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Forbidden: Part 2

CHAPTER SEVEN: ALMOST WHOLE AGAIN

Vader held his son close against him. The boy was trembling; long drawn out shivers wracked the slight form. The Dark Lord rubbed comforting circles over Luke's back while the child burrowed tighter into his arms. Vader's mind swirled with one thought: his son had raised the dead.

Truthfully, when Vader had sent his son to Sickbay that morning, he had only contemplated Luke perhaps healing the troopers' flesh wounds. A minor miracle would have been if he had restored some brain function to the men, but what he had done was shocking … stunning. `I did not allow myself to truly contemplate how great Luke's healing abilities might be, even with the evidence of his regrown hand. Because if I had then I … I might hope. Hope I could be healed. Freed from this mask and suit after twenty years. Made whole again.'

Vader turned to look at Dr. Nakima, who was slumped on a chair, fumbling to light an Illurian tabac stick even though they were forbidden to be smoked on the Executor.

"Doctor."

Nakima jerked up and dropped the tabac stick with a guilty glance. "Forgive me, Lord Vader, I was not … thinking properly."

"Never mind your breach of Imperial rules … for now. You need to go evaluate the troopers."

Dr. Nakima went paler than she was before. Her hands trembled at her sides. Her mouth opened in a horrified `o.' "I cannot! They are not … not … I can't!"

"You are refusing to obey me?" Vader's voice took on a dangerous silky quality.

Dr. Nakima went as white as her uniform. "Nnnnnno, I ah…" she swallowed deeply.

MD-357 wandered over at that moment. "If Dr. Nakima is unable to attend to the troopers, I would be most capable of doing so."

Vader stared at the stricken doctor, who appeared ready to melt into the floor.

"Father, let the droid tend to them. She is … Dr. Nakima has had a shock and would undoubtedly worry the troopers if she went in to treat them in her condition."

Luke's voice was soft. He sounded calm, but then again he did not remove his face from its place pressed between Vader's right arm and chest or loosen his grip on the Dark Lord's waist.

After a brief contemplation, Vader realized Luke's decision was the correct one. "If you wish it, Luke. MD-357, check the troopers' conditions."

Just as the droid was trundling off to comply, Lord Vader added, "Also, compare their current conditions to their former mental and physical evaluations."

With a little nod, the droid entered the troopers' room. It's too bright voice could be heard saying, "Now gentlemen, if I could please draw your attention—" Then the door slid shut and the conversation was lost.

"Dr. Nakima, I suggest you call on one of your colleagues to replace you this shift. You should also prescribe yourself a sedative and retire to your quarters until your senses have returned to you," Vader ordered. "And doctor, you are to tell no one of what you have witnessed here today. Is that understood?"

With a jerky nod, the doctor rushed from the room, but not without one last backwards horrified glance at Luke. Vader stared at the door the doctor had exited with a scowl. `To think a woman of science would be afraid of what Luke has done rather than embrace it and try to understand its mystery. Perhaps I should eliminate her and ensure she does not spread her superstitious panic to others. That would seem to be the best course.'

Putting the soon-to-be deceased Dr. Nakima from his mind, Vader fully concentrated on his son. He knew they had to discuss what had happened. Luke had to be assured that what he had done was not foul witchcraft, but a natural aspect of his Force powers. `An extreme aspect, but natural nonetheless.'

Vader determined that his own experience with this power was a good place to start their talk. He pretended to muse out loud, "So one can bring back the dead after all. But it is a Light Side power … not a Dark Side one."

A muffled cry came from Luke. "You knew this was … possible?"

"Yes, child. Palpatine used it as a lure for me to come to the Dark Side. And I … I believed it was a possibility before that." Vader answered and stroked the boy's golden hair. He thought, `And how ironic that I took the path that would never allow me the power I sought.'

Luke drew back from his embrace and studied the Dark Lord's face. "Who did you want to bring back?"

"My mother and … yours." Vader clamped his lips tightly shut. He didn't want to speak of Shmi or Padme for that matter. Too much would have to be explained and potentially forgiven as Luke had been in Padme's womb when Vader had … `shaken her … hurt her … lost control and killed her.' Vader stomped on that train of thought. He wouldn't go over it again. It was over and done with. Unless Luke could bring back the dead whose bodies no longer existed … the thought was too much to contemplate yet. Further, he realized that he no longer desired either woman to be brought back to him. Shmi would never understand what he had become and Padme would try to interfere between Luke and him. Vader raised an eyebrow at himself when he realized that even if Padme, looking as lovely as she did when he last saw her, was brought back to him, he would still desire Luke.

"Father … I … when I went in there with the troopers I didn't know … didn't have any idea that they were dead. When I focussed on them with the Force I saw … flames hovering over their bodies."

"Tell me everything that happened, young one."

Luke started off in a halting voice that broke every so often, but as he talked and Vader made soothing noises and asked probing questions, the Dark Lord could see the anxiety leaving his son. The boy finally felt collected enough to release his father from the death grip embrace he'd had on him and sit down in a chair, though Luke still held tight to one of Vader's hands.

Vader mused, "There are many who posit that the life force … the spirit … does not leave the body immediately at death, but lingers for a time before it moves on. The flames could have been the lingering life forces of those men that you touched."

Luke nodded then his piercing blue eyes were raised to his father and there was an expression in them that Vader was not used to seeing: gratefulness. Luke confirmed that emotion by what he next said, "Thank you, Father."

"For what?"

"For making me feel … less unnatural." Luke unconsciously rubbed his regrown hand over his thigh. "Dr. Nakima … she saw me as a monster. And the troopers, because of what I've done to them … I could tell she was afraid of them, too."

"She is a superstitious fool. You needn't concern yourself with her any longer."

Vader ruffled Luke's hair and the boy leaned into that touch. Vader couldn't help but smile as he realized that Luke was fast becoming used to and seeking his caress. At that moment, MD-357 glided out of the troopers' room, chirping at them excitedly. "Lord Vader! I have the results of my evaluation."

"Well?"

"The men are in perfect health, mental and physical. Indeed they are better than they have ever been," the droid gushed.

"What do you mean `better than they have ever been'?" Luke asked, half-rising from his chair. Vader felt Luke clutch his hand tighter.

"Their current status as compared to all their earlier evaluations show that the men's mental acuity and physical strength and stamina have improved by approximately 34 from their prior highest scores," the droid answered and cocked its white mechanical head to the side.

Luke sank back down into the chair. His eyes became unfocused. Vader could not hear his thoughts over their link. The boy was unconsciously shielding. Not sure what that boded for his son's mental health at that moment, he determined to give the child time to collect himself. He turned back to the droid.

"Do they have any … memories of their deaths?" Vader asked.

"I did not inform them that they had died. My programming advised me that they would be unduly excited by such information."

"That was not what I was asking or suggesting. Did they speak of any of their experiences in general?" Vader restrained the urge to crush the droid's voice box.

"They were unwilling to tell me about it. Indeed they asked to speak to the young man rather urgently when I pressed them on the subject of their most recent memories." MD-357 gestured towards Luke.

Luke's head jerked up. Though deep in his own thoughts, he had obviously been paying attention to what MD-357 was saying. The bond between them was still quiet though.

"You do not need to see them, my son, if it would upset you," Vader said gently.

"Thank you. But I wish to."

Luke rose from the chair with his usual grace. Vader noted that the new clothes fit him well, accentuating his muscled chest and slim hips. Even as they walked together to go meet men back from the dead, Vader felt his hunger for his son grow. The need to strip the boy of those new clothes piece by piece, reveal his son's skin, all golden except for the pale buttocks and groin, burned in him. Vader mentally chastised himself. His sex drive had not been this great since his teens. `Yet is it so strange that I feel as deeply as I do? The boy reeks of repressed sensuality. He's never been touched, explored, plumbed. Truly the old term de-flowering applies to my child. Making love to him will be like pulling back petals to reveal his secret inner core.' With that last thought, the door to the troopers' room slid open.

Luke hesitated only a moment at the threshold then the boy squared his shoulders and proceeded inside with Vader close behind. Four sets of eyes were turned towards them. The troopers straightened in their sitting positions on the beds when they realized Vader was also present. He told them to be at ease. He noted that the soldiers regarded his son with eager, warm expressions. Vader shielded his presence slightly so the men would converse freely with Luke without being distracted by him.

The one Luke had spoken to earlier, a trooper with green eyes, was again the first to speak. "Hello again. I take it that bucket of … I mean the medical droid told you that we asked for you," the green-eyed trooper said.

Luke smiled. "Yes. How … how are you feeling?"

"Great! Ready to get out of our skivvies and back into our uniforms." The other troopers laughed and nodded. "I'm Davel by the way and that's Greggs, Simok and Trans," the green-eyed trooper explained and pointed to each man in turn.

Luke greeted all of them. "I'm Luke …" The boy bit his lip suddenly and Vader heard his thoughts again through their link like a shout: `Do I say Skywalker? I have to, it's who I am, but … what if they had friends, family aboard the Death Star? I cannot take back what I did. I must face it and them.' "I'm Luke Skywalker."

There was a flash of recognition across Davel's face. He frowned slightly and opened his mouth to say something, but Vader cut him off. "My son. Luke is my son."

The troopers' eyes went huge. Luke looked up at Vader with a half- grateful, half-peeved expression as if he knew now the men would now not ask him outright if he was the Luke Skywalker that destroyed the Death Star. That of course had been Vader's purpose. Whatever the troopers thought of his son or his actions was irrelevant, and the child was sure to be hurt by any negativity.

`There is no reason for you to be a martyr over this, Luke.' Vader passed through their bond. `It was kill or be killed.'

`I don't know, Father. But that doesn't change the fact that I killed a million people with one shot.'

Vader knew that this paled to the number he had killed in his years as a warrior. But Luke was not like him and perhaps not meant for war. Vader thought to himself, `He feels every death too keenly, a weight he believes he must carry and never let down.'

Davel spoke up again, "Well, this is even a greater honor to meet you then, Lord Skywalker."

"Just Luke. My father is the only lord in this room. MD-357 mentioned that you wished to speak to me of something."

"To thank you actually," Trans spoke up then.

Luke's brow furrowed and a trickle of unease passed through the bond. "For what?"

Trans and Davel exchanged a look. Davel nodded and Trans continued, "For saving us from that … that place … that dark place."

Luke looked at each of the troopers in turn, who were nodding in agreement with what Trans had said. "What do you mean?"

Davel took the lead again, "We … we all agree that the last thing any of us remembers before the dark place was being on Tanos IV in the troop transport. We're all in the same unit, see, and then there was an explosion and …"

"Then we were there … in the darkness. For so long," Simok, the blue-eyed trooper, intoned deeply.

"Then there was a light," Greggs added.

"No, not just a light … there was you," Davel said and leaned forward on his bed towards Luke. "You were the light. Calling to us."

"Taking us out of that … nothingness," Trans said.

The troopers looked at Luke with such thankfulness that the boy flushed. He stared down at his boots, apparently unable to meet their gazes any longer. "I'm … I'm glad I could help you."

"We … is there anything we can do for you?" Davel asked suddenly. "We feel we owe you our lives. So is there anything—"

"Oh, no! You owe me nothing. Just be well, that's all I would ask for," Luke said quickly.

"Actually, there is something that you four could do that would be useful to my son and me and get you back in the field immediately," Vader spoke up. Luke gave him a startled look; the troopers appeared pleased.

"Anything, Lord Vader," Davel said.

"We will need an escort down on the planet—"

"Father, no! Not to Black Heart! The Viateen …"

"This place is dangerous?" Trans guessed.

"Yes, very!" Luke was practically vibrating with anxiety, but Vader knew that this was the right thing to do.

The troopers' conditions needed to be tested and they obviously had a great attachment to his son.

"Yet you are going down there even though it's dangerous?" Davel asked Luke, one pale eyebrow raised.

"Yes, but …"

"Then we are definitely going. We absolutely wish to accompany you and your son, Lord Vader. It would be more than just a great honor to us," Davel said firmly. "When will we be leaving for the planet's surface?"

Smiling beneath his mask even as Luke's gaze darted between him and Davel, Vader said, "Today. I will let MD-357 know you are released back to active duty immediately. Meet us in the hanger bay in four standard hours. Rest easy until then."

With that, Vader turned on his heel and left the room, feeling Luke give one last exasperated look at Davel, who just smirked in a good-natured way, before Luke turned and ran after father. They had not even gotten out of Sickbay, before Luke was trying to engage him on his decision about the troopers.

"Father! We can't bring them down to Black Heart. No matter what the droid said, we can't be sure of their true mental and physical condition. And that place will test anyone!"

"Exactly, young one. It will put strain on them. We will be able to see quickly if there is anything wrong," Vader explained as he led them back towards their shared quarters.

Luke chewed on his inner cheek while he considered his father's logic. "I … I understand what you are saying. It's just … they've only now recovered. To have them risk their lives again--"

"Is what they do? What they wish to do. They would not be happy knowing that you were going down to a dangerous planet and they were being left behind. They want to protect you, child. You have engendered great loyalty in them. You should use this to your advantage."

"I don't want to use them in any way!"

"Then I will. I want an escort that will fight tooth and nail for your safety. And since I am their commander, that is the final word on the subject," Vader said and punctuated the statement with a gesture of one gloved fist. After a few quiet moments, Vader added, "I know that your physical silence is your effort to not be defiant. But, remember, I hear your thoughts, too."

Luke jerked to a stop then hustled to catch up with him. The boy was clearly exasperated that Vader could read him so easily, but then Luke smiled wryly up at the Dark Lord. "So you heard me calling you overly-controlling and—"

"Tyrannical. Do not forget tyrannical," Vader said mildly, and realized that he was teasing his son. He had not teased anyone in twenty years. "For myself, I would characterize my actions as decisive."

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. "Decisive? Hmmm, I'll have to remember that as a codeword for tyrannical next time."

Then a genuine grin graced his son's lips. The boy realized Vader was teasing him, too. They walked down the corridor in companionable silence, which was broken only by a discreet beep. Without stopping or even slowing down, Vader pressed a button on his respirator.

"Father, what was that?"

"It is a signal that I must change out the filter in my respirator."

Luke nodded, but Vader saw him worry his lower lip. They soon reached the doors to their shared quarters. Vader swiftly entered and went to the panel that housed the filters. Only one remained, which did not make sense to the Dark Lord. There should be at least fifteen behind the panel at all times. He had seen them there just the other day.

"Father, is something wrong?"

Vader did not answer. Instead he buzzed for his personal droid. The silver protocol droid entered quickly.

"C-704, where are the other filters."

"Oh, Lord Vader, I meant to speak to you about that this morning, but you said not to disturb you."

"Enough excuses. Tell me."

"When I went to check your supply, I discovered that other than the filter in your hand, the others were defective."

Vader's free hand tightened into a fist. "And the ones in the main storage?"

"Defective as well."

"And you just noticed this now?"

"It was like the last time, Lord Vader. Up until yesterday morning, all the filters appeared intact and completely operable."

Vader knew that well. He himself had checked the filters just the other day and they did appear fine. He knew there was a spy on board for Palpatine. No matter how often he changed the codes to his quarters or left Force traps, the person managed to get in and affect his filters. Only Palpatine had the power to avoid his stratagems. He wondered if his newly enhanced Force powers would allow him to find the traitor now. Unfortunately, it did nothing for the current situation. This was disastrous. It would delay their journey to Black Heart and it would part him physically from his son.

"You have ordered more?"

"Yes, Lord Vader. But they will not get here for two standard days."

A tremor went through the Dark Lord's form. Even with all his power, he was still only half a man, probably less than that. So much power, but undone because of lava-scalded lungs.

"Father?"

The Dark Lord brushed past Luke and went to stand by the viewport. He tried to stop the anger from overwhelming him and spilling out in violence. It would not do to frighten his son again. He would control himself. But the rage ate at him. A gentle hand was placed on his left forearm and he looked down upon his son's beautiful face.

"Palpatine is punishing me," Vader answered his son's unasked question.

"What do you mean?" Luke's large luminous eyes studied his mask.

"He is behind the destruction of the filters. Without them, I will have to remain in the stasis chamber until proper ones are sent. He does it so I will … remember how dependent I am on him."

"Stasis chamber?"

"Come, I will show you."

Vader lead Luke into his portion of their chambers. The large egg-shaped stasis chamber dominated the room. That and a large glass desk with an intergalactic access terminal were the extent of the furnishings in the room.

"There's no bed. Where do you sleep?" Luke asked quietly.

"I cannot comfortably lie down for any length of time. It makes the respirator work too hard and the weight of the machine crushes even my chest after a time. So I sleep sitting up in the stasis pod."

Vader saw a frown cross the boy's reflection in the glossy finish of the stasis chamber's closed exterior. Vader pushed the button to open the pod. The top half disengaged with a whoosh of pressurized air. The pure white interior and single chair inside were revealed. Vader could run the entire fleet from inside the pod, but he hated it. He felt more like a machine than a human being when he was in the chamber. Even with the luxury of being able to take his mask off inside, the necessary stark antiseptic interior reminded him of a cage or a casket, taking away from him even the minor joy of being free of the helmet and mask. He felt a wave of sympathy from his son. Luke was touching him again, those gentle hands on his forearms.

"How long will the one filter you have last?"

"Fifty standard hours, but since there is only one working filter left… I must not use it unless there is an emergency that requires me to be outside the stasis chamber."

"That means you have to go in there now for two days?" Luke pointed towards the chamber.

"If I am lucky. Palpatine has sent several defective batches in a row in times past. One time, it took over a standard month for working filters to arrive."

"A month!" Luke's outrage ran through their bond. "He's … a monster."

Vader was inclined to agree even though he was aware that sending defective filters was the least of Palpatine's crimes. But Vader would change things, right many of Palpatine's wrongs. Bring order to the universe without destroying it as the current emperor seemed intent on doing.

"I am most sorry that we have to be parted at this time, child of my heart," Vader said softly as he reached forward and cupped Luke's chin. "I will not be able to physically touch you for so long. I will be … bereft."

He ran his thumb over the boy's full lower lip. He felt the trill of heat run through his son. Vader was pleased when Luke did not shove the pleasurable sensation away. Luke shivered, his lips parting slightly under Vader's touch.

"Father … we shouldn't …"

"Shhh, sweet child, please, let me have the memory of touching you to sustain me in there."

It was the right thing to say as Vader felt Luke consciously relax and allow the touch. `He would deny himself pleasure, but not me. Truly a sweet child.' Vader sent waves of love through their bond. The boy's eyelids shut to half-mast and his breathing sped up as Vader pushed the tip of his gloved finger inside of Luke's mouth. He was gratified when Luke began to suck gently, almost unconsciously, on the finger. He let tendrils of his Force power drift around his son's waist, between his thighs, allowing the tendrils to tighten and caress his son's limbs. The boy gave a breathy moan at being bound like this. They would have to explore more thoroughly this aspect of his son's submissive personality when he was free of the stasis chamber. When another discreet beep from his respirator sounded, Vader, with regret, withdrew the Force tendrils from around his son. The dazed, glazed expression Luke had as his father touched him slowly retreated.

"I must leave you now, my son. We will be able to communicate via the com and our bond, of course."

"Wait!" Luke called, as Vader was about to mount the platform to the stasis chamber. "Father … do you trust me?"

Vader was quiet for a moment. "Yes. Why?"

The boy searched his mask for long moments, but then said, "Would you let me … let me try and heal your lungs?" When Vader did not speak right away, Luke said, "I know that I should probably get more practice first but … the Force … I feel I can do this and that I should do it … now."

"The only safe way to do this would be if you joined me in the chamber." Vader left unsaid that this would also mean Luke would see what was truly behind his mask. It was one thing for the boy to see his marred visage for a moment, but quite another for him to see it so closely for so long.

"I know and I also know that you are concerned about me seeing your face. But I have an idea. One second." Luke suddenly ran from the room before Vader had a chance to feel tension that his son could read him so easily on this matter. Luke reappeared a moment later carrying a long strip of black material. "The belt from one of the robes you got for me. Should work as a good blindfold, don't you think? So long as I don't directly touch your face, I shouldn't be able to see it."

Vader stared at the black strip of silk. He chuckled. The child was resourceful. They were truly going to do this. His son was going to attempt to heal him. `He can hardly make my lungs worse. And if nothing else, I will have him close to me for a time since the only way he can fit in the stasis chamber is on my lap or kneeling on the floor between my legs.' The Dark Lord settled himself in the stasis chamber's chair and reached for his son.

"Not much room for two," Luke said as he straddled Vader's lap facing him. "Do you want to do the honors?"

Luke offered his father the black silk belt, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks whether from their close proximity or the intimate act of blindfolding was unclear. Vader took the belt, carefully folded it in half then covered his son's blue eyes. He tied the material just tight enough to keep it on, but not to hurt. The warmth of his son's body against his own was intoxicating, not to mention the sight of Luke's lean muscled thighs spread over Vader's own; his son's body was completely open and vulnerable to his touch. With a shuddering breath that had nothing to do with the damage done to his lungs, the Dark Lord hit the button for the stasis chamber to close and for his mask to be raised.

"The amount of oxygen in here will make you slightly light-headed. Control your breathing, young one."

Luke nodded and began the Jedi breathing technique. As the mask was lifted from his face, Vader took a moment to just look upon his son without the visor in the way. His son's skin glowed golden even under the harsh lighting of the pod. Vader reached out and brushed the side of his son's face.

"More beautiful than …" Vader broke off when he realized he had spoken that thought out loud.

Luke flushed a becoming rose color. "Father … I must … must concentrate."

"Quite."

While Luke centered himself again, Vader detached the respirator and connecting ring from his chest and neck and set it aside. He twisted his torso to the right and left, cracking his vertebra, which were happy to be rid of the strain of the respirator's bulk. He realized that with the respirator's absence he could do something he had longed to do since he got the boy on board the Executor.

"I know you need to concentrate, child, but … I wish to …"

Luke cocked his head to the side, obviously unclear what Vader wanted. It was easier to just do it than to explain. Tentatively, the Dark Lord wrapped his arms around the boy's back and slowly pulled Luke forward until Luke's chest was pressed against his own. Luke laid his head on his father's right shoulder. The soft strands of his son's hair brushed the side of Vader's face. He inhaled the scent of his child: vanilla and cinnamon, old spices he remembered from his Tatooine market days that always warmed him.

"Father …" Luke breathed softly and snuggled tighter against him.

Vader thought, `Twenty years since I have been able to embrace someone fully without the respirator in the way. It could become addictive holding Luke like this.' He rubbed his son's back with long up and down strokes, from the boy's neck down to his sensitive lower back. Luke's arms snaked around Vader's torso and embraced him. The boy wiggled even closer. The Dark Lord leaned down and brushed his lips against Luke's forehead. Now that he had the opportunity to kiss the boy he found himself loathe to do so. Not because Luke was any less attractive to him, the child was more so, but rather he felt disgusted that his ugliness should touch his son. `The boy would allow the touch out of love and duty but not … desire. No matter what he has said. This has never mattered to me before with others. I did not realize I had any vanity left.'

Vader brushed his lips one last time against Luke's temple and was about to end their embrace and pull away when Luke shifted upwards and kissed Vader chastely on the mouth. It was just a soft, warm press of lips, but Vader's skin seemed to ignite from the touch.

"Luke." His son's name exited the Dark Lord's mouth like a prayer.

"Second real kiss in my life," Luke said softly, one small hand reaching up and touching his own lips as if they tingled.

"I liked it. Much better than the first with Leia."

Shock kept the Dark Lord silent at first. "You never cease to amaze me, child of my heart."

Luke gave him a dazzling smile. "I shall endeavor to continue to do so. I'm ready to begin. Are you?"

"Twenty years ready, child. I trust you, Luke. No matter what happens … thank you for trying to help me," Vader said quietly.

"Anytime in any way I can." After a moment, Luke reached forward blindly with his hands until they rested on his father's chest. Vader shivered at the still unaccustomed touch on his pectoral muscles so often covered by the respirator's cold impersonal bulk. He could feel the warmth of his son's hands through the leather and mesh armor then that warmth began to spread. The heat bloomed in his chest, raced down his limbs, wrapped around his neck and flowed over his skull.

"Father." Luke's voice seemed to be coming from far away as the waves of heat washed over Vader, not hurting, cradling him, embracing him, not like the fiery heat that had roasted his body so long ago.

Vader struggled to find words through the pleasure. "What … what … is it, Luke?"

"Can I … the Force … it wants to heal more than … more than just … may I …"

"Do what you wish … what the Force wishes, child," Vader answered as he let himself go into the warmth that bathed his entire body. There was light all around the Dark Lord. Pure, white light like liquid that suspended him, sustained him, blocking his sight of all else. He felt a pulling on his skull like threads beings run through cotton. The sensation was strange, but there was no pain. In this place of light, there was no pain or fear, just warmth and … `This is my son. I'm enveloped in his Force presence.' He gasped at being so fully taken inside Luke's barriers. That's when he realized his lungs felt … fine, good even. He was able to breathe deep. He could feel the tissues expanding and contracting in his chest. What was more he could feel the way his suit moved against his skin and the lightweight of his son on top of his thighs. The burning had destroyed many of his nerve endings, leaving him mostly numb or with no sensation at all. The prosthetics had been more sensitive than his own damaged flesh, but no longer. His sense of touch had been returned to him. A tingling sensation swooped through Vader and he moaned with it. His whole body arched with pleasure, almost dislodging Luke. The Dark Lord was fully erect without the use of his Force powers to augment the damaged, or perhaps not so damaged now, organ. Achingly hard and the slightest brush of his suit against his engorged cock threatened to make him cum. `If Luke would only shift up …'

Vader fought the urge to rub himself to orgasm against his child. `Not like this … not so out of control …' But the sweetness of release beckoned to him like a siren's song. The white light withdrew to the edges of his vision. He slumped back against the chair. He could see the interior of the pod and his black clad son on his lap again. Vader heard a soft moaning and it took him a moment to realize that wanton sound was escaping from his own lips. Luke's fingertips brushed his chin.

"Father, are you in pain? I … please, say I haven't hurt you!"

"No … oh, sweet child, this is not … not pain," Vader laughed softly even as he gasped again when his erect shaft shifted against the interior of his suit. "It appears that your … healing power has an added … side effect … on me."

Luke's hands fluttered up to the blindfold, but he thrust them down onto his lap without removing it. "So you're not in pain?" He asked hopefully.

"No, Luke. Feel … feel what I feel," Vader said and sent the pleasure he felt through their bond.

Luke clutched at his father's forearms and groaned softly. Vader saw and felt his son harden against him. The boy shook with their combined desire. Vader slid his hands around his son's waist and pulled the boy fully against him until their organs brushed up against one another through their clothes. The boy mewled and shuddered.

"Father! Father … please, I … oh!" His son had found the simple pleasure of grinding his erection against his father. Vader chuckled. "Oh, we shouldn't … I shouldn't … oh! I can't stop! Don't want to stop!" Luke sobbed softly as he thrust against Vader's muscled abdomen.

A light sheen of sweat had broken across Luke's face. His cheeks were flushed a delicate pink. The boy bit his lower lip, almost drawing blood, to keep from crying out his passion. The vision of his son fighting and losing this battle was more erotic, more enjoyable, than the sensation of his own shaft being caressed by Luke's wanton, frantic movements against him. Vader whispered in his son's ear, "Let go, Luke. Let go and let me hear you. Don't hold back from me. I want to hear you, child."

"Your voice! Oh, Force, your voice … you don't know what it does to me …" Luke gasped. He stopped biting his lower lip and his moans and cries echoed throughout the chamber. Vader's breath ghosted over Luke's ear and neck. He could almost taste his son's scent of musk, vanilla, cinnamon and heated leather.

He leaned in closer, until his lips were barely touching Luke's ear and said, "Come for me. Come for me, Luke."

With a shout, Luke came and so did Vader at the same time with a hiss. His son slumped against him, completely wasted from the orgasm. Vader found himself even relishing the discomfort of wet leather as they both had come in their pants like teenagers. The fact that he could feel the liquid and the discomfort was not something he could have done before. `Here I should be enamoured of the fact my lungs work and my sense of touch is restored, but I'm happier that I made my son come in my lap. I even feel light-headed due to there being too much oxygen for normal lungs in the chamber!'

Vader smiled to himself and lowered his head to kiss the top of Luke's. That's when he felt it. Something soft brushing across the side of his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it: honey blonde hair … his honey blonde hair. He had not had hair in twenty years. `The pulling sensation … it was hair growing in.' Vader reached up and tugged at the lock that fell across his cheek. He laughed at the pleasure/pain sensation of pulling on his own hair. Luke must have felt his amazement through their bond. The boy unsteadily roused himself from Vader's embrace. He was smiling softly.

"Luke … how much of me were you able to heal exactly?" The smile grew.

"Your lungs fully and … and all your flesh, Father. If the prosthetics had not been in place … well, your limbs would have regrown. But since they were there … well, we can fix that later."

Vader placed a gloved finger against Luke's mouth. He couldn't even contemplate that his limbs could be returned to him at that moment. What Luke had said before that was stunning enough. His hand was shaking.

"All … all my flesh?"

"All. Let me show you."

Luke felt for and grasped Vader's left hand, the one limb that had semi-survived Mustafar, although it had been viciously deformed, even after all the surgeries to restore full function to it. Luke unbuttoned the gauntlet and slid the glove off. Vader stared at his perfect, unmarred left hand. Pale as milk from lack of sunlight, but flawless otherwise. He flexed the fingers, feeling the natural stretch of skin as he did so. Then he reached and let his fingertips hover above Luke's face. `To touch … to feel … can this be possible?' Vader let his fingers breach that final distance and lightly traced his son's cheek.

"You do feel like silk … just how I imagined," Vader breathed.

Luke's smile grew tremulous. "There's more."

Vader couldn't stop touching his son's silky face, his soft, golden hair, the slick blindfold, the velvety collar of Luke's tunic … all the different textures were addictive. He hardly heard his son say there was more until he noticed the boy pulling out a reflective cloth from a back pocket.

"I hoped … well, I wondered if I could heal your face … and it seems I could. So I came prepared." Luke gestured to the cloth. "I think when you see … see your face it will … I hope, it pleases you … makes you happy, Father."

The boy straightened the reflective cloth. With just a slight pressure on the right hand corner, it would become a mirror. Luke blindly offered the cloth to his father. Vader took it from his son's hands. He was shaking again.

Vader raised the cloth up, closed his eyes, pressed the right hand corner of the cloth and breathed deep. He needed the intoxication of the oxygen filled-room to face his visage. Even if Luke had healed him some, he wondered if he would even recognize his own face after twenty years. But anything would be better than the gargoyle he had become after Mustafar.

Gripping tight to the courage he was known for and one of his son's hands, Vader opened his eyes. The image that looked back at him from the mirror's surface was recognizable to him. It was, after all, a face he had known quite well all those years ago. In the mirror, Vader's reflection showed his twenty-three-year-old face.

- - -

Luke held his breath as he heard his father activate the reflection cloth. At first all he heard was Vader's now easy breathing. Luke thought, `No longer the whoosh of the respirator or the harsh gasps in the pod.'

Finally, his father reacted to whatever he saw in the mirror and it was to laugh. A light joyous sound, rich and full. Suddenly, Luke was encased in his father's arms, their chests pressed tightly together.

"Child of my heart … Luke … you have … you have freed me!"

Luke couldn't help the happy cry that left his lips. He felt his father's hands at the blindfold about to untie it, then they stopped moving.

"Hmmm, perhaps I should leave you like this? You are so vulnerable and open to me this way—"

"Father, do not tease!"

Vader whispered in his ear, "Who says I'm teasing?"

A trill of heat ran through Luke's veins. Even though he had just orgasmed minutes before he felt his shaft coming to life again. He fought back the shame that came with that feeling. He wanted to experience his father's joy without battling his own demons at this moment. `Besides, it makes him happy that I desire him and … it does not seem to hurt him any that I do.' He felt his scars on his back ache though, but he pushed that feeling away as well.

"You are a million light years away from me, young one … although now seeing my face, calling you that may not make sense to many anymore."

"What? Please, may I see … see your face?"

"You will find it … familiar, Luke."

With that statement, Vader removed the blindfold. The first thing Luke saw was his father's eyes. They had fascinated him in the dream, but that was nothing compared to real life. They were glowing amber with irises so black Luke felt he could fall into them forever. Then the rest of his father's face came into focus: the high, sculpted cheekbones, the full lush mouth, the torrent of honey blond hair that flowed down to his shoulders. It was the same face as the dream. A young man's face. The only thing that would tell the world this being before them was far older than he looked would be the ancient expression in Vader's amber eyes.

"You're … you're young! That's fantastic!"

"You didn't intend this then, Luke?" Vader's voice held a note of laughter.

"I … I didn't think about it. I just pictured you … oh! Well, when I was concentrating I pictured you how you were in the dream. I didn't know how you'd look now. Maybe that's why it turned out this way. Do you mind it?"

Vader lifted one dark eyebrow at him. "Hmmm, freed from the mask and respirator and made young again? Do I mind? No, child of my heart, I do not mind."

Luke couldn't help grinning. `The only unexplained thing is how he turned out so much more beautiful than I ever imagined if in fact it was my vision of him that guided the Force to make him young again.' The smile his father gave him at that moment made Luke wonder if Vader had heard that thought. Vader cupped Luke's chin and tilted his head back.

"What is it, Father?" The full mouth pursed and Luke felt himself flood with warmth.

"Your eyes," Vader said softly.

"My eyes?" Luke couldn't imagine anything all that interesting about his blue eyes compared to his father's glowing ones.

"Yes." Vader brushed a stray lock of hair off Luke's head while he continued to stare into his eyes. "I just realized … they really are that blue. Like the clearest day."

Luke swallowed hard. Vader released him suddenly. "Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I'm … sticky."

Luke felt himself blush as he realized the state of his own pants. Vader pushed the button to open the pod. It also lowered the mask. The Dark Lord batted the mask out of his way, sending it clattering to the ground. He looked down at it for long silent moments.

"He put this on me the day you were born. He had it ready and waiting. He must have known … known what would happen to me and that I would require it," Vader said softly.

"The Emperor?"

Vader nodded tightly. He leaned down and gathered up the mask and rest of the helmet, tucking them under his arm as he walked swiftly down the stasis pod's ramp. Vader offered Luke a hand down.

"Forgive me, you must be exhausted, child, after using so much of the Force to heal me."

Luke took the proffered hand, but shook his head. "I don't feel tired at all. I didn't when I helped the troopers either. In fact, after both times I felt energized."

"It seems we are accessing not only more of the Force, but perhaps we are accessing it in different ways than before."

"If you wanted, we could attempt to regrow you limbs now." Vader couldn't help a shiver of desire for that act to be done. Luke heard over their bond, `To once again be wrapped in Luke's Force presence, to feel that light pierce me, and to come back from that place to have my limbs again …'

"I would like to try that, Luke. But only if you are sure you are up to it and not just claiming to be fine to please me."

At that moment, the protocol droid C-704 trundled in the room to see what had drawn his master out of the pod so early only to have his electronic brain nearly malfunction.

"Lord Vader?" The droid questioned.

"Yes, C-704, it is me." Vader turned and said to Luke. "Do you realize that few will believe that I am me? This is the face of Anakin Skywalker … none have seen it for 20 years and very few of them are still alive. And since my face is unchanged from that time … well, it opens up many possibilities."

"When you speak they'll know you're Darth Vader," Luke answered. "And once they see your eyes … they won't question it."

"Those who do, won't after I use Force persuade on them," Vader added and Luke couldn't help but shiver at the cold smile that crossed his father's face. No matter that his father looked like Anakin on the outside, clearly he was still the Dark Lord all the way through.

"I say, sir … I take it you no longer will need those filters?" C-704 asked.

"Don't cancel the order. Continue on as if I still require them for now. Oh, and C-704, place an order for a bed … a large bed … big enough for two … for my suite under a pseudonym. Luke and I will use his for now so at the next port will do."

If Luke thought he had blushed his last that day, it was nothing compared to the radioactive color he turned when Vader said they would be sharing a bed. `Somehow I doubt he envisions us just sleeping in that bed either. And when the other … large bed … comes, he seems to intend us to share that as well.' Luke tried to surreptitiously press down on his groin to stop what those thoughts were causing his body to do. No matter how much his mind seemed to want to reject that he and his father were fated to become lovers, his body had no problem envisioning it and wanting it desperately.

"Leave us, C-704," Vader ordered and walked over to a side table where he placed the mask and helmet down. As the droid walked out, Vader swiped one of the blood fruit from the bowl on the center of the table. With his normal hand, he broke open the flesh of the fruit. The tart sweet scent of its juice burst into the room. Vader slowly raised his healed fingers covered with crimson juice up to his mouth. His pink tongue came out and he lapped the juice up. Luke had to catch his breath at the sight of his father's long elegant fingers then being sucked clean by that lush mouth. Vader took a large bite out of the blood fruit, chuckling as the juice spurted and ran down his chin. Luke grabbed a cloth napkin and came to his father's aide.

"Do you know, Luke, that this is the first time I've ever eaten in here?" Vader gestured to the sitting room.

Luke smiled and shook his head as he tried to dab the juice Vader missed with his tongue from the Dark Lord's chin with the napkin.

"I couldn't eat anywhere but in the stasis chamber really and everything in there would have this … aftertaste. Bitter, metallic almost. The oxygen mix, probably. But this," Vader hefted the dripping fruit, "is like Nirvana to my taste buds."

"I'm glad. So happy for you."

"I know. And you have given me this happiness. Your love has restored so much to me, child of my heart."

Luke couldn't find words to respond. His eyes suddenly burned with tears. Vader held Luke in that amber gaze again that made Luke want to fidget. Luke settled for trying to wipe more blood fruit juice from Vader's mouth with the napkin. The Dark Lord took the cloth from his hand though, stopping him. He tossed it to the side.

"Don't clean me like that, Luke. Clean me like this."

Vader slowly licked his lips, leaving them wet and wanting and perfect. Luke could almost envision what they would feel like against his own: soft and firm, taking from him and giving. He could imagine licking his father's chin, the skin rougher as compared to the plushness of the lips. He wondered what his father would taste like under the sweetness of the juice. His body ignited with the thoughts and his scars seared him again.

"Father … please, I …" Luke's voice seemed to dry up on its own.

"Why are you still fighting this between us? Surely, you know that I enjoy your touch. And I think you might even have accepted that I am … what I am, Dark Side and all. I rejected it being the taboo of incest before, but perhaps I was too hasty. Was I?"

Luke hardly understood the reason himself. It was all bound up in what had happened on Tatooine when his uncle had found the datapad. Somehow desire for his father and that horrible punishment were intertwined. `And how I failed Father. Failed to keep the datapad … him … safe.'

"I had many ideas of right and wrong before I was … before I was injured … burned, Luke. I learned that things are not—"

"Burned?" Luke hardly recognized his own voice. He felt himself twitch as the word ran though his blood. Vader stopped, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on Luke's distress. The distress that ran like wildfire through him … `scorching … burning … melting flesh like wax … oh, stop! Stop! STOP!'

"Luke! Force, child, what is wrong? What is it?"

Vader was turning him around, lifting up his tunic and t-shirt. Luke didn't realize but he was clutching his back where the scars were. The scars hurt so badly, like they had when they were fresh. `But that was five years ago … oh, Force, what is happening to me?' When Vader's hand brushed the scars lightly, Luke couldn't stop the cry of pain that burst from his lips.

Vader helped him sit on one of the couches, careful not to let his back touch anything that might cause him pain. But Luke knew the agony was only in his mind. Nothing physical could truly cause his wounds to hurt like that. It was the knowledge that his father had truly been burned. Luke didn't know what he had thought was the cause of his father's extensive injuries, but he had hoped … more like pleaded … that it wasn't burning.

Vader cupped Luke's face, forcing the younger man to look at him, "Luke, please tell me what is causing you such distress."

"I can't! I … can't speak about …" Luke's throat seemed to want to close up on him and his back raged with pain again.

"This is a psychosomatic reaction, my son. Some trauma … something to do with me and … burning? And the … punishment," Vader's voice became low and dark as he said the last.

Luke nodded as his voice utterly failed him. The pain was too great. The memories he had long ago relegated to a small corner of his mind kept flashing before him. Owen's bearded face, the line of his jaw tight, as he scanned the datapad's contents; spittle flying from Owen's mouth as he flayed the skin off Luke's back; Beru pleading with Luke to just break the datapad as the twin suns of Tatooine baked his body and parched his mind.

"If you cannot tell me, young one, show me. Let me help you end this pain," Vader's voice was like a balm to Luke's ragged thoughts.

Luke thought: `Yes, just purge it all out. Show him how I was punished. How I failed. No need to fear what he'll think of me any more. He'll know everything.' Luke nodded and offered his father his mind and all the terrible memories within it.

CHAPTER EIGHT: BEYOND THE BURNING

Vader slipped effortlessly into Luke's memories. He was placed in the position of observer: voiceless and invisible to those persons in the memory, but not totally bodiless as he could feel Tatooine's twin suns broiling the air around him and taste sand, hard, dry and gritty. It brought back memories that were both harsh and warm. He almost thought for a moment that he was late leaving Watto's shop and his mother would be waiting for him expectantly with cool ruikan juice and nan sweets. But Vader was snapped back to himself when he saw a slightly younger version of Luke than the one he now knew run over a sand dune and enter the courtyard of a homestead.

After a moment, he recognized the place as the Lars homestead. It was where he had visited with Padme when he went searching for his mother. `Obi-Wan was bold to bring the boy to people I knew … to a place I had been. He didn't even change Luke's last name … or perhaps the Lars wouldn't allow him to take on theirs. My old master must have been very certain I thought Luke dead to have been so arrogant. Pity he was right this time. If only there had been a whisper of Luke's existence, I would have gotten him immediately.'

He followed the boy's footsteps in the sand down into the courtyard. Luke was dressed all in white, had shaggier hair and more coltish movements than the boy's now Jedi-honed grace. His son threaded his fingers through those wild locks and gave a guilty glance around, looking for someone, or perhaps rather hoping not to see someone. Vader then realized that he knew all of Luke's thoughts, both coherent and not, at the time this memory took place. The Dark Lord knew, for instance, that Luke was worried because he was late for chores. Luke had stayed after school to use the library's holovid and interspace research net. Uncle Owen loathed letting him attend school at all and would hit the roof if he knew Luke was using precious daylight hours to scan the net after classes ended, even for purely educational purposes. Educational, however, would not describe the tenor of his current searches.

The boy chewed his inner cheek. He had been using those school resources to find a certain planet, one with a spectacular beach. A planet the boy had no way of knowing whether it really existed or not. Luke thought, `And even if it does, what will that prove? My father's dead. And he wouldn't be so young even in the off chance he didn't die in that frigate explosion.' But something told him to keep looking, keep seeking, even as Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru discouraged him from even asking simple questions about his father. Didn't they understand that only whetted his need to know more? Their reticence to speak of Anakin Skywalker meant there was something to speak about.

Besides, his time wasn't truly being wasted, because while searching for the planet, Luke also watched videos of Lord Vader espousing the benefits of becoming an Imperial trooper, pilot or officer; videos his uncle had forbidden him to watch. And wasn't Lord Vader amazing? So strong and sleek and charismatic and what would it feel like to have the attention of someone like that on him? Luke was going to apply to the Imperial Flight Academy as soon as he was of legal age. Maybe if he was a good enough pilot, as good as his father, he'd get to meet the Dark Lord one day, maybe Vader would see the potential in Luke. The boy could almost feel the weight of one of Vader's great hands on his shoulders, sliding down the front of his chest to just above his groin … there was a flash of heat and hardness and Luke shivered as his imagination seemed unable to take him further. `Am I sex crazed or what? Like Vader would ever want anything like that with me! Got to keep it under control.'

Vader chuckled at Luke's chastisement. There was something about the boy so inherently sensual yet innocent that even if Luke had been a nameless pilot in the Imperial fleet, without Force powers, if Vader had caught sight of him, the boy would have been in his bed post haste.

Vader lost himself in Luke's actions and thoughts again. He watched as Luke crept over to one of the domed shelters in the courtyard. The boy opened the door and reached inside for the tools to fix the vaporators. The ones in the North field were acting up again. `I swear sometimes I think Uncle Owen goes out there and messes with them just so he can keep me occupied doing chores and not hanging out with Biggs or flying in Beggar's Canyon. Sheesh, no one else's vaporators fail like ours do.' But Luke immediately felt bad for such thoughts. He knew that the vaporators the Lars' owned were old and prone to break down as all things did in the harshness of Tatooine's climate. Plus, he felt he shouldn't resent a few chores. After all the Lars took him in after his parents' deaths, which, with the moisture farmers' poverty, the thought of another hungry mouth to feed must have been a daunting task. Yes, he should be grateful to them even though they were distant, even though sometimes it felt like he was just another useful droid to help in the fields, but one who they had to feed food instead of fuel. With that last unwelcome thought, Luke didn't reproach himself too much when he wished, not for the first time and not for the last, that his father were alive.

His father would never make him feel like a glorified servant. His father and he would travel the galaxy together, exploring gorgeous new worlds, encountering alien species, having adventures. He blushed furiously. `If we were together though would I still have those dreams about him? Still want him to kiss me, touch me, set my veins on fire?' Luke took a shuddery breath and wiped his suddenly sweat drenched forehead. He gathered his tools and walked around the domed shelter almost right into Uncle Owen.

"Uncle! I'm sorry, I didn't see you," Luke began with a sweet smile until he caught sight of a familiar datapad in Owen's hands. Luke felt he couldn't breath. "Where … where did you get that?"

The man's grizzled jaw clenched tighter. His eyes, used to squinting under the twin suns, were focused on Luke with startling clarity. "I found this where you hid it."

Luke and Vader could see that the datapad's lock had been breached. The boy believed he could feel the emotions he had set down in the pad streaming out into the heated late afternoon air. The dreams of his father and him adventuring, but also the one wherein his father kissed him and caressed him as no father should, but which made Luke feel like the center of the universe and caused heat to cascade through him like liquid. But now his veins seemed filled with ice instead of fire as he realized that his uncle had seen that particular dream, had glimpsed his most treasured and shameful secret.

Owen slid the datapad into an inner pocket of his robes and Luke wanted to scream for him to give it back. He had nothing of his father's, only his dreams, and Owen was taking those away, too. But he knew such a demand would be a bad idea. `Oh, gods, he looks as if he wants to kill me!' Vader agreed with that assessment and clenched his hands into fists.

Luke swallowed hard. "Uncle … I can explain …"

The blow when it came was completely unexpected to the boy, but not to Vader. The Dark Lord moved to intercept it. Vader gave out a strangled `NO' as Owen's hand went right through him as if he weren't there and connected with Luke's cheek. Vader turned only to see Luke's head snap back and the beginnings of a purple bruise bloom on the boy's face like some poisonous flower. Luke stumbled, the tools he held spilling from his hands. He landed with a painful thump on his right hip on the ground. Luke looked up at his uncle with wide, shocked eyes.

Owen growled, "How could you … we raised you … yet somehow he's managed to corrupt you even so. I must put an end to this. I will put an end to this."

"Uncle, please, they are just dreams. He's ... father's gone. They could never come true!" Owen laughed bitterly. "Luke, dreams are the deepest wishes our souls make. They reflect who we truly are. And your soul … Luke, it yearns for such … wrongness."

Pain flickered through those ethereal colored eyes, sending knife-like sensations into Vader's heart. The boy believed his uncle's condemnation. Luke put up one hand in supplication. Owen reached down and grabbed that hand, yanking Luke to his feet, straining the tendons in Luke's shoulder. The teen gave out a small cry, but bit it back when his uncle raised his free hand as if to strike him again.

"Don't cry out! You have no right to cry out." Owen pulled the stunned teenager after him, dragging Luke to a small hut at the far side of the courtyard. Vader helplessly rushed after them, outrage warring with gut churning anxiety of what was to come, because underneath Owen's anger, Vader saw something he knew all too well. There were officers he'd known that developed a taste for inflicting pain. A pleasure in it. And Force help his son, the look those officers had in their eyes as they went to torture a prisoner was in Owen Lars' eyes as he pushed Luke into the dark, enclosed space of the hut.

The boy went flying across the room and struck the opposite wall. Vader had to stop himself from trying to use his Force powers to deflect the impact. The Dark Lord repeated, `This has already happened. I can do nothing. There is nothing to be done.' But it was cold comfort.

Luke turned shakily from the wall towards his uncle. His lower lip was bleeding from hitting the wall. His hands were up in front of him to ward off blows and his eyes were so huge they seemed to take up his whole face. Owen slammed the door shut behind him, the interior lights flickering on, bathing them both in a sickly yellow glow. He paced the small room like a caged animal. His large, coarse hands opened and closed spasmodically.

"Take off your tunic," he growled and Vader gasped.

"What? Why?" Luke's voice was small.

Owen's pacing froze and he pivoted to face Luke, his hands fisted at his sides. "Take off your tunic, Luke, or I will rip it off of you."

Vader knew the boy's natural reaction was to obey his guardians. But he still watched in horror as the boy's hands moved like restless birds to do as he was commanded. With numb fingers, Luke managed to get the knot undone of his cloth belt and slipped the garment from his slim shoulders. His skin was golden. The muscles in his chest sleek yet still carrying the softness and roundness of a younger teen. His nipples were dark pink. Owen's eyes fastened on them and he licked his lips, but Luke, thankfully to Vader's mind, only half-saw and even less understood the gesture. With the tunic in his hands, Luke stared up at his uncle. Owen stared back for long moments. Then he yanked a length of rope down from a hook on the wall.

"Put your hands out together in front of you," Owen instructed.

"I … why do you want me to …." Luke cringed as Owen's hands tightened on the rope.

"You will do as I say, Luke."

"No, I'm … no!"

Luke scuttled backwards against the wall and rose to his feet, his self-preservation kicking in finally as the shock wore off. Vader wanted to cheer. `Yes, he thought, `defy him. Use that fire you show me and protect yourself!'

Owen spoke softly, "If you do not do as I say, I will lock you out of the compound tonight."

Vader growled low in his throat. The Sand People … surely Owen realized that they would scent the boy? He had his answer soon enough.

Owen continued, "You won't be able to get to another homestead before dark and the Sand People have been active in our area. Just this morning, I found the remains of one of their camps in the South field. They'll undoubtedly camp closer tonight, testing our perimeters. They'll find you. They'll drain you of your fluids slowly. And you'll … die."

Vader's gaze flicked between Luke and Owen. He wanted to scream at Luke to run. The boy would have a chance in the desert, but he'd have no chance at all if he gave up his freedom to this man. It was more than Vader's instincts that told him this. Vader could hear some of Owen's thoughts, because Luke had been able to back then even though he did not realize it. Owen intended to do something monstrous to Luke. It was like a black-winged shadow coloring the moisture farmer's mind.

"Aunt Beru won't let you do that! She wouldn't--"

"After I show her what you wrote in the datapad about Anakin `Sithspawn' Skywalker, she won't raise a hand to save you."

"Don't call my father that!"

But despite his brave words, Luke's face went gray under his tan. He knew that no one would understand his fantasies about his father. They would be horrified. He could imagine the look of disgust on Aunt Beru's kind face as she turned away from him for once and all as something unclean.

"Don't tell her … please, don't!"

"Then … hold. Out. Your. Hands. Now. Or walk out that door into the desert and never come back."

Trembling, tears suddenly spilling out of those blue eyes like rivers, Luke raised his hands out in front of him, palms together. The rope was wound around them, once, twice, three, four times and tied tightly, cutting off precious circulation to his son's hands.

"Now … kneel."

Luke's legs seemed to just give out on him. He was down on his knees, head bowed, body shaking uncontrollably. Luke whimpered as Owen's hands went to the leather belt with the metal buckle around his waist. Owen circled the boy as he slid the belt loose from his body. He raised his arm above his head, the belt slithering down his back like a snake.

"You brought this on yourself, Luke. I do this to help you," Owen said softly, as his eyes fixed on the bowed body before him. Vader laughed hysterically at the absurdity of Owen's statement, but Luke's only response was to hunch his shoulders. "The sickness," Owen's voice shook slightly, "the sickness you wrote in that datapad. Wanting your own father … like that … like … Skywalker blood is tainted. It always has been. It always will be. But I will stop you from falling further."

Luke shook his head violently, courage returning as he raised those crystalline blue eyes up to face Owen. "I may be …wrong inside … but my father wasn't! Don't blame him for what I am!"

Vader wanted to retch. His son was innocent and good and pure in ways that people normally never were and he was rejected for that. This one dream with its few kisses was nothing truly evil.

Owen said, "You don't know your father, Luke. You have no idea what imprint he left on you. It is my job to try to exercise from you as much of him as I can."

The belt whistled through the air, the buckle connecting with soft flesh with a snapping sound, gouging open Luke's lower back. Vader tried to stop the blow from falling. He threw himself across Luke's body, but nothing worked. The belt passed through him just as Owen's hand had earlier. This was a memory and he had not been there to take the blows for his son. Not been there to rip Owen Lars into bloody pieces. Not been there to stop him from saying ugly, hateful things to his beloved child. Luke didn't scream until the seventh stroke, even as blood ran down his back in torrents. There was froth on Owen's lips like sea foam. It sprayed across the boy's shoulders with every strike.

He never spoke as he flayed the skin from Luke's lower back. Finally, his arm tired and he stopped the whipping. Luke had slumped down into a limp pile on the ground. He had stopped screaming some time before and was hardly conscious. Blood pooled around his body like a red lake. The only sound in the room was Owen's harsh breaths and a keening wail that Vader realized was coming from his own lips. His son. His son! Oh, Force, what this man had done to his son! And it wasn't over. Vader knew that. The only solace was that Owen had not tented the front of his trousers from whipping the boy into near unconsciousness.

After what seemed like hours, but was closer to a quarter of a standard hour, Owen prodded Luke's side with one boot.

"Get up, boy."

Nearly unconscious from pain and loss of blood, Luke managed to lift himself to a sitting position. The boy's face was sickly white, his blues eyes glassy and unfocused. Owen caught a hold of the tail ends of the rope that bound the boy's wrists. He pulled on the rope and hauled Luke to his feet. The boy swayed, but managed to stay upright.

Owen tugged Luke forward, leading him back out into the courtyard. The dying of the twin suns cast a red glow over the sandstone buildings. Vader walked by Luke's side as Owen lead them out of the courtyard and into the surrounding desert. Blood drops from Luke's back left a crimson trail in their wake.

Owen took them to an old wrecked speeder, half-buried in the sand. The farmer tied Luke's wrists to the metal bumper. The boy was hardly conscious of what was happening until Owen handed him the datapad. Luke clutched it tight to his naked chest.

Owen grunted. "Even after the punishment, you still cling to that foulness."

Luke's words were slightly slurred and hoarse from his earlier screaming, "It is all I have … of my father. You will tell me nothing about him … you say that you have none of his things. This is all I have of him."

Owen gave a slow smile that didn't reach his eyes. Vader felt his heart clench. "I see that in order to break you of your obsession with your father … something else must break. I want you to destroy the datapad, Luke."

Luke's brow furrowed, he swayed a bit from side to side. "Destroy …"

"You have a choice," Owen continued softly, "you can break the datapad right now and we will go inside, get you cleaned up and give you food. This … your foul desires … will never be talked about again. We can go on as we have been. Or--"

Luke was shaking. The boy's hands tightened on the datapad. "I cannot break it. I will not."

Owen clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. "Or if you do not break it now … you will be tied out here. Day and night. No food. No water. Until you break it."

Luke's sweet face, pale as cream from loss of blood, set into a determined scowl. "I will not break it. I will not betray my father."

Vader gasped. Is that what the boy thought? It was a datapad filled with information from Luke's own mind, not even something Vader had ever touched. Even if it had been Vader's most precious possession it wouldn't have mattered to the Dark Lord. He wanted to shout at the boy to break the damn thing, get inside, and heal himself. `Don't play Owen's game son. Do not make that object into something it is not!' But he saw the stubborn set of Luke's shoulders. The boy would resist, would defy. Luke believed that breaking the datapad meant that he was abandoning his love of his father so he would not do it. Luke would not allow Owen to have his way on the surface so that he could live to fight another day. `My child had that damn Jedi martyr complex without the training!' Perhaps though if Owen left Luke alone, the child would be able to untie himself from the fender and escape to another homestead. Vader hoped, but he knew it was a vain hope.

Owen nodded. "I am not surprised at your attitude, Luke. The Skywalker taint is too heavy with you to get it out easily. I am prepared to wait." Owen fished out a communicator from his vest. "Beru, I need you to bring the lean-to, the laser rifle and dinner for one out to the north-west perimeter. Don't question this … just bring the things I've requested."

Luke shakily settled himself down on the still warm sand, drawing his legs up tight to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. He had hopes that Aunt Beru would save him, would convince his uncle that this was insane. But the boy was prepared to sit out here as long as it took to show his uncle he would not break. The welts from the beating were like brands on Luke's soul, giving him courage.

Vader was amazed the boy was not reacting with anger and hatred. Instead, Luke was calm. The Dark Lord could not say the same of himself. He was seething with such black rage that he expected to see darkness broiling around the invisible form he held in Luke's memories. He stared at Owen with an utter hatred he had not felt before for any living being. Beru appeared moments later with a droid helper bringing the things Owen requested.

She gave out a horrified cry at the sight of Luke's battered body. "Luke! Gods, what has happened?" She went to rush to the boy's side as he heavily got to his feet. But Owen caught her arm and held her back.

"Owen? What is the meaning of this?"

Luke and Owen stared at each other for long moments.

"Luke, do you want to tell her or should I?"

Luke swallowed hard. Beru would know his forbidden thoughts after all. His shoulders drooped, but then he straightened them.

"I … I had a dream of my father … my father … kissing me."

"Oh," Beru looked between the two men, uncertain. "A dream?"

"I wrote it down in a datapad. Uncle Owen found it and … whipped me for it. Now he wants me to break the datapad before he'll let me go inside."

Beru's mouth was open and her throat worked. "Owen, why?"

"Why?" Owen tottered back. "How can you ask—"

"But Owen, it's just a dream. No harm—"

"He desires Anakin Skywalker! His own father and you question me?"

Owen clutched her shoulder and whispered something more fiercely in her ear. Luke could not hear what they said so neither could he, but Vader could read Owen's lips. Vader's name was mentioned. Beru paled. She protested, but Owen's lips were pressed into a tight line.

"He has to be broken of it, Beru. You must trust me on this," Owen said.

She looked miserably between the two men. "Please, Luke, just break the pad. End this."

Luke felt cold inside and out. Beru would not save him. She would insist he destroy the pad, betray his father, and he could never do that. He shook his head and sank back down to sit. Owen set out up the lean-to with the droid's assistance. Beru looked on, wringing here hands, her lower lip trembling as she saw the extent of Luke's suffering. Finally, Owen sat down under the lean-to, his laser rifle to one-side and plastiglas containers of food and water to the other. The scent of roasted meat and vegetable stew made Luke alternately sick then famished. The water though tortured him. The clear liquid drew his eyes even as he tried to force them to look anywhere else. The loss of blood had dehydrated him. Owen took a deep drink from the bottle, wiping a drip from his chin with the back of one hand. Luke licked his parched lips and tried to shift so that his back was not screaming at him in agony.

"Go on into the shelter, Beru. No need for a third person to suffer out here due to Luke's stubbornness."

Beru dithered a moment longer. "Luke, just break the datapad. For gods' sake, please!"

"I won't betray my father," Luke said simply and let his chin rest against his chest. He hardly heard her leave.

Luke closed his eyes as the suns finally set. A chill evening breeze started, blowing sand that stuck to the now-tacky blood of Luke's lacerated back. He shivered. As hot as the desert was during the days, the nights were freezing and Luke only had on a thin pair of pants. His tunic had been left on the floor of the hut. He protectively placed the datapad between his thighs and chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. Vader knelt on the sand beside him, invisible ghostly hands trying to pet his son's shoulders and hair.

Luke must have dozed for a time for the memory world changed. The moon was suddenly high in the sky. Luke began shaking uncontrollably. His forehead felt feverish. Vader knew Luke's back wounds were infected, plus the shock of what had happened to his young body was taking its toll on the teen.

Owen was still awake. "I thought I heard the cries of some Sand People a little while back," Owen said conversationally.

The empty container of food had been removed, but the one with water had been refreshed. Luke's throat ached for just a sip. Owen continued, "They sounded near. I have to say Luke that if we're still out here when they come … I might not be able to hold them off us. I might have to retreat and … leave you for them."

"Do you …" Luke's voice sounded sand-paper raw. "Do you hate me that much, Uncle?"

Owen shifted in the lean-to, his face a white smear in the darkness. "I don't hate you, Luke. I'm trying to stop you from becoming a man I would hate, the universe would hate."

"You think," Luke tried to focus on the words, it was so hard suddenly, "you think I'm awful just because I love … love my father?"

"Love and lust are a little mixed up for you, aren't they?"

"No … there were dozens of dreams I had of father that I wrote in the datapad. Only the one … there was only one where he kissed me like that. I do love him."

Luke shivered and sweated. The sand stuck to his wounds was agonizing.

Owen's voice was soft when he said, "Do you think he would love you if he knew the way you felt about him?"

Luke's stomach flooded with acid at the thought. He wasn't sure. But he'd always felt that his father wouldn't hate him for it. Maybe even … "He'd understand."

Vader thought, `Yes, I would understand. I do understand. Always understand. Would never hurt you for loving me. Never.' He crouched down by his son again, aching to put his arms around him.

Owen asked, "What would he understand?"

Luke's vision was blurring. He could hardly see Owen in the lean-to. It looked like a yawning pit of blackness. "He'd understand that I … that I need him so much that I … love him so much that I want to be everything for him."

Owen moved, but Luke didn't see him do it as the fever ripped at his senses. One of the man's rough, farm-calloused hands rested on Luke's sweaty forehead for a moment. Luke jerked back, falling onto his wounds and gave an agonized moan as more sand rubbed and filled the cuts. Panting, he managed to get over to his side.

"You're feverish. You need to get inside, Luke, before there's any permanent damage. You need to break that datapad now," Owen said, not moving from the boy's side, but not trying to help him either.

"No."

Owen's head tilted from one side to the other as he stared down at his prone nephew. "You're so beautiful in your suffering, Luke. So … beautiful. But it will not save you."

Luke's fevered mind could think of no reply to that. Vader lunged at Owen, but he passed through the man as if one of them were a ghost. The Dark Lord shrieked at Owen, `He's an innocent child! A child! How can you do this?' But Vader knew being a child was no safeguard against cruelty. He had slaughtered hundreds of younglings at the Temple, even as they ran to him at first, thinking him their savior when he was their reaper. He had done it to achieve power, power to save Padme and Luke, power for himself. Owen did this because he believed it was the only way to save Luke and because it gave the farmer pleasure that he could not yet admit to himself. Vader thought wretchedly, `What separates him and I? We are both monsters.' But there was one difference: where Owen would allow Luke to die, Vader would protect him with his own life. `I am a monster, but I will be my son's protector. Use what I am to keep him safe.'

Luke curled into a ball on the cold sand, with the datapad securely placed against his chest, hoping he could avoid his uncle's eyes in sleep. Vader lay down beside him, whispering that he loved Luke over and over again. He knew his words could not reach the young man lying in the sand, but he hoped they reached the one that he knew was in his arms in the Executor.

The suns were up high in the sky when Luke awoke again. The sunlight helped chase the chill from his body, but his joints ached from the fever. He opened his mouth to give out a low moan, but his throat was so constricted from lack of water and inhaling sand particles all night long that he couldn't even make the small sound. His bleary eyes sought out Owen in the lean-to. The man was there, still staring at Luke with an unreadable expression, his laser rifle across his knees. Luke's eyes slipped closed again. Suddenly there was the pressure of a cool plastiglas container against his lips. A drip of water lay on his tongue. Luke's eyes flew open. He tried to move his still bound wrists for the container of water, but suddenly it was out of reach. Owen sat crouched a foot away, cradling the water container in his large hands.

"Break the datapad, Luke, and I'll give you all the water and food you want. Abandon that bastard, Anakin Skywalker!"

Luke's eyes prickled with tears he did not have the moisture to shed. He shook his head and slumped back down against the sand. He could feel that his exposed skin was badly sunburned all ready. He wondered when the blistering would start. Once when he was very young he had gotten lost in the desert and had been burned horribly. He'd had weeping, open sores all over his body for a week. He sensed that this burn was going to be worse.

Time started to pass very strangely in the memory world as Luke's mind broke down under the weight and fire of the fever and the suns. Vader paced in front of the boy's prone body, talking to the child until he was hoarse. Owen was a dark presence in the lean-to, but if he tried to speak to Luke, offer the choice of breaking the datapad, during those long red-hazed days where the suns torched Luke's body, Luke did not hear it so neither did Vader. Throughout it all, Luke clutched the datapad to his chest, protecting it as best he could.

The next coherent moment came when a new brighter presence joined the darkness that was Owen. There were raised voices, shouting that Luke's fever, sun-baked mind couldn't understand. Then there were cool hands on him and a cold container of water was pressed to his lips. It was Beru. Vader wanted to bless the woman.

"It's going to be okay, Luke. You're going inside. Water. Food. And we'll treat your wounds. Get you well," she promised, her voice stained with tears and strain. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I should have stopped him … stopped this."

Luke could not even raise his head by himself to drink from the container. Beru had to hold it up for him. Vader urged him to drink deep. Luke's body felt tight and seared. He could feel cracks in his tender skin, weeping blisters all over his exposed back, the burn of infection in his wounds and circulating in his blood. But even through the pain and madness, Luke realized that the datapad was missing. With an inarticulate cry, Luke used wild strength to get to his feet. He saw where the pad was … in Owen's hands. Owen stared at Luke as he snapped the pad in half. Luke screamed and fell to his knees.

That's when the vision began. Luke saw his father from the dream again. Vader saw the vision as well. His dream self stood, half-unclothed, before a raging ocean just as Vader recalled from Luke's dream. But it did not stay as the dream had. The ocean was the first thing to change. It went from brilliant blue to dark red. It became a sea of lava. The sand became black slabs of hardened, heated rock. Vader recognized this place. It was Mustafar. The boy's mind pushed so far by physical limits somehow had a vision of what occurred to him on that blasted planet. The Dark Lord wanted to block Luke's sight. But he could not. The dream version of him was still standing, smiling at Luke, when the honey-colored hair caught fire. Luke shrieked.

Vader watched as the flesh melted and blackened on Luke's dream of him, watched as the young man he'd been was destroyed by fire. He could almost smell the sweet charred scent of his long ago cooked flesh.

"No! Father! No! Oh, no no no no no! Forgive me! Forgive me for failing you! No!" Luke was crying, his voice a hoarse wrecked wretched thing.

Luke began to crawl towards the burning figure in the sand, dragging himself forward, but he didn't have the strength to get far. The Dark Lord was on his knees in front of the memory of Luke. He reached to embrace the boy and this time he could.

The cool darkness of the interior of his quarters on the Executor was suddenly around Vader and the softness of the couch was under him instead of sand. Luke was in his arms, pressed tight against his chest. Tears were running down the Dark Lord's face. He rocked the pale, trembling boy in his arms.

"Luke, I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should have been there. Should have saved you. Should have … please … forgive me …"

- - -

Luke was so grateful when the memory was over. He had not allowed himself to experience the full horror of it since it happened. But it had not been as terrible as it could have been. Vader's presence, his love, had been a buffer from utter despair. The things that his father had tried to do to protect Luke had amazed the boy. `He would have put himself in my place. He tried to take the blows so they would not hurt me. And when that didn't work, he attempted to comfort me as everything fell apart.' But his father's courage made him feel his own failure all the more keenly.

Vader's voice was softer, almost broken, "Luke, I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should have been there. Should have saved you. Should have … please … forgive me …"

Vader buried his face in Luke's hair.

"Forgive … you?"

It was Luke that needed forgiveness. He had lost the datapad … allowed his father to be burned. Vader drew back so Luke had to remove his head from where it was securely burrowed against his chest.

"You should never have been with those people. Never! If I had not … not …" His father shook his head violently. "No, I cannot speak of this. Not now! Not when you've gone through so much … Luke," Vader cupped the boy's face in his hands, "Did Owen hurt you again? After this. Did he … did he touch you?"

Luke grimaced and thought, `So it was true that Uncle Owen had … enjoyed what he did to me. I wasn't sure.'

"Luke!" Vader shook him gently, his amber eyes searching Luke's face, when Luke didn't answer him right away.

"No, Father. He never did. The droids arrived a few months later and Owen and Beru were … killed soon after. And before that … things just went on … as they had … as if it hadn't happened."

"So there are some miracles in this nightmare."

Luke hung his head. "If I had not written down that dream … had those thoughts then Uncle Owen would never have acted as he did."

Vader let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Oh, sweet child, he would have found an excuse to take his pleasure from you. Believe me, he would have found a way."

Luke's hands tightened on his father's chest. Vader looked down at him. One of the honey blonde locks dropped across his father's forehead. Luke reached up and brushed it back. Vader's eyes flickered closed for a moment when Luke touched him. `His hair was the first to go.' Luke felt tears well.

"Father, you are not the one that needs to be forgiven. I … I … you saw how I failed you," Luke said softly, nearly choking on the words.

Vader's eyes narrowed. "Luke, what do you mean?" Luke's breaths came in harsher gasps and the pain in his back flared.

"Burned … burned … couldn't save you! Lost the datapad … caused it … hurt you … oh, Force, hurt you because of my … my wrongness!"

Vader seemed to understand his incoherent statements. A loud exhale of breath from the Dark Lord's mouth.

"Child, you think you are to blame for me being burned?"

Luke couldn't speak so he just nodded. Vader tilted his chin up so that they were eye to eye.

"You had absolutely nothing to do with how I got injured."

"But … I saw … saw … after he took the pad … after I failed to save it … would never have happened if I hadn't wanted wrong things from you!"

"Luke, think logically. You saw me wearing the mask and respirator on the holovid before your uncle found the datapad. And remember that I told you that Palpatine placed the mask on me the day you were born? I've been injured for twenty years, Luke, not five."

Realization dawned on Luke. "Twenty … yes, you said that … I …"

"You were intent on blaming yourself, so you did not let logic stand in your way. The physical punishment you had undergone, allowed you to have a vision … a vision of something past. Long past."

"How could I not see …"

"The connection made sense … makes terrible sense. It was just not the right one. Your guilt and pain were so great … But, Luke, nothing you did hurt me. Believe in that. Trust in that."

Luke slumped against his father's powerful chest. The smell of warm leather and underneath that his father's spicy scent seemed to reach out and enfold him. Vader carded through his hair with his newly healed hand. Luke felt the velvety brush of his father's fingers against his temple. He sighed softly.

"I know now how ridiculous my belief was that I somehow could have such an effect on you, but after I found out you were alive … not killed by … well, by yourself … and that you were burned … it just connected for me.""

"It's a terrible burden you carried. No wonder you feared desiring me after what you thought it had brought before. How is your back?"

Vader's hand tentatively touched the scars.

"Okay. There's no pain."

"Luke, I want you to know how much I admired your strength and the courage you showed in the face of Owen's cruelty." Luke blushed and snuggled tighter.

"Thank you, but … I did not really do anything. I just … endured it."

His father's lips ghosted across Luke's forehead. "You did far more than that. Even as he harmed you, you never reached for … anger or … hate. I could never do as you did, never be as you are. But I admire it greatly."

Luke's blush felt radioactive and there was a lump in his throat. "You are so much more than I am, Father."

"No, child of my heart, not so. I just … I just hope I can use what I am to protect you from now on."

Luke wrapped his arms around his father's chest and held on tightly. The easy rise and fall of Vader's breathing lulled him into a sleepy state. `His lungs are healed, his hair back, his skin repaired and I can regrow his limbs! I can undo what was done to him. Turn back the clock.'

Suddenly his father was lifting him up and carrying him to their bedroom. `Force, I thought of it as our bedroom!'

"What are we doing, Father?" Luke felt a rush of warmth pool in his groin when Vader looked down at him with what could only be called a mischievous smile.

"Getting cleaned up, Luke. We cannot go around with our clothes and bodies in this state."

Luke felt the dried cum in his pants begin to itch and grimaced. His father was quite right. Vader set Luke gently on the bed and walked over to the bathroom. There was the sound of the faucet running. Luke had been shocked earlier to find that his bathroom had actual running water as well as a sonic cleansing system. Other than on Dagobah, which really didn't count because using swamp water to bathe was just icky, he had never had a bath or shower with water.

Vader returned with two moist, warm towels that he set on the nightstand. Vader's hands then went to Luke's boots, unzipped them and began tugging them and his socks off.

"You do not need to do that, Father. I can undress myself … really!"

A slow smile pulled at Vader's lips. "I'm well aware of that, Luke. I recall you said you hadn't been undressed by someone else since you were two."

"Exactly!" Luke said as he reached and grasped his father's hands, stilling their roving.

"The thing is, child, I would like to undress you." Vader's amber gaze lowered. "But I will not push you on this anymore. If you do not want—"

"No!" Luke was as surprised as Vader at his vehemence. Amber eyes flickered up to meet Luke's. Luke swallowed hard then forced himself to be brave. "I want … I want you. So much."

Vader's face seemed to light up from within. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, more than sure. Now that I know that I didn't … that you don't … now that I understand what I saw … Sith!"

"Luke," Vader chastised mildly, the quirked grin making it hardly a reproof at all.

"Sorry, right, shouldn't use that as a swear word." Luke stared down at their clasped hands, one pale flesh, one still gloved in leather. "I want you. I'm just so new at this. Never thought I could have this. So … please, can we go slow?"

Vader leaned in, his lips a hairs breadth away from Luke's right ear. "I would have it no other way."

Luke felt a shiver pass through his body.

"Your voice … even without the vocorder enhancement … so beautiful. I can get lost just listening to you."

Luke let his lips press against his father's smooth cheek. Half-parted, he let them slide along Vader's jaw line. The Dark Lord trembled at Luke's touch.

"We haven't had our first proper kiss, you realize, Luke."

"No, no we haven't," Luke said, his lips still whispering across his father's skin, now lower against his neck. He could feel Vader's pulse against his mouth. With a boldness he wasn't sure he possessed, he licked the pulse point and was rewarded by a harsh intake of breath from his father. "I'd like to … to kiss … be kissed by you."

Vader sat back on the bed and drew Luke onto his lap. The boy felt chills run up and down his body. He was hot and cold all at the same time. He wanted this so much. He put his arms around his father's neck. Vader cupped one cheek with his healed hand, fingers fanning out to touch as much of Luke's skin as he could. His eyes studied Luke's face for long moments.

"I thought I could not feel any more for you than I already did, but I was wrong," Vader said softly.

"Feel what?"

Vader didn't say, he showed. Luke felt his father's love for him rush through their bond. His father had sent love to him before, but this was different. More layered, more complex. Deeper. `I thought he would be repulsed by me after seeing what happened on Tatooine, but he … he loves me even more.' Luke then realized two other things: he was achingly hard and he was crying tears of delight and shock. Quickly, wiping the tears away, he tilted his head to the side and breached the distance between their lips. The first touch was soft, hesitant almost. His father letting him direct how full the kiss was. Luke increased the pressure and slipped his tongue out to trace his father's lips. Vader's mouth opened and Luke's tongue was eagerly pulled inside. Luke moaned as his father rasped his tongue with a light touch of teeth then sucked on it. Vader's hand curled around the back of Luke's head, cradling him as the kiss went on and on. Their tongues tangled. His father's taste of citrus from the blood fruit and cinnamon flooded Luke's mouth as Vader traced the interior with his tongue. Finally, the kiss ended as Luke was gasping for breath.

"I will have to teach you to breathe through your nose when we kiss. Otherwise I will have a passed out son in my arms," Vader teased, his eyes and smile bright.

"So … that," Luke gasped a little, "that was a real kiss."

"Did you like it?" Luke gave him a blinding smile.

"I'm just wondering how I'm not going to want to do that with you every single second of every single day."

Vader's laugh was delighted. "I fear I have the same concern."

Struggling to sit more upright, Luke asked, "And there's more than just that and … rubbing up against each other, right?"

His father grinned and placed tiny kisses over Luke's face, "Yes, much, much more."

"Oh … excellent," Luke answered breathlessly. "And you'll teach me, show me … we'll do all of it together?"

Vader's strong hands rubbed Luke's stomach and sides. "Oh, yes, Luke, I promise to do all of it with you … and only you. I expect … monogamy from you as well, my child."

Luke caught the possessive note in his father's voice and was surprised that it pleased him. He certainly didn't want to share his father with anyone and he had no desire whatsoever to have another touch him. He nodded his agreement and the slight tension in his father's body seemed to drain away. Vader shifted Luke back on the bed, resting Luke's head against the pillows. His hands trailed down Luke's chest, brushing over his nipples, which Luke did not realize were so sensitive until that moment. Vader's hands came to a rest just above the button of Luke's pants. Luke found himself sucking in his stomach, hoping that fingers would creep beneath the waistband. He fought down a flush when he realized what he was doing. His father's knowing smile told him that Vader realized it, too.

"May I undress you, Luke?"

"Yes, oh, please, yes." Luke's hands fluttered helplessly at his sides, until he finally let them drop down to the bed. Vader slowly pulled the button through the buttonhole. The sound of the zipper being drawn down was so loud, it even seemed to block out the rapid beating of Luke's heart. Luke's cock felt like an iron bar in his pants.

"Life your hips, my beautiful son."

Vader's hands framed Luke's slim waist, then as Luke lifted up, he slide them downward, pushing the pants and briefs off Luke's hips, thighs, calves then finally disentangling them from his feet. Luke was bare from the bottom down for his father to see. He couldn't help the blush. He fought the urge to cover himself with his hands or pull his shirt down. He turned his head away, suddenly unable to look at Vader anymore as he felt his father just drink in the sight of his naked, erect cock.

"Look at me, Luke."

"I … I can't. I'm—"

"You have no need to be embarrassed. You are so desirable and like this … open for me like this … irresistible."

Luke gasped and arched as he felt his father's flesh and blood hand grasp his sex lightly. Vader leaned over and grabbed one of the warm moist towels from the nightstand and began to rub Luke's sex clean from his earlier spilled release. The friction of the soft towel and the even softer slide of his father's palm against his engorged cock had Luke moaning and writhing.

"Oh, Father! If you … if you keep doing that I will … will release again!"

"And get yourself all dirty after I have just cleaned you? I think not."

"Then you must … must stop touching me!"

"You mean I must stop touching you this way."

Suddenly the towel was gone and there was no blessed friction against Luke's sex. With a needy moan, Luke thrust his hips up into the air as if he could recapture the feeling of his father's hand and towel. Luke's blue eyes fluttered open and he looked down to see what his father was doing. Vader's lush, expressive mouth was poised a few inches over Luke's sex. His breath passed over the sensitive tip and Luke nearly cried with need.

"Please, Father!"

"Please what, young one?" Vader's smile was wide and knowing.

"Let me … make me … cum!"

"You wish release?"

Vader trailed his fingers over Luke's bare stomach that was revealed as the t-shirt and jacket hiked up with Luke's earlier frantic movements.

"Force, yes! Please!"

"All right then," Vader said softly and Luke shrieked as his father's mouth engulfed his sex. Hot. Wet. Suction. Tongue tracing the vein that ran up Luke's sex's length. His father stopped Luke's hips from rocketing off the bed by holding them down with his strong hands. Vader had swallowed him to the root. He felt his father's throat muscles work around his shaft. He mewled helplessly, knowing it was mere moments before he would cum. His father's cheeks hollowed as he sucked powerfully on Luke's cock.

"Father! I'm going to cum now! Can't stop! Can't!"

Luke wanted to give his father warning to pull off, but though Vader appeared to hear him, his only response was to work Luke's sex more diligently until Luke's release was streaming down his throat in gushes. Finally, when Luke was spent and shaking, his sex almost aching when touched by his father's tongue, Vader pulled off. He gently wiped Luke's cock clean again with the still damp towel.

"There … no mess."

Vader was grinning. Luke was boneless on the bed. His eyes half-shut, unable to speak and barely able to move. Vader crawled up his son's body, careful to keep his weight off the smaller form beneath him until his lips were level with Luke's. The boy did have the strength to reach up and kiss his father softly. Vader's tongue invaded Luke's mouth bringing with it a new taste: sort of sweet yet with a bitter, almondy bite.

"That's your taste, my beloved," Vader whispered after the kiss ended.

Luke snuffled against his father's neck contentedly. He tried to pull the older man down on top of him to cuddle, but Vader resisted.

"I would crush you, Luke."

"Then lie beside me."

"It's been so long since I've lain down; I wonder if I remember how."

Vader shifted his body so that he could lie down beside his son Luke turned to face him and Vader tucked Luke securely against his chest, his arms wrapped around the smaller form. Luke looked at his father's face across from his own on the pillow. Vader's eyes seemed to glow in the low light. Luke reached up and placed a feather-light caress against his father's cheek. Vader turned his head and nuzzled his son's hand.

"This is really … nice," Luke said quietly.

"Only nice, young one?"

"There really aren't words for how good this feels," Luke admitted.

"I tend to agree."

Luke shifted his lower body against his father's and felt Vader's unabated arousal.

"Oh, you haven't … I could … would you let me …touch you, too?"

His father smiling at him was something Luke couldn't get enough of and the smile he was giving his son right at that moment was one that Luke would hold in his heart and savor forever.

"I would greatly enjoy that, son, but you do not have to. What I did earlier was for you. I expect no recompense."

"But I want to!"

Vader spread his arms wide. "Then feel free to touch me however you like."

Luke shifted up so he was kneeling on the bed beside his father. He undid the clasp to Vader's cloak. It fluttered off his father's shoulders and drifted down to the floor.

"Lay on your back."

Vader complied and Luke straddled his father's thighs. Luke felt his father's eyes track his every movement as if the Dark Lord couldn't get enough of the sight of his son. Making a bold decision, Luke removed his jacket and t-shirt so that he was completely naked. His father's breathing hitched. Luke fought down a blush. Vader's hands reached up and stroked Luke's bare sides and trailed over to his nipples, plucking at them. Luke gasped. He swatted those teasing hands away after a moment.

"No, Father, I want to pleasure you."

"Touching you like that … seeing your reaction does pleasure me, Luke."

"Well, it seems to shut down all my brain functions when you do it and I want to concentrate here."

Vader laughed. "Then I will attempt to be good and keep my hands to myself … for now."

Luke reached up to the fastenings of the leather armor that covered Vader's torso. As he undid the almost invisible clasps, he said, "We haven't checked out the rest of my handiwork, you know. Your chest and stomach, hips and thighs …"

"No, we haven't. I should warn you though that there is no syntheflesh on my prosthetics. I will be able to feel your touch through the sensors, but … I kept them plain metal."

"Why?"

Vader shrugged against the comforter. "Easier maintenance and I never intended to be with anyone naked again so …"

Luke nodded, though he felt a wave of pain at what his father had been denied so long. `Touch … never to touch or be touched. In pain constantly and having to struggle for every breath for twenty years. How did he survive it?' Luke unfastened the last clasp and pulled open the armor that covered Vader's torso. The Dark Lord looked down at his chest just as Luke did to see what was revealed.

"Beautiful," Luke exhaled. His father was something to see. Sculpted muscles, sleek and powerful, all covered in pale as alabaster skin, with dark nipples that just begged for Luke's mouth. The slim waist that was just below his father's muscled, lean stomach.

"You did a remarkable job in healing me, Luke," Vader's voice was soft, a touch of awe in it.

"This is you … what you should have always been."

Luke leaned down and mouthed one of his father's petal-soft nipples. Vader arched off the bed, an inarticulate cry burst from his lips. The nipple pebbled against his tongue and Luke suckled on it happily. He didn't really know what to do; he was just going by instinct, when he grazed his teeth over the hardened flesh. His father's moan told him he was doing it right.

"Child, if you do not undo my pants, I will cum in them again and I do not want that!"

"How do you want it then, Father?"

Luke asked as he detached his mouth slowly from the tasty nub.

Vader's amber eyes darkened to copper. "I want to cum all over you, Luke. I want your golden skin covered in my seed. I want to thrust against your body when I release."

"Even though it will make me dirty again?"

"You could never be dirty, child of my heart." Vader's hands gripped Luke's hips.

"I want that, too. I want your essence all over me."

Luke was shaking. Waves of heat and desire coursed through him. He was hard again. He felt the brush of his erect sex against his stomach, leaving a small trail of precum behind. He reached for the belt at his father's waist. His hands fumbled with the clasp, but finally he pulled it free. The fastenings to his father's pants went next. He was about to ask his father to lift his hips so he could pull them down, but suddenly Luke was on his back, his father above him, sitting between his legs. They both were observing Vader's heavy genitals, erect and proudly jutting from dark curls.

"You truly have remade me, Luke." Vader clasped his engorged sex in his healed hand. His whole body quivered for a moment. "My cock before you healed me was functional, but as ugly as everything else about me. And now … you have changed everything."

"I just gave back what you lost," Luke said softly as he looked at his father's beautiful organ. He trembled at the thought of it brushing against his skin and then a deeper, hotter desire flushed him: `What would it feel like filling me, stretching me, making me cry out?' Vader stripped off the leather armor that covered his torso. Luke traced the dividing line on his right arm where flesh became steel.

"When do you wish me to fully heal you, Father?"

"After we go down to Black Heart. I may need to retrain my body to fight optimally with flesh appendages and I want to be nothing less than optimal on the surface. The Viateen scent weakness like the Hutts do a scam. Plus …" Vader gave an amused chuckle, "none of my clothes are going to fit me any longer and I will have to have my droid requisition some that will."

"What?"

"I'm not really this tall, Luke. I'm only six foot, two inches really." With a twist of his lips, Vader added, "Palpatine thought it amusing to make me more golem-esque by giving me prosthetic legs that made me near seven feet in height."

"So I'm not such a shrimp compare to you after all!" Not that Luke minded being smaller than his father. In fact, it made him feel … safe and … aroused all at the same time.

"You are the perfect size … so beautifully proportioned." Vader stroked Luke's chest until the younger man was breathing hard.

"It is you who are beautiful, Father," Luke gasped.

"I am glad my form pleases you, young one. It seems we please each other."

Vader slid down his pants until his hips and thighs were free. Luke could just glimpse the change from flesh to metal. He covered Luke's body with his own. Both men groaned at the feeling of flesh against flesh.

"Oh, so long … so long since I've had this! And it's perfect … so perfect with you, child of my heart!" The heat and heft of his father's body over his made Luke's cock jump. Vader was not putting his full weight on Luke's smaller form, just gliding his body across his son's prone body. The Dark Lord nibbled on Luke's lower lip and Luke let out a surprised gasp of air at how good that felt. Luke went to reach up to encircle his father's neck with his arms, but Vader caught his wrists and held them down above Luke's head.

"Don't you want me to touch you?" Luke asked as a strange thrill went through him at being at Vader's mercy completely like this. He knew his father would not hurt him, but the feeling of being controlled was causing him to experience spikes of pleasure. He wondered if what he was feeling was wrong. Vader seemed to be watching him even more intently than before.

"Yes, I want you to touch me … but I also like this, when you're helpless beneath me. Do you like this, young one?"

Vader ground his hips against Luke while still gently holding Luke's wrists above his head. The boy moaned. Their dicks had released enough liquid that they could slide over each other with greater ease. His father's genitals were so big and he loved the weight of them against his own cock and stomach. He wished his father's cock would go lower. He wrapped his legs around Vader's waist. His father thrust more powerfully against him. Vader's cock glided over Luke's perineum and balls. Luke felt a wave of heat fill him. `So close … he's so close that if he just tilted and thrust he'd be inside me.'

"Do you like being held down, my son? Do you enjoy being under my control?"

"I … I … yes." Luke suddenly blushed and felt a little sick. He turned his head to the side so he wasn't looking at his father and his legs unwound and dropped back down to the bed. Suddenly, Vader released Luke's wrists and he was gently forcing Luke to look at him.

"What is it? What are you thinking that you suddenly pulled away from me?"

"I shouldn't want you to … " Luke stopped in frustration. He didn't know the words for what he felt.

"To dominate you?" Vader's voice was so low and Luke felt that inexplicable heat again. "Young one … there is nothing wrong with liking that. Considering my personality … it is perfect that you should enjoy it."

Luke pulled his now freed hands down and held them across his chest, his erection flagging slightly. "But Jedi should not … be submissive like that! Weak like that!"

"It doesn't mean you're weak, Luke. Force, child, you are stronger than most anyone I've met and more defiant with me than anyone has dared to be in over 20 years. Enjoying being dominated in the bedroom doesn't change that. It doesn't make you less of a Jedi. Indeed, considering the power you have over me …" Vader stopped and bit his lower lip.

Luke repeated with a small smile, "I have power over you?"

His father's eyes shifted from his and a slight frown appeared on his face, "You have so much power over me, Luke, that it's a bit frightening. And that power grows the more we're together."

Luke reached up and touched his father's cheek. "I would never abuse it with you. Father, I swear I wouldn't."

"Please believe the same is true of me. At least know that in the bedroom, you can trust me, that you are safe." Vader leaned down and kissed Luke softly on the forehead. "Safe to be whoever you truly are."

Luke reached for his father's neck and pulled Vader easily down against him so he could snuggle against his father's shoulder. "I don't know who I am … in this way. In love making."

"Finding out is the fun part."

Luke suddenly gave a horrified laugh, "Force, what you must have thought when I brought you the blindfold earlier! That's what you meant when you said I was so open to you."

"Hmmm, it did give me ideas, child. Plus your enjoyment of being caressed and restrained by Force tendrils."

Vader nuzzled Luke's neck, placing light kisses that left blooms of heat on Luke's skin.

Softly, Luke said, "I don't know what I feel about wanting you to … dominate me. I'm …"

"Not ready to deal with that yet. I shouldn't have pursued it. We're just getting started together. I'm sorry I've gone too fast," Vader answered and kissed his son's cheeks in such a paternal, non-sexual way that Luke laughed genuinely this time.

"Don't go all platonic on me, Father! I may not be sure of some things we do together, but I do know I want many, many things."

Luke wound his legs back up around Vader's waist. "Please … please rub against me more. The feel of you … touching me, caressing me … I want you to cum all over me. Please, Father?"

"How can I resist you when you ask so prettily?"

Vader reached down and grasped his son's slim hips and began to thrust their bodies together. Luke groaned at each hot swipe of flesh against flesh. He felt his balls tightening up against his body. The sounds his father was making, almost low growls and moans, as their bodies moved so warm and slick together tipped Luke over the edge and he was gushing over them both. Vader increased the pace of his thrusting and leaned down to suck on Luke's neck. Luke arched into the suction, loving that his father was marking him and not giving a damn if that was submissive or not. He wanted it, wanted to have physical proof that he was his father's and his father was his. Vader gave out a shout and his seed splashed hot and thick across Luke's stomach and chest. The scent of his father's release was ambrosia to Luke's senses. He felt almost drunk off the smell.

Vader slid to the side so he wouldn't crush Luke beneath him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he came down from his orgasm. His father grasped Luke's body and drew him close.

"Are you all right?" Vader asked as one hand gently carded through Luke's sweaty hair.

"Better than that. So good. Never knew why people got all hot and bothered about sex. Now I understand."

They gently dozed against one another. Luke's head was pillowed against his father's firm chest. The warmth of Vader's body against his own relaxed him in a way that nothing else ever had. His father, of course, was the one to rouse them.

"Young one, we must get up … get cleaned so we can go down to Black Heart."

Luke stifled the cold feeling in his stomach at the thought of going down to the planet's surface again. "Can't we stay here and … explore each other more?"

Vader's laughter rumbled against Luke's ear. "Trying to avoid going down to the planet, are we, Luke?"

Luke shifted uncomfortably. "Just … being together like this is so much more … pleasant."

"Yes, but we have our duties. Besides, I promise there will be plenty of time to … explore each other later," Vader said the last as a husky growl against the shell of Luke's right ear. Luke shivered at the dark, hot promise in that tone.

- - -

Vader watched his son's reaction to being cleaned in the bathroom. The Dark Lord used a warm moist towel to clean his son's groin, stomach and thighs before doing the same to his own body. The boy sought out his touch now, almost curling into his side as they stood together. He was so glad that his testing of Luke's submissive tendencies had not chased the boy away altogether. He cursed himself for being thrice a fool. The child had no experience with sex at all and here he was pushing him to explore an aspect of his personality that clearly made the boy uncomfortable. `Incest and his virginity are enough obstacles to be faced in our first real encounter.'

Vader stripped off his pants. Luke stared at the place where metal and flesh met. With a tentative look at his father's face for permission, which Vader gave with a nod, Luke leant down and touched the boundary line. His warm fingers lingered on the metal. Luke glanced up at Vader.

"You can feel this?"

"Yes, the sensors run through the metal's surface."

"Do you feel … pain?"

The worried look in those expressive blue eyes made Vader want to grab the boy and soothe him with kisses, but kisses would lead to caresses, which would lead to more sex and they would never get out of their chambers before the sun set on the portion of Black Heart they needed to go to. Even Vader had no desire to go to the blood temple in the dark.

"I know when the leg is injured, but I have it programmed so that I do not experience pain per se. That is something I will have to get used to again with flesh and blood limbs. But I am looking forward to it."

Luke gave him one of those blinding smiles that Vader was fast becoming aware he was addicted to. Seeing the boy happy was a goal now. He knew that taking him down to Black Heart would distress his child, but it had to be done. Happiness would have to be set aside for their greater advancement in understanding their new and greater Force powers. Luke began to tug on another pair of black trousers and Vader did the same.

The com chimed and Vader answered. "Yes, Admiral."

"Oh, Lord Vader … you are not in the stasis chamber?"

The bizarreness of the question at first lead Vader to just stand there silently. Then he realized that besides Luke and his personal droid no one knew of his changed health. He was not going to explain it now to Admiral Piett over the com so he answered simply, "No, what is it Admiral?"

"A group of ships has just materialized out of hyperspace on the far side of Black Heart, sir. We believe they are … slavers."

"They are not aware of our presence." Vader's comment was not a question; it was a certainty, as the Force told him so.

"Not so it would seem."

Luke gripped his father's forearms in concern. The boy obviously felt the anger that seethed through Vader's veins like ice. He hated slavers more than any other kind of villainous scum. His mother had been captured while she was pregnant with him and taken from her home world as a slave. He had been lucky that their master Watto had wanted Vader only to work in the shop fixing droids and not as a sex slave, but then again the Dark Lord had only been six at the time he was removed from Watto's ownership so perhaps the blasted alien had merely been waiting until he was older to earn money off him that way.

"Admiral, take us around to attack formation."

"Will you be joining the hunt, sir?"

Vader would have like nothing better than to get in his ship and destroy the slavers' vessels personally, but he realized with a start he could not do that. His ship did not have a separate life support system due to his use of the respirator. He had designed the ship to be faster and more powerful with its absence.

"No, Admiral. I will join you on the Bridge."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

The Dark Lord heard the surprise at his refusal in his second's voice, but the man knew better than to voice it. Vader looked down at Luke.

"I had hoped to prepare my crew for my new … appearance, but it will be a trial by fire instead."

Luke nodded. "Can I come with you to the Bridge?"

"Yes."

They finished dressing in a flurry. Vader stared at the mask and helmet sitting on the table. He would not put them on again. He knew there was still the matter of the spy somewhere on the ship. His only hope was that he would locate the man, and terminate him, before any report of his altered circumstances got back to Palpatine.

"Perhaps … you should carry the mask and helmet to the Bridge?" Luke suggested. "That might help them adjust."

Vader nodded, but his hands didn't seem to want to move. He loathed these articles now though he knew that was illogical. There was no time for him to be vacillating. He grabbed the hated items and tucked them under his arm.

The journey to the Bridge without his respirator, helmet and mask was strange. Luke's gentle Force presence was suddenly wrapped around him like a second cloak. At first Vader resented that his unease was so apparent, but then he realized that denial of what he was feeling was just as foolish. He sent a warm thank you to his son through their bond and Luke smiled. The men they passed in the hallways clearly recognized him as Vader by his height and oddly … his eyes. Luke had been correct that his eyes seemed to confirm who he was even though these men had never seen his face let alone knew his eye color. The glowing amber color of his eyes had shocked the Dark Lord himself. The occasional night shine had occurred when he had turned to the Dark Side originally, but now the glow was permanent. It felt a part of him, a revelation to the universe of what he was: the Dark Lord, the Master of the Dark Side.

As the elevator to the Bridge shut behind them, Vader turned to Luke with a crooked smile. "I believe my looks are going to shake the normally unshakeable Admiral Piett."

Luke grinned. The doors to the elevator whooshed open and Vader, followed by Luke, stepped out onto the Bridge. Admiral Piett swung around to face him as always, but contrary to the norm the man's mouth dropped open.

"Admiral, what is the status on the slavers?"

Vader walked past his gob smacked second to stand by the plastiglas windows. With great care he placed the helmet and mask down on a nearby free console then stood with his hands behind his back as was his wont and waited for Admiral Piett to recover himself. Luke joined him, a small smile on his face, but exuding only Jedi calm instead of amusement.

"Lord … Lord … Vader … so it is true …"

Vader turned around to look at the Admiral. This was not what he was expecting the man to say. Admiral Piett's eyes went from Vader to Luke.

"Admiral--"

"He can heal grievous wounds," Admiral Piett exclaimed while looking intently at Luke, too shocked to realize he had cut off his superior. "He can raise--"

"ADMIRAL!"

Vader would not have the fact that Luke could raise the dead bandied about for just anyone to hear. The boy went slightly pale, but continued to carry his serene demeanor. Vader thought viciously, `I really will have to kill Dr. Nakima. She must have been--"

With that still shocked expression on his features, Piett said to Luke, "Trans … Damon Trans is my nephew … one of the troopers you … helped."

Then Vader remembered. `Yes, Trans is related to Piett, but chose to become a common trooper instead of using his uncle's connections to become an officer. Piett knew that the boy was injured and that he had died. But Trans would have contacted his uncle directly after he was released from Sickbay. What will he do with his knowledge of my son's abilities? What will he force me to do to keep Luke safe?' The other officers on the Bridge had their eyes fixed on their workstations, but were listening intently to every word. Vader was surprised to find no fear of Luke in their minds, but instead curiosity and … warmth. He realized it had something to do with Luke's aura. The boy was unconsciously affecting all those around him, making them more at ease and calm.

"Admiral, this is not the time nor place for this discussion," Vader commented softly, but his voice held a tone that brooked no argument and appeared to snap Piett out of his shock.

The Admiral passed a hand over his forehead, took a deep breath and said, "Yes, Lord Vader, forgive me. You asked about the status of the slavers. There are six large heavy class ships plus a dozen or more fighters. They will be within our sights in moments."

"Excellent. Have our fighters standing by to engage."

Vader turned back to the viewport. He felt Luke draw closer to him. Vader reached over and placed a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. The boy relaxed immediately. The Dark Lord watched as the slavers' ships appeared as the Executor rounded the planet.

"Father …" Luke's voice sounded small, hesitant, and almost ill.

"Child, what is it?"

"There's …" Luke rubbed at his forehead as if it pained him, "there are people … people suffering on those ships. They are starving and … so frightened. Oh, Force, Father, it's awful."

"That is the fate of a slave, Luke. To be at the mercy of wretches." Vader's voice went icy.

"If we attack the ships … some of the slaves could be hurt or even killed."

"Unfortunately, the slavers will either run or fight, Luke. They will not surrender. The penalty for slaving in the Empire is death. If we let them go then all of those slaves will suffer … if we fight them then some might be harmed, but others will be saved. We have no choice."

Luke nodded, but the frown wouldn't leave his face.

"Should the fighters be launched, Lord Vader?" Piett asked.

Just as Vader was about to answer him, the red flash of laser fire washed over the viewport. Another dozen fighters from the slaver ships that had been hidden from sight by Black Heart's moon had rounded the moon, seen the Executor and fired.

"Admiral, should I be asking how you missed those fighters?"

"Our sensors have not worked properly, Lord Vader, since beginning our orbit of Black Heart."

Vader knew the reason why. The planet gave off enough Force energy to disrupt many of the Executor's systems. One of the slavers' fighters swung around and was firing directly at the Bridge. The force field would keep the damage minimal, but the audacity of the slaver brought Vader's rage to a head. With a flick of thought, he envisioned the fighter destroyed The fighter exploded, disintegrating into millions of shiny shards.

"How did that happen?" Piett was growling at one of the laser technicians. "We didn't hit it with any of our laser fire!"

Luke glanced up at his father's face. "Father … you did that?"

"Yes … and I can do it again."

Vader used the Force to locate every one of the slavers' fighters and destroyed them with a single thought. There were gasps from those on the Bridge, as the fighters became blooms of fire in the darkness of space without a single shot being fired by the Executor. Then Vader envisioned the engines of the bigger ships that held the slaves and destroyed those, too, so that the six heavy class ships were sitting prone in space. He felt a wild joy at the destruction and he knew this was only child's play. He could destroy so much more … so easily. If he wished it, he could have exploded the slavers' hearts where they stood. But he refrained for Luke's sake, dragging in his Force powers like fishing lines.

"Admiral, the six heavy cruisers are now disabled. Use the tractor beam to bring them into the hanger bay. Have a squadron of troopers ready to meet and board the ships."

"Yes … yes, Lord Vader, just as you wish." Admiral Piett's voice shook only a little and Vader was proud that he had not killed the man prior to this. He was behaving well considering the circumstances.

"It appears that things have worked out better than expected. The slavers are captured without risk to the slaves. Does that please you, young one?" Vader asked.

Luke was staring up at him wide-eyed. "Father, you could not do that before, could you? Destroy ships like that?"

"No, otherwise dealing with the Rebellion would have been far easier."

"And that's not the extent of your new powers, is it?"

"No."

"Could you … could you destroy bigger ships than the fighters?"

Vader pursed his lips. "Yes."

"Ships the size of Star Destroyers?"

"Yes."

"What about … what about something as large as the Death Star, could you destroy something like that?"

Luke's hands went to his father's forearms. Vader quirked an eyebrow up at that.

"That would not be difficult to do."

"The Death Star is the size of a moon … so you could destroy moons, too, then?"

"Yes, I could destroy moons."

Luke's grip on his forearms tightened as the boy searched his face for something. "What about planets … or even … suns? Could you destroy--"

Vader placed a finger against Luke's lips. "I don't know what the extent of my ability to destroy is. There may not be a … a limit."

"You wouldn't do that though … you wouldn't destroy planets with … with people on them, would you?"

"Not unless there was no other choice, child of my heart."

Luke's blue eyes seemed to glow with a white light. The boy's voice was small and low, "What has happened to us, Father? What are we?"

Part 3

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