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Forbidden - Part 9

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: LOVE AND THE DEATHSTRYKE

Vader's POV

Vader smiled as he stepped into Hangar Bay 13E, home of the Deathstryke. He hefted the duffle bags that contained clothes and other necessities that Luke and he would need on their journey to Tatooine and started walking towards the ship that looked more like a clutch of knives than a spacecraft. The Deathstryke's skin was burnished to a mirror shine and reflected Vader's image back darkly.

The Dark Lord had only to approach the ship before it hummed to life and the gangway lowered with a whoosh of ozone-tainted air. The Deathstryke only responded to his biometrics. It was a failsafe against the Emperor and his spies discovering the ship's true capabilities. He would have to program it to accept his son and Qui-Gon, too. Considering he had used biometrics as a safeguard against illegal access, Vader was annoyed at himself for not thinking of it in regards to the Jedi Archive.

Hopefully, the Deathstryke would soon enough be leading them to Coruscant and the old Jedi Temple's doors to rectify that oversight. Vader shuddered and drew his long coat closer around him. He told himself it was a reaction to the cool air expressed from the Deathstryke's interior and nothing to do with his feelings about going back to the Temple.

"She has a wicked beauty," Qui-Gon said as he stepped up to Vader's side at the base of the gangway.

"Yes, that she does. The Deathstryke is my greatest achievement," Vader said, surprised that of all the things he had done, his ship was the one that pleased him most. Then with a smile he added, "Except for Luke, of course."

"Of course," Qui-Gon answered with a mirroring smile.

"But I can hardly take credit for him, can I? He's very much his own man. And I wasn't there to shape that," Vader said, his lips twisting slightly, wondering if that hadn't been for the best after all. He was not at all sure he would have been a good father back then to a sensitive but strong-willed child.

"Luke is very much … himself. But you have played a great role in that. Even absent from his life. His yearning for you and needing you made a great impression on him. And now finding you and having this relationship. All of these things have shaped him and will continue to so. As they shape you, too," Qui-Gon said.

"Yes, I'm surprised at how much influence he has on me." Vader grinned as he thought of the imperiousness his son had accused himself of earlier, which he had mostly shed. At least in his dealings with his child. That was the smallest of the changes he had undergone since Luke had entered his life. Vader's mirth faded as he voiced his earlier thoughts, "Things would have been different for both of us if I had raised him from the beginning. But perhaps not altogether in a good way."

Vader wasn't surprised by the gentle touch of Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder or the strengthening of the warmth in the bond between them. He shut his eyes to just absorb this feeling that he had never had with any other Master before. He felt a bit like a sun-starved flower finally being flooded with light.

"It is natural to wonder what could have been if you and he had grown up together," Qui-Gon said.

"But?" Vader prodded, knowing there was a qualifier.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the past is the past. It cannot be changed. We can only attempt to influence what happens now and in the future," Qui-Gon paused then and Vader could almost see him weighing his next words.

"Tell me, Master. Tell me whatever it is that you are reluctant to," Vader pressed.

"Just that perhaps there might be some … benefit … in meeting your son as a man."

Vader chewed his lower lip. It was unnatural to feel open to speaking about things. But he knew deep in his soul that he could tell Qui-Gon anything, even the darkest things, and he would not be rejected.

Keeping all that in mind, Vader slowly began to speak, "You said once that you believed that Luke and my … relationship … as it is now was a good thing, because it strengthened our bond and … helped the Balance."

"Yes, I did. And I still believe that."

"I don't regret … could never regret … what we have now. I love it. I love him. I could not bear for him to be with another and I know he feels the same about me. There was only a little … coercion … on my part in the beginning. But I know he wants the relationship we have. I have no doubt about that." Vader swallowed. "But what if I had raised him from the time he was an infant … would I have … taken …"

Vader broke off, gritting his teeth. There was no use in fearing what might have happened in the past. Like Qui-Gon said, it was beyond changing. But his stomach roiled with the thought of what he might have done and what that might mean about what he could do in the future. He had just been paralyzed in the shower by the fear he would lose control and hurt Luke in his passion.

Qui-Gon tightened his grip on Vader's shoulder. "You fear that you would have taken him as a child, don't you? Whether he would have been old enough to consent or no?"

Vader found he could not meet the other man's eyes. "I've done so many things. Terrible things that I … that I do not regret. Because I do not care about those they happened to, but Luke … with Luke I care. I fear myself. I fear what I am capable of."

"That is why we are going to train together. That is the purpose of it," Qui-Gon said, his voice full of conviction. "So that whatever you do, you will do it because you will it and for no other reason."

Vader tightened his hands on the duffels. "I thought I willed all those things before, Master. When I lost my temper … I knew that I was out of control. But there were many times when I acted in cold-blood. I do not know if any amount of training can … change what I am inside."

"And what do you think you are inside, Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked.

"A man who throttled his pregnant wife and cut off his son's hand among many other things," Vader responded softly. "So do not deceive yourself, Qui-Gon, the person you have taken as your apprentice is not a good man."

He watched Qui-Gon's reflection in the Deathstryke, but his features were too distorted to know what he was feeling. So Vader took a chance to dart a glance at him. The handsome older man's expression was filled with a strange understanding.

"When I first met you, you risked your life to help me," Qui-Gon said. "Do not discount that action and all the other selfless things you've done."

"I helped you, because I knew you were a Jedi and I wanted … I wanted to get your attention. To be close to you. Don't put any other good purpose—"

"You fear I deceive myself about the goodness in you, but I think you deceive yourself just as much about the evil," Qui-Gon interrupted him firmly. "But in truth, there is but one question that you must answer for yourself to put this issue to rest: would you choose to hurt Luke now?"

"No," Vader said without hesitation. "I love him. He is my soul."

"Then all we need worry about are those times when your temper or an outside force would cause you to harm him. The rest is in your control, Anakin."

The Jedi Master's presence glowed softly in the Force. It was not a humble strength by any means. It was steady and strong. Vader found himself reaching for it; gravitating towards that inviting warmth where he was safe. His Force presence touched Qui-Gon's and there was a flare of amber light in the older man's Force signature; a glimpse of a deeper, darker power that lay hidden beneath the sunny golden outer layer. Like lava under a thin earthen crust. Vader's breath caught at the sight of it. He could almost scent this Dark power: rich and decadent. And very old. Veined with ancient knowledge.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked.

Vader shook his head. The flare was gone as if it had never been, but Vader knew he had sensed it. The question was: what did it mean? Was it proof that Qui-Gon was the ancient Sith reincarnated or had that being snuck into the Jedi Master's soul? He felt ill at the thought of Qui-Gon being compromised, but worse was that part of him that felt exhilarated to be near such power, to be wanted by it.

"Anakin, are you all right?"

The Jedi Master was framing Vader's face with his hands much like Vader would do with Luke. Concerned gray eyes gazed into his with that piercing intensity that left Vader feeling he had nowhere to hide from this man, even within the confines of his own mind.

"Padawan, talk to me," Qui-Gon ordered when Vader still said nothing.

"I thought I saw … something … in you," Vader said. He tried to draw away but Qui-Gon held him firm.

"Some …thing?"

There was an unconscious note of demand in the Jedi Master's tone that instead of rankling the Dark Lord encouraged him to obey. But then again hadn't he always responded well to a strong older man who petted him as well as ordered him about? And since he knew that this man actually cared for him, his desire to please was greater. Vader winced at this new self-knowledge.

"Something of the ancient Sith … in you," Vader answered.

Qui-Gon turned his head away, his expression too blank, but he did not release Vader even as he clearly contemplated something privately.

"Do you think it's true?" Vader asked. "That you're … him? Reborn. Reincarnated."

Qui-Gon's head swung back to face him, but his eyes and feelings were opaque to Vader.

"I don't know. I honestly … don't know."

"Do you think he was my father in that past life?" Vader heard the words escape his mouth before he consciously formed them in his mind.

"He claims to somehow be your father in this one," Qui-Gon remarked softly then studied Vader, mapping the planes of his face with his eyes, as if there was some answer there. Finally, he answered further, "I only know that if I am this ancient Sith, reincarnated, then I also hope that I am your father as well."

A myriad of feelings rolled through Vader like a wave. He couldn't understand most of them. Oddly, he felt the prick of tears behind his eyes and he succeeded this time in drawing away from the older man. He faced the Deathstryke, taking comfort in her cold lines.

"How can we trust anything he says when he claims two things that cannot both be true?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you were him in this past life and he is my father in that one and this one … that would mean you are my father in this life, wouldn't it?" Vader's head felt like it was spinning and a weight suddenly was on his chest as he added, "And we know that you aren't my father now. We do … know … that, don't we?"

"At least in this life, I have only ever slept with men, Anakin. So yes, we know that I did not impregnate Shmi. But … there might be another possibility of how the ancient Sith could be telling the truth on both counts," Qui-Gon said.

"What other possibility?" Vader asked, his shoulders relaxing as tension bled away with that confirmation.

"It's just the barest of ideas. I loathe to even voice it, because I could be completely wrong."

"You must learn to trust me with your thoughts as I am learning to trust you with mine, Qui-Gon," Vader said.

"You're right. Forgive me, Anakin. I do value your counsel greatly." Qui-Gon squared his shoulders then began to explain, "I have been thinking about how your mother became pregnant seemingly without any other individual involved."

"What significance do you place on that?"

"Well, we saw how Luke was able to create me out of the body of that dragon. Something like that could have happened to Shmi when she entered that city in the desert. Perhaps there was only enough energy in that place to make an embryo, but not a full being. Perhaps all it took was her coming there and touching the medallion to give that energy a place to go: inside her womb. To make you," Qui-Gon offered.

Vader was silent for long moments. Could such a thing be true? Who would have left that energy? The ancient Sith? But the ability to create life as Luke had done was a Light Side power not a Dark one so the ancient Sith could not be behind it. Yet such a "conception" would explain his father-less birth and the ancient Sith's claims. His hand brushed against the pocket that held the Archive.

"That sounds as likely an answer as any," Vader said slowly.

"As I said before, it is just a vague idea. I know not its worth." Qui-Gon stopped then bit his lower lip before adding, "Selfish as it may sound … I hope that it is the truth. Not for the least of which is because I do not wish to share you with another."

Vader's head jerked up at that and he risked a look at the Jedi Master. "What do you mean? "

Qui-Gon gave him a rueful smile. "One of the things that Jedi Masters feel about their Padawans, which they will rarely admit, is a sense of … possessiveness. This is their Padawan. Their student. To mold and … to bond with. The Master should be the most important person in that student's life … at least for a time until the student takes their own Padawan. But I never got to have that with you. And even now … I must share you with Luke. I would not like to split that attention even more."

One of those unexpected blushes flamed Vader's cheeks as pleasure and surprise ran through him. Qui-Gon was possessive of him. That fact gave him a sense of belonging and safety that he had never felt with any other Master before. `I must stop expecting him to behave like Obi-Wan or Sidious. He is a completely different man from them. And I am different, too, than when I was with them,' Vader thought.

The Dark Lord framed his reply carefully as he said, "What I feel for you and what I feel for Luke are two different things. They do not … converge. And any … father … appearing out the woodwork now … well, he would have no place whatsoever after abandoning me. My point is that you needn't worry that … that my feelings for you are or would be diminished in any way by having these others in my life."

Qui-Gon gently squeezed the back of Vader's neck, a wide smile lighting his face.

"Thank you for humoring your foolish Master's baseless jealousy, Anakin," he said with one final press of his hand against the sensitive flesh of Vader's neck before releasing him.

"We should stow our things," Vader said after a long moment, disconcerted by the fact that his bare skin tingled where Qui-Gon's hand had been. It was the exact spot the older man had touched in the vision. Vader felt a sense of vertigo and his thoughts tumbled, `He would always touch me there then hold my hair to the side and kiss that same place. It was to show he loved me. That I belonged to him.'

"Yes, it is high time we are got on our way. I do not want you to get a parsec closer to Sidious," Qui-Gon said, seemingly unaware of Vader's reaction to their last exchange.

"We are just waiting on Luke. He is saying goodbye to Salara and Joran," Vader said, faintly.

Was that a true memory he'd just had? It was only when Vader picked up on his son's golden presence approaching the hanger bay that he shook off the strange sense of dislocation. He frowned when he felt Joran and Damon's less powerful presences along with his boy's.

"That damn trooper. He must have a death wish," Vader murmured.

Qui-Gon gave him a rueful smile. "Luke has an … effect … on people. Especially, I would imagine on an impressionable young man like Damon."

"Damon is a fool," Vader growled. "And maybe worse. I don't trust him not to tell the Emperor all he knows about us. Undoubtedly willingly. Probably eagerly. He'll believe he's helping Luke and that the Emperor will make a gift of my son to him if he betrays us."

"I may have made an error then," Qui-Gon said with his forehead furrowing. "I explained to both him and Salara that we would not be journeying with them all the way to Coruscant, but that we would contact them … later … once things are in place for their training. And that they should lay quite low until then."

"I'm glad you did. I should have thought of it myself. For if the Emperor were to see that Joran is empathic … it would not be good for him," Vader said.

The Emperor's Dark aura surrounded him like a miasma of rotting foulness. It was hard sometimes for Vader to be in his presence, but to have an unshielded empathic child in it would be unspeakable. Then there would be Sidious' intentional manipulations of the Joran. The little boy would have no protections against the elder Sith. Such attentions would probably cause Joran to go mad or twist him into something beyond recognition.

Seeing that Qui-Gon was still ill at ease with his decision about speaking with Damon, Vader added, "The Emperor will know soon enough that we are gone from the Executor so Damon has no information to give him of any value on that point. It might even be best if Damon were to disappear like Salara and Damon as soon as he is dirtside. Hearing it first from you and then from me might actually have an impact."

At that moment, the doors to the hangar bay opened and through them Joran came skipping in beside Luke, speaking in his rapid-fire child way, his little face shining, eyes sparking with joy as Luke listened to him. Salara was covering her mouth to stop from laughing at whatever Joran was saying. Damon walked beside Salara, also smiling, but his eyes were fixed on Luke's back until they strayed over Luke's shoulder and met Vader's gaze. Vader dropped the duffels on the ground. His hands crossed behind him and his jaw flexed with annoyance.

`Do not bother with him, Padawan. You have Luke's heart. He cannot steal it away,' Qui-Gon sent over their bond.

`I know, Master. It is that he should think he could poach Luke from me, which is infuriating,' Vader responded.

`But he knows not that Luke is with you in that way. He probably thinks you are merely a disapproving father who might relent if he shows his worth,' Qui-Gon pointed out.

Discomfiture flowed over Vader. Damon would only be the first of many to seek Luke's hand. The fact that the trooper cared for Luke because of his character, and not because he was Vader's child, did not make his crush any more tolerable. For a moment, Vader felt the weight of the secrecy of their relationship and wished it gone. But he had promised the boy and himself that it would be Luke's decision.

The four had finally crossed the length of the hangar and stopped before Vader and Qui-Gon.

Joran's prattle ended with, " … and that's when the Rancor ate his speeder, Master Luke. Ate it right up in one bite. But I bet if the man with the speeder had a lightsaber like yours he could have stopped the Rancor. He could have poked him and made the Rancor go away!"

"Having been that close to a Rancor's mouth once, I do not think I would want to be in that position again to discover if such poking could be successful," Luke responded soberly, even as his mouth twitched into a smile.

Both Damon and Salara burst into laughter. Vader found himself grinning, too, but he firmed his expression again as he jerked his head to the side, gesturing for Damon to separate himself from the group and talk to Vader privately.

`Father, he hasn't done anything,' Luke sent over their bond, a touch of dismay in his mind-voice as he saw Vader's intentions to speak with Damon.

`I know, young one. And I am endeavoring to make sure it stays that way. Trust me. No blood will be spilt,' Vader sent.

Vader and Damon walked together about twenty feet off from the rest of the group. Damon mimicked Vader's stance with his wrists clasped behind his back. His tan uniform, which, as a trooper he was required to wear when not on duty, was crisp and clean. His shoes shone and hair was cut to perfect regulation length. His grey eyes met Vader's and the Dark Lord had grudging respect for the fact that he did not look away.

"You wished to speak with me, Lord Vader?" Damon inquired.

"Yes, as you are aware, we are leaving the ship. But the Executor will travel on to Coruscant with you, Salara and Joran," Vader said.

"May I ask why you are leaving—"

"The less you know, the better," Vader interrupted him. "It is not our plans about which I wish to speak to you."

"Of course, my lord. My apologies."

"I would caution you to make yourself scare upon arrival in Coruscant."

The young man's shoulders jerked at that. "What? But why?"

"The Emperor knows you have been brought back from the dead by Luke. He will want to know how that was done," Vader said, his eyes boring into Damon's. "Such knowledge will come from a Force interrogation of your mind and a thorough examination of your body. And knowing the Emperor as I do … such things will not be done gently and will likely result in your joining the dead again."

Damon's eyes widened and his face paled. "I see. I understand. My family will aid me in getting away."

"Will they? Against the Emperor and the Empire?"

"Yes. Our loyalty has always been first to our family, second to our squad, and third to the Empire," Damon said proudly.

"Hmmm, that is good to know for the future," Vader responded, even as he evaluated that information in order to assess Commander Piett's loyalty to him in that hierarchy.

"Lord Vader … why are you telling me this? Why are you warning me and not the other troopers?" The younger man almost looked hopeful as if he was being given special treatment.

Vader nearly laughed at that. The only special treatment that Damon would receive from him would not be pleasant. But his eyes met Luke's and he tightened his grip on his temper.

"I had not considered it until I saw you. But I expect you will pass along this information to your fellow troopers if you are a man of honor," Vader said crisply.

"Of course, I will. Things are going to change, aren't they?" Damon asked. "The Empire … it’s either going to be you or him, isn't it?"

"Yes. A reckoning is coming between Sidious and me," Vader said.

"I see," Damon said calmly as if he had no doubts or fears about what this reckoning would do.

"Do you? I wonder." Vader arched an eyebrow at him. This boy was much too secure and the Dark Lord had the urge to puncture that self-assurance.

"You have been our commander for over twenty years. My family has prospered in the military. The Emperor is but a politician while you are our leader who has fought beside us fearlessly," Damon said. "If you are worried about our allegiance, you need not for those reasons and others."

Vader bristled at the younger man's dismissal. "Do not be so swift to discount the Emperor or his possible effect on you and yours. He is a Sith Lord. Thousands of years old. He is not a mere anything. He is a deadly enemy and you will be but a pawn to him in this battle."

"You sound as if you are attempting to dissuade me from taking your side," Damon said.

"Then you truly understand nothing. I am stressing the danger you, personally, are soon to be in so that you will take appropriate precautions and not give the Emperor any slight advantage in this battle." Vader began to pace as he explained, "Understand that even if you believe that you could somehow avoid the interrogation and dissection that he has in store for you, if you truly are grateful to Luke for the life he has gifted you with, you will cut your own throat before you use it to voice the Emperor's rallying cry. Because no matter what happens, Luke will never serve the Emperor. And no matter what the Emperor might promise you, he will never let you have Luke."

"And what about you, Lord Vader? Would you … let me have Luke?"

Vader stilled. He closed his eyes for a long moment. The urge to kill Damon was so strong it felt like a physical thing that was pulling at his hand, drawing it to the hilt of his saber. But he did not move. His hands remained loose at his sides. He repeated part of the mantra that Qui-Gon had given him while adding his own twist: `I have Luke's heart. He cannot steal it away. I have Luke's heart. And it will be wounded if I split Damon open right here.'

Finally, he opened his eyes and turned on his heel so that they were looking at one another. "If you value life, do not ask me such a question again."

"What is your objection to me, Lord Vader? My lack of rank?" Damon hands slipped from behind his back and moved in front of him as if to touch the Dark Lord, but he held back. "I hoped that it would show a self-made man like you that I am not riding on the coattails of my family's name or fortune, but am instead eager to prove myself on my own merit. But I do have that name and fortune … if that matters to you."

Vader didn't know how to react. All he could think of as a response was: `Luke is mine!' But he couldn't say that. He didn't know what Luke wanted to do about their relationship. And with Joran and Salara looking on, he was even more restricted in his response. He supposed he could mind-wipe them all, but Luke would never want that.

Suddenly Luke's arm was looped through one of his and the boy was securely by his side. Vader's Force presence immediately wrapped around his son's. The boy's warmth filtered through all the way to Vader's core and the anger receded.

"Damon," Luke said softly and yet there was nothing hesitant in his tone. "I can never be yours."

Damon's stoic, insolent air suddenly vanished as if it was but a puff of smoke. His voice sounded so young as he asked simply, "Why?"

"Because I am already someone else's," Luke explained. "So for your own sake, if not for mine, please let this … desire for something more with me … go."

"But who …"

Damon grey eyes grew large as he suddenly saw how close Vader and Luke were standing, observed how their hands were linked, and sensed their Force presences twined together. Understanding, disgust and horror crossed his features. His eyes narrowed, his mouth puckered, his skin flushed and paled alternately and he began to shake his head violently in denial. Vader felt Luke mentally brace for the words that were to come from him even as he physically tightened his hold on his father's hand.

"No! That's … that's wrong. That's sick!" His gaze jerked to Vader, as he said, "You've done something to Luke to make him … be … with you like this! I've thought many things about you … but now I know you're truly evil to do this with your own son!"

"You insolent fool!" Vader began but Luke stopped him from saying or doing more with a firm tug on their bond.

`Let me handle this, Father, please!'

"Damon, it's not like that. He hasn't forced me in any way. I wanted this before he did," Luke pled, reaching for Damon's understanding while he kept hold of Vader's hand. "He loves me. I love him. There's nothing bad about it. I know you don't understand how we can feel this way for each other, but you can understand that it's something I want."

Vader thrilled to hear Luke's defense of what they were. Then Damon went to grab Luke's arm and physically pull him away from Vader. The trooper's eyes were wild. Luke easily sidestepped his clumsy grasp. Vader's desire to send the trooper reeling to the ground with one blow rose up, but again Luke's need for him to stay out of it came over their bond again and he paused. He clenched his free hand into a fist.

"You don't know what you're saying, Luke! He's only made you think that! You're innocent. You're pure. I could tell that the first moment when you pulled me back from the abyss!" Damon said.

Vader had an impression of wide eyes from Joran and Salara and a grim-faced Qui-Gon stepping in front of them to protect them from what was to come or to shield Luke and him from their gaze. Vader wasn't sure which. Then his attention snapped back to the trooper.

Damon ran a hand through his short hair. Vader imagined he would have ripped some of it out if it hadn't been too short to catch a hold of. He was murmuring, `no' under his breath. His eyes flickered between Luke and Vader and the floor. His Force presence was wildly fluctuating from Light to Dark and back again as if the war between the two sides was somehow fixed in this young man for one moment.

Luke was suddenly releasing Vader's arm and stepping towards Damon, his hands outstretched with his palms down as if Damon was a disturbed animal. And perhaps he was. Luke gently touched Damon's heaving shoulders and the young man's tension seemed to lessen.

"It's all right. It's all right, Damon. Don't let these thoughts destroy you. Let them go," Luke said.

Damon's head suddenly jerked up even as his Force presence seemed to settle. Vader couldn't tell if Light or Dark had won out, only that something had.

 "No, Luke. I won't let them or you go. I know you will not leave him now. But I swear to you, I will free you from his influence, from this spell he has you under! I know that is my task," Damon said, his eyes gleamed.

Vader growled, but Luke's Force presence kept him back. Never had his son seemed so strong and yet so vulnerable all at the same time. And Luke would not let him help.

"Damon, you're not listening to me! I am not under any spell! I am not being coerced!" Luke shouted.

Damon placed two fingers over Luke's mouth. "Don't try to convince me otherwise. It is as useless as me trying to convince you that I am right about your relationship with … with him … at this moment. It cannot be done."

"This is a vain thing you are setting as a goal. A foolish thing. Don't do this!" Luke said.

"I must save you from him. It is what the Force wants me to do. Don't you see that?" Damon asked, his eyes too bright, glassy with conviction, his skin flushed with zeal.

"Luke is right, Damon. Don't do this. Don't go down this path," Qui-Gon said.

But Vader could see that the young man was not reachable by reason or even emotion at that point. He was lost to this cause he had set himself up for. Vader knew he had to kill Damon now or risk the trooper causing trouble for them later. His Force powers coiled tightly within them. Tempting as it was to make the younger man suffer, Vader decided to stop his heart. Vader knew that once the heart was stopped, the trooper would merely collapse and it wouldn't look too terrible to Salara or Joran. It would seem a natural, if unfortunate, occurrence of an overexcited young man whose body just gave out.

"Luke, you must believe that I love you and that this is right," Damon argued.

Vader could feel the rushing of his own blood then as he reached for the trooper with his Force powers.

"I know you think you feel these things. But you don't, Damon," Luke said. "I'd never brought anyone back from death before you. We have no idea what that might have done to you!"

Time seemed to slow as Vader's mind synced with the pumping of Damon's young, strong heart.

"I know what it's done to me. Only good things!"

Just as Vader was about to stop Damon's heart, Luke suddenly pivoted on his heel to face Vader, his face wrenched with pain and shock as he finally sensed Vader's plan to kill Damon.

"FATHER, DON'T!"

But it was too late. Vader's powers had unfurled and were racing towards Damon. Except they did not reach the trooper. It was as if they hit a wall and bounced off harmlessly. Vader felt the incandescent rush of rage flow through him at being thwarted. He searched wildly with his Force senses to find what had stopped him. Not Qui-Gon. Not Joran. Not Damon himself.

It was Luke.

Vader's eyes widened hugely as he felt the strength of his son's powers for the first time directly in opposition to his own. They were equals. And his son had just frustrated his actions to justly eliminate a threat to them.

"Luke, stop blocking me and protecting him!" He growled and thrust hard against the barrier that his son had created between him and Damon who stood stock still like a statue. "This must be done."

"No! There's no reason to—"

"Don't you see what he intends? Don't you understand what he could do? He could go right to the Emperor and betray us! Betray Joran and Salara, too! Do you want their blood on your hands?"

He gestured towards the mother and her son. Joran was cowering against her legs, covering his ears as if that would stem the flow of the emotions that pounded against him from the three men. Qui-Gon looked strained himself. But the Force web in Vader's mind was silent and Vader wondered if the Jedi Master agreed with the Dark Lord's assessment of Damon or if he was just staying out of what was a crucial conflict between Luke and him.

Vader's attention snapped back to his son. Luke was pale but he resisted the blows Vader had inflicted. A bead of sweat trailed down the boy's temple as lines of stress creased his brow. Vader had the conflicting urges to hit harder while his son was showing strain while at the same time he wanted to pull Luke into his arms and smooth that strain away.

"We don't know that! No one can tell the future. And he hasn't done anything yet, but … but not like what we are to one another!" Luke cried.

"You are being foolish, child. Why risk it?" Vader asked and pushed harder against the barrier he could not get beyond.

Luke physically slid along the floor, but his barrier held firm. Vader found himself breathing deep and sweat trickling down his own neck. He was funneling enough power to crack a planet in two, but it was no good.

"Because if we were to kill anyone who could hurt us where would it stop?" Luke asked, his blue eyes plaintive with love and pleading. "Don't you see … we'd just have to kill everyone. Make a desert of this Universe."

Those words conjured up the vision that Vader had what seemed like ages ago on Black Heart: endless oceans of blowing sand. Vader could swear he could hear the shifting of sand particles, smell that dry familiar scent of a water and life-parched land. There was a sort of peace in it. Luke and he would be safe in such a place.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep us safe," Vader said softly, lulled by that vision and the soft voice in the way back of his mind which urged him to kill everything.

"No!"

Luke's voice snapped Vader back to himself.

"Father, I … I," Luke's eyes welled with tears. "I love you more than my life. But I can't … can't … let you do that. I can't let you kill everyone."

Vader felt as if he had been punched in the gut. His son was defying him. Worse, he was saying that there was something he would always defy Vader on. Luke's love extended so far, but not far enough. For a moment, he could hear Padme telling him that he was breaking her heart. Was his son as faithless as she? Would Luke refuse to believe in him, too?

Or perhaps his son wanted a relationship with the bright, pants-creased and shirt perfectly pressed Trooper Trans. A man he could walk with down a street and never fear nor feel the sting of disgust that his relationship with Vader would bring. Damon would never raise a hand to his mate let alone strangle her. Damon would never have taken Luke's hand. But Vader had. Vader was … what he was. And he knew that he would do terrible things in the future, whether he chose to do them or not.

Part of him knew that he was acting out of baseless fears. Part of him knew that he needed to be reigned in and that Luke was doing just that. Part of him knew that Luke's actions had nothing to do with not loving him or wanting Damon instead. But that part was swamped by those slick feelings of rejection that always hovered around him like vultures around a corpse.

Vader reeled in his powers. His head lowered. Not looking at Luke. His breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He felt Luke relax slightly but the boy did not completely lower his guard. Vader could not be trusted not to lash out like a serpent. And that was true. But it stung nonetheless.

"I see where things stand," Vader said softly, his voice ice-chipped. "You may have your little trooper, Luke. It is what you want. I hope he brings you happiness."

"Father! No, that's not—"

But whatever Luke was going to say was lost to Vader as he used his Force powers to bring the duffels to him and ascended the Deathstryke's gangway. He met no one's gaze. Not even Qui-Gon's. Although Vader knew the older man was hurting for them both, wanting to speak to him and stop the black thoughts that festered. But the Dark Lord wished to keep these bad feelings. Nurture them.

It kept away the deeper pain that perhaps Luke was better off with a man like Damon than one like him.

Luke's POV

Luke felt like he was watching someone else's life for a moment. A tragedy on a vid. Not his own existence. He let the barrier fall as his father disappeared into the depths of the Deathstryke. He wanted to rush in after him, but he knew that would be a mistake. Vader would ignore him or lash out.

Luke swallowed a sob. Vader hadn't understood! Luke knew that his father took any rejection of his actions as a rejection of him. The Dark Lord for all his arrogance and self-confidence had a gaping hole in his armor and Luke knew his actions had stabbed Vader right in that soft spot.

"But I had to," he whispered to himself.

His gaze met Qui-Gon's. The older man came over to him with that graceful, powerful way he had, which Luke envied and hated at this moment.

"Do not worry, Luke. He will get beyond this. You did the right thing," Qui-Gon said gently.

For a wild instant, Luke wanted to shout at him, `Do you really mean that? Or are you just happy that there's a rift between Vader and me. Its gives you an opening, doesn't it? You think you could take him away from me! But I won't let you. I won't! I won't!' But he swallowed those baseless accusations down. They came from his own fragile heart and not from Qui-Gon at all.

"I know. But I hurt him. And that … that will always be unacceptable to me," Luke answered instead.

Qui-Gon nodded. His eyes flickered over to Salara and Joran.

"Let me take care of them," Qui-Gon offered.

Luke nodded. He could not turn his head to meet their gazes, nor even check the Force to see if they were half as disgusted with his relationship as Damon was, let alone speak to them.

"Do you wish me to deal with the trooper as well?" Qui-Gon asked.

"No, this is my mess. I will clean it up," Luke said and turned to face Damon.

Part of him wanted to rip into Damon for creating the situation that had made him and his father be at odds. But he knew that wasn't fair. This conflict was going to rear its head between them sooner or later. Damon was only the catalyst.

The trooper's skin was pale. His grey eyes were wide with shock. He took a few tentative steps towards Luke when he felt the young Jedi's attention on him.

"Luke, are you … are you all right?" He asked as he reached for Luke. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm … Damon, that's not your concern. I meant what I said to you," Luke said firmly as he evaded the trooper's questing hands. "I want you to give up any thoughts of loving me. Of their being an us. I am my father's. I have always wanted to be. And that is final. There is no spell to be broken. No influence to be erased. Please do as I ask."

Damon chewed his lower lip. He looked both abashed yet determined. Luke wanted to laugh, because he looked almost exactly like Vader did when he'd done something wrong yet intended to try and convince himself and others that he hadn't.

"It was a shock. I shouldn't have said those things aloud," Damon said. "I didn't mean to hurt you or cause … cause Lord Vader to lose his temper. If you hadn't been here, he would have …" Damon swallowed and looked ashen again.

Luke picked up on the `aloud' part of the sentence and knew that Damon meant he merely shouldn't have said these things to Luke and Vader, but thinking them was perfectly acceptable and acting on those thoughts would also be perfectly all right in Damon's mind.

"I'm glad you said those things, Damon. I am not ashamed of what I have with my father. And your reaction has clarified that for me," Luke said.

Damon gripped the sides of his pants, frustration in the lines of his body, as he asked, "How can you want that with him? He's handsome. I'll grant you that. He's got charisma, too. But Luke, he's … you heard what he said. He'd kill everyone without a second thought. I can't believe you could love someone who could do that."

"Then you don't know me as well as you think. And you don't know Lord Vader either," Luke answered quietly. "For as much free will as we have, the two sides of the Force are acting upon us. And the Dark Side whispers terrible things to him sometimes."

"He does not have the power to fight against it?" Damon asked, one eyebrow rose in skepticism. "From what I've seen, he is … extraordinarily powerful and strong-willed."

"That's part of the problem. When he listens to it … many more terrible things can happen than if a normal Force-user does. But do not mistake, Damon, the Dark Side can whisper to you, too. Perhaps it did so today," Luke said coolly.

The young trooper jerked back. He had clearly not considered this. Luke wondered if Damon Trans had ever thought of himself as anything but in control for even a single second of his life.

"Or perhaps it was the Light Side of the Force, which spoke to me and which wants me to save you, Luke. Which wants me to show you what he's capable of," Damon said softly then held up a hand to stop Luke's denial. "You won't even consider it, will you? And you don't wonder about that?"

Luke shook his head. "I know in my heart that what I have with my father is right. If it ends, it will only be because he wills it."

"I won't betray you," Damon said suddenly. "I know he thinks I will. That's why he … was going to kill me. But I won't betray you even now, even after that."

"I can't say I'm not glad about that. Damon, the Emperor is far worse than Vader could ever be," Luke said. "I don't believe he cares about anything so there's nothing for him to protect this universe for."

Damon nodded. "I know. But why does it have to be a choice between Vader and the Emperor?"

That was the argument he knew Leia would make to him. And Luke had no good answer to it. Other than he knew that Vader wanted to rule and Luke believed that he could be a just ruler. Luke was no longer so sanguine as to believe that any one who sought such power, even Leia, was exempt from using it in bad ways.

"He's the only one who can defeat the Emperor," Luke answered simply. "So it's only right that he should take his place."

"But what about you? I've seen what you can do. You're as strong as your father," Damon argued. "You could defeat the Emperor."

"That might be so, but I don't wish to rule," Luke said and he suddenly felt the need to see and touch his father so badly that it was like a physical knife in his stomach. "I must go now, Damon. Take care of yourself."

"Luke, wait!"

"I can't. I have to go."

He knew Damon wanted him to stay longer, or even better, never leave, but he had to get to his father. Luke turned to go into the Deathstryke when a small warm bundle wrapped itself around his legs. Shock became pleasure when he saw it was Joran. The little boy was practically suction-cupped to him. He reached down and touched the soft blond hair. His head jerked up and he snatched his hand away as he saw Salara's skirt enter his field of vision. The little boy might not have understood what was going on with him, Vader and Damon, but his mother surely did and might not want Luke to touch her child.

`Skywalker blood is tainted,' the sibilant hiss of Uncle Owen's voice whispered. Luke had thought it gone, but obviously it was just waiting for an opportune moment to reappear.

"I'm sorry, he just—" Luke began but was cut off when he had another Desertrider hugging him.

Salara reached and grabbed Luke and was holding him tight against her with Joran pressed between them.

"Its okay, Luke," she said as she squeezed him.

"Didn't you hear what Vader and I are to one another? Didn't you see what happened?" Luke asked helplessly.

"I heard. I know," she said as she drew back, wiping her hand across her eyes brushing away tears. "And maybe I would feel differently … if other people were involved or … but I don't. Joran said to me … tell him what you said about Luke and his father, Joran."

Joran's blonde head tilted up so that Luke could see his big eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Everything … glows … when you're with your daddy," Joran said as he continued to hold onto Luke's knees. "It's good. Feels right. Hurts when you're not together."

Luke felt a lump form in his throat and had to blink back tears himself. Glows. The Force did seem to react well when they were together: smoothed out and was softer somehow.

"Joran is always right about these things," Salara said. "And if he says something is good, I know it is, even if … even if I don't always understand it."

Luke's voice broke as he said, "I never thought you would understand or … could believe that."

"What's between you and your father … well, we need more love in this universe than pain and hate anyways," she said then tipped her head towards the Deathstryke. "I don't need to be Force-sensitive to know he needs you."

Joran nodded sagely. "Daddy sad. Lonely. And angry at himself."

Luke brushed his fingers down Joran's chubby cheeks making the boy giggle. "I best go to him then."

"We'll see you on Coruscant after … after the Emperor's gone," Salara said as she drew Joran to her side.

"Yes, we will," Luke said and with one more fond farewell he was moving up the Deathstryke's ramp, intent on being by Vader's side.

He didn't see Damon clench his hands into fists. Nor did he hear the silent vow that Damon made under his breath.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: YODA'S CALL

Luke's POV

Luke stumbled back a few steps in the Deathstryke's main hallway as the ship's powerful plasma-fueled engines engaged. They gave out a low throaty purr, and the vibrations they made ran up Luke's legs and echoed in his chest. Even his fingertips tingled as he steadied himself with them against the hallway's grated walls.

Luke sighed, his forehead thumped against the closed cockpit door. He had hoped to be in the cockpit when the Deathstryke left the Executor; to experience with his father firsthand the wonder of a direct leap into hyperspace. But Vader had sealed the cockpit and no matter how Luke had pleaded, both the cockpit door and his father's mind had remained closed to him.

Dispirited, but not surprised, Luke had decided to camp out in the hallway to wait for Vader rather than fasten himself into one of the chairs in the common room where Qui-Gon and Artoo had gone. He had been right to guess that the ship's gravity system would protect him from rocketing him back down the main hallway during the ship's takeoff. That fact that Luke had only stumbled was proof of his father's engineering genius. Now if only that genius could be applied to their relationship.

"Father, you can't hide in there forever. You have to speak to me," Luke said and rapped on the metal door until his knuckles stung.

Again there was no audible or mental response, but Luke envisioned Vader's plush lips thinning in determination to keep silent. The Dark Lord considered himself far more stubborn than Luke could ever be; therefore, in a contest of wills like this, Vader thought he would always win out. Not that Vader would have described himself as stubborn. `He would say he was being determined. Or disciplined. Or something stern and cold. Not imperious or pigheaded or… afraid,' Luke thought and gave a frustrated sigh.

"I love you and only you. Why don't you understand that I wasn't choosing Damon over you when I saved him? It just -- it just wasn't right to kill him," Luke said as he rested his forehead against the door again.

Luke knew that Vader's reaction to his defense of Damon was complicated by things from the Dark Lord's past. Things Luke knew nothing about. What little he had been able to glean from his father's mind before Vader had slammed the mental door on him had been one sentence uttered in a plaintive woman's voice: `Anakin, you're breaking my heart.'

A happy series of beeps drew Luke slightly out of his funk. He gave Artoo a strained smile as the droid trundled up beside him. While not as proficient as his father was at understanding Artoo's language, it was easy to recognize the droid's joy at leaving the Executor.

"I'm happy to be on our way as well, Artoo," Luke said and patted his dome.

Artoo beeped and tooted at him, wishing entry into the cockpit.

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I want to get in there, too, but absent breaking the door down, neither of us is going anywhere," Luke answered."Father has decided he wants to be alone. To brood!" he added the last loudly so that Vader would be sure to hear.

With an annoyed squawk that Luke felt described the situation perfectly, Artoo reversed into the t-junction before pivoting and rolling back down the main hallway from where he'd come.

The main hallway that Artoo was trundling down was one of two hallways in the Deathstryke that crossed each other to form a lower case `t.' The cross of the `t' bisected the ship with a gangway at each end, offering the useful ability of exiting the ship on either side. The main hallway spanned the length of the ship. Its terminuses were the cargo hold on one end and the cockpit on the other. In between, there were the sleeping quarters, galley, common room and medical bay. Though his father had said that the Deathstryke's amenities were bare-bones, the interior reminded Luke of the Millennium Falcon, which he had always found incredibly comfortable. Luke smiled at the comparison; although he doubted either Vader or Han would appreciate it.

Luke swung back to the cockpit door and grasped his light saber's hilt. He felt like burning through the damn lock and ripping the door open. But then what? Luke's thoughts tumbled: Would his father's temper come out at him? Would Vader continue to refuse to speak with him? Or worse, what if Vader did choose to speak and ended their relationship? Luke would lose more than a lover if Vader did that. He would lose his father. His father. The man he had always needed in his life and always would.

`I can't go on without him. No, I don't want to go on without him,' Luke thought almost helplessly. No matter how melodramatic that sounded, it was a fact. As certain as anything he had ever known. As if it were etched in stone or written in … `blood and sand.' And just like it had happened in the Executor's galley, Luke was thrown into a vision. Only this time the images were scattered and incomplete. Hazy and haphazard. But it was the impression they gave him that registered strongly, `It's a desert planet … a dead planet… once filled with life and … now empty. Because he was gone and I … my life for his. Sand and blood and ... death. So much death to bring back one life. But how could I regret?'

Luke didn't know what was meant by these thoughts that seared through him. His body, in shock from the raw power of the vision, swayed backwards, nearly toppling over, but a firm clasp on his shoulder stopped him from falling. The touch jolted Luke back to himself and caused the vision to leave him just as suddenly as it had come. But something else replaced it, which was far worse.

Fear. Raw, suffocating fear.

Luke's heart was suddenly in his throat and adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream. Danger, danger, danger: was the drum beat in his veins and his Force senses screamed the same refrain. Whoever was in this hallway with him was dangerous to him -- to everyone. Luke spun around to confront the one who had touched him, his hand on his light saber and his knees bending, ready to spring.

But there was no enemy in the hallway. Only Qui-Gon Jinn stood there.

His handsome face was set in a puzzled smile. He said in his deep, gentle voice, "Forgive me, Luke. I didn't mean to startle you."

Qui-Gon's concerned smile dimmed until it was replaced altogether by a frown as he noted that Luke did not release his death grip on his light saber's hilt. Luke couldn't pry his hand from it, because the feeling of danger was still there. Even though his eyes perceived Qui-Gon, his Force senses didn't. The warm sunny presence the other man normally exuded wasn't there and Luke couldn't tell what was. Except that it had a scent: the powdery, rich smell of decaying wood mixed with the metallic tang of brackish standing water with an ophidian undertone.

Qui-Gon reached for him. Luke stiffened and he took a half-step back from the other man until his back was flush with the cockpit's door.

"Luke? Are you all right? By the Force, what's wrong?" Qui-Gon asked.

Luke had nowhere to go when the Jedi Master grabbed him, otherwise he would have avoided that touch. Yet when the older man's palms pressed against his biceps, the wrongness in the hallway was suddenly wiped out as if it had never been. Even that strange scent was gone replaced with the ship's normal bitter smell of engine oil and hot metal.

Luke's shoulders slumped as all the tension abruptly left him. Qui-Gon's body, however, was rigid with apprehension, his eyes narrowed with concern. He ordered in a tight voice, "Luke, answer me!"

"I -- It's all right," Luke managed to say then added as he suddenly felt the warm touch of the Jedi Master's golden Force presence against his own, "I didn't sense you."

The other man went very still. "When? When I approached you? Or …"

"Not at all. Not when you approached and not -- not after I saw you. I thought -- I don't know. I just felt so strange. Everything was wrong. I had a vision or something and I don't know. It's gone now. The vision and the fear. I was so afraid," Luke said even as his heart rate and breathing were already back to normal.

"Afraid of me?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.

Luke hesitated then nodded. "I felt there was danger and there was this smell. I know that sounds crazy."

Qui-Gon's eyes drifted to the cockpit where Vader remained seemingly oblivious to what had occurred in the hallway. Luke heart lurched at the thought that Vader might have sensed his fear, but done nothing about it.

"What was the vision?" Qui-Gon asked. "Was it like the ones you had on the Executor?"

"I guess. I -- I can't remember it!" Luke said, slapping his thigh in frustration at the memory blank.

"Well, that is disturbing," Qui-Gon said slowly.

Then the Jedi Master studied him for long quiet moments; his forehead furrowed, his eyes opaque.

`As they always are. Shielding his thoughts from me,' Luke realized with sudden clarity. `He shares so little of what he thinks and knows. He has a right to his own thoughts, I suppose. And I've never sensed any evil intent from him. Until today.'

"Do you know of any reason I should have had that reaction to you? Been afraid of you?" Luke asked.

Qui-Gon shifted slightly, tugging at his over-robe. "No, nothing that I can think of."

But Luke knew he was lying. `Perhaps he has a reason to. Perhaps he just doesn't want to speculate and frighten me. Nonetheless, I'll have to tell father about this. When he's speaking to me again that is.'

"Perhaps the answer will come to us in time," Qui-Gon said.

Luke just scuffed his boot in response. His head turned towards where he knew his father was.

"No word from him, I take it?" Qui-Gon asked, noticing Luke's gaze.

"No, none," Luke said, his shoulders drooping. He pushed down a stab of jealousy as he asked, "Have you? Heard anything, I mean."

The Jedi Master's eyes flickered over to the cockpit door again then away. With an icy feeling in his chest, Luke realized Qui-Gon was weighing what or how much to tell him. Luke knew that the Jedi and Vader becoming Master and Padwan meant that there would be things that they would share together that Luke would not, which was painful enough, but he hadn't realized that Qui-Gon's loyalty would also be to the Dark Lord first and not to Luke and Vader equally any longer.

"He's spoken to me only of peripheral things, nothing about you and him. He is refusing to discuss it," Qui-Gon said and added with a wry smile, "He's being very difficult."

"I think father's default character mode is difficult," Luke said.

The Jedi Master's familiar gentle look of concern and understanding in return made what happened earlier seem like a bad dream. `How could I have ever been afraid of him like that? He couldn't exude such malevolence. He just couldn't,' Luke thought.

"Things will be fine. He will get over this," Qui-Gon said.

"You say that with such authority, but I am not so certain." Luke's hands tightened into fists as he voiced his earlier fears, "Father could end it. He could decide he doesn't want me anymore."

"There is no chance of that. Your father is more afraid of losing you than you are of losing him," Qui-Gon answered.

"That hardly seems possible," Luke lowered his head and bit his lower lip before saying, "but it seems that you know him so well. So much better than I do sometimes. Perhaps you are right."

There was a burst of something, some deep emotion, from the other man as Luke said these things. `Possessiveness?' Luke wondered.

But Qui-Gon's words were different than the feeling he so quickly broadcast as the Jedi Master said simply, "You know him, Luke. Your fears are merely making you doubt that knowledge."

"I suppose," Luke said slowly. "But you've watched over father since he was a little boy. You know everything that's happened to him. I've only really spent a week with him and while sometimes I know what he is going to do, what he is thinking, other times he is a complete mystery to me. And this is one of those times."

Concern was etched on Qui-Gon's handsome features as he responded, "What he has with you is like nothing he's ever experienced in the past. So what little I know is immaterial in a way. It's all new for him, for you and for me."

"But those things you saw, they made him the man he is today. Maybe they can help me know how to approach him now. Please tell me about him. Tell me something that happened to him that can help me," Luke begged and grasped the front of the man's robes.

Qui-Gon was silent for such a long time that Luke thought he would not answer. But finally, he said, "I can tell you one incident that might explain some of Anakin's personality now."

"Please. Anything," Luke said.

"Perhaps we should walk? Or are you on a stakeout for him?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Stakeout. He's not sneaking away for food, water or to use the fresher. He will face me as soon as he opens that door," Luke said, his jaw jutting out just as his father's did when he was determined.

"I see," Qui-Gon said. "Well, at least, let us get more comfortable. I'm sure this will be a long vigil."

Both men slid down to the ground. Luke tucked up his legs beneath him, while Qui-Gon spread out.

"Did your father ever tell you how he became Obi-Wan's Padawan after my death?"

"Not really."

The Jedi Master gave a sad smile. "As I lay dying, I made Obi-Wan swear he would teach Anakin. A death bed promise that I knew he would honor even if it would be disastrous."

"Why disastrous?" Luke asked his heart suddenly heavy in his chest.

"Because I knew from the start that Obi and Anakin were ill-suited to one another. And worse, I had poisoned any relationship they could have had from the start," Qui-Gon said.

"What? I can't believe that of you!"

Qui-Gon patted Luke's knee. "I didn't intend it. It was done in a moment of passion."

Luke's stomach did a jealous flip. `Passion? No, Father was only six so Qui-Gon cannot mean that kind of passion,' Luke thought and his hands unclenched.

"I threw Obi-Wan over for your father," Qui-Gon said. "I discarded him as if he meant nothing to me. And if I am honest, compared to Anakin, he meant -- well, far less than he should have. To my shame, that is the unvarnished truth. But I should never have let Obi-Wan guess that, let alone know it for certain."

"How did he discover your feelings?"

Qui-Gon's hands plucked at the edges of his brown outer robe as he said, "Jedi are only allowed to have one Padawan at a time, you see, so I could not take Anakin on as my student while Obi-Wan still held that place."

"Obi-Wan hadn't become a Master yet when you found Father?" Luke intuited.

"No, he had not. I had not even proposed that he take the Trials," he said. "Obi wasn't really ready to become a Master at that time. He was strong in the Force and smart, but he lacked a certain compassion. That isn't unusual in young Jedi Knights. They are taught from their cradle that they were special, above others who did not have Force powers." With a sad smile, Qui-Gon said,"To Obi-Wan, all non-Jedi were -- oh, how did he describe them? Oh, yes: `useless life-forms.' And my penchant for helping them was distasteful to him, something to joke about, to show disdain for, as if it were some eccentricity on my part rather than a central tenet of a Jedi's life to serve others."

Luke thought hard about the man he knew as Ben Kenobi. Was there a sense of disdain for others who had no Force powers? He had not sensed that, but Luke realized he hadn't sensed a lot of things about Obi-Wan. `Considering how he treated me, lying and trying to kill me, it seems like these days he doesn't care much any more for those who do have Force powers!' Luke mused.

"When did Obi-Wan become a Master?" Luke asked.

"After my death and his defeat of Darth Maul," Qui-Gon explained.

"But he wouldn't have become one at that time if you had lived?" Luke asked.

Qui-Gon's restless, elegant hands stilled. "I would have ensured that he became a Master and quickly. I had no fears as to whether he would get through the Trials or not, he would succeed; they aren't the real test anyways. It was my own doubts about his character that held him back before, but those doubts didn't matter to me any longer."

Luke suddenly felt Qui-Gon's gaze on him and the boy's eyes jerked up from his lap. The older Jedi's face was twisted into a pained smile.

"Don't you see, Luke? I needed Obi-Wan out of the way so that I could have Anakin. Making Obi a Master was the easiest method to accomplish that."

"Oh! And did he know that?"

"Yes, he knew. He knew that he meant little to me after I saw Anakin. All those years we had worked side by side, all that time I had spent helping him hone his skills, preparing his mind. It was all over and unimportant to me in a split second after seeing shining blonde hair and impish blue eyes." Qui-Gon's head lowered, his voice muted as he said, "It was worse than a slap in the face. Obi-Wan had been considered a brilliant Jedi by everyone before Anakin's appearance, but compared to Anakin … well, there simply was no comparison. And I was the one to make him know it."

"That must have hurt him," Luke said softly and he was surprised by the ache for Obi-Wan he felt. To seemingly lose Qui-Gon, his Master, to another must have hurt badly.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said, his eyes drifting off, seeing back to those times. "And then I died and he had to train the one who was to be have been his replacement. Can you imagine it? Even though Anakin was now his Padawan, in the darkest corners of his mind, he couldn't want Anakin to be as brilliant and strong in the Force as I knew he would be."

"Because that would have meant that you were right in choosing Father over him?" Luke asked.

"Not exactly. Nothing can ever justify my actions towards Obi. What I did was terrible. Unforgivable. And how I did it was even worse. I did love Obi-Wan. I did value him. He was a good Padawan. But Anakin was my One. The One I had been waiting for all my life. Perhaps more than one life even. I got lost in that and treated Obi-Wan badly," Qui-Gon responded. His hands flexed and curled into fists. "And because I was not there, Obi-Wan took out his anger and hurt towards me on Anakin."

"Did Obi-Wan want Father to fail in his training then?" Luke asked.

"Not consciously. Obi-Wan did his best, but yes, I think deep down, Obi wanted Anakin to fall short."

Luke could remember himself how Obi-Wan had seemed to hide both his pleasure and his displeasure with Luke's training behind a bland mask. It had been aggravating and hurtful to not know what he was really thinking.

`So I always assumed he was thinking the worst. If he were pleased with my progress, wouldn't he have spoken up? Did Father feel the same? Always doubting that he was doing well, wondering what he could do more to get that approbation? And all the while that doubt eating at him, all the while Obi-Wan wished him to fail.' Luke tucked his arms around his knees and drew them tighter against his chest.

Qui-Gon continued, "More importantly though, Obi wanted your father to feel that his place with the Jedi, with Obi himself, was tenuous at best. That he must prove himself worthy of being there every minute of every day. And that, at any moment, he could be sent back to his life as a slave." Qui-Gon's mouth scrunched up as though the words were acid on his tongue.

"Father was always waiting for rejection then?" Luke asked.

"Worse, he was always waiting for acceptance that never came," Qui-Gon responded with a sharp bark of laughter. "Anakin was always reminded that he was not one of them, but merely one of my pet projects. He was the Chosen One and the Jedi behaved as if he were a charity case. They should have been honored to have him! Instead they acted as if all the gratitude should be on his side."

Luke could imagine how that would have hurt Vader. He understood what it was like to be waiting for people to turn on you, to send you away: you're not one of us, you're unworthy. And Vader had been so talented, so gifted with the Force, but it hadn't mattered. At least not to his benefit. The better he did, the higher Obi-Wan had raised the bar.

"Did Father never question why they treated him that way?" Luke asked, not quite believing that Vader would take such abuse sitting down. `Vader's so confident in his control of the Force and in his sense of self-worth. But he wasn't Vader back then. He became Vader afterwards. Oh, I see …'

"He questioned all the time. But what really mattered was what he actually believed," Qui-Gon said.

"And what did he believe?"

"That he wasn't worthy. That he could be sent away without any thought as to his well-being. After all, I had seemingly done that with Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said and gave a strained laugh. "I had acted with such little regard towards Obi, why wouldn't Anakin think that abandoning one's Padawan was a normal everyday occurrence instead of an unheard of event?"

Luke was quiet for long moments. He filtered the story Qui-Gon told him through the things he had experienced with Vader, coming at last, but not least, upon their last confrontation over Damon. It suddenly all made sense.

"He believes I'll abandon him, doesn't he? That I'll choose someone else over him," Luke said. "He's waiting for it. Just waiting for it all to fall apart."

Qui-Gon's head rose, a soft smile on his face. "Now you understand."

"Thank you for telling me this."

"It had to be said." Qui-Gon answered. "I am glad you asked me."

"You should tell Father this."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "I just did."

At that moment, the door to the cockpit slid open and Vader was framed in the threshold. Luke's chest hurt the moment he saw him. Vader looked achingly beautiful even with his eyes hooded and mouth pressed into a tight white line. His amber eyes flicked to Qui-Gon, studiously avoiding looking at Luke. Another throb in Luke's wounded chest.

"You two talk too loud, a man can hardly concentrate with the noise," Vader said.

The Jedi Master's eyebrows rose and a smile twitched at his lips. "We apologize for disturbing you, Anakin. I take it that we are well away and you have set the autopilot on a course for Tatooine?"

"Yes," Vader answered crisply, still refusing to look at Luke.

"Good," the Jedi Master said as he rose to his feet. "Then there is nothing to distract you from discussing things with your son."

With that, Qui-Gon spun on his heel and, with a wink at Luke, strode down the corridor. Luke heard Vader mutter something under his breath in Huttese about Masters in need of lessons themselves. Luke rose up himself and summoned the courage to touch Vader's forearm. The Dark Lord froze. The only sign he was nervous was the rapid movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Luke's throat suddenly felt tight and dry, too.

"Will you discuss things with me, Father?" Luke asked.

Vader tilted his head towards the cockpit, allowing Luke to precede him inside. Luke couldn't help the gasp as he caught his first glance at the Deathstryke's controls. A small smile graced his father's lips as Luke began to fan his hands over the consol; awe written into the boy's every feature.

"Are these vertical thrusters? And Irgo Blasters? And are these the controls for the plasma-fusion drive? Can you adjust the heat of the--"

"Slow down, Luke. I can only answer one question at a time," Vader said.

Luke took a chance and looked up into his father's face as the older man sat down in the pilot's seat while Luke settled into the co-pilot's. Vader's expression had become more open: his eyes shining with pride at his creation and Luke's appreciation, his lush mouth lifted into a slight smile, and his brow smooth, the pained furrows gone. `So lovely.' His looks would have taken Luke's breath away except the boy was too busy breathing in Vader's spicy scent. It made Luke dizzy with want and need that he clutched at the seat's armrests to stop the world from spinning and to stop from touching Vader. How could he ever be without his father? The man made breathing glorious. His world would become grey and empty if his father were not in it.

"Before we discuss the ship's amenities, perhaps we should talk of what occurred in the hangar bay," Vader said, his voice softer than normal as he suddenly stared forward; all the light leaving his expression.

Luke started then slowly nodded. He hadn't expected Vader to bring it up. His father normally avoided such discussion between them. Luke stretched out his Force senses, but he didn't sense anger from Vader. Luke couldn't sense anything at all. Panicked butterflies settled in his stomach. He found himself staring out at the streaks of light as well.

"What do you want to discuss about it first?"

"I want you to consider something seriously, Luke," Vader said, his voice neutral.

"What?" Luke asked, swallowing thickly.

Vader's eyes shut for a moment, but the rest of him was painfully still.

"Damon will only be the first of our disagreements," Vader said.

"I don't love Damon, Father! And I won't abandon you! I know you heard Qui-Gon said to me. I understand why you fear me leaving you, but it's not going to happen. I --"

Vader held one hand up and Luke fell silent.

"Even if all Qui-Gon told you was true and you took the most generous view of it and gave me every reason in the world to act as I have … it is simply not enough." His amber eyes narrowed though and his gloved hands tightened into fists.

"I don't understand. What is not enough?"

"It is not enough to explain why I am … what I am," Vader said.

"And what do you think you are?" Luke asked.

"Dangerous," Vader whispered. "To you … to everyone. And I -- I would not choose to be otherwise. Not really. Don't you understand, Luke? At the core, Dark is what I am. And no matter if Qui-Gon had been my Master this is who I am, what I am."

Luke's heart lurched at Vader's words. He remembered facing Vader over Yavin, the man's cold determination to blow him out of the sky and allow the Deathstar to destroy a whole moon just to eradicate the Rebellion, which was housed on it. He remembered how Vader had tortured Leia and Han, sometimes for no other reason than to make them suffer. And Luke knew that Vader had slaughtered the helpless and innocent if they stood in his way. `Yes, he is ruthless and can be cruel. I have always known that. Even as he shows me another side of himself, his soft underbelly, he is still dangerous.'

Vader wetted his lips then said, "Luke, that there will be times where you and I will have different goals and different means to get to those. Vastly different on both counts. Because of who we are at our cores."

Luke's brow furrowed and he responded slowly, "We're different people. You can't expect us to always be as one, but that doesn't mean -- well, it doesn't mean anything really. We just have to talk to one another. To compromise." Luke's hands rose helplessly before falling into his lap.

"Yes, but have you thought of how at a fundamental level, we are very different from one another? The fact that I should be the bearer of the Dark Side and you the Light should be enough evidence that this -- this was never going to be…" Vader's voice faded and he grimaced. His eyes flared with amber light.

Luke's heart lurched. "This? You mean … our relationship? What was our relationship never going to be, Father?"

Vader didn't answer him, instead he said, "You speak of compromise, but you would not compromise on Damon's life. And I foresee other things that you will choose to hold more dearly than your love of me. You will choose those things above me. It is a part of who you are. And I cannot -- I do not … " He shook his head violently, his dark curls falling into his eyes, which were still glowing, but suddenly that glow went dark and it was like all the strength went out of him. "I cannot risk you, Luke."

"What are you talking about? What are you saying?" Luke asked. He has grasped the front of his own jacket. His fingers twisting the fabric until it threatened to rip.

"I told you about your mother, Luke, and her death. But not the whole of it. Or perhaps I -- I lied to myself and you. She loved me, but she was a good person. And when she saw what I was capable of -- when she saw what I wanted, she -- she merely begged me to stop. To turn away from the dark path I was walking. And I -- I …" Vader's hand suddenly slammed against the consol. "I crushed the life from her for merely questioning me. That was enough of a betrayal. And it earned her death."

"But you've changed since then! You've controlled your temper. What I did with Damon was far more than question you. And you have not hurt me!" Luke cried. "Not then and not now!"

"But I thought of it. I thought of pressing my advantage. Only your equal strength protected you. And there is more, Luke," Vader said. His head falling forward so that the green lights of the consol made his skin look translucent."You are right that I might be able to control my temper in the future to not blindly strike out at you as I did with her, but what happens when you realize that my plans are in direct opposition to what yours are? Will you stand aside and let me go forward? Or will you stand against me? There will come a time when neither of us will back down and the stakes will be too high."

"And you will hurt me then? You will choose something over loving me, too?" Luke asked. His lips felt heavy; every word a boulder being pushed uphill.

"I don't know," Vader whispered. "But if the past is any indication, the closer you are to me the more likely that is."

"You're ending us?" Luke asked. His chest felt hollow and the words echoed in it. But like a drowning man looking for anything to keep him afloat, Luke suddenly remembered how Vader had begun this conversation. "You said that this was something for me to consider, didn't you?"

Vader's eyes, almost wholly black, with faint lines of amber running through them, flickered over to Luke. So much pain there that Luke's own agony seemed smaller.

"Yes, I said that, but--"

Luke grabbed his father's face with his hands, forcing the other man to meet his gaze squarely. "No buts. Since it is my life that most concerns you, it is my choice what we do. I have considered what you have said and determined that I do not believe you will hurt me when that moment comes. We will find a way forward. Together. Our goals will coincide. I have faith in this. I have faith in us. Enough for both of us if you do not."

"You don't understand the risk you take with me! You and Qui-Gon think it is a question of controlling my temper and not who I am that makes me do bad things. You are wrong! And I must protect you from myself!" Vader pulled his head from Luke's grasp. "Damon was but a taste of what is to come. It is a warning. We should heed it. I want nothing to harm you! Yet I see that I am the very thing that can!"

"And I can harm you, Father. I was merely defending Damon, remember? I was not attacking. We are equal in power. We are both capable of inflicting great harm on each other. The choice is ours," Luke said.

"And I am telling you that I will make the wrong choice day, Luke. Or you will make the right one and we will be at odds, young one! Do you not see it?" Vader hid his face in his hands.

Luke reached and drew Vader against him. His father's arms were suddenly around him, clutching at him, and Vader's face was pressed tight against Luke's chest, the Dark Lord's shoulders heaving. Luke began to gently rock him, his hands running up and down his father's bowed back.

"Don't you see, Father, that if you were as black as you paint yourself we would not be having this conversation?" Luke asked. "You would have kept silent and taken as much advantage of my love for you as you could."

Vader's response was muffled, but clear enough that Luke heard, "You are my heart, young one. I betray you and I will lose myself entirely to the Dark."

"And you don't want that," Luke said, peace coming over him and smoothing out his features. "I think that your desire not to be devoured is enough to keep such a fate away."

"It has not been in the past," Vader murmured as he drew back from Luke's chest. "This was my last chance."

"To what?" Luke asked.

"To let you go," Vader said. "I won't have the strength again. You have chosen the path for us. I hope you are right about me." He sat back in the pilot's chair; his beautiful face pale and drawn.

`He looks exhausted,' Luke realized sadly. He ran a hand down his father's cheek. Vader caught his hand and squeezed it.

"Forgive my weakness," he said, softly, almost tonelessly, as he stared out the viewport.

"There is no weakness in this. Never when you show how you feel to me," Luke protested.

Vader nodded.

"Now," Luke said with forced brightness, "are you going to show me some of the special features of the Deathstryke?"

A small smile graced Vader's lips, which quickly grew into a grin as their gazes met. "I suppose I should. Eager to take your father's ship out for a spin?"

"Always," Luke said and laughed. "Uhm, I was wondering if maybe – maybe I could– oh, no, forget about it." Luke ducked his head and blushed. He couldn't ask this. It was silly and childish.

"Young one?" Vader asked. He tipped Luke's head up.

"I want to sit in your lap!" Luke blurted out.

Vader stared, blinked, stared some more and then started to smile. "Oh, is this one of those fantasies we started talking about before?"

Luke knew his cheeks were bright red, but he wasn't going to back down. "I always dreamed as a child that you'd hold me in your lap and show me how a ship worked. I – I – know its stupid, but –"

Vader pressed a finger over Luke's lips to quiet him. "Its not stupid. Such a thing could never be stupid."

His father adjusted the seat so that it was far enough back from the console that they wouldn't be squished. Vader patted the tops of his thighs and smiled welcomingly at him. Luke felt his stomach tremble and suspiciously tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He quickly blinked them away and went to sit on Vader's lap.

It should have been awkward with Luke being far too big for such a thing, but somehow it wasn't. Vader shifted him so that the Dark Lord's chin was resting lightly on Luke's shoulder and his arms slipped underneath Luke's. He felt cradled. Cared for. Safe. Luke shut his eyes for a minute and just sank back against Vader. His father said nothing, recognizing exactly what Luke needed. He wrapped his arms around Luke's middle and held him tight.

"I love you," Luke said hoarsely as his hands covered his father's. "You've meant everything to me since the day I was born. Maybe even before."

Vader held him closer.

"Please, you mustn't ever end us, Father, because," Luke swallowed, tears flowing freely now, "because it would kill me. Don't you know that? Don't you know I'd rather you thrust your light saber into my heart than end us?"

Vader shuddered. "I'd never do that, Luke. Never. I – I couldn't. I'd rather die myself than hurt you."

Luke smiled even as the tears rained down as he realized what Vader had said and the absolute certainty with which he'd said it. "You've answered your own question, Father, as to whether I'm safe with you or not. I am."

He twisted around to face Vader. His father's eyes were glowing slightly, but not with an angry or pained light. The Dark Lord seemed rather amazed at his own revelation, but underneath that, he felt ...

`At peace. He feels at peace,' Luke realized.

Vader laughed. It was a light sound. "I won't. I won't hurt you. It won't overcome me again. I – I know that now. How could I not before? I was so convinced I might hurt you after Damon, but – but the thought is so – so abhorrent. I just won't do it. No matter how angry I get. No matter what. I love you. More than my self or anything the Dark Side can offer me."

"I know. I've always known," Luke whispered.

"Yes, you have. And for that – thank the Force," his father said.

Vader tugged him in for a kiss. His father's lips were like velvet against his own. Luke felt an incredible thirst for that taste. He drank it down and sucked on his father's tongue like it was a straw. Vader chucked into their kiss at Luke's eagerness. Luke began to laugh, too, but his mirth was suddenly cut off as he experienced blinding pain. It felt as through an ice pick had been driven through his skull. He gasped and pitched forward into Vader's chest.

"Luke? Luke what is it?" Vader asked, trying to get Luke to pull back so he could see his face.

But Luke couldn't respond and he clutched his father's jacket, resisting being pulled back, because it was the only thing anchoring him from the excruciating pain.

"Luke! Lu—" Vader's voice went fuzzy then was gone altogether.

Then all Luke heard was Yoda.

`To Dagobah you must come, young Jedi,' Yoda sent. `Your sister, Obi-Wan, grave danger. Save them you must.'

Luke was gritting his jaw so hard that his jaw ached when he finally was released from the Yoda's call. His head throbbed with the most massive headache he had ever had.

"Luke!" Vader was standing, practically carrying Luke, clearly ready to rush him to Medbay.

"I'm okay. It's okay," Luke got out.

"You're not all right!" Vader shouted, holding Luke to him as he slammed the press plate for the door.

Qui-Gon was suddenly in the open cockpit's doorway. "What happened? Padawan? Luke? What just occurred?"

"It was Yoda," Luke said, still holding his pounding head. "We have to go to Dagobah. Something terrible is happening there."

To be continued...

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