Luke Skywalker twisted his back to one side, then the other. He grinned at Garret who was standing in the corner of the medical suite. "This is great, I can't even feel any tightness." The young man grimaced, "But I wish I could get rid of the taste in my mouth. Ugh!"
"Bacta always does that." The Lieutenant grinned. "You better get dressed, Lord Vader wants me to bring you to the Imperial throne room in half an hour."
Skywalker walked to the bed, pealing his white medical shirt and grabbing at the clothing laid out on the bed. Luke quickly pulled the dark blue silk shirt over head, still self-conscious about the vivid scares running over his back. He then slid into the black pants and boots. Skywalker tucked in his shirttails and Garret reached over to straighten his collar. Garret turned back to the bed and picked up the black cape with its blue lining and then fastened it around Luke's neck with a jeweled pin.
"There you go." Garret said as Luke turned to the mirror. "Sorry I couldn't come up with anything better, but I only had an hour- we'll get you some nicer clothes in the next few days."
Skywalker smothered a small laugh. "Garret, I've never even worn anything but farmer's white before today. This is fine." Then Skywalker gave a wicked grin. "Except for the time I was a stormtrooper. Or the time I was a tech, or,"
"Come on, Skywalker. Let's go." Garret said, rolling his eyes.
As the two men walked through the corridors of the Imperial Palace, Luke Skywalker quickly lost his good humor. His nervousness grew as he noticed the unfriendly eyes of the people they passed in the hall. Everyone they passed was dressed in lavish outfits that were coated in jewels. Their eyes measured him, and dismissed what they saw. He couldn't be worth their time, they had never seen him before and he obviously didn't have much wealth.
They walked further, and Luke noticed that the stormtrooper guards were everywhere. The white armored men stiff at attention while they watched the bejeweled crowds. Luke cautiously looked around, trying to figure out what they were guarding against, and couldn't figure it out.
They rounded the last corner, and Garret slowed. To one side was a long informal line of petitioners to the throne. Lavishly dressed people of various races were standing off to one side, quietly whispering among themselves. The lieutenant's eyes scanned the room, and then he headed towards the crimson robed guards along the far wall.
The uniformed lieutenant nodded at the guard and said "Luke Skywalker" as he motioned in Luke's direction.
The head guard nodded back, and gestured to the side. Garret caught Luke's eyes, and they moved off to one side of the room.
"Now, we wait," Garret explained. "Just be patient, and remember what I told you on the shuttle." After he had learned that his lord intended for Skywalker to meet the Emperor, he had given the young man a quick lesson in what was expected. Garret had never met the Emperor, but all officers were taught etiquette at the Academy.
Luke nodded, then looked at the various people waiting in the line. "Why so many non-humans?" He asked. He had thought that the Empire had fairly strict policies against non-humans and was surprised to see so many of them waiting to see the Emperor.
"When the Senate was dissolved, many of the non-human races began to petition the Emperor for 'approved' status on their record of loyalty to the Empire."
"Oh." Skywalker looked over and saw four approaching Imperial Guard. "Here they come."
"Good luck."
Luke walked through the wide doors as two of the Imperial Guard opened them. Once through, the doors were closed behind him, clanging shut. The two remaining guards flanked him as he walked forward, their crimson robes fluttering in the still air. Skywalker looked around, noticing the many guards standing on the edges of the huge room.
The throne room was furnished in black, its vast space seeming huge even with the almost gloomy interior. A huge window covered one wall behind the raised dais for the throne. The window overlooked the city that was Coruscant, and the setting sun was turning the city from gray into burning reds, oranges, yellows and purples that reflected off the durasteel and glass and streamed through the room. Skywalker slowed as he soaked it all in. Awed, he noticed the colors, the shadows, and the absolute stillness of the huge room. It was very quiet, and Skywalker dared a glance at the throne.
His father stood there, black monolith cutting into the sky, and a huge chair next to him. The chair was turned away from the room, its occupant hidden. Luke swallowed, nervous. He didn't know what the Emperor had been told about him. He doubted that his father would hold anything back, and that thought began to make him very uncomfortable that a stranger, even if he was the Emperor, probably knew about his life back on Tatooine. Luke resolutely pushed the thought away, and kept walking to what he figured was the appropriate location and stopped.
He bowed his head, and began to wait. He thought about the Emperor, who was sitting up there, ignoring him. At first, he was a little angry that the man was being rude, but he quickly squashed that thought. The man up there controlled most of the galaxy, he could talk to whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Luke continued to wait, the guards at his sides stone still and silent.
It didn't take long before Luke wanted to fidget. Instead, he tried to see if he could hear his father's respirator. If he tried, he could. The quiet room carried sound amazingly well. Then, just to pass the time, Luke tried seeing if he could locate the hidden guards around the throne room. He knew only some of the guards would be in plain sight, and that there were bound to be others. He strained his senses, rotating his eyes as far as he could without turning his head and concentrating on the faintest whispers of sound, and thought he could make out at least five, no six, people hidden in the shadows.
The faintest whisper of sound, and Luke glanced up, and then hurriedly looked down. The throne was turning, rotating to face the room. Luke had caught the barest glimpse of a figure draped in a huge black robe before he had quickly looked down. Garret had told him not to look at the Emperor, it was considered disrespectful.
"So." An aged, hoarse whisper floated through the room. "This is the boy. Quite a lot of trouble you've gone through for a farmer, Lord Vader." Luke clenched his jaw, holding his tongue. He had hated farming and wanted to snap a retort, but Garret had been absolutely adamant that he should not speak unless asked a question. A dry, rasping chuckle skittered around the room. "What? Didn't you like trying to squeeze water from the air? Hum?" The Emperor paused, watching the young Skywalker.
"Lord Vader told me how well you have been treated, young Skywalker." Luke's eyes narrowed as he stared at the floor. He felt the faintest brush of shame, but quickly shoved it out with his anger. The Emperor continued, rasping voice almost purring. "I should ask to see your back, I would guess it is quite beautiful. Hum?" Luke swallowed, fighting to control his emotions. He couldn't believe the Emperor was talking about that- he suddenly wanted to run, or to deny everything, or even yell and scream at the Emperor. He didn't dare do anything, so he stood still, his mind raging with conflicting emotions. "Does it," the crackling voice almost caressed the words, "does it make you angry to think of Owen Lars and what he did to you, boy?"
"Yes," Luke said as his mind snarled, plunging into the white hot fury he had felt on the shuttle "it does." Luke barely managed to remain still, only the knowledge of the two towering guards at his side keeping his feet on the floor.
"Good." The Emperor oozed satisfaction. "Lord Vader, you may train him. I will want to be updated on his progress. Take him out the private way."
And as Lord Vader swept down the stairs of the dais, the Emperor turned to face the last of the sunset, the fading red light looking like molten blood.
The Emperor watched as the darkness claimed his city, the lights of the buildings turning on one by one. He smiled, long and slow, thinking of the surprise his Dark Lord had brought him. 'A son,' his mind whispered, 'my Sith Lord has a son. And the rage of the boy. And his use of the Force. Why, he didn't even realize he was using it to find my hidden guards! And, with two of them at my side, I should finally gain full control of this entire galaxy in no time at all.'
The Emperor turned his throne around again, and motioned to the guards to let the petitioners in. He might as well see a few of them tonight. It would keep the rest of them hanging on the chance to see him, instead of taking matters into their own hands.
Luke's mind raced as he walked down the hall next to his father and he thought about all that had just happened. Why had the Emperor purposefully brought up his past? Was it to show that he knew about it? Shaking his head he wasn't sure, but he could still feel the anger the Emperor's words had evoked within him. He was sure about one thing though; namely that he didn't like the man.
"No," Vader said sharply as he turned to his son. "You shouldn't make judgments so fast when you don't know anything."
"I saw all I wanted to," Luke retorted, angry at having his thoughts read once more. Why couldn't his father stay out of his head for once?
"What Palpatine did and said in there was a test," Vader explained, watching as his son's anger grew.
"A test?" Luke inquired.
"Yes, to see if you were worth training or not. Not everyone has enough potential to be worth the time and effort it takes to train a Sith Lord," Vader stated.
"He tested my potential by making me angry?" Luke asked as curiosity fought for control within him. Despite what had just happened he still wanted to understand the world his father lived in.
"Anger is a key element in Sith training," Vader explained. "A Sith Lord gains his powers from the Force through anger and hate."
"What?" Luke asked as his anger vanished as he tried to wrap his mind around what he had just been told. He shook his head slightly when he couldn't. "But I wasn't angry on the Falcon and I still managed to stop the stun bolt from the training droid Ben had."
"Indeed," Vader said, remembering the memory he had seen in his son's mind. "However your anger and hate lets you gain more control over the Force and it allows you to do more. Were you aware that you were using the Force earlier?"
"What?" Luke exclaimed as his head came up, surprise written all over his features. "No. When?"
"When you were looking for the hidden guards in the throne room," Vader stated. "They didn't make any sound as you assumed they had when you managed to locate them, they are too well trained to do that. You located them using the Force, nothing less. Now think of what you'll be able to do when you're trained and know how to use your anger."
Luke's eyes twinkled at this. If what his father said was true then he'd be able to do more things then he had ever dreamed of doing. And he'd be able to be in control of what was happening to him instead of being... instead of like what had been on Tatooine.
"The Emperor also has the Force," Vader said softly and watched as the implications of this sunk into his boy. "That is not to be told to anyone however, not even Ravenell is to know that. Understood?"
"Yes, Father," Luke replied as he tried to remember if he had been thinking about anything he shouldn't have while waiting for the Emperor to acknowledge his presence. He winced slightly as he realized that he had set himself up by thinking of Tatooine.
"Indeed," Vader agreed. "Although Palpatine would probably have used that to test you anyway. There is much you don't know about Palpatine and it is better you behave when in his presence. Also, never underestimate him, you will regret it. I promise."
Luke nodded as he took in his father's advice. Looking at his son before continuing on his way, Vader thought. There was indeed a lot Luke didn't know about Palpatine, or for that matter everyone other than himself, but his boy would learn when the time was right. For Luke to learn Palpatine's true identity would be too much for him right now. As it was Vader could clearly sense that Luke was already being overwhelmed by all that had happened to him recently. But he hid it.
"Where are we going?" Luke asked after a few minutes of silence as he reached up to readjust the collar of the cape he was wearing. He had never worn a cape before and it felt funny to have something sweeping out behind him.
"Home," Vader said and smiled at the small, involuntary chills, that ran up Skywalker's back at the word and its implications. "My castle is not far from the Palace here."
"Ca... castle?" Luke peeped. He hadn't really given any thought to what kind of place his father lived in, but he supposed he should have been able to guess. Still. It gave him a strange sensation to think about the fact that he would be living in a castle from now on.
"Indeed," Vader said as he headed down another hall, towards where a secret door gave access to an underground turbolift that led to his castle. It was one of the many secret doors and passages that literally crisscrossed the Imperial Palace.
"Why are we using all the back corridors?" Luke asked as his father stopped next to a beautifully decorated mirror. Looking into it he did a double take as he saw his own reflection. He had been too nervous to really look at himself in the mirror while in the medical bay, but now that he did, Luke smiled. It felt funny to see his blonde hair stand out the way it did against the dark colors of his clothes. Reaching up Luke touched the jeweled pin at his neck.
"It is too dangerous to have you wandering around the other halls and the members of the court at this point," Vader stated, opening the secret door as he watched Luke regard himself in the mirror. "Politics and power are a deadly game and you need to know what is going on before either the Emperor or myself will allow you to get involved in it."
Luke nodded his head at this, swallowing as he wondered whether he actually wanted to get involved in the 'game.' Looking for a distraction he examined the door that had appeared out of the wall at his father's touch. Moving forward at Vader's signal he descended a few stairs and got into the small turbolift at the bottom.
Vader smiled as he closed the door before following Luke. He knew that in time Luke would be more than a little interested in what was going on in the Palace. Although at times Vader disliked all that happened, he was unable not to be drawn into other aspects of it. It was intriguing at times.
A few minutes later the turbolift stopped and Luke got out. Ascending the stairs behind his father, he stepped out into a beautiful entrance hall. Looking around he saw a few marble pillars lining the walls and a massive set of doors at the end of it. At the other end was a large marble staircase. Before the pillars stood various, exotic plants and doors led to other rooms.
"Where are we?" Luke asked as he turned to watch Vader close the section of the wall they had come through so that it became invisible.
"Home," Vader stated and smiled as he saw Luke's mouth drop slightly. "You don't like it?"
"No! I... I just," Luke began. "Never thought..."
"My Lord," a voice from the other side of the hallway said.
"Mark," Vader said as he stepped away from the pillar by which they stood. "Is the room ready?"
"Yes, my Lord," Mark said as his eyes drifted to Luke. "Skywalker?"
"Yes," Vader confirmed. "You will obey and serve him as you do me."
"As you wish, Master," Mark replied, his eyes widening slightly. "Dinner will be ready shortly."
Vader nodded his head at this, dismissing the servant before starting up the stairs.
"Who is he?" Luke asked as he followed his father.
"A servant," Vader stated, frowning at the disgust he felt in his son at this. "You disapprove?"
"It... it's just that I've always been taught that... that its... improper," Luke chose his words carefully, not wanting to anger his father. Looking at Vader, he saw his father nod his head. Glad that he wasn't going to say anything, he looked around instead. There were tapestries on the walls in the corridor. They had taken a left at the top of the stairs and were now heading for the door at the end of the hall.
"Your bedroom," Vader said as the door opened.
Luke stepped inside and was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the room he now found himself in. At one end was a large window that overlooked a huge body of water. Stepping closer to the window, he saw that the water ended on a strip of sand and dunes which was accessed from the castle through a garden. Luke didn't have to be told that the garden probably circled the castle and was larger on the sides where there was no water.
As he turned around, he saw the huge bed which was covered with silk and satin sheets. Stepping up to it he was delighted to feel the softness of the sheets and the mattress beneath his fingers. Back on Tatooine he'd had an old, hard mattress and the bunks on the shuttle hadn't exactly been soft either. Next to the bed was a small table with a alarm-chrono. There were a few shelves and wooden drawers which were elaborately decorated. On those drawers were art objects from several different cultures. On the wall above the bed was another gorgeous tapestry and there was a desk near the window.
"You like it?" Vader questioned.
"Yes!" Luke exclaimed as he whirled around, still slightly giddy with the knowledge that this was his bedroom. Walking to a built in closet he opened the doors only to find it empty.
"Tomorrow I'll have the tailors come by to get your size and to get you some good clothes," Vader said. "Think about what you want for fabrics, colors, styles, jewels, and anything else."
"I... I... don't really know anything about it," Luke replied as he shuffled his feet, slightly embarrassed and astounded at the same time. Jewels on his clothes?! "I've only had farmer's clothes. Anything is fine as long as it's not white."
Vader nodded his head at this as he watched Luke look around his room further. He'd simply have to see to getting some good clothes to start with until the boy knew what he wanted. It was probably wise not to let him chose until he got a hang of the Court and so forth. Luke's earlier fascination with what he was now wearing proved that.
"There is one more secret that you are not to tell to anyone else," Vader said, instantly getting Luke's full attention. Seeing his son nod, he reached up and turned off his respirator.
"What are you doing?" Luke asked, slightly alarmed as the rhythmic sound stopped.
"Showing you what only Palpatine and my servants here know," Vader stated as he pulled his gloves off to reveal strong, healthy hands. Then he reached up and took off the helmet, handing it to Luke who stood rooted to the spot, watching in slightly horrified fascination. Carefully Vader released the clasps that held the mask in place and pulled it free, revealing his face.
Luke gasped when the mask came free. His mind had been trying to imagine what he would see when the mask gave way. Whether he would see any of his own features there, to see just what he had inherited from his father. But he had also been thinking of what injuries he would see on that face. After all the mask and respirator had to be there for a reason. But...
Nothing.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with his father as far as he could see. Instead of looking into a scared and injured face, Luke found himself looking into a pair of ice-blue eyes that his were an exact replica of. Vader's head was covered by light brown hair that might have been blonde with enough sunlight.
"You... there's nothing wrong with you!" Luke gasped, shocked. But even through his shock something nagged at him. There was something about his father's face that he recognized, but not from his own reflection. From somewhere else, but he wasn't sure from where.
"Indeed. But it was not always so," Vader informed Luke. "When I last dueled Kenobi before the Death Star incident, I slipped and fell into a pit of cooling lava."
Luke winced visibly at this as he tried to imagine what that had felt like. "How did you survive?"
"The Force kept me alive until Palpatine got me out of there," Vader explained, something he had never before done as there had been nobody who needed to know. But he knew that it was better to be as honest as he could with Luke from the beginning as it would only hurt their relationship later on if he wasn't. "After that, I did need a respirator and body armor as Palpatine and I went through the slow process of healing me with the Force."
"With the Force?" Luke repeated softly as he looked down at the ebony helmet he held. "But then why the mask and armor now?"
"Fear," Vader stated. "With the armor and mask I inspired fear into people and it, along with a name change, gave me no background. People didn't have a clue as to who I was and they tend to fear the unknown."
"Name change," Luke said. "That's what you mentioned earlier on the Death Star, right?"
"Yes," Vader confirmed.
Luke nodded his head at this. He had a thousand questions, but he couldn't ask any of them. Things were all happening too fast and he needed time to slow down and think about it all. The corners of Vader's mouth lifted at this. The boy was practical.
"I'm going to change and then I'll see you for dinner," Vader said as he took the helmet from his son and left the room.
As soon as the door closed, Luke lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. So much was happening, he needed to process it all. He lay there for quite awhile before he heard a polite knock. Luke turned to see the man named Mark from earlier at the door. "Master?" Mark said, "I've come to show you to dinner."
"Uh, thanks." Luke got up and walked towards him. Luke felt funny about someone calling him 'master,' but he figured there was no use fighting it.
"Sir, let me help you with your cape." Luke stopped, and the servant came up and removed the cape and jeweled pin. He draped the fabric over a chair on his way out, and Luke followed.
After several turns down ornately decorated and tapestry cloaked corridors, they walked down a wide stairwell, and then they came to a large dining hall with a huge table. Mark walked right by it, turning into a room off to one side. Luke followed the servant into the room, which was considerably smaller than the hall behind but still quite large. An ornately carved wooden table graced the center of the room. Two matching chairs were set at the table, one of which a well-muscled man with light brown hair sat at, drinking wine from a crystal goblet. Luke started, realizing that it was his father sitting in the chair. He hadn't recognized him without the black armor and mask, the sight of his bare face was still a little bit of a shock. Lord Vader was wearing a loose yet form fitting shirt and slacks in a muddy red with soft black leather boots.
There were several other men lined up behind him and behind the empty chair. They were wearing simple uniforms in black and the same muddy red color. Luke supposed it was the house uniform, 'livery' he believed it was called.
Luke walked up to the other chair, and Mark held it while Luke sat, then scooted it in for him. Luke looked at his father who was staring at the far wall, deep in thought. Luke wanted to be able recognize him again so he studied his father's profile as one of the servants came forward and poured wine in his glass. He did look different without the mask, less sinister, if more dignified and commanding.
Luke had been thinking while waiting in his room, and he was really beginning to resent everything that had been taken from him. He had grown up in poverty, working long hours when he was supposed to be here. Luke dropped his eyes, and picked up the glass he had been given, giving it a small sip as he looked around.
More rich tapestries lined the walls, alternating with stone sculptures. A graceful crystal chandelier hung overhead, making the tableware glisten. Luke looked down at his place setting and grimaced. There was a frightening array of utensils and plates. A large, flat white plate was centered in front of him that appeared to be delicately hand-painted with bright enamels and gold. The utensils on each side of the plate were silver and gold and had inlaid crystals (probably gems) in the handles. He even had three glasses of cut crystal with gold trim. What was he to do with all of these?
"Start on the outside, and work your way in." The voice was a deep baritone, rich and full of inflection. Luke looked up, to see his father still looking at the wall.
Luke sighed a little, but then risked a reply. "I wish you weren't in my head all the time."
The man- his father- glanced at him, and a small smile tugged at his mouth. "I'm not, not all the time. You project, through the Force. You are unbelievably easy to read, like an open datacard." He paused. Luke stared at his plate. "It's because of your strength, and the fact that you are untrained." Another pause, and Vader was staring at his glass. "Kenobi must have been shielding you for years. But why he put up with-" The Sith Lord stopped, and Luke could see the hatred in his eyes, even if they were looking at the wine. Luke suddenly realized that the muddy red of his father's clothes was the color of dried blood, and that he could look sinister without his armor and mask.
Luke looked down at his plate, angry and ashamed. Couldn't they talk about something else? Just for dinner?
Vader took another drink of his wine. Luke lifted his head and squared his shoulders, preparing to ask the questions he had thought of while waiting in his room.
"What do you want me to call you?" Vader turned, looking at him. "I mean, what do I call you in front of people? And who knows about-" Luke stopped, waiting for an answer.
Vader turned to a servant, and motioned. One man disappeared, and then returned with two steaming bowls which he placed in front of first Vader then Luke. The fragile looking porcelain bowl matched the delicate hand-painted plate beneath and contained a clear broth with noodles. Luke watched his father pick up the outermost spoon and he copied him, tentatively sipping at the soup.
"It would be best," Vader said between casual mouthfuls, "that you refer to me as Lord Vader in any situation where we are not assured of absolute privacy. For now, that will include the Imperial Palace and its private corridors. When your powers grow, you will be able to tell if you are in a secure location." Vader took another spoonful. "I will have you trained in etiquette, so you can know what to do. But here, in private, you may call me what you will." Vader spared Luke a conspiratorial glance, "After all, I doubt the servants have missed the family resemblance."
A ripple of surprise behind the two revealed that the servants had guessed, but they had not known. Darth Vader smothered another smile. He hadn't had time to inform his staff of Luke's relationship to him, he had just sent word that a 'Luke Skywalker' was moving in, and to prepare the largest bedroom overlooking the sea.
Vader leaned back, and the soup was cleared. A salad of exotic greens followed while he and his son talked. Glasses were refilled and the dishes were presented and cleared as Darth Vader let his son ask questions while he answered. He had already found out everything about his son there was to know from the mind probe, but Luke had a million things to sort in his head. And the questions Luke asked about his new life were as revealing as any questions Vader might have asked the young man.
As the dinner wore on, the Sith Lord purposefully kept his mood serious, but open. He deliberately fostered the impression that he was a steady platform on which Luke could anchor his changing life. It was his intention, and the Emperor approved, that he should not lie to the boy about himself or his character but still do what he could to encourage Luke's loyalties. He would do what he could to make Luke trust him, and someone whose moods changed as quick as lightning would just remind Luke of Owen Lars.
It worked amazingly well and by dessert, Luke had lost most of his nervousness and was throwing off his last nagging fears. Darth Vader didn't mind his son's trust, but he filed the information away for future reference. His son would have to learn to be more careful, he was entering a world of hidden dangers.
Luke suddenly yawned mid sentence, rubbing his forehead. Luke abruptly realized that he was very tired. "It's been a long day," Vader said, "you should probably go to bed now. We can talk more in the morning."
Luke nodded, and rose to his feet. Luke bowed his head in Vader's direction. "Goodnight, Father."
"Goodnight, Son." Vader watched him go and then used the Force to follow Luke's progress to his new room. He privately admitted that he was growing attached to the boy, even if Luke had a long way to go. Besides, training him in the Force would be a welcome break from the long grind of war. He had been increasingly tired and disillusioned with the string of never ending battles that had brought the Empire no closer to a final solution with the Rebellion.
Vader realized with a start that he had not thought about the destruction of the Death Star all evening. Nor had he started working on the inevitable pile of paperwork or reading the reports from around the Empire that he always had waiting whenever he had a free moment. He sighed, getting up from the table. One of the servants still stood against one wall.
"Tell Mark I'll be in my study." Vader announced without facing the man standing in the corner. The Sith Lord walked out.
Luke awoke slowly to find himself wrapped in warmth and softness. Opening his eyes, it took him a moment to remember where he was. As it came to him he smiled before he turned his head to look at the chrono. Seeing the time, he started into a sitting position. He had never slept this late before in his life! On Tatooine he'd always needed to get up early to help with the farm work and it was a habit that had persisted even on the shuttle.
The feel of the sheets under his hands and the softness of the mattress made him reluctant to get up. 'Besides,' some part of his brain whispered. 'If you needed to get up you'd have been wakened.' Sighing with pleasure, he dropped back down and simply looked at his new room once more. He had looked at the art pieces earlier but had been unable to place them. He'd have to ask his father or one of the servants from where they all were.
Upon seeing the sun through the drapes, Luke decided that he might as well get up now that he was awake anyway. Pushing the sheets back he got to his feet and walked over to the window. Quickly he pushed the drapes back and looked out onto the sea. His father had probably given him this room because of its view, knowing that he had never seen more water in one place than what a small barrel held.
"Lovely isn't it?" Vader questioned as he entered the room. He smiled as he saw Luke jump.
"Yeah," Luke replied as he turned around to face his father.
"That was the first body of water I saw myself," Vader stated as he gestured towards the sea. "I saw it when I first flew over Coruscant."
"The first body of water you saw?" Luke inquired. "Where did you live before you came to Coruscant?"
"Tatooine," Vader stated simply.
"You lived on Tatooine as well?" Luke asked in surprise.
"Yes," Vader confirmed. "I need to go to the Palace now. Due to the Death Star's destruction there are some things that need to be handled."
"The Death Star's been destroyed?" Luke asked, wondering what could possibly have destroyed the station.
"Yes," Vader replied. "We can talk about it later. For now Mark has your breakfast downstairs for whenever you're ready, I've already eaten as I need to go and I didn't want to wake you. Also, the tailor will come later this afternoon."
"Okay," Luke said before Vader left the room. He was just about to move to the closet when an idea crossed his mind. Turning around he headed towards the second door in his room. Entering the bathroom he looked around.
There was a full length mirror on one wall next to a sink and toilet. On the other side was a huge marble bathtub. Walking over to it Luke wondered why he hadn't checked yesterday whether it was sonic or water. Curiously he turned the knob. To his delight water began pouring into the tub. Letting it run over his hand he suddenly wanted nothing more than to take a bath. So far he had always used a sonic shower, never anything with real water as it was far to expensive to waste it on washing when a sonic shower worked just as well.
Deciding breakfast could wait, he quickly got his clothes from yesterday before stripping and stepping into the now full tub. Feeling the water touch his skin he felt small shivers run down his spine. It felt wonderful and luxurious to have the warm water engulf him.
Luke wiped his mouth on the soft napkin lying next to his plate and smiled as one of the servants took the empty plate from before him. He had been relieved to see that breakfast didn't consist of half the dishes dinner had needed. Rising, he decided to go outside and look at the gardens.
"Master," Mark called as Luke was just about to leave the room.
"Yes?" Luke asked nervously as he turned around. He supposed that in time he would grow used to the servants, but as to right now it still made him uneasy. To have someone wait on you... to do anything you asked of him... it didn't seem right.
"There was a message for you from Lieutenant Ravenell earlier," Mark said as he reached Luke. "He wishes to see you later on today."
"Okay," Luke replied as he wondered what Garret wanted.
"Shall I show him to where you are when he arrives, or do you wish to see him in one of the receiving rooms?" Mark inquired as Luke turned to leave.
"Uh..." Luke began as he wondered what Mark meant with 'receiving room.' "Show him to where I am. I'm going outside right now so that's where I'll probably be."
"Very well, Master."
Luke sighed as he walked through the garden. Upon exiting the castle via the grand entrance he had seen that there was a paved road lined with trees for speeders which led to a high wall which he figured surrounded the gardens. Upon first glance it seemed to be an ordinary wall, but from what his father had said Luke knew that there was probably more to it than that.
He had started wandering down one of the many cobbled paths that meandered into the gardens. Luke felt a strange kind of peace as he walked among the trees and flowers. From time to time there was a stone or metal bench which was always near one art object or other. The art outside seemed to be of a different style then that that was inside, more... relaxing.
At first Luke had stopped at every other tree or flowering planet, feeling the need to touch or smell it. These were the first big plants he had ever seen. Turning a bend in the path, he found himself at the side of a small stream. Looking at it he quickly became aware of the soft babbling sound it made as it rushed over its stone bed.
Luke smiled as he pulled his cape a little tighter around himself. That was the one thing he missed; the warmth of Tatooine. Despite the fact that he was wearing dark colors and that the sun was out, he felt cold. He was so used to the oppressive heat of Tatooine's twin balls of fire that the warmth of Coruscant's sun was faint in comparison. Briefly he wondered how long it had taken his father to grow accustomed to the temperature here.
That thought brought up another series of questions. Why had his father lived on Tatooine? How old had he been when he had left? What had he done there? Who had he lived with? Shaking his head he put the questions away for a later time. When he had some time alone with his father he'd inquire about it, and about the rest of his father's past. After all, Vader knew everything that had happened to him and he hardly knew anything about his father's life.
"Luke?" a voice called out.
"Over here, Garret," Luke replied as he seated himself on the stone bench on the other side of the path from the river.
"Hey," Garret said as he saw Luke. "I've got to talk to you about something."
"What?" Luke asked as he saw the slightly worried expression on the lieutenant's face.
"Well... I'll be straight with you," Garret said as he seated himself next to Luke. "After you mentioned Darklighter on the shuttle, I decided to look him up once we got here. To see if I could contact him for you."
"And?" Luke asked as he unconsciously held his breath. Would Biggs still be with the Navy? Or had he jumped ship like they had sometimes talked about back on Tatooine?
"He... deserted while on leave on one of the planets his Star Destroyer was stopping at," Garret said as he watched Luke. He knew that it would probably be hard for Luke to accept the fact the he and his best friend were now on opposite sides of the Galactic Civil War.
Luke bit his lower lip and looked away from Garret to the stream rushing past on the other side of the path. So Biggs had gone ahead and made their fantasies reality. What would Biggs say when he heard that his best friend was living with the Empire's Sith Lord? Would he return? Would he contact him? For Luke definitely had no way to contact Biggs, unless he sent a message to Biggs' parents and hoped that they could pass it on to him.
"When did he... go?" Luke asked, unable to use the term desert as it would label his friend a traitor.
"Two weeks ago," Garret replied, noticing the words Luke used. Hopefully Skywalker could get over his friend fast as having a friend with the Rebels would be a weakness and he doubted that Vader would allow that. Nor the Emperor and from what he had seen and heard so far, Luke would be with the Emperor often, or at least more often then most people.
"Thank you," Luke said softly. "Thank you for telling me."
"Your welcome," Garret replied as he looked at his chrono. He needed to go soon, but he wanted to be sure Skywalker was all right first. "So anything special happening soon?"
"Well the tailor is coming later on today," Luke responded automatically, his mind still on Biggs.
"Good," Garret said as he got to his feet. "Then you can get some fitting clothes. Look, I have to go, but I'll see you later."
"Bye," Luke said as he watched Garret go. "Thanks."
"Welcome."
Vincent Van Kallen, Master Tailor, sighed a gusty sigh, hiding the satisfaction, and yes- elation, that he had felt ever since he had received the holo-message last night. He raked a hand through his wispy whitened hair and glanced over his thin nose at his three companions as the private speeder raced towards Lord Vader's Castle. His daughter, Bailey, was dressed as neat as could be, not a speck of dust anywhere. She was plain, but had a very good eye for colors. Tr'revon, her bond-mate and Van Kallen's head assistant sat beside her, his eyes showing both the nervousness and pride that Vincent felt. Fl'ann, the Bothan, was just plan nervous. His snout kept wiggling in fear, his hair was plastered to his sides, and his eyes looked a little glassy.
Not that Vincent blamed him. It was a bit of a risk to bring him, even though he was the least of all of his assistants, but non-humans held a very precarious position right now, and many of them were leaving the planet. Regardless of the number of years of loyal service many non-humans may have had, with the dissolving of the Imperial Senate many had received death-threats. Therefore, bringing a non-human to the residence of one of the highest individuals in the entire Empire could be seen as an insult.
Vincent just hoped that Lord Vader would not take offense at him bringing him along, but Fl'ann was very perceptive of his clients wants. The Bothan could sometimes figure out what the clients really desired, not just what they said they wanted. And that was the trick. Ever since he had received word that he was summoned for a full consultation at Lord Vader's Castle, Van Kallen had realized that the success of this particular job would hinge on determining what exactly Lord Vader really wanted.
Van Kallen knew that it couldn't be for Lord Vader himself. The Sith Lord never changed clothes. He always wore the same helmet, mask, and black armor. He was a tailor's nightmare, and Vincent knew that the Dark Lord wasn't about to change. So the consultation was for someone else. A woman perhaps? Had some pretty off-world thing finally caught the Dark One's eye? Vincent shuddered, thinking of someone being held in that cold mechanical embrace.
The speeder slowed and stopped, and the four got out. Van Kallen let his sky blue cape flare out behind him, as his three assistants lined up behind him, the Bothan bringing up the rear. A servant came forward, in black and dark blue livery, and Van Kallen informed the man that he would need six people to carry his equipment. "I did not bring more than the absolute minimum in staff. I was told not to, for security reasons."
"Of course." The man replied. "I am head of security here. If you please follow me, we can have you scanned, and your equipment shall be searched and delivered to the receiving room that was chosen." Vincent followed the nondescript man as twelve men appeared from nowhere and loaded the fabric samples and other equipment onto repulsor carts.
Some time later, after feeling like he had just been peeled apart because of the thoroughness of the scan and search of his clothes, Van Kallen and his three assistants were led into a large room. The furnishings were pretty standard for the higher Imperial families: crystal chandeliers, rich tapestries, fine art, beautiful furnishings, thick hand woven rugs. In retrospect, Vincent wasn't too surprised. Lord Vader was rarely here, he probably hadn't developed many personal touches to his living space.
What was surprising was the boy sitting in the center of the room. He was the only one sitting, and one of the servants was serving him a steaming cup of tea on a silver platter, so Van Kallen guessed that this was the reason he had been summoned. He even had about half a dozen guards, dressed in livery with the addition of blasters and comlinks in one ear, standing around behind him. The boy- no, he was actually a young man- was very tan, and as Vincent got closer, he could see that the clothes he was wearing were obviously 'off the rack' and only casually fit him.
"Master Luke." Van Kallen's escort said, "The tailor is here." The young man looked over, obviously curious. Vincent was floored. The servant had just practically announced that this young man, whoever he was, had been given almost the same level of power in this household as Lord Vader himself. If he had been just a guest, the servant would have called him 'sir'. Who was he?
"Oh. Hello." The young man looked at them, silently glancing at each in turn. His eyes paused on Fl'ann, narrowing. Vincent held his breath, hoping that the man wouldn't throw a fit and have the Bothan removed. But the young man just looked away suddenly, and took a sip of his tea. He then put the tea down, and turned in his chair to face the party.
Van Kallen almost sighed, and took another step closer. Some of his clients liked him to take the initiative, maybe this was one of them. "Well Sir, if you'll just stand over here, we can get started." The young man stood, and Vincent led him over to a clear space in the room. "First," the tailor announced, "we'll measure you. Then I'll have to ask a few questions on your planned activities." Vincent paused, as he noticed the entire room get tense. He clamped his mouth shut, cursing his stupidity. Of course whatever this man would be doing would be secret, he should have guessed. "Just very general questions," he reassured, speaking to the young man but meaning for the security forces to hear him, "just to determine what kind of clothing you need."
The young man glanced at one of the servants, who nodded. "Sure." The young man replied, and Vincent noted the exchange, wondering at it.
"Then," Van Kallen continued, "we will discuss what clothing you need and I will suggest some styles. Look at colors, fabrics, that sort of thing." The man nodded, and Vincent turned to his assistants. "Tape." He said, in his best 'master tailor' voice.
His three assistants fell into a satisfying flurry of activity. Fl'ann turned to the pile of their equipment that had been brought in, and retrieved a medium wooden box. He opened it, and Bailey reached in to retrieve both a tape measure and a datacard. She then gave the tape to her father and the datacard to her husband Tr'revon. She then stepped back while Fl'ann held the open box in his hands.
Vincent then proceeded to take the tape measure and measure all the relevant lengths on the young man. He quickly noticed that the man had absolutely no clue as to what he was doing, but was perfectly willing to follow directions and stand still. It reminded Van Kallen of measuring a small child. The intense blue eyes of the man watched everything as Vincent pulled the tape from one place to another and called the results to Tr'revon, who noted them on his datacard.
Vincent calmly went about his business as he began to realize some fairly alarming things. When Bailey brought him the fitting gloves - plain white gloves in many sizes to determine the best cut for the young man, he almost winced at the condition of the man's nails. And the hands themselves were quite callused. Combined with the muscles evident under the young man's shirt, Vincent began to realize that he was probably looking at a common laborer. But what would Lord Vader want with such a man? Boy really, those intense eyes held such innocence.
Strange to think of innocence here, in the Dark Lord's lair. Van Kallen gave the boy a glance as he removed the fitting boot, rattling off the size for Tr'revon to write it down. The young man was looking across the room, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The young man suddenly stood, and slightly bowed. "Lord Vader." He said.
Vincent turned his head, and scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply. The Dark Lord himself was slowly walking across the room, tread muffled on the thick rug while his respirator faintly hissed. "Well?" The brass voice rumbled.
"We, we just finished with the measurements, my Lord," Vincent stammered. He had forgotten how tall and menacing the cloaked form was. He shivered as the respirator hissed again. "We, ah, I'll need to ask about any restrictions on styles for the young man, and then we can discuss what exactly you wish for me to provide."
"Mark has a copy of my instructions. You may discuss them with him. Mark, I will be in my study when you come to the final selections." With that, the armored man turned and strode from the room, his ebony cape flaring behind him.
Van Kallen turned, and one of the servants came forward, holding out a datacard. Vincent took it, and began to read. "Nothing too restraining, prefers conservative not flamboyant, dark colors, no white. No white?"
"None." Vincent looked down and the young man who was sitting again, pulling on his own boot. "No white, ever." Vincent could practically hear the 'ever again.' Vincent quickly dropped to his knees to help the man, then returned to the list.
"Day-clothes, court apparel, humm..." Vincent read on down the list. His eyes stopped, he read the entry again. "Ahh, Mark... When Lord Vader says 'clothes fit for dining with the Emperor' what does he mean?"
"What he says."
"Which meal? Dinner, lunch, supper, breakfast?" Van Kallen felt a little shiver, the instructions couldn't mean exactly what they said. It must mean clothes of that level, not necessarily that this man would be eating with the Emperor.
"I don't know. I would provide for all of them, but I will ask Lord Vader." The man looked serious, yet calm. Vincent shuddered again. It was hard to imagine anyone who dealt with the dark lord on a daily basis.
Vincent finished the list and gave it to Tr'revon, who quickly scanned it himself while Bailey and Fl'ann busied themselves with pulling out and setting up the fabric samples and sketches. Vincent watched, offering a word or two, but they were both well trained. Vincent noticed that the Bothan was very careful to appear to follow Bailey's lead, even if he could do this particular step unaided.
He made his presentation then, talking of textures and weaves, capes and cloaks, suites and styles. His assistants Bailey and Fl'ann carefully parading the samples and sketches past the audience while Tr'revon took notes of responses. Mark, the head servant, seemed to take over by offering suggestions. Luke, the young man, only said a few words, such as "I'm not wearing that much lace" or "I don't know if I can move in that". The only time he perked up was when Van Kallen showed some sketches of some of his more military style outfits with crisp lines and gem studded highlights.
When they narrowed the field down to a reasonable number of patterns and styles, the servant Mark whispered in another servant's ear. The second man promptly left, and then returned with the Sith Lord. Vincent felt his mouth go dry, swallowing hard, he pushed on with the selection. It didn't take long, the Dark Lord seemed to know exactly what he wanted.
They were on which gems to use for highlights on the final outfit, a black cloaked ensemble, trying to decide between bloodstones or fire-eyes. The cloak called for some jeweled edging, while the shirt had large stones set on the cuffs and collar. The whole thing was completed with a heavily patterned vest. Vincent was almost surprised that the discussion was even taking place- most people opted for the cheaper bloodstones. Even the Imperial elite would balk at the cost this particular style of fabric mounting- the shear quantity of stones needed in the vest pattern would be almost excessive.
Bailey came up behind him and whispered, rather loudly, "Father, what about Riggilean water-stones?" Vincent found himself thinking about it. He had originally wanted to do this pattern with that gem- but it was even more expensive than the fire-eyes. "Father," she whispered, "they will match his eyes."
Heads turned to the suddenly shy young man. Lord Vader's respirator hissed. "They will, won't they? Use the water-stones."
Vincent nodded, then cleared his throat. "Of course, Lord Vader. Ah- Sire." This was the tricky part, but Vincent Van Kallen wasn't a master tailor to the Imperial Elite without some sense of life's realities. Every house, even the Emperor's, would have limits to what it could spend.
"Yes?"
"What is the young gentleman's budget?" Normally, he might hem and haw, but Lord Vader seemed to be very up front about everything.
"Mark."
"Yes, my Lord. We determined last night that the initial investment for Master Luke's wardrobe should be around two million the first year, taking into account that we will be using the majority of our own gems from stores. We will, of course, reclaim the gems as fashions change."
Vincent was almost floored, but not quite. Several of the ladies of court had budgets that large- and Lord Vader could hardly spend less. And, the servant was right- gems were taken off old clothes and reused on new. He glanced at the young man, wondering what his reaction would be. The boy was very still, face a little pale.
"Thank you, Lord Vader." Vincent said, "I will, of course, provide a through itemized receipt of my expenses."
"Of course." The mechanical growl was almost amused, as if the Dark Lord thought it was funny that anyone would even suggest cheating him. "And Tailor Van Kallen, I want it all in a week."
"My Lord!" Vincent was aghast, there was absolutely no way his shop could produce all had been selected in a week. "I have other orders, I can't possibly-"
"They can wait." The voice was velvet steel.
"Sire- I would normally think of hiring extra help, but, but, your security could be threatened." Vincent was desperately trying to explain, panic entering his voice, "I had not planned on using anyone who had not been with my team for at least several years. I have standards to maintain, I-"
"No excuses." Vincent felt as if the black death-mask was staring at his soul. Vincent Van Kallen steeled himself, preparing for the worst.
"My Lord. I know that I can not produce what you ask in one week. But, but- I will have everything made as soon as possible, and I will have it sent over as soon as each ensemble is done. You will receive some of the clothing by tomorrow morning, but some of it will take more time."
The black mask seemed to loom closer without the Dark Lord moving a muscle. The silence stretched out, and then the tension evaporated. "Very well. Mark, make the arrangement from stores. Van Kallen, you are dismissed." With that, the Dark Lord turned and walked from the room, his cape silently fluttering behind him. Van Kallen watched as the young man silently got up and followed.
It had taken precious time before Lord Vader's security had released them, refusing to let them leave until everything had been scanned and searched again. Vincent Van Kallen was in a flurry of activity when they finally got back in the speeder to head back to the shop. He was talking to the holo-projection of his head of production, while he gave commands to his equally stressed assistants.
"Of course I'm serious! I know that every tailor in town is dumping their non-human staff, and we have a rush order here! I want you to grab the best to take care of our standing orders, we'll transfer our permanent staff to this job- that will keep up our security." Van Kallen looked over at Bailey, "I trust you dear, pick the colors that will go best with his complexion, and try to take into account that he'll loose most of that tan."
Vincent turned back to the projection, "And expect a call from Lord Vader's Castle, they will be transferring the needed gems this evening. And tell everyone they aren't going home tonight, I had to promise something by morning-"
The speeder rushed through Coruscant traffic, the bright day oblivious to the pained expression of one master tailor.