vader would have scrubbed his face in absolute frustration. Instead, he kept whispering calm and safe along their bond, petting Luke's hair with all the gentleness he could. He had no idea what he was supposed to do about any of this. Nothing about today was going to plan and he didn't know what to do. It wasn't a feeling that he was accustomed to having anymore. But even if nothing else made any sense, it still stood that Luke needed to be kept safe. He could start that now, even from here.

Vader glanced over his shoulder to look around the hangar, spreading his Force presence out and searching for anyone present who might have divided loyalties between him and Palpatine. He had tried his best to cull the herd over the years, so to speak, and get rid of the emperor’s spies through strategy but he was certain there would always be a few who slipped through the cracks. 

There were one… perhaps even two presences nearby that felt off. Somewhat cloudy, as though they were trying to hide their thoughts. Even non-Force sensitives could learn how to shield their minds and it was a decent enough indicator that they could be one of Palpatine’s spies. Whoever they were, they would need to be dealt with quickly; they always knew to act quickly when reporting to Palpatine and that could not be allowed to happen. A quick interrogation would be in order to confirm his suspicions, and if they turned out to be true, then he would use the opportunity to discover if they knew the identities of any other spies that were on board as well. 

Ten minutes. 

“Will he be able to be moved at that time?” Vader asked. 

“Yes, I believe so.” Medic Lenbri agreed, casting another side glance at him.

Good. 

Luke needed to be removed from public sight sooner rather than later while he figured out what he was dealing with. Medical wasn't exactly his first choice but there were several of the old 501st who could take over as security detail while Vader was busy trying to find out what exactly had happened to his son.

Vader curled his Force presence around Luke’s a little more and then took a moment to search out Piett and saw that while the hangar bay was certainly not empty, many of the personnel had been ushered to the opposite side of the hangar in order to give the medics room to work and as much quiet as could be offered in this kind of setting. There were several of the 501st posted at the exits to ensure that no one left before they were authorized to do so. The admiral was discreetly speaking with one of the ensigns, gesturing to the security cameras.

Piett was trustworthy. And loyal to him before anyone else. He was someone that Vader was confident would assist him in the event that he tried to take over the Empire, as were many of those in positions of power on board the Executor. It was part of the reason that he had promoted him to the position of admiral in the first place. Vader caught his eye and motioned for him to come over. 

The admiral nodded and patted the young man he was speaking with on the shoulder before walking confidently towards them. 

"Yes, my lord?" He asked once he was close enough.

Vader stood up slowly and gestured towards Luke. "Keep an eye on him for a few minutes." He ordered quietly. "Medic Lenbri."

She lifted her eyes and then stood at attention. "Sir?"

“With me.”

Vader stepped to the side until he felt he could speak where Luke, and others who might be tempted to listen in, would hopefully be out of earshot. The woman followed him and didn't flinch when he turned to her. Her thoughts were calm and professional. 

“What are your first impressions? Be specific.” Vader asked, resting his hands in their customary spot on his belt.

She blinked and glanced towards where her partner and the admiral were keeping an eye on Luke and trying to engage him in some light conversation it seemed. Luke’s thoughts still felt hazy and confused… but there was improvement. 

“Well." Medic Lenbri hesitated for a moment and then pushed her confusion away. "Quite frankly, his body chemistry is completely out of sorts… I’m not entirely certain of the cause, sir. The hypoglycemia explains the majority of his symptoms and he is responding well enough to the vitamin/stimulant booster that we administered, as well as the glucagon. I would still recommend a few additional tests in order to assess the other abnormalities but overall, I believe he’ll be alright after a good meal and some sleep.”

That was relieving to hear. Vader wasn’t exactly an expert but he imagined that the abnormalities could be explained by the fact that Luke was four instead of twenty-three. Whatever process his son had undergone to be at this age now had likely put an incredible strain on his body.

“What about physically?”

“He has some bruises which seem to be a few days old but no broken bones or other signs of edema. And, obviously the transradial amputation on the lower right arm. It does not appear to be terribly recent and as far as I can tell, it healed quite well. There are connector ports which have already been surgically placed for a prosthetic, which is a little unusual, given his age. Most physicians would recommend waiting until he was older but of course, that recommendation may vary depending on individual practice and planet-side policy.”

The arm was irrelevant in this circumstance – Vader knew the incident where it had occurred and had had one of his spies in the rebellion send him Luke’s medical reports following Bespin. The surgery and attachment of his prosthetic had been textbook and there had been no complications.

Vader glanced back towards Luke again. He was sitting up now and looked more lively than he had even just a minute or so ago. He was huddled in on himself; unease, loneliness, and maybe a hint of curiosity were the primary emotions whispering along their open bond. Vader watched for a long moment as Luke was offered a sucker by the other attending medic and then as he hesitantly accepted it.

In the span of less than an hour, all of his priorities had completely shifted and for the first time since he’d pledged loyalty to Palpatine over twenty years ago, he was orbiting a new star.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Luke out of harm's way.

Palpatine and the rest of the galaxy could go to hell.

But the image of the weequay captain pulling the male togruta off his child was burned into his memory. That lousy, worthless piece of filth would suffer all the unimaginable pains that Vader could force him to suffer.

Still, it… begged another question. 

“What about other forms of trauma?” Vader bit out, mindful to keep his voice low.

“If you are referring to any forms of sexual abuse, I honestly couldn’t say.” Medic Lenbri offered apologetically. “That is outside my area of expertise and I don’t want to be accused of making assumptions where it is not my place to do so. However, there are others in the medical bay who could evaluate him properly and make that diagnosis for you." 

Vader wasn’t entirely certain that he wanted that diagnosis made simply because he feared what the answer would end up being. It was too terrible for him to even consider. But if by some unthinkable chance, it ended up being true, then the galaxy would shortly come to know what it was like to truly experience his wrath. He would be on the warpath for anyone and everyone who had had a hand in hurting his son in such a foul, loathsome, and unforgivable way. 

He felt his emotions turn black just thinking about it. 

"Once his readings stabilize, we can have him transported to medical and alert someone to get started on locating his family."

"That… that is acceptable.” Vader ground out reluctantly, if only for the sake of appearances. It would cause a stir, him taking a child to the medical bay. There would be whispers and confusion, and as much as Luke's safety was his first, second, and third priority now, he… he needed to clean house before anyone slipped through the cracks. To calm down and have a moment to think clearly and process. “Inform medical staff that he will be arriving shortly. Brief them on the situation but do not use the boy’s name over any Executor channels.”

Medic Lenbri opened her mouth but then hesitated. "Yes, sir. Is there anything... else?"

Vader paused. “Not presently.”

“Of course, sir.”

He dipped his head once and then left Medic Lenbri to follow his instructions, turning to walk back to Luke.

Piett straightened up respectfully though Vader didn’t truly have eyes for anyone except his son. Luke was still sucking on his candy and his eyes brightened as Vader approached even if his expression remained shy. The color in his face seemed better and more of the haziness of his thoughts had cleared too.

His son. 

Vader could still feel his heart racing with emotions that he didn’t dare try and name. All he could think was that the tiny, vulnerable, innocent person before him now was his and that he had no idea what to do with him. He didn't know how to be a father and he felt as stumped and as stunned as he had the day that Padmé had revealed to him that she was pregnant. 

It had seemed more achievable back then too; with Padmé at his side, his other and better half... how hard could it have been? It was an adventure he had been looking forward to, even if it had been clouded by his fear for Padmé's safety. 

But that was then. 

That was before he had helped create the Empire. Before he had become the monster that he now was.

"Can he be moved to medical now?" Vader asked, directing his question at the other med tech. In the Force, he sent Luke a quiet greeting and was rewarded with an uncertain flutter of acknowledgement in return. The effort brought a rare smile to Vader’s lips. 

“Yes, sir. He’s still a little sluggish, but he’s stable.”

“Then admiral, clear the halls and alert security.”

“Of course, sir.” Piett gave Luke a strange look and then stepped a short distance away, speaking into his comm radio. 

The med techs both stepped out of the way and for a moment, it was just him and Luke. Vader felt torn in two - part of him wanted to scoop Luke up in his arms and never let him go... and the other part of him wanted to turn around and run, terrified of ruining something utterly precious. It was what he was good at, after all. 

“Am… am I going home now?” Luke asked, staring up at him hopefully. 

Vader shook his head. “No. Not yet, little one.” He felt oddly guilty when Luke’s expression fell. “You are… going to see someone who will make sure you are not sick.” 

Luke blinked, unease fluttering nervously between them. He glanced around the hangar bay again, his thoughts racing with questions and fear. Little flickers of scary-Beru-home-strangers-cold-family whispered unknowingly along their bond and out loud, Luke asked, “...but - are… are you gonna come with me?”

He should say yes. 

It would be easy.

The two potential spies would be easy to pick out of the crowd now that he knew they were there and he could have security escort them to the detention cells while he went with Luke to medical. It was what he should do... but in the same instant, Padmé's voice was whispering in his mind from so long ago, begging him - pleading with him -  

Stop, stop now. Come back! I love you!

Vader froze, the memory feeling the freshest it had in years. It had been the last time that he had loved someone - she had begged him to go with her and Vader had destroyed her. 

The situations were different. Completely different.

But Luke was still asking Vader to go with him. He reached up at him anxiously with both arms - like, like he was asking to be held and Vader couldn’t - he didn’t hold children. He would always hurt the ones that he loved. Luke’s missing hand was proof of that now and this little child was not the young man he was supposed to be - the one who would boldly go up against Vader’s darkness and come out on the other side in more or less one piece. 

“I cannot.” Vader heard himself say. For the first time, he turned away from Luke, unable to stand the sight of his eyes welling up with tears. “Admiral, see to it personally that the boy makes it to medical and do not let him out of your sight. Inform them of the situation when you get there. I want to know how this happened.”

Then he strode away, unclipping his lightsaber as he did so and tuning in to the thoughts and feelings of everyone around them, searching for the ones that didn’t belong. 

He had things to do.

Chapter Text

The two men were some of Palpatine’s spies and after ripping through their thoughts and tearing their minds to absolute shreds, Vader had seen enough to know that only one of them had had the intuition to actually follow him in here and see what it was that had stolen his attention so abruptly. The other worked in the hangar bay itself and neither of them had clearly seen Luke or knew who he was. 

Both of them were dead now. 

As were three other contacts that they had known of who had been placed strategically throughout the ship. 

Vader had hunted each of them down and disposed of them before having their remains thrown out of an airlock and into the vast expanse of space. He spent some time searching for others but had come up dry. It was a stroke of luck that these ones had known anything about the others at all; most of the time, they knew of only one or two solid contacts on board and Vader had managed to get rid of five. He had had thoughts of going down to the detention cells and dealing with the slavers but ultimately decided against it. The interrogation had been scheduled for tomorrow and Vader was certain that if he went down there now, he would just tear everyone to pieces. 

It would have to be enough that none of them were going anywhere for the time being. Let them starve and stew in their fear for a few hours. It was no less than what they deserved and the waiting before an interrogation was often just as important as the interrogation itself. There was much that he needed to know before any of them would be allowed to die. 

Once Vader was finished… it had been his intention to go to the medical bay. 

Luke was there and he should be present. If anything had ever been his business, it was this. 

But after a few minutes, he realized that his feet had taken him to his hyperbaric chamber without him even realizing it. He felt horribly claustrophobic the second he laid eyes on it and he needed to escape the cage that was his suit and mask, even if just for a little bit. He waved his hand, activating the mechanisms that kept the pod closed before stepping in and sitting down in the well worn leather chair. 

The chamber sealed itself once again after a few seconds and the air itself pressurized once again. His mask came off at last and Vader carefully avoided looking up at all the medical tools and torture instruments that kept him in working condition for the emperor. Instead, he pressed his face into his hands and tried to focus on the air entering into his lungs.

It was a small relief - but a relief nonetheless - to breathe of his own accord and volition. 

How was he supposed to do this?

For as much as Luke was biologically his son… he wasn’t a father. He didn’t know what to do with a child and this was not how things were supposed to go. It threw everything off - if Luke’s condition were to be reported to the emperor then it would put Vader on the defensive with Palpatine rather than the offensive the way that he had hoped. Instead of having an able partner and ally who could assist him in getting rid of his master… he had a small child that needed to be protected. 

It made him feel vulnerable in a way that he was wholly unaccustomed to... and it was forcing him to acknowledge how very high the stakes were. There was someone left for him to lose. Everyone he had ever loved had been taken from him - but despite all of his crimes, through some stroke of unbelievable luck and fortune... he had Luke. 

A son. 

His son. 

Padmé’s son. 

Luke was the only one that was left now and the only thing that mattered. There was no room for error in any of this.   

He had kept a mental eye on Luke since leaving him in the admiral's care, monitoring him for any drastic changes in his overall health but had stayed far enough away that he wasn’t being peppered with his son's emotions or Luke with his. It gave him the opportunity to try and think. To try and figure out… something.  It was suddenly exhausting, how many things he now felt that he had to deal with.

He needed to figure out how such a transformation was possible and how to return his son to his proper age.

He couldn’t let Palpatine find out.

Search for the rebellion.

He needed to run the Executor .

Protect the developing Death Star. 

Keep Luke safe and out of harms way.

Vader pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to avoid the gash that ran along the back of his head and closed his eyes to think. 

…

…

…

…

…

…the Kaminoans. 

The cloning technology. 

That could be something to look into, Vader realized after a few minutes. The Kaminoans had grown millions upon millions of clones during the Clone Wars. It had been a foul business, creating and raising men up for nothing except slaughter. An old, almost forgotten anger rose up from the ashes inside of him - it pissed him off just thinking about it. But… perhaps it was possible that the genetic technology they had created could reduce someone’s age as well as it could advance it at an accelerated speed. 

There was the issue of obtaining that information from them without raising any red flags, if they even had it, but… in any case, it would be somewhere for him to start if the slavers were truly a dead end. And any hint of a direction was better than nothing. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts only when the commlink on his belt began to buzz. A quick glance at it revealed that it was the admiral attempting to contact him. 

Vader opened it instantly. “What is it?” He demanded. His voice was raspy and weaker without his vocoder but the admiral had heard it before. 

“Lord Vader -" Admiral Piett paused briefly as a child’s high pitched wail sounded from his side of the commlink. “Your presence is being requested in the medical bay.”

Vader made it to the medical bay in record time and would have left a small trail of destruction in his haste to get there had he not actively been trying to keep the whole situation with Luke from being completely known throughout the ship. 

The admiral had not elaborated on what was happening, only informed him that their 'guest' was in a private med-room towards the back of the medical bay and that Vader was being requested. He stalked his way through the long corridors, a dark looming presence - every bit the frightful specter that everyone on board considered him to be. He ignored those personnel who pressed themselves up against the walls in order to get out of his path and avoid him. Their fear and wariness saturated the Force and another day it might have even been amusing. 

But a different person held his attention now, one whose fear and unhappiness was making his own cold heart clench in anxious concern. The door and room number that he was looking for finally came into view and with a wave of his hand, it opened up for him.

Vader froze mid-step, the sight in front of him catching him completely off-guard.

Luke was sobbing. 

Gut-wrenchingly forceful sobs - in the midst of a full blown meltdown. 

He was sitting on a medical exam table, layered with one of those stupid pieces of tissue paper, surrounded by medical personnel; two doctors in white coats and a few nurses with charts and other instruments who were talking to each other over the sound of his wailing son. The noise was perhaps the only reason that everyone present did not seem to immediately acknowledge his presence. The admiral was also in the room, standing against the wall looking tired and frustrated and perhaps a little out of his depth. He noticed Vader’s presence first and stood up straighter; but the admiral was not the subject of his ire. 

“What happened?” Vader heard himself snarl. 

One of the doctors looked up and immediately stood at attention, offering him a brisk salute. The others followed suit and Vader decided that they all had three seconds to drop their salute and answer his damn question before they experienced a very abrupt departure from life. 

“The boy is - he is being most difficult, sir -"

“He’s four,” Vader snapped, finally stepping into the room at last. He hadn’t actually confirmed his son's age but intuitively, he knew that it was true.

“Well, yes but - ”

“He’s a child and you are supposed to be a professional. Why is he crying?”

Luke looked up at him as he approached and began sobbing anew, his eyes welling with even more tears. Fear and exhaustion rolled off of him in sickening waves. He didn’t reach for Vader this time although he could sense that his little son wanted to. Something inside of him twisted with guilt. The ragged scraps of clothes that Luke had been wearing earlier were gone and had been replaced with a small medical gown that went down to his knees; it was better than what he’d had but it made Luke seem especially small and showcased the colorful bruises on his arms. 

It was one of the most pathetic sights he’d seen in a long, long time. 

Without thinking about it, Vader moved so that he was standing beside the exam table and placed his hand cautiously on top of Luke’s head and smoothing his hair before resting his hand on his back. It was nothing - only the bare minimum of comfort but just like earlier, Luke snagged on to his arm with his one hand and sidled closer to him, turning his face into his arm for protection.

“My lord, if - if you could just get him to stop crying,” one of the male nurses said. “He won’t hold still and we would rather not have to sedate him so that we can perform our tests.”

"Absolutely not," Vader said instantly, causing their nervousness to grow. Unless there was no other available option, there was no way that he was going to let them sedate his child. "If you were competent in your jobs then that would not be necessary to even consider.”

Why was everything chaos? Why did everything only run smoothly if he was personally there to ensure that it did? 

“My lord,” Admiral Piett addressed him for the first time, seeming perfectly aware of his growing anger. “When I explained to the medical personnel who the boy is, they felt that, given the Empire’s urgency in searching for him, that you would prioritize figuring out what had happened over his more, ahem, immediate needs.”

The admiral’s personal feelings and his own doubtful thoughts made it clear that he did not think that they were correct in their judgment. 

“We… we – we’re trying our best to figure it out.” Someone stuttered, also picking up on his growing anger. “And it is not out of a lack of concern for his well-being. There are certain tests and examinations which require a period of fasting before we can perform them and we felt, given the circumstances, that we would perform those ones now and protect him from enduring this over and over again later. But you have to understand - this, this is completely unprecedented -”

“ - a medical mystery - ”

“ - revolutionary, even - ” 

That was quite enough of that. 

“What I understand is that my son collapsed in the hangar bay after being pulled off of a slave ship less than three hours ago and that he requires medical attention.” Vader interrupted dangerously, silencing them. “All of you are failing in your collective responsibility and I do not tolerate failure."

One could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Shock, disbelief, and so many other racing emotions quickly permeated the Force; even the admiral stood up straighter, his sharp eyes widening in uncharacteristic surprise. 

“Y-your son?” Someone squeaked out. 

“Commander Skywalker is my son,” Vader confirmed. "Not a science project for you or anyone else to study."

Another silence followed as all present attempted to grasp and come to terms with the knowledge he’d given them. 

Vader was not certain whether or not Luke understood and truthfully, it wasn’t a priority for him to know at the moment either. If the situation persisted, which, Vader had an uneasy feeling that it just might - then he would do his best to explain their relationship later, privately. For now, all he wanted to know was whether or not Luke was healthy and unharmed. He wanted him fed and comfortable and safe; not weeping and frightened.

No one reacted. No one even seemed to dare move and there was only that same stunned disbelief which permeated the Force. 

“Well?” Vader snapped impatiently. They were lucky he was only snapping with his tone - he’d prefer to snap a few necks at this point. 

The doctor in charge - Läkare - jumped into a fumbling sort of action and his team with him, choking out apologies and scrambling to regain some semblance of control. It felt like chaos with the sound of drawers and cupboards opening and closing, people shuffling about, charts being flipped through and overlapping conversations about how best to proceed and what was more important - it was beyond irritating to witness and their uneasiness and surprise was clearing concerning Luke as well, who was too little to understand the cause. 

Vader felt his tenuous patience finally snap entirely when Luke flinched and pulled back from one of the nurses as he approached and a quick, flashing image that was a strange mixture between the togruta from the Antioch and the med staff currently present reaching for his son shot between their Force bond. The two medics from earlier hadn’t evoked such a reaction. They had been quiet and professional in their duties and Luke had been calm. Not happy and not unafraid, but neither of them had prompted such obvious fear from him. 

It would not stand.

“I want someone else.” Vader said, making a snap decision. “All of you are relieved as of right now. Doctor Läkare, summon Kix. Have him come here and take over and then get out.”

There was another flurry of movement as people professionally scrambled to contact Kix and others. He tuned it all out, and refocused his attention on Luke. He was still clinging pathetically to his arm, tears streaming down his face. 

He couldn’t kill anyone with Luke around. It was, unfortunately, an additional trauma his son did not need right now. That… and Vader didn’t typically kill medical personnel as a general rule either. But if this team was going to be so… so damn incompetent and cause this much of a scene with a four year old, then at the very least, Vader would replace them with someone else. He barely noticed when the door to the medical room closed behind them.

He didn't know how to do this. 

“Little one...? Child, what’s wrong?"

The question sounded so... wrong, coming from him. He wasn't a father - he shouldn't be here, he didn't know what to do and -

“Y-ou… you said - “ Luke cried, barely able to choke out the words. The faint sense of an absolute pounding headache and a miserable, aching hunger flickered in the back of his mind and his guilt surged anew, further proof that he was wrong for this. He should have been more specific in his instructions. Even if it was urgent that he figured this whole mess out… what Luke needed should have come first. A good meal, a bath, and the chance to sleep. That had been his plan before his own fears and insecurities had taken hold of him. 

It was all Luke needed right now.

Luke sucked in a hiccupping breath, shaking as he tried and failed to calm down. “Y- you said t-that you would… would s-stay with me!”  

Vader froze, feeling like a bantha caught in a speeder light. “I - I did say that.”

He had. He’d told Luke that he’d keep him safe and then sent him off with complete strangers without so much as a goodbye or an assurance that everything would be okay. 

Luke broke down again, tiredly rubbing his eyes with his fist, his chest heaving. Pictures - flashes, images and fuzzy memories of things that had scared him were flickering between them; lonely-tired-scared-hungry-Beru-home-cold-head hurts- tummy hurts- lonely-lonely-lonely

It was a lot. Too much for any child to know how to deal with alone. 

Before he consciously decided to do anything, Vader picked Luke up under the armpits, holding his son out in front of him awkwardly - what was he… how was he supposed to do this…?

It had been such a long time - a lifetime even. He shouldn’t be holding Luke now - the younglings he had slaughtered and his own son's missing right hand was more than enough evidence that he was a monster - and… and… and Luke was just frightened. Scared and lonely and thrown into a situation where he was surrounded by strangers and forced to seek comfort from the only family member he had available to him, even if it was one that he didn’t know. 

Vader wasn’t practiced in any of this. 

But… Luke was his and he could try. He would try. 

Swallowing back his nerves and all the many reasons why he was completely wrong for this, Vader slowly brought Luke close to his chest and felt as his son quickly latched on to him, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, clinging to him tightly and sniffling with emotions. 

Vader shifted his hold, propping Luke up with one arm and then lifting his other to slowly begin rubbing Luke’s back, the same way that his mother had used to do for him, whispering wordless assurances to him through the Force. 

“It’s alright, little one. I have you.” He promised, internally wincing at how harsh his voice sounded. “Calm down.”

“I - I, I wanna go home!” Luke cried miserably, heaving those same deep shuddering breaths that seemed to wrack his whole body. "I want Beru!”

“I know,” Vader said automatically. “Just breathe, Luke. In and out. Just breathe. I will not let anything happen to you."

That was a promise he felt determined to keep and, moving forward, he would. 

It took a few minutes before Luke's crying began to taper off - though Vader suspected it was due more to exhaustion than it was from the comfort that Vader was attempting to give. The room had been cleared entirely but Vader could sense that no one had gone very far, their presences lingering out in the hallway. There was nothing except stunned disbelief at the forefront of everyone's thoughts. 

It was a chaotic jumble of Skywalker-Vader-a son-what the hell-he’s human-an actual son- Skywalker -it doesn’t make sense-Skywalker….

Vader closed his eyes for a few seconds. 

So much for keeping that a secret. But even still, he wasn't certain how he could keep Luke a complete secret while he was on the Executor. He could contain it and have all in-coming and outgoing communications monitored. Eliminate threats. But it wasn't as if he could just lock his son in a room and hide him away. 

Children needed interaction. Physical touch. Love. 

For as much as Anakin had considered certain droids as family to him, they were no substitute for actual human interaction. It wouldn’t be fair to assign a droid to babysit a frightened child and have the only sentient interaction for him to be between a monster and medical staff. Vader had always intended to introduce Luke - the adult version, anyways - to the men under his command as his son. He had never quite figured out when the timing of that revelation would occur but as far as Vader was concerned, Luke was the heir to the Empire. Vader had created it for his family to rule. 

Perhaps… perhaps…. 

His mind wandered down different trains of thought, rejecting and considering many different options and possibilities. But mostly, Vader was focused on Luke and how the weight of his small body felt in his arms. Slowly, his little son began to be soothed, lacking the energy to be so upset for very long. Luke clung to him all the same… his head pressed against his shoulder as if Vader could keep back everything that had ever frightened him, his sobs dwindling into tired, miserable sniffles. 

A hazy thought passed between them, another flickering image from his son; not one of fear but of homesickness this time. It wasn’t terribly clear but the desire was and Vader had seen the same image before many times and so it was easy enough to figure out. 

Twin Suns in a sky that was ablaze with color. 

Without stopping to think about it, Vader sharpened the picture for Luke to see, with the faint impression of a warm desert heat. Then he sent another; the lowing of banthas from the Dunes, and a quiet sensation of how it’d felt to race through Beggar’s Canyon. Familiar things. Safe things. 

Luke relaxed a little more, sniffling and 'watching' the pictures with a sad, but comforted sort of longing. 

The doors to the medical bay slid open only moments later as both the admiral and Kix stepped inside together at last. They were speaking quietly to one another and Vader watched them both, whispering calm and safe to his son as he stirred somewhat from his rest. He didn’t have to wait for very long. 

Kix froze mid step just past the doorway, taking in the sight of Vader holding a small child with very wide eyes. A veteran of the 501st through and through, having seen more gruesome things than most, and being a loyal soldier to Vader himself, his surprise was a testament to the situation as a whole.

Fortunately for everyone, he quickly put on an air of professionality. “Lord Vader," he greeted politely and cautiously, staring at Luke with cautious curiosity. "Who do we have here?” 

“This is my son.” Vader said without hesitation. He had very little patience for beating around the bush on a good day and his little son had waited for assistance long enough. “Commander Luke Skywalker.”

Kix blinked and there was a stunned, uncomprehending silence before a strange sort of realization replaced it in the Force. Clearly, the admiral knew well enough to keep this contained to whoever Vader chose to reveal it to. “Your… son?” 

“Yes.”

Anakin Skywalker. Darth Vader. Anakin Skywalker. Darth Vader. 

Vader quickly tuned Kix’s thoughts out, trying not to be irritated at the forcefulness of that name being directed his way, even just in thought-form. Fortunately, Kix was an experienced veteran and he pushed those thoughts aside quickly, tucking them away to deal with later. 

“Alive and unharmed,” Kix huffed, scrubbing his jaw in disbelief. “...I guess that answers a few questions.” He licked his lips and blew out a steadying breath. “How can I be of assistance, my lord?”

“My son was pulled off of a slave ship. The… issue… of his current age can wait until a later time but given the nature of slavers and their primary interest in children, I need to know if and how he was harmed.” 

Kix nodded in understanding, his eyes dark. “I can certainly arrange for that to happen. But if something like that is to be done properly, it will take about two standard hours.” Vader pursed his lips, glancing down at Luke. He was still awake but he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He had hoped for a far quicker diagnosis. As of now, he didn’t know if Luke had two hours in him.

The door was pushed open again and a shiny medical droid calmly entered, with a small tray of food. It looked like a light meal, things that wouldn't upset a sensitive stomach. The droid set the food down on a side table and it briefly explained what it all was and the benefits for Luke moving forward before leaving again and Vader set Luke down so that he could eat. Something tense and irritated eased inside of him a little as he watched Luke eat a much needed meal.  

Kix excused himself, disappearing for a good ten minutes before returning just as Luke was finishing up. “I spoke with the other medical staff, and as poorly as it may have been done, they did cover most of his important vitals and they took several samples already, blood and saliva included. Some lab work is being conducted now to see if it will tell us what happened, as well.”

Vader was quiet, not entirely pacified towards the other medical staff but not having the time to be more annoyed than he already was and trying to decide what the best course of action for Luke was. From somewhere out in the hall, there was a sudden bang and the quiet sound of someone cursing. Luke startled at the noise, flinching slightly and then lifted his head to peer around the room anxiously. 

Safe. Vader whispered soothingly. Just rest, little one. I have you.

Luke hesitated, his little brow crinkling with uncertainty. His face was pale and stained with dried tears and he reached for Vader to pick him up once more, which he did.

“Hey, kiddo.” Kix offered Luke a small wave and a smile. In response, Luke quickly turned his face into Vader’s chest, ignoring Kix entirely. His thoughts had grown quieter too, a sad mixture of lonely-tired-home-Beru. But there was also something else now too; something bordering on the lines of contentment for at least having Vader for company, if just for the moment. 

Kix made a sympathetic expression. “Alright buddy,” he said simply. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to talk to anyone either. Not after the day you’ve had. It would be a lot for anyone to handle, huh?”

Predictably, Luke said nothing but no one really expected him to either.

“What, then, would you suggest, Kix?” 

There was a momentary pause.

“I honestly don’t know if we’ll get much out of him right now.” Kix finally said with a slight shrug. “Nor do I think that subjecting him to anything more than necessary is wise.” He knelt down and pulled out a medical scanner from his bag and switched it on before standing up again. “Let me just see… what this thing can tell me.” He said, running the device along the length of Luke’s body.

A few seconds later, it beeped, and Kix pulled it away again. 

“Alright, well. He is still dehydrated and his body chemistry is nowhere near being at what constitutes normal. I’ll look more into the abnormalities with a team and report back to you. But he is stable and except for missing a few meals, he seems in decent enough shape too. I can arrange for the SANE examination to take place tomorrow and we can go from there."

Luke slumped more fully against him, resting his cheek against his shoulder. Vader sensed more than saw his eyes flutter closed only seconds later and felt the shift in his breathing suggesting that he was finally asleep. 

There was nothing else that needed to be done right now that couldn’t be done at a later time. 

“That is acceptable.” Turning, Vader said, “Admiral. See to it that security measures are updated appropriately throughout the ship. For the time being, no one outside this ship can know that my son is onboard the Executor. Contain it as best as you can. Wipe the security cameras if you have not already done so and screen anyone who has seen him for questionable loyalties.”

The admiral’s eyes drifted to Luke, lingering on him for several long seconds. “...yes, my lord. I… I will see to the details.”

“I expect you will. I will summon you later for a more in-depth discussion.”

Vader dismissed them both with a wave of his hand and then exited the exam room behind them. He ordered for an appropriate meal to be available for when his son woke up again and then stretched out into the Force, searching briefly for somewhere quiet where they wouldn’t be disturbed and then made his way deeper into the medical bay, leaving the others in his wake. The Force pointed him in the right direction and he quickly found a quiet recovery room in a more isolated area and entered, closing the door behind him.

There was a master bedroom set up and prepared for Luke on his own private floor; he had it made in the event that he ever caught up to his son and managed to convince him to join him at his side. It was elaborate and decorative and everything that a young man could want or need. 

It wasn’t… quite set up for a child though. 

Vader could try to start fixing that tomorrow. Somehow. For now, he lowered Luke gently onto the med bed that was set up against the wall so that his head was resting on the pillow. Then he pulled the crisp, plain white sheets over on top of him and tucked them around him gently. It struck him once again how very small Luke was. Nothing but a little boy; Vader had almost forgotten that this kind of innocence even existed. His son stayed asleep the entire time, though he still shifted and turned on his side, his thumb easily finding its way into his mouth.

It was painfully adorable. Another smile - something he had done more today than he had in the last twenty years combined - twitched at his lips. After a few seconds, Vader pried it gently out again, and tucked Luke’s arm underneath the sheets before smoothing his hair back gently one final time. Finally, summoning a nearby chair, Vader awkwardly sat down at the end of the bed and committed himself to all-night vigil.

Chapter Text

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity and emotion, as well as time spent doing relatively little. Vader was unaccustomed to sitting around doing nothing and the disruption of his personal routine was manageable… but also more stress inducing than he had anticipated. It had also caused some whispers and rumors aboard the Executor to spread more than they already had. 

A simple enough price to pay, all things considered; everything could have turned out so much worse, after all. 

There were no words to explain the sheer relief that Vader had felt when his little son had been cleared and declared healthy by the medical practitioners, and despite some truly evil intentions on part of the Antioch’s crew, had suffered no more abuse than missing a few meals and some minor aches and pains.

The galaxy had been spared his wrath a thousand times over. For now, at least. It was the possibilities and what if’s - those things that might have happened - that were haunting him. It was relentless and it was making him irritable. Vader was not unfamiliar with ghosts from the past haunting him - he had seen her and many others over the years in the corner of his eyes and in those moments of quiet when he meditated. They whispered things, true things, everything that could have been but… he had always found a way to tune them out.

This was different though. 

Luke was not dead. Those things did not happen and they never would happen because Vader would be there to ensure that they didn’t. He would protect Luke with his life but those facts didn’t seem to matter. Even with his son safe in his care, Vader could not put those things out of his mind. He was uncertain whether or not it was because of his own inability to let go of his anger or just the fact that he was now the parent of a vulnerable child and was merely acting within his rights to take this all very personally.

Perhaps it was both. But this… all the things that could have happened… it was worth being angry about. A small, tiny voice in the back of his mind occasionally tried to whisper that he was only angry at himself - because if Luke had always been his, if he had raised him first, if the Empire had never… well, then there would never have been this possibility to contend with. 

The quiet voice was an easy enough voice to ignore. Vader had been ignoring it for a long time. Besides, someone should be angry that such evils were rampant in the galaxy and Vader ached to wipe out everyone and anyone that had ever had the inclination to do harm to such innocents. He was determined, in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time, that he would lead that charge and put an end to it all, and soon. 

But… for the moment, Luke needed him more and he was forced to set his anger aside and temper his rage, if only for his sake. 

After twenty years of fueling his anger and finding power in his misery and suffering and the suffering of others, it was decidedly… strange. And it made Vader feel quite powerless to realize that all the anger and power in the galaxy was of no benefit to him or to his son now. 

What Luke needed most was rest and a quiet place to recover from his experiences. That was something that Vader could provide and after being discharged from medical, his son had spent the last two days mostly sleeping under Vader’s own watchful eye or otherwise lying down on the sofa in their now shared living space, watching cartoons and eating various snacks that had been recommended to help him regain some lost weight. 

As for everything else, well… the mystery of his current condition was still a mystery. No one was any closer to discovering what or who it was that had done this to him and Vader had not discovered anything useful in his own careful probing of Luke’s memory either; most prominently were memories of Tatooine and of Owen and Beru Lars. It was as though childhood for his son was now rather than over twenty years ago. 

Neither Vader, nor anyone else, had any idea what sort of technology could accomplish such a feat and it might have even been fascinating were it not his son that were a victim to it. As it were, he wanted it undone. The total age and mental regression would have concerned him more than it was… except during his initial search, Vader had sensed… or at least thought that he had sensed something that felt like more… a jumbled cloud of… of something - and he suspected that it was where the rest of Luke’s memories and experiences were. 

Not gone, but perhaps inaccessible whilst in his current childhood state. There was mental resistance going that direction and Vader was hesitant to search any deeper than what Luke’s unconscious mind was willing to tell him, lest he cause him any harm. 

It could be undone. 

He was certain that it could be. He just had to figure it all out and find the ones responsible. 

There didn’t seem to be too many other side-effects of the change itself either. Luke was a healthy and clever child. The only real cause for concern was that there had been two other instances where his blood sugar had dropped dramatically, prompting an episode similar to the one in the hangar bay on the first day, without any apparent cause. 

There was nothing in any of Luke’s medical records, recent or otherwise, to suggest that he had any form of hypoglycemia and he certainly wasn’t a diabetic. Kix and his team were working on identifying the cause and it was an easy enough thing to manage. Vader just had to keep reminding himself that it all could have been much worse. 

It still frustrated him to no end to have to witness his son feeling so unwell.

Everything that had happened forced him to retreat from his more active duties; which wasn’t entirely unusual. His crew was more than accustomed to him taking his own forms of sabbatical. Usually just assignments from the emperor, routine surgeries, or his own private searches for Luke, but he still disappeared on occasion. 

But never like this. Working solely from his private floors, delegating, and using holocalls to manage things he would have otherwise done it in person. It was like a whole new form of torture. Vader had learned very quickly that he absolutely detested receiving all forms of information and communication through email. It took up hours of his time and he much preferred getting it in person and not have to write all these damn responses. 

He clicked SEND on a scathing message to a lower ranking Moffs and then quickly wrote out another message to Admiral Piett to have him remind all officers, high ranking or otherwise, to follow their chain of command when dealing with petty issues or they would suffer the consequences. 

Why anyone wanted Vader to deal with their issues was beyond him and they needed to get their egos in check because none of them were or ever would be that important to him. 

Sighing, he picked another random report that he needed to finish, scanned it quickly, and got started. 

A good twenty minutes passed by in relative silence, the only sound coming from whichever HoloNet show was playing for Luke.

They had spoken very little the last few days. Just… small conversations here and there, whenever Luke was awake. But those conversations had all been short and Vader had been grateful for that. He still had no idea what he was supposed to say or do with a child. Feeding him and watching him sleep was easy enough but everything else? 

Vader shook his head.

The current arrangement wasn’t going to be able to continue forever though. Not with Luke’s strength returning the way that it was. They would need to interact with each other sometime and it was going to be sooner rather than later. 

He would figure it out. He would. 

Preferably before he caught up on his reports and had no other excuse to hide behind. 

A few more minutes passed and then there was some movement on the other side of the room. Vader briefly lifted his eyes to see that Luke was crawling out from under his blanket and climbing off the couch very carefully. He had been a little more active today, which was nice to see. Vader let a small smile cross his lips before returning his attention to his report. 

The faint sound of the bathroom door opening and then easing closed told him where Luke had gone. A minute or two passed before the toilet was flushed and the sound of the sink turning on reached his ears. It turned off again very quickly; Luke’s desert upbringing insisted that water was not something that should be wasted. Vader remembered, from a life long ago, knowing plenty of other slave children on Tatooine who’d endured harsh punishments from their masters for wasting water. The black eyes and occasional whipping and shredded skin had done plenty to prevent Anakin from ever making the same mistake. 

He doubted that Luke would have ever been punished in such a manner but it still would have been a stern lesson. 

Water was in no shortage here and Luke could have and waste whatever he wanted to as far as Vader was concerned… but there was also no point in discouraging him from doing something so simple when it harmed no one and the familiarity of the act was probably a comfort in itself. Vader only lifted his head, looking towards the bathroom door when a loud crash sounded as something clattered to the floor, followed by a very quiet, “oops”. He briefly searched along their bond and once he was satisfied that all was well and no assistance was necessary, Vader rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his work with another smile playing at his lips. 

Luke emerged not long afterwards and on the edge of his thoughts, Vader could sense his eyes watching him very intently. An overwhelming sense of uncertainty and curiosity flickered between them. Vader held still, continuing with his report and not wanting to give off the impression that he knew Luke was staring and perhaps frighten him by accident. Children were skittish that way. 

The real issue was that he and Luke didn’t know each other at all. Not as adults and not… not like this. Vader would happily protect his son from harm, would betray his master for him, and go above and beyond to provide for his needs. But he just wasn’t certain what to say to him. What was he supposed to talk about? Or do with him? 

It was a problem that he hadn’t considered ever needing to solve and like a moron, he was absolutely stumped. If Obi-Wan were alive, the bastard would be laughing at him right now. The thought made him scowl.

Reports were far easier to deal with and he quickly finished the one he was working on and then opened up another. He sensed Luke watching him for a little bit longer before he finally tip-toed off. The sounds of the HoloNet flickered and changed every few seconds as Luke began switching stations before it settled on something new. It couldn’t have been very interesting because it wasn’t very long before Vader felt a hesitant poke against the thigh of his left leg.

“Hello Luke,” he greeted dryly, glancing down. 

“Hi,” Luke said, offering him a small wave. He stepped a bit closer to him and craned his neck a little, trying to peer at the screen of his datapad. “Whatcha doin?” 

“I am reading and responding to reports.” Vader said simply, shifting said datapad more so that it was out of Luke’s reach. The last thing he needed was for a half-finished report ending in LKASFJDNVLS to be sent out to some skrag on Coruscant. It might be viewed as a small thing or it might turn unwanted attention his way. 

“Oh,” Luke made a face, scrunching his nose. “Is it fun?”

Vader snorted. “No. It is just work.”

"Oh." Luke hummed and then to his surprise, he moved himself forwards, doing his absolute best to climb up onto Vader’s lap. He wasn’t quite successful, since the chair Vader was sitting in was rather tall, getting only halfway up and clinging to him as if he was dangling on the edge of a cliff. 

Vader could only bring himself to stare, somewhat baffled. Then, slowly, he reached down and grabbed Luke’s bicep and helped pull him up the rest of the way. A pleased sort of feeling drifted between them as Luke fidgeted around on his lap in an attempt to make himself comfortable.

It was fine. 

Vader didn’t know what to do with this but it was fine. He patted his son awkwardly on the head and then decided to just go back to what he’d been doing, hoping the familiarity of the report would put him at ease. And it might have, except that he was hyper conscious of everything that Luke was doing and had to constantly stop him from pressing buttons on his suit, from reaching for his datapad, or from falling off his lap entirely; and he moved constantly, unable to truly hold still and it wasn’t long before Vader felt his irritation begin to rise. 

He was not used to any of this. 

“Do not touch,” Vader said, brushing Luke’s hand away from the controls for his life support, for the third time in less than a minute. It would do no good for either of them if he were to have a heart attack right now because the circuits decided to short out due to tampering. 

“How comes there’s buttons though?”

Because the design was shit. Because it was old and outdated and he wasn’t allowed to have anything better than what the emperor allowed him to have. 

“It is just how it works,” Vader said, exercising all the patience he had left in his very black soul when Luke’s legs began swinging over the edge of the chair. His foot kept constantly kicking the upper part of his shin and a painful tingle of electricity sparked through his fake nerves in response. 

“But how come?”

“There isn’t a reason - do not touch that either.”

“Does it play any holos?” Luke said, pointing a finger at his datapad. Another kick to his shin. There was definitely some underlying damage - maybe a frayed wire or something similar. He would have to take it apart and fix it later. “Which ones do you have? Can I see?”

“It can - but that is not its primary purpose.”

“How come?”

“Because I said so.”

Luke made a face, rolling his eyes at that answer. “S’what grown-ups always say. How come?”

For the love of the Force. 

“Because I am older than you and am entitled to give that answer if I want to.” 

“Huh?”

“Luke,” Vader sighed, reigning in his irritation as another kick connected with his shin. “That’s enough. Go play.” 

Another kick - not malicious and certainly not done with the intention of causing any actual harm. 

“But there’s not nothing to do,” Luke sighed dramatically, fidgeting some more. “I’m bored.” 

“Then find something to do.” Vader said firmly. He put the datapad down for a moment before gently - gently - moving Luke off of him and nudging him slightly in the direction of the couch. Luke walked off, making it about halfway before he paused and looked back, glancing back and forth between him and the cartoon that had kept him occupied for most of the afternoon.

Vader picked up his datapad, scanning it until he found where he'd left off. "Go play," he repeated. He detested paperwork and he didn't need any distractions. Half the Imperial leadership were complete idiots and had gotten where they were through names and wealth alone. It was infuriating and more than half the Empire's problems could be solved if people of actual skill were running things. 

A nervous sort of feeling grew between them and then, “Could, um… could you play with me?” Luke asked quickly, fidgeting nervously, his blue eyes wide and hopeful.

Vader scoffed, only half hearing what Luke had said. “No,” he said immediately, pressing SEND for the particularly irritating email response he had just finished. Why were these people so incompetent?  “I do not play.”

It only took a second or two before the Force suddenly dimmed and something embarrassed and very sad fluttered along their bond. It was sharp and felt like getting stabbed with a blade. Vader looked up quickly, realizing his mistake just in time to see the crestfallen expression on Luke’s face. 

“Luke, wait -”

He was already gone, hurrying away, little flickers of hurt-sad-lonely fluttering between them. Vader closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to try and clear his thoughts. When he opened them again, Luke had sat down on the floor at the base of the couch again, crossing his legs and propping his chin on his hand. He looked miserable and sad and his thoughts were drifting once more towards Tatooine. 

Damn. 

He hadn't meant to... well, it didn't really matter what he had meant to do.

Vader brushed gently along their bond, wondering what to do. Unaccustomed to the nuances of children as he was, Vader had not realized until this very moment that his little son truly was being very quiet and still in a big effort to not disturb him… but also, as a little further investigation revealed, to not do anything which might somehow put him out of favor with his new family member.

As if such a thing could ever be possible.

Luke couldn’t help it that he was lonely. 

Turning off his datapad, Vader set it down on the counter and stood up. His duties could wait - and apparently would have to. Being in the same room as someone clearly wasn’t the same as spending time with them and his own fears and ineptitudes were just excuses at this point. Vader was accustomed to being alone but he supposed he could relearn the skill. He would have to, apparently. 

Vader hesitated for a moment, uncertain of what to do to make this better. He wasn’t in the habit of trying to fix things. He supposed that an apology would be a fair place to start though. Sighing, he crossed the room and stood towering above Luke for a few seconds. His presence was ignored in favor of Luke plucking half-heartedly at a loose string of the carpet. 

His feelings were hurt but he was making a valiant effort not to cry or be sad. Adjusting his cape for a moment, Vader slowly lowered himself to the ground and sat down beside him on the floor. Luke scooted to the side, just a little, to make room for him, but kept his eyes down. 

Vader glanced at the HoloNet screen but he didn’t recognize the cartoon that was playing on it. It seemed like a lot of nonsense. He didn’t know how to talk to children anymore.

Though perhaps that was the problem. Luke was a child but he was still his own person. Just… a very small one. It shouldn’t be that hard. 

“Luke, I am… sorry. I did not mean to make it sound as though I do not wish to spend time with you.” Vader said haltingly, the words sounding awkward and unfamiliar on his tongue. “If you want, I can take a break and do something with you.”

A moment passed and then Luke shook his head, still looking down at the carpet. “That’s okay.” 

“Luke,” Vader sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out. “I am sorry. This is new for me too.” He said honestly, opening his eyes again and poking Luke gently in the side. He let the faint impressions of I’m sorry and safe and affection flicker gently between them, wishing he knew how to put all the things he really felt into actual words.

Luke looked up then, staring at him curiously. “But I thought grown-ups always know what they’s doing.” He said hesitantly. 

Force, if only. If he had any to spare, Vader thought he might be willing to trade an arm and a leg if it meant having all the secrets to good parenting. 

“No,” Vader shook his head. “Not always.”

“Oh.” 

This… arrangement between them was going to have to be a team effort. He needed Luke’s cooperation if they were going to do this, for whatever length of time it would end up being for. If they could be on the same page with each other about things, it would be that much easier.

Vader reached out, ruffling Luke’s hair for a moment and then lowering his hand to gently caress his cheek. “Can you be patient with me while I try to learn?” He asked. Luke was quiet for a long moment, thinking it over. His thoughts lingered on the quiet affection that he could feel humming along their bond and the ever-present whisper that they were family. 

“Yeah, okay.” He finally said after a few seconds, scrubbing the tears from his eyes. “But just until I can go home, right?”

Home. 

Tatooine.

There was no going back to that life or that planet - Luke didn’t belong there and there wasn’t anyone waiting for him. Vader did not necessarily care that the Lars’ were dead; it evoked no emotion in him beyond the smallest whisper of guilt that he had to lie to his son, who he didn’t want to hurt anymore than necessary. 

Children were adaptable. Luke would adjust and it would be easier for both of them if grief and loss were not a part of that process.

Vader nodded. “Just until you can go home. Now,” he said, straightening up a little and more than ready to change the topic. “Did you want to do something?”

Luke nodded eagerly. “What can we do?” 

Vader paused, glancing around their living space for some kind of inspiration. The toys he had ordered for his son were not due to arrive for a few more days and he truthfully had no desire to sit down and watch anything either. Besides, Luke had watched enough HoloNet over the last few days while he regained his strength and settled in and Vader had no intention of using it as a lazy man’s tool to get out of actual parenting. 

What could possibly interest a child on a warship though?

The silly cartoon playing on the screen caught his attention once more and he stared, watching a few animated TIE-fighters fly through the air on the screen. There seemed to be some kind of space battle taking place. Vader paused, an idea coming to his mind. 

That… that could work. Luke was his son, after all. It would be isolated as well, which would be good for both of them. 

“Come with me,” Vader said, making up his mind. He flicked the screen off and got to his feet, tossing the remote on the couch. “I will show you something.” 

Luke hurried to his feet, trailing after him as he moved across the room. “What are we gonna do?”

“It is a surprise. You will like it, I promise. Now, put your shoes on.”

They were more like slippers, really. Easy enough for a child to put on by themselves. An updated wardrobe for his four year old was still pending and they were currently making do with some things that had been found in the laundry and clothing distribution. Another day, perhaps, before they arrived - which was a good thing, because no child of his was going to wear rags or hand-me-downs.

Whether he knew it or not, Luke was royalty and he deserved to be treated as such. 

While Luke was doing that, Vader pulled out a commlink and pressed the side button. “Security, clear the halls to my private hangar,” he said.

There was a brief pause.

“Yes, sir.”

Putting the commlink away, he crossed the floor and entered in the security code to unlock the door to Luke’s rooms that would take them out into the corridor. It slid open with a near silent whoosh. 

“I’m ready!” Luke said quickly, scrambling to his side with bright eyes. He hadn’t seen many other parts of the ship and he was certainly curious now that he was feeling better. 

Though… he wasn’t supposed to be overexerting himself too much just yet. The hangar bay was a bit of a walk. How far could small children go before they had to stop? Vader couldn’t remember... but there was a reason Luke had been spending the last few days on the couch. 

“Would you,” Vader hesitated, feeling uncertain for the first time. “Would you like me to carry you?”

To his personal relief, Luke shook his head vigorously. “I can walk!” He said, puffing himself up in a rather cute sort of way. “I’m gonna be five this year.”

Vader felt a smile stretch across his face and he reached down and took Luke’s hand instead. Perhaps they could just play it by ear. “Is that so?” He asked politely, being more careful to match his son's much slower stride as they made their way down the corridor and to the lift. 

“Mmhmm! I’m gettin’ weally big! Auntie Beru says so.”

Vader promptly decided to have medical narrow down exactly how old Luke currently was; if he was anywhere close to his 'birthday', perhaps he would get him something special.

He asked Luke a few more questions, letting him prattle on and on about everything and anything that he found interesting and was personally surprised to realize that he loved every second of it. Luke was a fascinating child. Undoubtedly brilliant and already remarkably brave. He was bright and clever and curious about everything. The conversation felt more natural than he had been expected and Vader couldn’t help but wonder what he had been so nervous about. 

The door to the lift was opening as they approached and Vader urged Luke to step inside before following after him. Being who he was, Vader had clearance for every level of the Executor and there were certain levels that were restricted for almost everyone except for him and those whom he had personally given authorization to. 

His private hangar was one such area. 

“How fast does it go?” Luke asked, pressing his hand and face up against the plexiglass, staring out into space and down the length of the ship that was visible to them. “Issit super duper big?”

“She goes very fast,” Vader agreed with some amusement. “And she is nineteen kilometers long.”

“Does it have a name?”

“She is called the Executor. But most of the officers on the ship will refer to her as the Lady.”  

“How come?”

“She is the flagship of the Imperial Navy and the first of her particular size. The crew is proud to work on her and the name is a token of respect.”

“I like her!” Luke said quickly, turning to beam up at him. 

Vader smiled, resting a hand on top of his head for a moment. “I do too, little one.”

“Is she yours?” 

“She is.”

And she would remain so, if he had anything to say about it. Palpatine and his plans were no longer his concern beyond what pretenses he had to put up for the time being. If things went well, then Luke would be returned to his rightful age quickly and they could kill Palpatine and take control of the Empire. If that were not possible and their situation became known… then Vader was going to have to act alone, whether that was disappearing with Luke, or taking control of the Empire through some other means. 

Thoughts for another time, however.

The lift doors opened and they stepped out together, walking the last few minutes to their destination. Luke was still doing well and fortunately, there was no one else present on the floor or anywhere nearby that Vader could personally sense, after a brief but careful scan of the Force. They were alone and free to be themselves. 

“Where are we?” Luke asked curiously, looking up at the doors to his private hangar. They stood ten feet tall and were an impressive sight to see.

Vader let go of Luke’s hand for a moment and a panel slid open on the wall, revealing a state of the art security system. He quickly typed in the password he had set for it and then waited until the ACCESS GRANTED voice chimed and the panel slid shut once again.

Luke pressed against his side as the massive doors began to slide up open. 

“This is where I keep my toys,” Vader said, offering Luke a smile and letting the impression of it flicker momentarily between them. 

Luke’s eyes grew big and wide as he caught sight of the inside for the first time.

“Whoa!” 

To his knowledge, Vader had the biggest private collection of spacecraft in the galaxy and if he didn’t, then he was well on his way to. There were rows and rows of spacecraft, stretching to the far reaches of the massive hangar. All of them sleek and expensive and impressive to behold. There were wasn't much that Vader didn't have and there were other exclusive pieces that had either been designed by him or for him and were the only ones of their kind. 

“Can I…?” Luke said, tugging on his his hand. 

Vader nodded and with his permission, Luke took off with a little whoop of excitement. 

He let a small smile cross his lips, trailing behind Luke as he excitedly ran back and forth between different models, ducking under the wings and pressing his fingers and face against the sides so that he could peer into them before hurrying off to find another one. 

"What's that one called?"

Vader told him, and then named several others that Luke pointed out to him as well. 

A Hammerhead Corvette.

An S-161

Lamda Class C4a

A Firespray-31

Multiple versions of the TIE fighter models.  

A J-type 327 

"Look at that one!" Luke crowed, beyond delighted. The hangar itself was massive and Vader doubted that they would be able to see everything that he had managed to collect over the years in one visit, though Luke seemed determined to try all the same. He made it all the way to the end of the first row, happily investigating everything that he could. There were some tools laying out that Vader hadn't put away the last time he'd come down here - nothing dangerous, at least - and Luke picked up a few them before, turning them over a few times before putting them down again. 

He was a beautiful child. 

In a very far corner, hidden underneath a massive tarp, in a severe state of disrepair, neglected and almost forgotten entirely except on the rare occasion when it needed to be moved, was an old customized Delta-7, the Azure Angel. 

Vader paused for a moment when he saw Luke heading in that direction and then stepped forward to quickly take his hand and divert his attention elsewhere. They paused for a few minutes so that Luke could explore the inside of one of his shuttles. Vader even let him into the cockpit so he could sit at the controls and push a few buttons. The way that Luke cackled in glee at the lights flashing on and off was unexpectedly amusing and Vader distantly wished that he had thought to bring a recorder with him. 

He had already missed so much of Luke's life... and even if the situation was undesirable... this was a memory that he could at least have for himself. 

A thought crossed his mind very quietly, barely a whisper. 

Tell him.

Luke had a right to know. Family, but strangers, wasn’t going to work forever. That and… Vader wanted Luke to know. Luke was his son. His blood and his family. He wanted them to know each other as such. He just... wasn’t certain how to go about it.

The last time he had spoken to Luke - the adult version, anyways - it couldn’t have possibly gone worse and he had almost lost Luke entirely as a result. He had not truly intended to hurt Luke with the knowledge that they were family. But he had. In more ways than one. None of it had gone the way that he had meant for it to go. Bespin had been a mistake and the last impressions he had gotten from Luke before the Millenium Falcon disappeared into hyperspace had been ones of fear, hurt, and pain.

It hadn’t bothered him at the time, except that Luke had gotten away when he had been so certain that he’d caught him at last…. 

But now... while watching Luke laugh and have fun... it bothered him. 

There was no justification in the galaxy for Luke, this version or otherwise, to ever know that kind of pain. Certainly not by Vader's hand.

He remembered, as if from the ashes of another life, that his ultimate goal before everything had gone so very wrong, was to ensure the safety, happiness, and freedom of his family. Before his own lust for power had gotten in his way and changed the course of his life, leading him down the darkest of paths and pushing him to commit the most terrible and unforgivable of sins. 

There was never going to be any redemption for him. 

Vader had accepted that fact a long, long time ago. 

But Luke still deserved to be happy. While he had no intention of telling him that the Lars’ were long dead, Luke still deserved to feel safe and know that he was cared for and Vader found that he wanted Luke’s happiness more than he had wanted anything in a very long time. 

“Luke,” Vader said quietly, catching his son’s attention again. Curious blue eyes turned to look up at him. He gestured for Luke to come closer and then asked, “Do you know who I am?”

Luke’s brow furrowed slightly and he paused for a long moment to think. Vader could feel the sudden intensity of his thoughts as well as the slight distress he felt when he couldn’t seem to figure it out. There was a strong sense of family flickering between them again and the barest twinge of pain as Luke tried to pull on a memory that he didn’t really have. 

Vader slowly dropped down into a squat to put himself more at eye level with his son and placed his hands gently on Luke’s shoulders. “It is okay if you do not know the answer.” 

Luke stared at him for a long moment before glancing once more around the hangar and then shook his head. “I… I don’t knows the word,” he admitted, looking distressed. “It’s stuck somewhere.”

Vader lifted a hand, gently moving some of Luke’s long hair out of his eyes and then briefly caressing his cheek.

In a selfish way, some small part of him was relieved that his son didn’t look like her. Vader didn’t know how he would handle it if he had to look into his mother's eyes every single day. The open trust and innocence reflecting back at him would have brought back too many painful memories. But Luke was very clearly his child. With Anakin’s blue eyes and complexion and his sun-bleached hair, before it had gone dark with age. 

“Luke, I am your father.”

Silence. 

Nothing but silence. 

Vader found himself waiting with bated breath, more afraid than he could remember being in almost two decades, wondering if this time would be like last time. If there would be terror and pain in the realization and desperate denials of the truth. There was no gantry for Luke to jump off of this time, and only the memory of Owen and Beru Lars to contend with.

The denials that he feared didn’t come though. Instead, Luke only tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Vader could feel the word father spinning around in his mind. It seemed to… maybe mean something to him. 

Long seconds passed and then the name Ani flickered cautiously in Luke’s mind, as if he wasn’t entirely certain of what he was thinking. Vader hesitated, disliking the idea of acknowledging that name. But… it also meant that someone had told Luke where he came from. If that name was what Luke knew then… then… maybe just this once. After a moment of hesitation, Vader whispered yes in agreement.

Anakin, he said softly. Father. 

"Father," Luke said slowly, testing the word out. Then he lifted his hand, flexing his fingers for a few seconds before boldly reaching out towards him. Vader held still, waiting as he allowed his son to touch his respirator, letting him feel the small puffs of air that escaped it for a few seconds. Then he raised his hand higher and touched the brim of his mask, pulling down on it slightly, and peering boldly through the red lenses.

Vader wasn’t entirely certain what he might see - he had personally done everything within his power to avoid his own reflection for over twenty years now. If anything was actually visible from the lenses, he doubted it would be of any comfort to a child. He had to refrain from the temptation to whisper any kind of mental suggestions to him. This was something that Luke needed to decide and figure out on his own. Instead, all Vader allowed to pass between them was the genuine affection he felt. 

The seconds ticked by and Luke… wasn’t afraid. Instead, he let go of his mask and explored the other parts of his suit, touching his arms, comparing the size of their hands and then tracing the outline of the control box to his suit with a finger. Finally, their eyes met once more and... and there was nothing except a quiet acceptance in the Force. 

“Hi,” Luke said quietly, leaning into him for a hug. 

Vader was stunned. Then he moved, clumsily wrapping his arms around Luke and drawing him in closer and returning the hug. 

“Hi Luke,” he whispered back. 

Something warm and light flickered somewhere deep in his heart and while he ignored that it was there, Vader couldn’t bring himself to chase it away either. 

The whispers of exhaustion were finally beginning to pull at Luke and without pulling out of their hug, Vader readjusted his arms slightly and picked his son up, standing as he did and carefully began making his way for the exit. 

Luke needed a nap. 

“I, I..." Luke yawned, lifting his head slightly to look over Vader’s shoulder. “I wanted to see more.”

Vader smiled, feeling more content then he'd been in years. “I will bring you back to see them again soon,” he promised.

Chapter Text

Firmus stepped off the lift as the doors opened and walked down the long corridor, the sound of his shoes clicking on the polished floor. A few little mouse droids rolled out of his way as he walked, beeping quiet greetings that he ignored. He had been down to this floor many times and it never got any less nerve-wracking. 

He approached a different door than usual and then paused for a moment, taking a small steadying breath. He was calm. Professional. Ready and capable of doing his job. Swallowing, Firmus took one more moment to smooth out any wrinkles on his uniform and ensure that his cap was situated perfectly before pressing the button on the wall and calmly requesting entry. 

The door slid open and Firmus stepped inside and then there was the sound of security locks engaging as the door slid shut once more. He didn’t pay it much attention, instead pausing in the entry and looking around with some genuine surprise. 

He wasn’t certain what he had been expecting. Previous visits to this particular floor had him in the supreme commander’s private office or at the hyperbaric chamber. He’d never seen the rest of it and full schematics were not available. This was, from first glance, an entire luxury sized apartment that he hadn’t had any idea existed. Just the entryway was grand in itself and what he could see was tastefully and elaborately decorated; far nicer than any of the guest suites that the Executor had for visiting authority figures within the Empire and the Imperial Navy. Those rooms were designed with the intent of making whoever was using them feel important.

This… this had been designed for royalty. The walls in the living room were various shades of creams and blues, with plush carpets, decorative plants and what looked like massive custom artwork of the most gorgeous landscapes Firmus had ever seen and beautiful dark wood furniture. A massive 80” holo screen hung on one wall, and there were viewports that were open so that any occupants could look outwards into space. There were two different entryways - one that probably went into a kitchen and another long hallway that probably went to a master bedroom of some kind. Everything looked almost entirely untouched. There wasn’t a lived-in feel to anything that he could see, save that there were an exceptionally large number of toys lying around. 

And… with a somewhat surreptitious glance, he also saw that there were also some child drawings on actual flimsy sitting on a coffee table in front of the holo screen. It was on and currently muted, playing some sort of cartoon. A fancy box of every possible color crayon and colored pencils were present and there were even a few drawings that were definitely not done by a child.

Firmus would have to add ‘Lord Vader drawing with crayons’ to the list of things he never thought he’d see or know about. Him having a child was still at the top of the list. But using crayons was pretty interesting. If he were less professional and more of a gossip, he would be the most popular person on the ship. At least he didn’t have to sit around and wonder who the apartment was intended for. The answer seemed fairly obvious, given the circumstances.

It was unbelievably expensive though. This one room alone was probably worth more than two years of his annual salary. But Firmus wasn’t going to go any further. Not without being invited. Lord Vader would know that he had arrived and would come meet him when he was ready. Firmus knew the art of patience and was fine with waiting. It was a good way to stay alive on this particular ship. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait very long. Vader was a punctual person, always exemplifying the qualities that he expected from those who worked under him. It was one of the reasons many of the crewmembers enjoyed working for him. One could call him many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. Firmus stood at attention as the door down the long hallway opened and Lord Vader emerged, every bit the intimidating figure that he always was. 

“Admiral,” Vader greeted, somewhat distractedly. “Hurry up, little one.” He called over his shoulder. 

“My lord,” Firmus greeted as Vader drew closer, offering him a brisk salute. “You requested to see me. How can I be of service?”

“FATHER!” A small voice bellowed before Vader could respond. Both of them turned at the same time that there was the quick pattering of feet and the slamming of the same door that Lord Vader had just come through. “WAIT FOR ME!”

Firmus watched with some small amusement as the young Luke Skywalker emerged in a flurry of movement, barefoot with his socks and shoes in hand. He froze upon seeing Firmus, however, and whatever else he’d been about to say died in his throat. He looked quite a bit different than he had the last time Firmus had seen him in the medical bay. He was dressed in finer clothes, his cheeks were fuller, and there was a much brighter look in his blue eyes. The bruises from before had mostly faded now and sometime in the last few days, he’d gotten a replacement prosthetic. 

It was a vast improvement over the sobbing, terrified child from several days ago. Firmus had never found pleasure of any sort in the abuse of children and so he was quietly pleased to see that the kid was feeling better. 

Luke hesitated for only a moment before darting the distance to Vader’s side, grabbing at his hand and pressing against him, watching Firmus with wary eyes. “Who’s that?” He whispered loudly, tugging slightly on Vader’s hand.

“You asked how you could be of assistance, admiral.” Vader said calmly. “As you likely are aware, I have an interrogation to conduct in the detention cells. I need someone to watch my son.” 

Firmus had been aware of that, actually. He had been sure to monitor the situation with the Antioch’s crew very closely. An official interrogator had been down in the detention cells to extract information from them twenty standard hours after their arrival. To both medical and Vader’s consternation, he hadn’t gotten much information. Just a small handful of names and the location where they had bought young Skywalker from another slave dealer. It wasn’t enough, though there were, even now, efforts being made to locate the dealer. 

Lord Vader wasn’t satisfied and had made it clear that he was personally going to question them all himself, though he hadn’t said when. The slavers had been granted a reprieve from the first interrogation and were being kept on a liquid diet. Firmus suspected, now that he was looking at him, that Skywalker had regained strength enough that Vader was willing to leave him in order to seek further answers to his questions. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that he would need someone to watch the kid while he was gone. 

Or that Firmus would be tasked to do so. 

“And you want… me to watch him?” He asked dumbly, unaccustomed to the intense feeling of dread that was settling into his heart. 

“I do,” Vader said simply. Then he placed his hands on Luke’s shoulders, turning him around to face Firmus more directly. “Luke, this is Admiral Piett. You might remember him from a few days ago?”

Luke glanced upwards at Vader nervously. Then he looked at Firmus and nodded after a few seconds. “I r’member.” He mumbled quietly. “Um… can I go play?” Luke asked quickly, clearly uncomfortable with being the center of attention. “Please?”

“You may,” Vader agreed, his voice gentle. “Only for a few minutes though. No more holo.”

They both watched Luke scurry off, heading for some of the toys that were out for him. Considering what the child had been through, it seemed normal that he wouldn’t be overly interested in strangers of any sort. But of all the things Firmus didn’t want to be responsible for, Luke Skywalker was at the very top of the list.

He was the list, actually. Just his name, in big bold letters, underlined about fifty times in red.

“Is this something outside of your capabilities, admiral?” Vader asked sharply once the silence had stretched a few seconds too long. 

Firmus swallowed, closing his eyes for a very brief moment before quickly making up his mind. He hadn’t gotten this far in his life or his career by bowing out of all the assignments that freaked him out and he distantly understood that him being asked to do this at all said a lot about where he stood with the supreme commander. Declining the request would be exceptionally unwise. 

“No, my lord,” he said, exhaling a little shakily. “But if it is all the same to you, I would like to establish some ground rules first.” 

“Ground rules?” Vader repeated drily.

“Your do’s and don’ts.” Firmus elaborated. This was a job that had absolutely zero room for error and he wanted to be alive at the end of it. He took a moment to open a blank page on his datapad with an almost indiscernible shake of his head. He couldn’t believe he’d advanced this far into the military just to become a glorified babysitter. He would, on principle, be the best damn babysitter the galaxy had ever seen but he also wondered if it was too soon for him to request a pay raise. Babysitting was not in the job description.

“Go on.” Vader allowed after a moment. 

“If he is to come with me, there will be questions and if I may say so, you were… quite adverse to his presence being realized. How am I to introduce him? What am I allowed to say?”

The dark lord was silent for a few seconds. “His presence is already known to a large percentage of the crew. They are aware that there is a child onboard, they simply do not know who he is or that he is my child. Until his condition can be reversed, Luke will not be going anywhere. This is the safest place for him to be. You may introduce him as my son and reveal that his name is Luke,” Vader said slowly. “And if the crew draws further conclusions, then so be it.” 

It would perhaps be in the crew's very best interest to not draw too many conclusions, Firmus thought privately. But… he could concede that there was some wisdom in the idea. Lord Vader was right that the kid was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. They might as well control the information that the Executor had about him and make it very clear that moving forward, he would be the most protected person onboard the Lady. 

“Very well, sir. Is he on food restrictions and does he have any allergies that I should be aware of?”

“No. He has eaten his morning meal already and I do not anticipate my interrogation lasting very long. But if expresses that he is hungry, ensure that he eats. Preferably something healthy.”

Firmus jotted down a few notes, relieved that there were no drastic dietary restrictions. It was one less thing to stress about. 

“If there’s an emergency – ”

“Contact Medic Kix and then myself.” Vader said immediately, with a tone that implied there better not be an emergency.

“His interactions with other crew members?”

“As limited as you can manage under the scope of your duties. From there, use your best judgment.”

The scope of his duties. 

He was the kriffing admiral. His duties put him literally over everything that happened on the ship. Oh, he could already feel a headache coming on and the day was just barely starting. 

Fine. It was fine. He could do this. 

“Am I… allowed to enforce expectations for his behavior?”

He had nieces and nephews. He hadn’t spent much time with them but he knew children were often unruly and he did have a ship to run. Letting a child run amok, even Vader’s child, was not preferable to him. He had standards to maintain. Vader was silent, seeming to mull the question over very seriously. And while maintaining order was important to him, in the back of his mind, some part of him would almost prefer it if the man said no. Then the kid could just do whatever he wanted and Firmus would have been given full permission to turn a blind eye to it. Any resulting chaos wouldn’t be his fault. 

“You may.”

Damn.

He refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose in mild despair and instead kept his expression professionally neutral. “How do you feel about corporal punishment?”

There was a very small pause and then in both the calmest and most threatening tone Firmus had ever heard, Vader looked him dead in the eye and said, “Admiral… make no mistake. If you touch my son in anger, I will kill you.” 

“Understood, sir.” Firmus said with a satisfied nod. It wasn’t an empty threat by any means but the clear line of what not to do was better than ambiguity. He could work with that. Not that he would have ever hit the kid but it was best to cover all possible angles. He thought for a moment longer and then asked, “Is there anything else that I need to know about?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Very well, my lord. Your trust in me will not be misplaced.”

“See that it isn’t. I will come find you when I am finished.”

“Father?” Luke's head shot up quickly and he scrambled to his feet, dropping his toys and darting back to Vader's side in an instant, snatching his father's hand to hold. “Where are you going?” 

Firmus wasn’t entirely certain why but it stood out to him that Vader was letting the kid hold his hand. He couldn’t help but stare. After a second or two, Vader dropped down into a squat, putting himself on Luke’s level.

“I am going to go have a talk with some very bad people, little one.”

“But you’re gonna come back for me, wight?” Luke asked, fearfully now. “I… I don’t wanna be all by myself.”

Vader lifted a hand and ruffled Luke’s hair for a moment. “I will come back,” he promised kindly. “And you will not be alone. Admiral Piett will be taking you to see other parts of the Lady. Mind your manners and behave yourself. Stay with him and when I come back, you can tell me all about your day.”

Luke didn’t look convinced. 

“You pwomise?”

“I promise.” Vader said, over enunciating the R sound slightly. 

Luke wrung his hands together nervously for a moment and glanced at Firmus again. “Okay,” he finally agreed reluctantly. 

“Good boy,” Vader sounded pleased, standing up to his full height once more. “Admiral,” he said once, dipping his head slightly before making his exit. 

There was a long moment of awkward silence after the door closed where both of them did nothing except stare at each other. 

He could do this. He ran the flagship for the Imperial Navy. How hard could one child possibly be?

Firmus could definitely do this. 

Luke stared at him dubiously for a few more seconds and Firmus had the sudden thought that the kid was sizing him up somehow. Finally, he offered Firmus a small wave and said, “Hi.”

He definitely couldn’t do this.

Luke was quiet and wasn’t certain what to think of the man before him now. He vaguely remembered him from a few days ago - Pete had stayed with him at the doctors and had been nice to him when he was scared. But he had the appearance of being very strict and he felt nervous around anyone who wasn’t Father. 

The last strangers he’d been with had been horrible and mean and had talked a lot about selling him to strangers. 

He wrinkled his nose, feeling tears prick at his eyes at the thought of Father being gone. Luke didn’t understand why he couldn’t have gone with him. He would have been good and wouldn’t have caused any trouble. None at all. But Father had said no and now Luke was with Pete. It made him feel lonely and sad but he wasn’t going to cry. Father had promised him he would be back and Luke was certain that he had meant it. 

“Well,” Pete said awkwardly. He looked at Luke like he didn’t know quite what to do with him. “Um… why don’t you finish putting your shoes on.”

Luke looked down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes for a moment. It was nice and warm in here, but he knew that space was cold. He nodded to Pete and hurried back to the couch and plopped himself on the ground, tugging his discarded socks and shoes on his feet. This pair of socks had banthas printed on them. He hoped he got them on the right foot but he wasn’t going to ask Pete just in case it made him sound little. 

“Come along then. I suppose we should get going.” Pete said once he was finished. 

Luke nodded and followed Pete when the door opened. Even though he was sad he couldn’t help but be super curious. He hadn’t seen much of the Lady yet but Father said that she was super duper big. Father liked talking about the Lady and so Luke liked her too. 

Pete walked super fast though and it was hard to keep up with his longer steps. But Luke knew this part of the ship - they were going to the lift and he briefly wondered if maybe they would go down and see Father’s ships. But instead of going down, Pete pushed a button and the lift went up. Luke tried not to be disappointed. He was quiet, watching intently as Pete pulled out a commlink and started talking into it with a no-nonsense tone of voice. Uncle Owen used the same voice a lot when it was bedtime at home. 

“Bridge Deck Security, Admiral Piett.”

“Go, admiral.”

“I will be arriving in roughly fifteen minutes. Ensure that the new security measures are being followed and keep overall floor traffic to a minimum if at all possible until otherwise notified.”

“Copy that, admiral.”

The conversation ended just like that and Pete sighed, leaning back against the lift wall for a moment, pinching his nose and groaning quietly. Aunt Beru would probably say that Pete needed a nap, Luke decided promptly. 

“What’s ‘bridge deck’?” He asked curiously. 

Pete blinked, turning his attention back to him. “It’s… uh, the bridge is where the main functions for the ship are run. It’s where I work most of the time.”

“Will Father be there too?”

Pete huffed, shaking his head as if Luke had said something ridiculous. “No. Lord Vader had to go somewhere else.”

“But how come I didn’t get to goes with him?” 

“Little kids aren’t allowed where he’s at. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“How come?”

Pete sighed. “Because those are the rules. And speaking of rules, when we arrive on the bridge, you need to be on your best behavior. Do not touch anything and do not bother anyone that is working. They have important things to do and don’t need a child pestering them. Do you understand?”

Luke understood that none of that sounded like any fun and that he’d rather do something else. “But when do we have fun?” 

“This is a work environment,” Pete began to explain just as the lift finally stopped and the door opened up for them. Luke darted out before Pete could go first, eager to see something new and explore his father’s ship. Immediately, the first thing he saw was another long silver corridor with lots and lots of lights and doors to go through and the second thing he saw, before he had gotten very far at all, were all the white armored people - like the ones he saw the first day he’d come here when Father had rescued him. He froze, feeling the little hairs on the back of his neck raise. 

He didn’t know how he knew or why but they weren’t supposed to be safe. 

Luke yelped in surprise when someone snatched his hand. He twisted looking up into Pete’s exasperated expression. 

“Do not run off, young man. This is not a place for children and the last thing anyone needs is for you to get lost. Just stay by my side.”

Luke harrumphed but nodded while glancing cautiously at the white armored men. Even with their masks on, Luke could tell that they were looking at him. It was the same as with Father but different. 

“Admiral,” one of them greeted. He sounded nice and his voice was a little echo-y but not as deep as Father’s. Luke shuffled a little closer to Pete as he approached, watching him warily. “Is this the little guy that has this whole ship in an uproar?”

“It certainly is,” Pete sighed, glancing down at him. “This is Lord Vader’s son, Luke. Luke, this is your security detail. Do you want to say hello?”

Luke drew back behind Pete a little, shaking his head and suddenly feeling shy. He didn’t know what a security detail was and it seemed like there were lots of people now. He had gotten used to it just being him and Father.

The closest person glanced backwards at the other white armored people and after a moment, slowly dropped into a squat before lifting his helmet off his head. Luke blinked, surprised to see that he had a normal face. His skin was a light brown and he had dark eyes that Luke thought looked nice. Maybe tired - the kind of tired that went further inside than normal. But he didn’t look angry or mean at all. Instead, he smiled and waved.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted. “My name is Dogma. You know, you look an awful lot like your dad.”

Luke felt his brow furrow somewhat. “Nuh uh,” he said, poking his head out from behind Pete a little further. “Father doesn’t look nothing like me.”

Dogma shrugged. “Maybe not now. But I’ve known your dad for a long time. And you kiddo, you look a lot like him.”

Some of Luke’s unease disappeared. He liked hearing that and he was certain that Dogma wasn’t lying. After a few seconds, some of the other white armored people came a little closer as well. They removed their helmets and some of them had the same face as Dogma but different hair and others had different faces entirely.

“You don’t need to be afraid of us, kiddo.” Dogma said gently. “We’re just here to make sure nothing bad happens to you. You can ask us for help if you ever need anything and we’ll always be around to protect you. Any one of us wearing white - you can consider us your friends. Does that sound good to you?”

Luke pursed his lips, trying to decide. The strange prickly feeling on the back of his neck was still there but not as much now. They seemed nice and they knew Father. He glanced up at Pete to see if he knew what Luke should do and Pete only smiled and nodded encouragingly at him. 

“Okay,” Luke decided after a moment, stepping out and offering them all a shy smile. “We can be friends.”

Chapter Text

Leaving his little son behind with the admiral was harder than Vader had expected it to be. It had only been a few days of having Luke around to look after and add to his daily routine and he will be the first to admit that adapting to all of this has not been the easiest thing he had done in the last twenty years or so. He had been out of his depth dealing with such a small child and had found himself embracing emotions that he was wholly unused to feeling, which has further left him feeling off-kilter. In those more exasperating moments of parenting, Vader had thought that some real time to himself would be a welcome break. 

It wasn't. 

His thoughts are centered on Luke the entire time that he spends walking to the detention cells, wondering if he is alright and whether or not he’s happy or frightened. He attempted to distract himself from any unease by reminding himself of what he is certain of. He knew that the admiral would do his job well and keep his son out of harm's way, even at the cost of his own life; he would never have tasked Piett with the responsibility had he not thought the man capable of handling it. He had often delegated tasks to Piett before which were of a far more serious and complicated nature than simple child care and had never thought twice about it. 

Of course, no assignment he had ever given Piett previously had any real meaning to him either beyond necessity and what was expected of him by the emperor. Those things had been important but they weren’t important. 

Not the way that Luke was now important.

Regardless. The veteran members of the 501st had all been updated as to the situation and had been given the knowledge of Luke’s identity and relationship to him during one of Luke’s afternoon naps a few days ago. Vader was confident that they would do their job to perfection. Their loyalty to him, which he had always been certain of, had cemented itself even further when they had collectively realized who he was. Acknowledging Anakin as much as he had recently was beyond irritating but Anakin had always put his men first before his own life and the 501st would repay him by putting his son first here and now. 

There would always be the potential threat or accident waiting around the corner in any given situation… but with the finest security detail that could possibly be offered, Vader was confident that his son would be kept safe anywhere on the Executor. 

There was no reason for him to be concerned or distracted in any capacity.

But even with everything that he had personally done to put himself at ease and grant himself the ability to leave Luke whenever it was necessary... this was still different. 

He was wholly unaccustomed to the feeling of anxiety that was niggling in the back of his mind and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t even that anxious for Luke's safety; it's the time away from his son that he will not get back. 

Vader felt acutely aware of the fact that he was missing out on experiencing small moments of Luke’s life. Like his first time meeting his guards. Maybe he should have introduced Luke to them himself? He hadn't thought it was necessary or important but now he was thinking that perhaps he had been wrong. Or even the experience of taking Luke to see new parts of the ship, which he suspected his son would be enjoying immensely. The wide-eyed wonder that would appear on his little son’s face anytime he experienced something new was his newest source of joy and pleasure. Or the fact that Luke was probably making a nuisance of himself to staff, asking his endless questions. Or any of the small observations that Luke has throughout the day and felt prompted to share with him.

They were all nothing, in the grand scheme of things… and yet they are suddenly terribly important at the same time. Vader wanted to be present for as much as he could for this second childhood. 

Mostly though, he hoped that Luke would miss him during their time apart. 

He only succeeded in putting his son out of his mind when he reached the detention level of the ship. It was reserved for scum and traitors and he would keep Luke away from all of it, even in the privacy of his thoughts. An officer was present and waiting for him when he arrived. The officer didn't waste any time and quickly escorted him through the cells until they reached the right ones.

Despite what he had allowed the admiral to believe, Vader was not here specifically to gather information… his interrogators knew their business well and he was satisfied with what they have already given him. Efforts were already being made to locate the individual known as Jonun, who was responsible for selling Luke to the Antioch crew. He was their next best chance at finding out who was responsible for this transformation. 

Instead, Vader was here now to exact vengeance. Everything about this situation was personal to him and he had no intention of letting it slide. He was not known for mercy.

The dark side began to build and fester around him like a storm as the angry emotions he’d suppressed on Luke’s behalf begin to make themselves known. He offered the on-duty officer a single nod and watched as he quickly made his getaway. Once he was gone, Vader took one more moment before rolling his shoulders and then waved his hand to unlock the first cell door. 

Vader stepped inside, feeling more like himself and more in his element of control than he had in several days. 

The togruta responsible for hitting his son, and for desiring to do far worse, looked up at him as the door closed. He was thinner than he had been several days ago and his eyes were bloodshot from stress, a lack of sleep, and the after effects of his previous interrogation. He sat up as much as possible and glared at him. 

“I have already told you and your men everything.” He spat out. “I have nothing more to say to any of you!”

The dark side laughed silently, enjoying his fear immensely. Vader didn't respond, staying silent. Holding completely still, just glaring at him in the dim lighting of the cell. He merely watched, letting his anger grow and expand until the very air around him was colder and more deadly than Hoth. The fear in the room increased and Vader imagined that he could even hear the sound of togruta's pathetic little heart pounding a rapid, terrified beat in his chest. 

“Just get it over with!” 

Vader took a slow step forward. “I am not here to ask questions.”

Despite all the bravado, his breath hitched. “Torture, then?” The togruta demanded, squaring his shoulders.

“No less than what you deserve, rest assured.” Vader said, taking another predatory step forwards. 

The togruta tried backing up but his back only hit the wall. There was nowhere to go. Even the far side of the galaxy would not be far enough for him to escape Vader’s wrath now. “I didn’t do anything to the little brat.”

Lie.

“You would have,” Vader hissed and it was nothing except the truth. 

“Why do you care? You’ve slaughtered how many sentients over the years? I don’t understand why one kid suddenly matters to you -”

“What you do not understand is none of my concern," Vader interrupted coldly. “All you need to know is that you committed an unforgivable offense against me and I will repay you for it in full.”

The on-duty officer swallowed back his own fear as the screaming began. He looked around, confirming that he was indeed alone on-duty… and then pulled out a small pair of headphones from his desk drawer so he could listen to some music and try to block out the sound.

The walls in the detention area are not completely soundproof and what happened down here was often disturbing. The whole area was designed that way on purpose. To torment the others who were awaiting their grim future. There was nothing for any of them to do except sit and listen to the agonized screams of others and wait for their turn. 

Lord Vader’s victims always screamed the loudest.

Torture was an art. 

A skill. 

Not one that Vader had spent much time cultivating but which he understood intimately nevertheless. It was not beneath him by any means, but he had never done it without purpose - he preferred straight killing over mimicking the emperor’s more sadistic habits. 

The togruta - what was left of him -lay before him now, twitching and gasping. He was too weak to beg but his desperate desire to just die echoed faintly around his pathetic body in the Force. 

Vader wished now, briefly, that he wasn’t trapped inside his suit the way that he was. That he was capable of producing Sith lightning without killing himself in the process. Damn the emperor for taking such preventative measures to keep Vader in line. There were few things so painful as that particular hell and he knew that the torture itself could be drawn out for a very long time. It was nothing less than exactly what the togruta deserved. 

He wanted to draw this out even further. Wanted to make the togruta beg and beg and beg for death, and then to continue to deny him the satisfaction of dying. 

But this filth could not be allowed to exist on the same ship as Luke. However ridiculously small the possibility was that they would ever cross paths again, the togruta was still a danger to his little son. It had been several hours already. There was nothing more than he could do at this point that he hadn't already done.

Luke’s lunchtime was quickly approaching and he had told the admiral that he would be back by then. 

With a slight flex of his fingers, Vader used the Force to shred one of the togruta’s lungs and then pushed his broken, mangled body harshly across the floor. He would suffocate within minutes. Vader watched, relishing his last moments of terror and then finally turned to leave. 

He would come back and kill the other slavers later. There was a decontamination room nearby, which he made quick use of before heading in the direction of the exit. He ignored the officer at the desk as he hastily removed a pair of headphones from his ears and then stood up to salute him. 

Vader’s trip to the bridge was a far more pleasant experience now that he had ensured justice for his son.

The hexagonal doors to the bridge open at his approach and Vader stepped inside, his eyes immediately searching for his little son. Even hidden safely inside his own darkness, Luke was a bright, pleasant light in the Force; an entirely welcome change from the utter foulness of the slavers. He would recognize Luke’s bright innocence even from across the galaxy.

It only took him a few seconds to find his offspring; he was across the walkway, sitting comfortably on the floor in the window frame of one of the viewports. He was distracted by one of his guards who seemed to be in the middle of some quiet, yet dramatic story-telling. Luke’s emotions were adorably enthralled and as Vader drew nearer, he realized that Luke seemed to have acquired a few new toys in the last couple of hours, judging by the small collection of toy ships he seemed to have accumulated.

"...have you ever heard of a troll?" Dogma was asking. His mask was absent, Vader noted with tolerant acceptance. "Do you know what a troll is?"

Luke shook his head fervently, his eyes wide. 

"Great big nasty twenty foot high smelly things... these ones were arguing - arguing about how they were going to cook the little dwarves and their friend! But they messed up! Trolls aren't very smart and they spent so long arguing about whether or not to squash them into a jelly or mince them into a pie that they didn't notice when the sun's first light crept over the trees... and turned them all to stone!"

His son gasped, astonished. Dogma nodded sagely in response, his eyes briefly flickering to Vader. A smile pulled at his lips. 

"Are you giving my child nightmares?" Vader asked calmly.

Luke immediately sat up, his head whipping around. "FATHER!" He shouted with glee, scrambling to his feet and plowing into his leg and wrapping his arms around him for a hug. "YOU CAME BACK!"

"Hello, Luke," Vader said, feeling pleased and returning Luke's enthusiastic hug as best as he could. 

"Welcome back, Lord Vader." Dogma greeted politely, standing up to his full height. "And no, sir. No nightmares. Merely sharing my vast knowledge of good literature with a young mind."

Vader hummed, brushing Luke's hair back and allowing his affection to pass freely between them. He barely noticed when Dogma excused himself. “Did you behave for the admiral?”

Luke pulled back from his hug, looking positively affronted by the mere suggestion of him being anything other than perfectly well-behaved. “I’s being super good! WASN’T I GOOD, PETE?” He bellowed over his shoulder. There were muffled sniggers from around the pits. “Pete even said he might lemme me push a button. Can I? Can I push a button, please?” Luke pleaded, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes without bothering to wait for an answer. Vader highly doubted the admiral was going to yell from across the floor in order to answer him.

“Perhaps,” Vader allowed warmly, amused more than he was willing to admit. Luke sensed it anyways and beamed with pleasure, now more than certain he was going to get his way. “What else have you been doing?”

“Playing!” Luke picked up one of his ships and thrust it upwards for him to see. “En-sigh Doss gave them to me! She likes ships too an’ cowects little ones like these an’ an’ she says I can keep them! Can I? They make vrooooooom sounds an’ go really fast. Does the ‘Lady make vroom vrooom sounds? I think she’s awful quiet, maybe… maybe she just hummmmmms.”

The heart Vader was pretending he didn’t have was positively melting.

“You are very astute, Luke. I do not believe that the engines for the Executor make that particular sound.” He agreed, pleased for once that his mask hid his face from view. It would damage his reputation and cause him a world of hurt with Palpatine if anyone saw him smiling.

Luke blinked. “What’s astute?” He asked curiously.

“It means you are very clever.”

“Oh,” Luke beamed, puffing up with pride at the compliment. “I’s gonna get a ship of my very own one day and be a pilot too and fly really fast so that I can see everything in the whole gawaxy!” He confided in a loud whisper. “But… Uncle Owen says that it’s too big to see all of it but I’s gonna try anyways!”

Half-formed, hazy pictures and ideas of what Luke hoped to see fluttered along their bond and Vader reciprocated, sending clearer images of worlds he’d been to in his youth for him to enjoy, much to Luke’s delight. “You will indeed be a brilliant pilot, my little one. Now, give me a moment to speak with the admiral and once I am finished, I will take you to have lunch.”

“Can we go see your ships again too?”

“If you are good.”

In Luke’s eyes, that was as good as a yes. Vader made a mental note to add thirty minutes to his schedule to allow for a trip to the hangar bay.

“M’kay.” Luke contentedly went back to playing with his new toys as Vader turned his head at the sound of the admiral’s approach. He looked unusually harried and flustered.

“My lord.” He greeted politely, straightening his already impeccable uniform. “I trust everything is well?”

“As well as it can be. The detention level officers are cleaning up the mess and disposing of the trash as we speak.”

“Excellent. Did you learn anything new that you would like me or others to act on?”

“Not at present. I still expect an update on all current efforts being made at the end of shift.”

“Of course, my lord.” Piett nodded. “All other matters are being tended to and I have nothing of importance to report to you as of right now.”

Vader nodded, pleased. He glanced at his son, who was watching their interaction curiously. “My son claims he was well behaved?”

“I WAS!” Luke immediately jumped up to his feet, grabbing at the admiral’s shirt and tugging on it. “I was good! Wasn’t I, Pete?”

Admiral Piett winced at Luke’s loud and insistent tone and gave Luke a look which had absolutely no effect. The entire Jedi council and Obi-wan combined had never succeeded in dimming Anakin’s enthusiasm once he got going. One man, even a man as competent as the admiral, didn’t have a chance against Luke either. The thought made Vader feel quite proud. “What have I said about yelling, young man?”

Luke rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. “That s’not nes-sary.” He pouted. “But you said I could push a button if I was good and I was!”

Vader could see the admiral counting to ten in his head, fighting between trying to be firm and succumbing to his own tired amusement. Glancing up at Vader, the admiral confirmed in a dry tone. “What he said is true. Luke behaved very well.”

Luke bobbed his head enthusiastically in agreement. “I even asked everyone what their favorite color was! Pete likes purple.” He informed dutifully.

Admiral Piett’s face twitched minutely, in what was a professional display of complete and utter embarrassment. It was…quite amusing to witness.

“Is that so?”

“Yup! I told him that gween is better.”

“Green.” Vader corrected.

“Grrrreeeeeen.” Luke amended tolerantly, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of adults.

Force, how he loved this child. He pursed his lips, acutely aware of how entertained the rest of the bridge was by the interaction… only, it didn't annoy him at all. How strange. Though, someone in the weapons and defense station was going to pass out if they held their breath any longer. 

“Admiral, I would advise you to make good on your word.” Vader said, directing a warm smile at Luke.

No one else could see it, but Luke could sense it just as well as if the mask were gone entirely. He beamed with pleasure and excitement, looking up hopefully at Piett.

“Come here, kiddo.” Piett sighed tolerantly. He guided Luke by the shoulders over to one of the command stations that sat near one of the viewports. 

“Which one can I push?” 

Piett pointed to a round black button on the console and Vader couldn’t help but smile as he realized which one it was. “Go ahead and push that one.”

“Wazzit gonna do?” Luke asked eagerly.

“Why don’t you push it and find out?”

Luke’s hand slammed down eagerly on the button and immediately, the black void of space directly in front of viewports lit up as the beacon lights were activated. 

“Wow!” Luke gasped, a delighted smile spreading across his face. A number of people from the pits stood up, craning their heads to see what was happening. Vader didn’t even mind, watching in amusement as Piett had to patiently tell Luke that he could only push the one button and not all of the others. 

“But how come?” 

“Because I said so and because if you push that button, the whole ship is going to self-destruct and everyone will die.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically in response, turning to look at Vader. “Is that true?” He whispered loudly.

Vader nodded solemnly.

“See?” Piett said, his lips twitching in amusement but his expression remaining stern. “Just push this one.”

“Okay!"

Piett glanced sideways and met eyes with Vader. Luke was entirely oblivious to their shared mirth, hitting the button over and over again and watching the lights change color.  

“Bridge Control, this is Security.”

“Go for the bridge,” Piett answered into his comm radio. 

“Admiral… is there a reason that the emergency beacon lights are being used right now?”

“Unscheduled maintenance check.” Piett lied promptly. The members of the pits finally broke, busting up in wheezing laughter as the admiral waved an exasperated hand at all of them, trying to shush the sudden noise.

“...right. Copy that.”

…a few days later, somewhere on Coruscant…

“That’s weird.” Onner readjusted his glasses, convinced he was reading the reports wrong.

Beside him, Wick raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

“These reports,” He said in disbelief. “They came in from the Executor. Apparently, morale is going up.”

Wick snorted. “Obviously, someone over there is on the spice.”

Chapter Text

Children were exasperating. Obnoxious, indecisive little brats. 

Vader loved his son dearly but by the Force - he was not a patient person and while he could and would hold himself in check on behalf of Luke, he was not certain that he was willing or even able to endure another tantrum today. 

From start to near the finish, it had been an all-day event. Tantrum after tantrum, for seemingly no reason at all. Luke was just upset - throwing things, kicking things, and flinging himself on the ground and screaming in utter disapproval of everything that Vader had done even if it had been exactly what Luke had requested. If he had had any hair left, he would have ripped it out by now. Nothing he did was the right thing and he could not make it stop.  

There hadn’t been a person, save the emperor himself, who had so much as dared to look at him the wrong way, let alone give him such an attitude in over twenty years. 

None of his usual parenting fallbacks had worked either. Time-out hadn’t worked. The threat of ‘no holo’ hadn’t worked. A nap, which his little son desperately needed, had been straight out refused and Luke had spent the time in his room screaming and crying nonstop until Vader had genuinely feared that he would make himself sick and he’d relented out of concern that Luke would have to go to the infirmary.

That would have been a nightmare on top of a nightmare. During his two weeks on board, Luke had learned to hate the infirmary.

Never in his life had Vader felt like such a complete, abject failure.

He wasn’t inclined to cheat either and just use the Force to put Luke to sleep, though it was wildly tempting to do so. It just felt… cruel, somehow and it certainly wouldn’t help Luke learn to regulate his emotions in a healthy and productive way. Vader wasn’t certain what the problem was, but he was at least positive that there was one. Luke just couldn’t verbalize what it was and Vader was losing patience in trying to figure it out. 

Right now, just randomly wandering the halls, was the quietest that it had been for them all day. Luke did not want to hold his hand or be held or anything like that - right now, he just wanted to walk. Aimlessly, with no clear direction through the long corridors of the Executor, while Vader trailed behind him. Occasionally, some on duty staff member that was passing by would step to the side to give them room, shooting concerned looks towards his upset son as if Vader was somehow the problem and not the one who was currently demonstrating a remarkable amount of patience for the entire ridiculous situation. 

If their situation got out to the wider galaxy because someone had the audacity to call CPS on him, there would be hell to pay for everyone on board. 

Regardless. The walking around seemed to be helping a little bit and as long as Luke wasn’t crying or screaming bloody murder at this point, Vader was content to let him. He was banking on the thought that his little son had to pass out sometime and then they could both be finished with today. 

This was what his life had come to - Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces… waiting for nap time to come around so that he could have a few minutes to himself. Somewhere, Obi-Wan Kenobi was laughing at his torment, the smug son of a bitch, no doubt thinking that this was a fair turnabout for all the nonsense he’d once had to put up with. His thoughts darkened for a few minutes while he had a nonexistent argument with his former master in his head. 

He should have killed him more slowly. 

“Luke,” Vader finally said, after ten or so minutes had passed. He was entirely exasperated as he watched his son scrub his eyes with his fists for the umpteenth time. He had definitely inherited the Skywalker brand of stubbornness. “Why don’t we try bedtime again?”

“No,” Luke said fiercely, dropping his hands to turn around and glare at him. If he weren’t four years old and didn’t have bags underneath his eyes to testify to his exhaustion, Vader might have been impressed with the fact that he would dare say ‘no’ to a Sith Lord with such a tone. However, being the loving and understanding father-in-training that he was, he chose to ignore the attitude being directed at him.

Mostly.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Vader demanded impatiently. “Because you are tired and you will be going to bed within the hour.”

He could feel his son's tiny but impressive temper begin to rise with the promise, as well as his own accompanying migraine.

“Luke,” Vader interrupted before his son could start his tantrum. “I will not tolerate your behavior any longer and if you insist on crying, we will go home and you can go to your room and go to bed. Or,” Vader added sternly, watching Luke’s quickly stricken expression carefully. “We can do something else for a little bit.”

Luke debated the choice that had been given to him and Vader spared a moment to think that he should have given more direct options instead of leaving it so open-ended for a child to interpret. Next time, he’d phrase it differently. 

His son wrung his hands for a moment, his blue eyes glancing around the corridor slowly. He was so obviously tired and unhappy.

“Well?”

“I… I wanna go up.” Luke finally said. 

“Up where? To the bridge?”

Because that was not an option right now. His son had already been far too disruptive earlier today - both because they had gone to the bridge and then because they had left. The admiral had gotten as close to 'professionally disinviting' Vader from being there as he possibly could have without actually putting it into words, when Luke had started one of his tantrums there. Vader had definitely not slunk off afterwards to deal with his misbehaving spawn tucked under his arm. He had exited the bridge because he had wanted to and for no other reason. Anyone that said otherwise was a liar and would be recommended for disciplinary action. Any up and coming pay raises would be cancelled as well. 

Fortunately, Luke shook his head, stressing as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I dunno - up to the top.”

Throwing his son out of an airlock for being difficult wasn’t an option, Vader reminded himself sarcastically. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out where up could be or… or….

Vader paused. 

There was actually… an observatory, now that he was thinking about it. On one of the uppermost levels that offered a near three hundred and sixty degree view of space. It was not frequented often to the best of his knowledge and perhaps the solitude would assist their current predicament as well. 

“Alright,” he said abruptly. “We can go to the top if you promise not to throw a tantrum when we have to leave. Deal?”

Luke nodded quickly, using his arm to scrub his face. “Deal.”

He was a lying little monster but Vader would take what he could get for the moment.

“Then come with me.”

He turned, spinning on his heel and making his way to the closest lift. Luke hastened his steps to catch up with him, grabbing his hand for the first time all day. Vader curled his fingers gently around Luke’s, still exasperated by the events of the day but unable to deny him any sort of comfort once it was sought after. 

To his surprise and not, Luke was fairly quiet the entire way up the lift. His thoughts were complicated and difficult to decipher. It felt like they were all tangled up in knots, with his emotions flickering rapidly between frustration, anger, exhaustion. Loneliness and the desire for comfort were there as well but his angrier emotions were by far the easiest to read and the closest to the surface. Vader was pleased upon their arrival at the observatory to find that it was indeed empty, with the exception of some security that was posted on the floor itself. They acknowledged Vader with a polite greeting and salutes and waved to Luke, who didn’t seem interested in any of them for the time being. 

Vader let the observatory door close behind them and the lights overhead flickered on to a dim setting. He felt Luke’s interest stir in the Force as he took in the view around them for the first time. He pulled away from Vader, venturing up to the viewports where he pressed his little hands against the glass. Vader stepped closer to him, watching as Luke's breath fogged up the glass as he stared out into the dark expanse of space. It was hardly the first time that he had seen space but it was the first time that he’d had such a broad and expansive view of it. 

“What do you think?” He asked quietly. 

Luke paused, shrinking back from the viewport a little. “I… I dunno,” he admitted. “It’s so big and dark. And… and quiet.”

“Space is like that,” Vader agreed patiently. “It can be frightening, sometimes.”

His little son looked up at him. “Even to you’s?”

Vader hesitated for a moment, debating how to best respond. He did not wish to lie but neither had he ever remembered viewing space as anything beyond something to be explored. But he had also been older the first time he’d gone into space. Finally, he shrugged, tilting his head. “Perhaps, at times, yes,” Vader said slowly. “But only because there is no such thing as perfect knowledge, little one. Or… of complete control. Sometimes that is frightening to me. But otherwise I like space very much. There are many wonderful things to see and worlds to explore. It is always an adventure.”

“Oh.” Luke glanced back, chewing his lip. “Where’s the suns though?” He asked in that same small voice.

Vader blinked, tilting his head slightly as he sensed a different emotion other than anger and frustration for the first time today. He hadn’t been expecting joy since that clearly hadn’t been an option today but sadness was not exactly what he had been expecting either. “We are not close to any stars right now, little one.”

“But,” Luke turned to look at him desperately. “I miss them. Lots and lots.”

Oh.

Oh.

Understanding came to him very quickly and Vader felt all of his frustration and annoyance fade in an instant. 

Luke was homesick. 

It embarrassed him to just now realize that that had been a possibility for all his tantrums today. The source of all of his anger and frustration. Vader had thought, perhaps selfishly, that Luke would grow content with just his company and that home would not need to be addressed anytime soon. In hindsight, a stupid thought and hope to have had. Luke was young and he missed family. There was much he did not understand about the situation he was in and Vader had purposefully not brought up anything about his guardians or of Tatooine on his own.  

He had not realized that Luke might have been waiting for him to say something. He should have though - young though he was, Luke was a clever child and had a good memory. Expecting it to go away on its own was probably wrong.

Swallowing back his guilt, Vader knelt down, sitting back on his legs and pulling his little son in close to his side, whispering a silent apology for all of his impatience. He pointed with his other finger. “Look there,” he said gently, giving Luke time to find the right spot. “You see that?”

Luke nodded. 

“That is a planet.”

A silent thrill shot between them, some of his sons disquiet disappearing almost instantly.

“Really?” Luke asked, his eyes lighting up with sudden interest. 

Vader nodded. “Yes, it is,” he said warmly. 

“Which one? What’sit called? And how do you knows which is a star and which is a, um, a planet?”

With a smile, Vader patiently offered him the name of the planet before explaining the differences in the twinkling lights that represented stars and the steady, non-twinkling light of planets. When Luke asked him why the stars twinkled at all, he explained that too, sending mental pictures across their bond for Luke to see and learn from. His little son absorbed it all, tired but completely fascinated.

“I’s gonna tell Uncle Owen all ‘bout it when I gets home!” He declared boldly, proud of his newly acquired knowledge. 

Owen and Beru.

Vader felt something in him grow quiet. He could not keep putting off telling Luke that he wasn’t going back to the Desert. That they weren’t on their way back to Tatooine. There was never going to be a good time. He just did not know how to explain death to a child. And… he knew that he did not feel equal to the task either. Even if he felt nothing for them… he could not bear the thought of Luke feeling such terrible pain at the loss of those who had cared for them. 

It was wrong and selfish - another thing that could be added to his long list of crimes. Hopefully this one could be forgiven in time. 

He fell quiet, letting Luke talk to him for a few minutes and being sure to respond at all the appropriate intervals while trying hard to figure out how best to say what needed to be said. Finally, there was a lull as some of Luke’s energy began to putter out again. 

“Luke… do you like staying with me?”

Luke nodded. “I do!” He chirped and his words rang with simple and honest sincerity. Still… he was wringing his hands anxiously. Vader took them in his own, running his thumbs along the top of Luke’s small knuckles. “But… but Auntie Beru an’ Uncle Owen… they’s waiting for me. Aren’t they?”

Vader closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. “Luke, I must tell you something and you need to listen very carefully. Can you do that for me?”

Luke nodded, his brow furrowing as he sensed the seriousness of Vader’s thoughts. 

“I know that I promised to take you home… but I cannot… I cannot reach your aunt and uncle, my son.” Vader said haltingly. “And I cannot take you back unless there is someone there to take care of you. Owen and Beru are not there. Do you understand?”

To his great discomfort, Luke’s thoughts suddenly hit a wall. He stared at him, confused and then hurt, his eyes quickly welling with tears as Vader’s words sunk in. 

“No!” He declared with a wobbling lip. “Why… why’s aren’t they waiting for me? My auntie and uncle are supposeded to be there!”

“Luke,” Vader said gently. 

“No! I want to go home! NOW! Right now! You pwomised! You pwomised to take me home!”

“They aren’t there, Luke. I do not… I do not know where they are.” 

And that was the truth… he did not know what happened after one died. Cultures and planets varied in their beliefs. He knew that the Jedi had believed there was a way for one to linger after death in some form, though he was not certain if he believed it himself. 

The penance he paid for his own crimes was to live. 

“But I want Beru!” Luke wailed, his thoughts turning to the face of the only mother he had ever known. It had only been a short while but already the image of her was fading a little in his memory. Tears streaked down his face and he took a small step back from Vader, feeling terribly betrayed. 

“Luke…”

“I… I want Beru. I want Beru, I want Beru!” 

Vader got to his feet and stepped forward, snatching Luke up before he could get very far, holding him close while Luke turned and sobbed into his chest. “I am sorry, little one. I am. She is not there anymore.” 

“Why’s aren’t they waiting for me?” Luke cried helplessly, his fingers clinging tightly into the front of his suit. Vader adjusted his arms, holding Luke against him and rocking him gently while he begged for answers that Vader couldn’t give. “They’s supposed to be there!”

“I’m sorry,” Vader said in quiet repeat while Luke began to sob in complete and utter misery. It was worse, far, far worse than any of his other tears from throughout the day. It was nothing but pure gut-wrenching pain and a sense of terrible, bewildered loss. It hurt him deeply to witness and know that he was in some small way responsible for it. “I am so sorry, little one. They aren’t there anymore.”

It continued far longer than he was comfortable with but for far less time than earlier bouts of crying had been as well. Luke simply lacked the energy to continue with such awful misery. Vader was certain there would be more of it to come in the following days. But at least he could approach the situation with more patience now that he understood what was wrong. 

He rocked back and forth, rubbing Luke’s back and whispering apologies and promises of love and safety while his son slumped against him and cried, holding on to him with the intent of not letting go. 

At some point, long past the time which Vader had declared bedtime, Luke pulled back to look at him with snot dripping down his nose and a tear streaked face. 

“Will I… will I ever sees them again?” He whimpered.

Vader shifted Luke in his arms until he was supporting his weight with just one. With his free hand, he brushed Luke’s hair back, petting him gently. “What does your heart say?”

Luke scrubbed his eyes with his fists, though the tears kept coming. “I… I hope so.”

Vader nodded. “Then you hold on to that hope and keep it safe with you, my little son.” 

“I… I…” Luke sniffed, shedding a few more tears. “I’ll keep it safe. I won’t forget, never ever.”

“I know you won’t. You are strong and brave and your family,” he paused, thinking of Padmé and himself, of Shmi, and the guardians which had raised his son in spite of the danger it would have and eventually did pose to them. “Your family loves you very much.”

It was honest and true and he felt Luke accept it, the words cementing themselves on his heart and conscience. Time might pass and one day he would be returned to his proper age and perhaps things would resume their original course between them… but this promise, offered by his father now, was something he would never forget or doubt.

They rested in the quiet moments that followed and after a few minutes, Vader stepped towards the viewport once again so they could both look out into the galaxy that was before them. Luke slumped against him once more, sighing with exhaustion.

“What’s gonna happen to me now?” 

Vader blinked in mild surprise, and sensed more than saw his son’s eyes start to droop close. “You will stay with me, of course. I will not let anything bad happen to you. That is my solemn promise.”

“...we’ll go on adventures? Like you said before?” Luke mumbled. 

Vader nodded, finally whispering that quiet suggestion to sleep across their bond. “Yes. We will go on many adventures, my son.”

He stared outside for a few moments longer, just until he felt Luke doze off into a much needed sleep and then turned to walk them both home. 

Chapter Text

Tiergan Burvick was not having a great day.  

He usually wasn’t. 

Annoyed and short-tempered was his usual default setting at this point in his life and despite being one of the main floor managers and holding the respectable rank of ‘major’, he had been not so fondly dubbed as the ‘grouchy bastard’ in engineering over the last few years. Which was fine with him because it meant that whenever someone chose to invade his space and bother him, it was usually important. 

He had more than his fair share of work to do and anyone who worked on the Executor that couldn’t handle simple tasks or demonstrate basic common sense was promptly dismissed. He had no need for anyone that couldn’t pull their weight and there were other officers who were more willing to play the part of ‘mentor’. 

After losing both of his former… apprentices… Tiergan had no desire to go through that kind of effort ever again. His marriage had never been perfect and it had ended not long after the Death Star was destroyed. He didn't talk any of them anymore. 

His office was fairly large, with a large work desk, a window looking out into the bay, and several monitors on the wall. It wasn’t exactly ‘tidy’ but was what he liked to think of as ‘working chaos’. He kept the main door open so that he could hear what was going on, and paid attention to the radio chatter for anything significant, but otherwise enjoyed the solitude. Fortunately, the Executor was not currently deployed in any active war zone and neither did her crew often experience any significant emergencies. It left him plenty of time to tinker with his projects. 

Tiergan was in the middle of one, kneeling on the floor of his office and hard at work disassembling a damaged circuit board for one of the generator systems, when the back of his neck tingled slightly. He paused, recognizing the feeling of someone watching him. Annoyed at being interrupted, he quickly turned, ready to reprimand whoever had come to bother him… and then felt the words die in his throat. 

Instead of one of his subordinates… it was a child. Peering cautiously into his workspace; just a mop of blonde hair and curious blue eyes. 

Son of a bitch.

Surprise came and went and after looking around to confirm that there was no adult figure nearby to supervise said child, Tiergan straightened up and pointed a finger at him. 

“You,” he said in a stern tone. The little boy’s eyes widened at realizing he’d been caught and he shrunk back until just a sliver of him was still visible in the doorframe. “I still see you. Come here, boy. Now.”

There was a few seconds of hesitation before the kid shuffled out from his hiding spot, into the doorway. He was wearing an expensive looking little officer’s uniform with the rank of ‘commander’ pinned at his chest. The boy tucked his hands behind his back, looking up at him from under his lashes as if hoping to avoid getting in trouble. Tiergan had had six boys of his own and it had never once worked on him. He was perfectly immune to such tactics. 

“Come here. Closer.” 

Slowly, very slowly, the kid stepped forward inside until he was just a small distance away. It didn’t look like he’d been crying, Tiergan noted. In fact, he just looked like a sneaky little scamp who’d snuck off to do whatever it was that he probably wasn’t supposed to do. 

As far as he knew, there was only one child reported to be aboard the Executor and that child had no business being down here unsupervised, of all places. 

Tiergan stood up, placing his hands on his hips, and glaring down at the little boy with as much disapproval as he could muster. Which was quite a bit - this was not the interruption that he needed today. “Are you Lord Vader’s son?” He demanded. 

There was a pause and the kid brought his hands forward and wrung them slightly. Finally, he nodded quietly. 

“Are you where you’re supposed to be?” 

The kid winced and then awkwardly shook his head. Tiergan sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an effort to control his annoyance. Apparently this was his problem now. 

“Alright,” he said, leveling the kid with another look which would have had grown men desperate to leave his office but didn’t seem to bother the kid very much. He pointed to the chair at his desk in the corner. “You’re going to go sit down and not move an inch while I call someone to come and get you. Got it?” 

The kid nodded and quickly skipped past him and scrambled to sit on his chair. 

Grabbing a handrag to quickly scrub the grease and oil off his hands, Tiergan crossed the workshop and grabbed a commlink off the desk where it was charging. He scanned a few channels, wondering who the hell he was supposed to contact about this and what he was supposed to say.

“You absolute idiots - ” Kix snarled, storming his way through the halls of the Executor in the direction of the main security department and trying very hard to make it look like he wasn’t panicking. The two officers who had been designated to ‘babysit’ were bustling to try and keep up. “You had one job to do! One job! How do you lose a kid?”

They were all going to die. Every single one of them. All because they failed to keep track of a four-year old. It had been less than two hours! How hard could it have possibly been?

“We are so sorry -”

“Just - both of you just shut up,” Kix snapped impatiently, rounding a corner. “And get the hell away from me until we can find out where this kid went.”

Chagrined and rightfully afraid for their lives, the two backed away a little to give him some place. It only took a few more minutes before he reached the security office, scanning his code to get him through the door. 

“Suba!” Kix snapped, stalking through the dimly lit room and startling a number of security officers at their monitors. “Where the hell are you? We have an emergency!”

Lieutenant Suba appeared from around a corner, looking hurried, his face pale. He took one look at the expression on his face and spied the two chagrined security officers trailing a few feet behind him and groaned. “You did not -”

“They did,” Kix confirmed fiercely. “We need to find that kid and we needed to do it yesterday.”

“How the kriff do you lose Lord Vader’s son?” Suba snapped, snapping his fingers and demanding that some of his men start searching for him through the camera systems. “What the hell is the matter with you two? Who have you notified? When did he go missing and where?”

“We think he jumped on one of the lifts in the east corridor, probably - I don’t know, fifteen minutes ago now? But we don’t know whether it was going up or down. We - we haven’t called it out because we can’t use his name over the radio system -”

Suba made a frustrated sound. “You -” he made an angry, squeezing gesture with his hands. “There are fifty different things you could have said other than his name, you two were just hoping to find him before anyone else realized you’d lost him! You even called for the damn medic to clear him for you once you did find him!” 

It was exactly what they had done and if Lord Vader didn’t kill them, then Kix was going to because they’d had the audacity to drag him into this mess and expect him to be quiet about it. They had probably been banking on the idea that since Lord Vader was conducting some mandatory inspections of one of the other warships stationed in orbit with them ,that they might be able to get away with it.

Kix wanted to know why they thought that the chatty four-year old wouldn't tell his father about everything in the first five minutes of their reunion. Or why they honestly expected the command crew to not fully disclose everything and anything that had happened to Luke in the short time that Vader would be gone. What with the way that the whole Executor had lost its collective mind over how much their former rage-incarnate, death-on-the-battlefield, one man army openly doted on his child and threw every former assumption about him having no feelings whatsoever out the kriffing window? 

And they went and had the audacity to lose the damn kid within the first hour of them being asked to keep an eye on him? 

It was absolutely ridiculous. 

Lieutenant Suba pinched the space between his eyes, obviously thinking along the exact same lines, and then grabbed a radio, pressing the call button. “Bridge Control, this is Lieutenant Suba and I am activating a code blue emergency on the Executor. Shut down the hangar bays, and make sure no one leaves. I need all available security teams across the ship to start a grid search of your areas. Pay particular attention to the east corridors nearest to the lifts for the main security floor. I need to know if anyone has eyes on…” he hesitated for a moment and then said, “on Vader Two?” 

Admiral Piett’s voice immediately came through and the cold tone of his voice could have cut through durasteel. “Code blue acknowledged,” he announced tightly. “And I am enroute to you now and I expect updates every three minutes until I reach you.”

If it hadn't been certain before, it was now.

They were all going to die. 

Kix watched as Suba pressed down on the call button once again to acknowledge but before he could, through some divine intervention, someone else on the channel got there first. “Bridge Control, this is Burvick in engineering. Feel free to cancel that code blue. I have eyes on your 'Vader Two' and can confirm that he's perfectly fine. No thanks to any of you.”

“What’s your name?”

Tiergan turned his head to glance at the boy, setting his radio aside after confirming his exact location. Fortunately for the both of them, the kid was still sitting where he’d been told to sit and was swinging his legs happily, looking around the workshop with open curiosity and completely oblivious to the emergency he’d very nearly been responsible for.

“Mr. Burvick,” Tiergan said stiffly. Despite his tone, the kid offered him a charming little wave. Pursing his lips, he asked in return. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Luke Skywalker!” 

Tiergan harrumphed, but even his classic disinterest did not seem to do much to dissuade the boy. So… it was true then. He had heard the rumors, same as anyone else on this ship had. Just hadn’t put much stock into gossip. 

Luke Skywalker really was Vader’s son. 

He appraised the boy for a moment, taking in the sight of the one responsible for destroying the Death Star and for killing two of his own children in the process. He didn’t feel any particular emotion; not the way he had thought he would feel if he ever had the chance to confront the one responsible. This little boy wasn’t a rebel. Or a terrorist or anything like that. 

And he probably had no idea what it meant to take a life. 

At this age, he was about as innocent as they came.

Luke Skywalker. He was an awfully small thing. Blonde. Blue eyes, filled with open curiosity. A contagious sort of energy that most children had. Not exactly what Tiergan had imagined any child of Darth Vader to look like - but he supposed it made the Empire’s Enforcer a little more real. He’d seen holo pictures of the kid as an adult in his WANTED posters. Most people in the Empire had - they were hard to avoid. Those posters always came with the warning to approach with caution, noting that the kid was rumored to be or was at least affiliated with the Jedi, and that he usually carried a blue lasersword on his person.

Before the Empire, Tiergan had always been deeply fascinated by the Jedi’s weapons. 

There was some resemblance, he supposed, though he had no idea what kind of technology could de-age a person like this. Or why someone would want such a thing. Skywalker was lucky that, through some divine power, he’d landed himself in his father’s hands rather than someone else’s. 

A kid belonging to someone as notorious as Lord Vader could have had a much rougher go of it. 

Tiergan had mixed feelings himself about seeing him now. But… only skrags and cowards went after children, he decided after a long moment. This kid might share the same name but, at the moment, he wasn’t the adult that had killed his sons either. 

“Well, I called some people to come pick you up,” he said after a long moment. “You’ll just stay here with me until they get here, alright?”

Luke nodded, “Okay!”

He pursed his lips, setting aside his own resentment for the time being and turned away, trying to tune the kid out, and refocus on his work instead. One of the bolts he’d been working on previously had been put on tightly. It was proving to be a pain in the ass to loosen but he wasn’t in the mood to get a droid to do it for him. He needed the feeling of accomplishment that came from doing it himself.

“Whatcha doin’?” Luke asked curiously, once nearly a whole minute of silence had gone by. “Can I help?”

“No,” Tiergan turned to give the kid a warning look. “You sit there and mind yourself.”

“Father likes to build things too. He told me so!” Luke said, completely unprompted and oblivious to the fact Tiergan wasn’t building anything; he was taking things apart. 

Tiergan hummed half-heartedly. “Does he now?” 

“Mmm hmm! He said he build-ed a droid once when he was small, like me, and that his name was Three-Pee-Oh!” Luke enunciated the name very carefully, swinging his legs. “But he doesn’t know where he is anymore. Maybe he got broked.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you buildin’ a droid?”

Tiergan sighed. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” the disappointment on the kid’s face was fairly evident. “Maybe you should, cause then your droid could help do your chores-es.”

“I like doing things myself.” 

Another minute or two of silence, broken only by the sound of clinking of tools being moved around on his desk. That was fine with him - most of them were wrenches or screwdrivers and Luke wouldn’t be able to hurt himself with any of them. If it kept him quiet, all the better. It was only when the clinking stopped that he looked up again. Complete silence was never a good sign. Kids had a strange way of accomplishing the impossible when left to their own devices.

To his exasperation, the kid had climbed up on his desk and had his palms and face pressed against the glass of his office window, peering out into the engineering bay. Tiergan sighed, standing up and quickly picking the kid up and plopping him back down in the chair.

“Stay off my desk,” he said sternly. 

Luke harrumphed at him, crossing his arms with an exaggerated sigh, fidgeting slightly. “I’m bored though.”

“Tough,” Tiergan said unsympathetically. He glanced at the clock and then stepped back, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, staring at him for a long moment. “How did you even get down here?”

“On’a elevator,” Luke replied, the ‘duh’ not spoken but very clearly implied. “I pushed-ed the buttons all by myself! They light up when you do!”

“How did you get on the elevator?” 

Because whether he was dressed like a ranking officer or not, Tiergan seriously doubted anyone had actually given the kid a code clearance to move around on his own. 

“It was open already!” Luke chirped in reply, pleased with himself. “And then I got’s down here! It was super fast!”

“Were you by yourself?”

“Kinda,” the kid shrugged, twisting his body a little bit now to make the chair spin in a circle. “Grown-ups are slow and they was being boring. They always say ‘no’ and ‘be quiet’ and stuff like that, an’ I wanted to explore. So I did.”

Tiergan pinched the space between his eyes. So, basically, whoever was assigned to watch Lord Vader’s son had done a lousy job and let him sneak off the very first chance he’d gotten. Those idiots were going to be lucky if they survived the day. Which, in this environment and considering who they had been assigned to watch, would be no less than they deserved. But still. 

He leveled the kid with a stern look, “You know, you can get folks in a lot of trouble when you wander off like you did, Luke.” 

The kid paused in his spinning, tilting his head at him. “But Father won’t be mad at me.” He said with perfect confidence. “He says I’m very clever.” 

Tiergan raised his eyes to the ceiling, finding it a little hard to believe that he wouldn’t get in trouble somehow. Lord Vader wasn’t exactly known to be the understanding type and he held high expectations for everyone under his command. He couldn’t imagine those expectations being that different for a child. 

But wasn’t it just like a kid to only think of themselves? The bigger picture phase didn’t usually come until later in the developmental process, if he remembered properly. 

“Maybe,” Tiergan said, shrugging his shoulders. “But he’ll be mad at other people for losing you. You might not realize it but you are a very important person on this ship. Lord Vader won’t like it if something bad happens to you.”

An understatement, if there ever was one. 

While this was his first time encountering the kid, the rumor mill on the Lady was already blazing with every eye-witness experience that there had been involving Lord Vader and his son. Apparently, the dark lord did have a soft side and it had been making its appearance whenever his kid was around. But in that same sentence, the circumstances that had brought the kid here were equally known by everyone on the ship - and apparently, Lord Vader had quite literally ripped the slavers who’d had Luke Skywalker apart at the end of their interrogations.

A justified ending, if there ever was one. But not one anyone on the Executor should have to endure. 

Luke blinked, clearly having never considered such a thing before. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Tiergan agreed. “Oh.”

Luke frowned and his brow furrowed as he thought for a long moment. The intensity of his expression was almost cute. Almost. “Do ya think I can say sorry?” He asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. “That way no one gets mad?”

Tiergan glanced over his shoulder as the sound of people making their way towards his office filtered through his open door. “I think that would be a good place to start. But maybe you should also listen to the adults taking care of you next time as well.”

“Even if they’s being boring?”

“Especially if they’re being boring.” 

Luke sighed heavily. “I guess I can try.”

Tiergan rolled his eyes again and didn’t bother to respond, instead peeling himself off the wall and standing up straight as Admiral Piett and a few other officers made their appearance at last. The admiral was not someone that he saw very often, but he had a strict countenance and was known for being disciplined and well-respected. He was obviously irritated, but some obvious tension in his body eased when he laid eyes on Luke and could confirm for himself that he was alright.

One of the stormtroopers behind him made a quick call out over the radio, “Security, be advised, Vader Two has been located. No injuries or medical required.”

“Copy that.”

“Hi Pete!” Luke chirped, offering ‘Pete’ an enthusiastic wave.

“Admiral,” Tiergan nodded respectfully, offering a brief salute to his superior. It was ignored in favor of the admiral leveling an exasperated expression at the kid. 

“Young man, what were you thinking?”

Luke looked slightly taken aback by the admiral’s tone but instead of shrinking back, he puffed his chest out a little. “I was havin’ fun and went on’a adventure!” He declared boldly. 

Admiral Piett sighed, his expression stern. “We already talked about this,” he said sharply. “No adventures. You do not get to wander off from your security detail. What if you got lost? Or hurt?”

“But I didn’t.” Luke protested indignantly. “And I made a new friend - !”

“That is besides the point,” the admiral interrupted, obviously at his wits end. “This is my ship and you have to listen to the rules. You don’t get to decide which ones you obey. Do you understand me?”

Luke scowled, before looking down at the floor to avoid Admiral Piett’s stern gaze. Tiergan had to give him some credit - he had a lot of nerve for a kid. Not many adults were willing to try and go toe-to-toe against the admiral. 

“Did you hear me?” Admiral Piett demanded when the silence stretched too long.

Luke’s scowl deepened. “This is Father’s ship, not yours.” He muttered, petulant. 

One of the stormtroopers in the doorway snorted, choking back a laugh. A completely inappropriate response - it would only encourage the kid to do it again if he thought there was a chance that someone would find his actions funny. Obviously his security detail had little to no experience being around children. 

If this was the best the admiral had to work with, no wonder he looked like he was two seconds away from strangling someone. To his credit, the admiral ignored the stifled laughter, though a vein in his forehead was becoming just a little more prominent. 

“Excuse me?” Admiral Piett said, directing his comment to Luke. “Would you like to repeat that a little louder?”

Luke looked up at him then with wide, innocent eyes, recognizing in an instant that he was officially toeing a line. “Yes, Pete, I heard you.” He said quickly. 

“Good.” Admiral Piett took in a breath then and slowly exhaled, attempting to regain some composure. Then he turned to Tiergan for the first time. “Thank you, for keeping an eye on him and notifying us so quickly of his whereabouts. It is greatly appreciated.”

Tiergan nodded once. “Not at all, admiral.” 

“Luke, why don’t you say thank you to Mr. Burvick for taking care of you?” Admiral Piett said, reaching down and grabbing Luke firmly by the hand. 

The kid spent a few seconds trying to wrestle his hand back, exclaiming that he didn’t need someone to hold his hand because he wasn’t little. When his efforts failed miserably, he finally turned his attention to Tiergan, looking more than a little put out. 

“Bye,” he said, pouting a little. “And thanks for playin’ with me. I hope you finish your droid!”

Tiergan felt a small, reluctant smile pull at his lips for the first time. “Still not a droid,” he said patiently. “Try to remember what we talked about.”

Luke blinked, “Oh yeah!” He said, turning to look up at the admiral with a surprisingly earnest expression, a complete one-eighty from his previous attitude just seconds ago. “I’m sorry! I hope ya don’t get in no trouble because of me!”

Admiral Piett closed his eyes, exasperated and probably sporting a bad headache. 

Tiergan doubted very much that the admiral would escape this situation without a very, very stern reprimand, at the very least. He would be lucky if it wasn’t something far more drastic. It took a few seconds and a rather remarkable amount of patience on his part, before the admiral finally said, “Your apology has been noted… and acceptance is pending.”

With one more nod towards him, the admiral began directing Luke out of his office. The stormtroopers parted the way at the door, letting them both through. A clone medic was already peppering the kid with some questions, asking him if he was hurt, hot, feeling faint, or any other number of things. Luke's response to all of them was an overly exasperated, "Nooooooooooo. Stop askin' me that, you're no fun at all!"

Force help them all.

After a few seconds, Tiergan noticed for the first time that there was a small number of engineers grouped together nearby, watching what was taking place and whispering excitedly among themselves. The smile on his face dropped and he stepped outside his office, scowling at all of them. “Get back to work!” He snapped, waving them off. “There is nothing for you to see here - now beat it!”

They immediately scrambled, leaving the admiral to make his exit in peace. 

“Can I have lunch now, Pete?” Luke was asking, just before he and his group disappeared between some machinery, making their way back towards the lifts, completely oblivious to the stir he’d caused. “And when will Father be back?”

“Not soon enough.”