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Darth Vader had been wrong about many things in his life, but he knew one thing to be absolutely true in this moment: Luke was in danger. Vader reached out to sense the boy, his presence becoming more solid and clear in the Force as Vader’s shuttle approached the planet. Although Luke’s presence was still heavily guarded since their encounter on Bespin, it was still brighter than a supernova nonetheless.
Vader looked over to his most trusted officer, Admiral Firmus Piett, who was preparing the shuttle for landing. No one could know about this mission to retrieve the rebellion’s most loved son, better known as Imperial enemy number one. If even a single soul found out the truth about why Vader planned to rescue Luke Skywalker himself, the galaxy would not only be tipped into a tizzy of chaos, but Vader would risk the boy’s allies betraying him. If Vader was ever to attempt a connection of substance with his son, he knew he had to tread delicately, especially considering how much the boy’s friends meant to him.
Piett, however, was different. Not only did he have a sharp mind and a work ethic to make a thousand drill sergeants envious, but his loyalties lied with Vader, not the Empire. Knowing this as absolute fact, and knowing he could not complete this mission alone, Vader made the difficult decision to confide the truth in Piett. Although very clearly shocked at the disclosure of Vader’s true connection to Luke, Piett agreed to the mission without hesitation. Star systems full of follow up questions seemed to swarm around Piett’s head, but like the wise man he was, he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head, ready for next orders.
“Preparing for landing, my lord,” Piett stated as he readied the shuttle. Vader released as much of a sigh as his respirator would allow, sending yet another prayer to the Force that Luke wasn’t injured beyond repair.
As the shuttle touched down into a vacant cave to avoid onlookers (although this planet seemed deserted to say the least), Vader reached for his saber and hooked it to his belt. He handed Piett his SE-14 pistol, and Piett looked up to him with an expression of concern that Vader had only seen on him in such gravity after the Millennium Falcon escaped their grasp on Bespin.
“If I should perish, Firmus,” Vader said gravely. “Look after my son. Take him to the nearest medical freighter and ensure he is cared for properly. Do not allow him to fall into the hands of the Emperor.” Piett, although swallowing hard, nodded.
“If that should be the case, I will ensure he is safe, my lord,” Piett affirmed. Vader nodded once, then lowered the ramp to the shuttle.
After following the boy’s Force presence for quite some time with Piett close in tow, his blaster at the ready should anyone interrupt their journey, Vader finally heard a peculiar sound. The closer he listened, the harder his stomach dropped.
Luke.
From even half a mile away, Vader heard the boy cry out in anguish, the sound preceded by the distinct snap of a whip.
“There!” Vader said, then started off into a painful run. Piett kept close behind as they approached what seemed to be a village square.
A crowd gathered around a tall post, and as Vader approached closer, he found it to be a whipping post, with his son tied to the bottom. He had been stripped of a shirt, leaving his skin exposed to the elements, and a nasty array of slash marks and blood painted his back. Vader felt his blood boil, and before he could consider a plan, he ignited his lightsaber and stepped in front of the boy. Piett followed close behind and aimed his gun at the crowd, a silent threat to anyone who dared to interfere.
“Father,” the boy exhaled, winded and in pain as his face pressed against the pole. Vader turned around, putting himself between the boy and this mystery aggressor. He was a human male of about forty standard years, standing with the whip raised back behind him, ready to strike again.
“Move,” he growled. After Vader refused to do so, a maniacal smirk teased the corners of the man’s lips. “You want one, too?” Vader didn’t have time to wonder why this man didn’t cower in his presence, all that mattered was setting Luke free. If the boy wasn’t in danger, Vader would have taken the man into custody, where he would beg for death, rotting away in a cell aboard the Executor. However, Vader had other matters to attend to in the form of his son; he would have to satisfy his thirst for revenge elsewhere at another time.
Without another word, Vader slashed his saber through the man’s throat, leaving all the townspeople as witnesses. Before he could even watch the light leave the man’s eyes, he ran to the boy and cut through his restraints. Piett was quickly at his side and assisted him in helping the boy upright. Vader scooped the boy up into his arms and started toward the shuttle, Piett covering him from behind as they vacated the townsquare.
~~~
After what felt like a lifetime of a journey back to the Executor, Vader carried Luke to his private wing in the medical bay. He managed to do so without the prying eyes of the others aboard the ship by way of the concealed passage from the outside. Piett docked the ship and quickly escorted Vader and son to the medical wing.
Once they arrived at the med bay, medics immediately took Luke in on a gurney and rushed him away. Vader tried to follow, but the lead medic insisted, although with great fear on her face, that Vader would need to wait until the team could fully assess Luke and stabilize him. It was with great reluctance Vader agreed, then followed the lead medic to a private room to wait for his son.
Hour after hour dragged on in the solitary room. Piett surely had other duties to complete, as he was already out for almost a standard day, but he waited with Vader as if Luke were his own son. The pair sat in silence, the weight of the day’s events hitting them both, until finally a medic entered the room and announced that Luke was stable. He led Vader and Piett to the furthest room and opened the door to present a very badly beaten, yet awake, Luke Skywalker. He was lying in a medical cot, hooked up to numerous IVs, with a look of immense worry on his youthful face.
“Luke,” Vader exhaled immediately, stepping forward and arriving at his bedside. Vader ever so gently cupped the boy’s face in his gloved hand, taking in each gash and bruise on his face. Force, Vader knew the boy had been held for at least a few standard days, but he could now see how much advantage the aggressors took of that time with Luke. Vader wished he could have killed those monsters slower.
Although Luke locked eyes with Vader for a moment, his gaze drifted to Piett in the doorway.
“Luke, this is Admiral Firmus Piett,” Vader introduced. “Admiral, this is my son, Luke Skywalker.” Luke’s eyes grew at the mention of his connection to Vader, but having prior knowledge of this connection, Piett merely stepped forward with his hand outstretched to shake the boy’s hand.
“A pleasure to meet you properly, sir,” Piett said as he shook his hand. Luke nodded, shaking his hand in return, then looked back up to Vader, still speechless.
“Admiral, leave us,” Vader requested, still not taking his eyes off the boy. “You may return to your duties. I will seek you out after I have spoken with my son.”
“As you wish, milord,” Piett answered with a nod, leaving father with son.
After another bout of silence, Vader finally sat on the end of the boy’s bed, still never breaking eye contact.
“What is on your mind, son?” Vader asked, not only having no way of seeing for himself due to Luke’s industrial shields, but he wouldn’t violate Luke like that, especially not after all he’d been through these past few days.
Luke finally dropped his gaze to the sheet covering his injured body, fiddling with the hem.
“Why…why would you rescue me?” the boy finally asked.
Vader felt a stun bolt penetrate through his chest and reverberate through his whole body- why would he rescue Luke? Why wouldn’t he? How could he not?
“Luke…” Vader faltered. “You…you are my flesh and blood. Why wouldn’t I?” It was then Vader realized the boy had begun crying.
“I thought you wanted me dead.” Once again, Vader felt the stun bolt to his chest, this time reverberating twice as hard.
“Why would you say such a thing?” Vader asked, trying to keep his horror and disappointment out of his tone.
“You cut off my hand,” the boy said softly to the blanket. Vader sighed, not able to argue with him. After all, even though it was in a fit of rage, Vader did harm the boy permanently.
“A regrettable mistake,” Vader finally admitted. “One that will not happen again.”
“How can I trust you?” Luke asked, finally looking up to meet Vader’s eyes through the mask once again.
“I saved you, did I not?”
“Probably just to pull me to the Dark,” Luke said with some mix of venom and defeat. The boy sighed. “You’re not going to let me go, are you?”
“That decision is yours to make,” Vader stated.
“I have a choice?” Vader nodded once.
“You are the only one who can decide to stay or go, son,” Vader affirmed. “I will not hold you as a prisoner or anything of the sort.”
Luke nodded, but quickly winced as he seemed to aggravate an injury. Vader set a gentle hand on his bicep as he stood.
“Rest, son,” he said. “I will return soon.”
The boy merely bowed his head back down to the sheet, looking as though he might cry again.
“Father?” the boy called as Vader began to exit the room. He turned around, gesturing for him to continue. “What would happen? If I stay?” Vader sighed.
“You would be free from harm,” Vader finally answered. “And I would care for you like a proper father.” Luke kept his gaze to the sheet.
“I’ll think about it,” the boy finally responded. Although reluctant, Vader nodded, knowing that was the best he could expect of the boy in the present moment.
As hard as it was to accept, Vader knew the boy was not seeking an alliance, at least not immediately. It would take some time, Vader knew, but this was a start, and that was all Vader could ask for.