Chapter Text
Darth Vader was not a man accustomed to emotional noise.
The Empire ran on order. On discipline. On fear that was clean, precise, and mathematically distributed across star systems like a well-calibrated equation.
And yet—somewhere in the machinery of his life—something had jammed.
Luke Skywalker
The name had arrived like a transmission with too much static. A Rebel pilot. Destroyer of the Death Star. A ghost with impossible reflexes and an infuriating talent for surviving things that should have killed him five times over.
Vader had reviewed the footage.
Paused it.
Replayed it.
Zoomed in.
Not on the ship. Not on the explosion.
On him.
There was a flicker in the Force that Vader refused to name out loud even inside his own mind. Naming it would make it real. Real things required decisions. Decisions required consequences.
So instead, he did what the Empire expected:
He issued a bounty.
Alive only.
Publicly, it was brutality. A personal vendetta. The terrifying will of Darth Vader focusing on a single Rebel pilot so he could “deliver justice himself.”
Privately, it was the only way he could ensure no one else killed his son before he could figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with that information.
#######
Emperor Palpatine remained unaware.
Which was, in Vader’s estimation, the most fragile lie in the galaxy.
Vader’s deception had led to him removing Luke’s last name from all records and reports.
The Emperor believed this was simple rage. A wounded weapon lashing out after a humiliating defeat. Palpatine approved the bounty with thin amusement, even praising Vader for his “focus.”
Vader bowed.
“Yes, my Master.”
And thought: If you only knew.
#######
Luke Skywalker did not think about any of this.
He thought about surviving.
About the strange tightening in the Force whenever the black shape of Vader appeared in his mind like a storm cloud that knew his name personally.
He told himself it was a coincidence.
He told himself he was not important enough to matter to Darth Vader specifically.
Then he watched another Rebel squad get torn apart while Vader ignored everyone else just to follow him through debris, through fire, through collapsing corridors.
It didn’t feel like hatred.
It felt like a pursuit.
Personal pursuit.
And that was somehow worse.
#######
WANTED
NAME: Luke
CRIMES:
- Treason and Sedition
- Destruction of the Death Star
REWARD: 60,000 credits
CONDITION: Alive only, execution is reserved for Lord Vader
Stormtroopers whispered about it.
Bounty hunters laughed at it.
“Sounds like Lord Vader wants to make an example,” one of them said.
But none of them noticed the small inconsistency in the orders:
Every encounter directive included a clause that made no tactical sense.
“Minimize harm during capture.”
And another:
“Do not allow the subject to fall into external custody under any circumstances.”
And, buried at the bottom in encrypted priority text:
“If found injured, stabilize immediately.”
No one commented on that last one.
No one dared.
#######
Vader stood alone in his meditation chamber.
The hum of the ship was distant, like an ocean behind thick glass.
He reached out through the Force.
Found him.
As always.
Luke was moving. Restless. Alive in that infuriating way young people were alive—like death was a rumor they hadn’t fully believed yet.
Vader’s hand tightened slightly.
He had expected rage.
What he found instead was… hesitation.
Because every time he got close enough to end this, to end anyone who got close to Luke, something else rose up.
Not weakness.
Recognition.
A memory that didn’t belong to Darth Vader, but to the man buried underneath him.
And that man—who he refused to name—had opinions.
Unhelpful ones.
Like: Don’t let him get hurt.
And worse: He’s mine.
Vader cut the thought off immediately.
That way led to things the Empire did not survive.
#######
On a remote Rebel outpost, Luke Skywalker looked at the latest bounty transmission.
Alive only.
That part was new.
He frowned.
“Why does the most dangerous man in the galaxy want me alive specifically?” he muttered.
Someone behind him said, “Maybe he wants to interrogate you.”
Luke didn’t answer.
Because the Force, unhelpfully, gave him a feeling he could not explain.
Not fear.
Not hatred.
Something closer to attention.
Like someone watching over him from a very long distance… making sure he didn’t fall.
And Luke, against all logic, thought:
That can’t be right.
#######
Far away, Darth Vader reviewed interception routes.
Every plan ended the same way:
He would reach Luke first.
He would ensure no one else touched him.
He would bring him in.
Alive.
And then—
Then he would finally decide what kind of guardian the galaxy had accidentally forced him to become.
He did not say the word “father.”
But the Force did not care what he refused to say out loud.
It already knew.
#######
The first time Boba Fett saw the updated bounty, he stared at it for a long moment.
LUKE
ALIVE ONLY
Priority Alpha
No permanent injuries.
That last part wasn't public.
It was in the encrypted copy that only Vader's contracted hunters received.
Boba read it twice. But what caught his eye, was the picture attached.
Then leaned back in the pilot's chair of Slave I.
"...Huh."
Most people would've seen an unusually specific contract.
Boba saw something else.
#######
He already knew Darth Vader had once been Anakin Skywalker.
Over the years, enough pieces had fallen into place.
The fighting style.
The height.
The voice.
The Force.
The timeline.
Boba had never cared enough to mention it.
Everyone had secrets.
This one happened to wear black armor.
Now…
Luke.
The right age.
A farm boy from Tatooine.
Absurd piloting skills.
Strong in the Force.
Wanted alive by Vader at literally any cost.
And that picture, a perfect mixture of features of Anakin, and a certain Queen and Senator of Naboo.
Boba slowly removed his helmet.
"...Seriously?"
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"You had one job."
Silence.
"I mean... not the Death Star thing."
More silence.
"The contraception thing."