Good evening everyone :)


And here is part 6 of my this tale.  Things get rough and tough for young
Luke in this one... and Vader's fate is beginning to change orientation :)
I hope you'll like it :)

Previously: Luke has met a young girl by the name of Mara Jade, his assigned
concubine, who also happens to be an assassin for the Emperor... What is the
Emperor's plot?

Characters: Luke, VAder, the Emperor, Mara
Type: dark drama, family, action/adventure

Dear Son part 6: first mission

__________________
Disclaimers: None of those characters belong to me. See my
front page for more details. (http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/3702)
Note about the story's copyrights: All the rights related to the basic idea
of
Vader finding Luke as a child at his school, protecting him from any bad
things and the Emperor, as well as the Emperor's scheme concerning Luke
belong to
Jessica (MoonArtist7@aol.com). Thanks for your suggestion, my friend ; this
story wouldn't have come to be without it.
Also, special thanks to my shy, secret beta-reader and best friend,
Adrianne,
for her help with the final editing of my new stories. (Eh, I have no choice
but to mention you, my friend ; your secret is still safe though ;) Thanks
for
giving us some of your precious time, my friend :)
____________________

Five days later, he was alone, waiting for his target to show up.
Before proving that he could order soldiers around, he had to prove that he
was a good soldier himself. Given his particular training, his master had
ordered him to infiltrate and eradicate a drug organization.
All by himself, and he had to do it in one shot within five hours at most.
He had planned his test carefully, gathering as much information as he could
about his target, then he had tried out almost fifty scenarios in a computer
simulation before choosing the most efficient tactic.
It also happened to be the most dangerous of the lot...
From his hiding place on the mountain range, he had a clear view of the rail
road that was going to serve as his infiltration tool.
The drug dealers used high velocity, armored wagons to carry their drug to
their secret hideout. Given their astounding speed, no one could board them
unless they were immobile. Thus, they weren't guarded outside, only
inside... which was exactly what Luke needed. If he could stay hidden on the
upcoming wagon, he would be in the midst of their main base in an hour at
most.
He scanned the horizon once again.
Nothing.
He knew that a wagon was coming soon ; he could feel it, he only had to...
His Force senses began to tingle, warning him that someone was coming
closer.
He almost immediately spotted the glint in the distance.
There it was.
Now, he thought grimly, he had to calculate his jump perfectly or else he'd
regret it.
He closed his eyes, focused his mind on the Force and---
Now!
Even though the train wasn't under him yet, he jumped down from his perch---
but as he made his way down, the wagon swiftly moved closer and closer to
him.
Luke opened his eyes, ready to grab hold of the wagon's smooth surface.
The train began to zip past him ; he wasn't there yet.
For the briefest of moment, he feared that he would miss it, but he was
quickly proved wrong when he noticed the remaining centimeters between
himself and his target. He made sure that his Force cushion was in place
around himself ; if it weren't, he knew that he would make such a raucous
that he would get shot upon impact.
Suddenly, his hands hit the edge of the last wagon, painfully jarring him to
a halt. Thanks to his magnetic gloves, he didn't lose his grip, but he
barely managed to maintain his hold on the wagon.
The convoy continued its extremely fast progress ; no one had noticed his
arrival.
After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, the young teenager slowly
hitched himself up on the roof of the wagon, then proceeded to find the
hiding place that he had selected on his schematic.
He knew that it was between the first and second wagon.
Since he had to be careful to not let the strong winds buffet him about,
Luke had to exert all his strengths in each movement he made to crawl
forward on the vehicle.
Even though his gloves and knee pads were magnetized, the train's speed was
such that any slight bump was threatening to throw him completely off board.
As if it weren't enough, he also had to be extremely silent or else he would
betray his presence atop the wagons.
He was perhaps less than ten decimeters from his target when the wagons
suddenly swerved to the left, now heading toward a mountain range.
Luke scrabbled to retain his grip on the wagon, but too late.
Silently thanks to his Force shield, he completely slipped down the wagon's
side before he managed to stabilize his situation.
By the time he recovered his balance though, they had entered a rocky tunnel
that barely left him enough space to squeeze himself between the walls and
the steaming hot surface of the wagon.
He huddled as much as he could against the burning hot metal while slowly
moving sideways toward the small opening were he would hide until the wagon
would be left alone.
Unfortunately, the tunnel had been carved to allow the passage of wagons and
not much else. He zipped so fast past the rocky walls that whenever he
passed by an outcrop, it slashed at him with the sharpness of a blade.
He thus got very nasty cuts on his back, arms, legs and head until he could
reach his safe heaven.
And not to soon either.
He had barely reached the small nook between the first two wagons when the
first wagon reached the inner tunnel, which was made of steel and left no
room around the vehicle.
He hurried to clear his left arm, feeling a sudden warning of danger, but he
wasn't fast enough ; he didn't loose a limb, but he pinched his left
forearm's skin and muscles good. It hurt a lot.
Aware that he was approaching his destination, a few hundred meters away, he
fought past his sharp agony and hurried to squeeze himself in the space
between and under the two wagons, hanging on for dear life while the train
progressively slowed down, at last.
His injured arms, back and head complained against this new challenge, but
Luke didn't give in to their different signals.
He had to accomplish his mission.
Now that he was inside, he thought grimly, he couldn't let his wounds stop
him from killing the leader, nor from destroying the outlaws' secret lab.
He pouted his face as he reflected that explosives and weapons would have
been handy at the moment, but he hadn't been allowed to bring anything more
than the minimum of weapons.
He knew that the Emperor wanted to see just how good he was, and he himself
had to harden himself, he admitted. He was still too soft to successfully
command troops.
A burning pain ran down from his now badly swollen, almost paralyzed left
forearm, up his arm and into his brain.
He clenched his teeth yet again against a scream of pain.
He couldn't let go just yet, not yet...

The convoy finally halted completely near a station-like construction.
Luke refocused on his mission.
He reached out to assess his surroundings.
Six armed men per wagon had just begun to disembark, and ten more men were
coming up to help them.
Very bad odds, he evaluated ; he would have to wait until the wagons would
be deserted.
While he waited, safely hidden under the shadows of the train, he split his
time between holding the worst of his injuries at bay and scanning the base
to know its exact layout.
As yet another wave of physical torment cut through his focus, he wished for
his mission to be over already.
It was just too frustrating to be unable to use his healing skills without
risking to be caught unaware.
He was sure that there was a way to superficially heal himself with the
Force with a light trance, he would bet anything on that fact... but his
father hadn't taught him... probably because of the Emperor's orders, he
realized.
After all, he reminded himself, his master wanted him to fail.
Well, he resolved once again, he wouldn't give him that pleasure.

He patiently waited for the outlaws to unload and leave the wagons' area,
waited an extra ten minutes, then slowly edged out of his shadowy corner.
He had to get behind the packing crates at the end of hangar ; he knew that
he would find a ventilation grid there.
Careful to remain low and out of sight, he silently moved toward his goal,
hiding behind whatever was within reach whenever he felt a warning through
the Force.
He finally hid one last time, behind the crates that were stacked against
the far wall.
While being careful to remain hidden and undetectable, Luke reached out with
the Force and slowly, skillfully edged the crates away from the wall. He
strained his abilities to their limits ; droplets of sweat trickled down his
spine and forehead, but he didn't pay any attention to it.
He moved them as a whole, thus reducing the risk to make one fall from the
top of the stack.
Three minutes later, the space between the crates and the wall was wide
enough to allow him passage to his targeted ventilation grid.
He was tempted to take a moment to rest, but he remembered his tight
schedule so skipped that natural demand.
He wasn't that exhausted, he sternly admonished himself as he quickly
squeezed himself between the two 'walls', then, ignoring his different,
extremely sensitive injuries, slid toward the grating.
By the time he reached his destination, his back and burnt left side of his
face were once again afire thanks to his constant rubbing against the
crates, but he was a Jedi, he reminded himself. He could do this, and
succeed.
He whipped out one of his vibroblades.

Guiding himself with the Force, he walked on three in the air ducts,
favoring his left arm while being careful to not make a single sound when he
put a limb down.
First, the leader, he decided.
His inner sense brought him near the alien's presence.
When he arrived at destination, he became aware that the outlaw was enjoying
some quiet time with a few women.
Young Luke readied his two blasters, fighting past his half-paralyzed left
arm, then checked his surroundings one last time with the Force.
Three men to take down. No one was nearby.
He kicked the grating out of its hinges and immediately opened a heavy fire
on his targets.
Since his speed was enhanced by the Force, the enemy didn't have time to
react before his mark found them.
Several times.
Luke silently hopped down from his perch, cautiously made his way toward the
locked door, then shot it open.
Just like his guards hadn't have time to react, the burly alien didn't clear
its blaster from its holster fast enough to save its life.
The startled state of his victim surprised Luke, until he realized that the
room's soundproof quality had played against his target.
All the better, he smirked under his cowl.
It was a shame about the women though, he reflected sadly as he analyzed his
handy work.
But, he then reminded himself, they would have died anyway when he would
bomb that place to kingdom come.
Pulling himself out of his sorrow, he snapped his head around as he sensed
the approaching presence of several men.
'Time to leave.' he told himself as he silently sprinted down the opposite
corridor.
Once again, he called on the Force to guide him toward his second target,
the transformation lab where he would be able to trigger an unstoppable,
explosive chain reaction.

Since his killing the leader had put the base on alert, he constantly had to
hide from patrols, barely able to find a nook to hide in before the enemy
came into view of him.
He wasn't afraid of them though, but he knew that if he wanted to succeed,
he had to avoid confrontations until he was out of the base.
Otherwise, he shrugged inwardly, he'd be history.
He thus took all the time that he needed to reach the secret labs without
pinpointing his location to the wary outlaws.
On his way to the lab, he stopped by a weapon stash and 'borrowed' a few
things.

Twenty minutes later, he crouched in an alcove on a higher beam as he
studied his options.
Now that he had some bombs, he could really make a mess with all the
products that were gathered in the lab room under him.
The problem though, was how to give himself enough time to evacuate without
being trapped, and probably killed, by the explosion.
He carefully studied his options yet again while he cradled his injured arm
with his other one.
It seemed to help him alleviate his throbbing pain.
Dropping the explosives in the vats was out of question, he evaluated.
Killing every worker in the labs was also impossible.
Using the timer on the explosives would also be near suicidal since it
wouldn't give him a sufficient window.
Then what---
A call from the working table on his left attracted his attention.
One of the guards was berating a worker, or was it a slave?
The poor guy had accidentally mixed two liquids that when combined together
could replace any---
Hey, there was the idea he had been looking for! he realized happily.
He quickly scanned the room, and found the large containers, stacked side by
side.
He knew that they couldn't mix together even if they were side by side, but
at the same time, the outlaws weren't afraid to store them in a
two-compartment container.
All the liquids were kept that way, he then noticed.
Even more interesting...
While remaining out of sight, he hurried to jump down from his perch, then
slunk toward the containers.
Since the guards might pick him up against the backdrops if they turned
toward him, Luke sent tendrils of Force to make them totally uninterested to
check in their backs.
While he did that, he also worked on the separating plexiglass of a
container, slowly opening a small hole in it.
The heavier liquid almost immediately began to spill into the other
compartment.
Satisfied of the results, the young teenager one-handedly set a patch of
explosive at the extreme left of the slowly contaminated compartment, then
moved to the other group of chemical solutions.
He repeated his strategy with the two other containers, leaving a slightly
bigger hole in the last ones, then hurried to make his way out of the room.
He had five minutes maximum before all Hell broke loose, he reminded
himself.
Unfortunately for him, a squad of troops marched in just as he ran out the
back door.
While the men tried to sound the alarm, or to kill him, Luke swiftly
dispatched them with his vibroknives, slashing right and left with them.
While he purposefully ignored his lancing left arm, giving it all he had, he
didn't take the time to finish his enemies ; four seconds after he had been
uncovered, he was running wildly down corridors that were supposed to lead
him toward the closest exit.

They did, but since the alarm was now given anew, and that the alarm to
evacuate was blaring in every corner of the base, he found his way blocked
by patrols who didn't run for their lives. They never gave him too much
trouble though.
He had managed to reach ground level and was perhaps within fifty meters of
his exit route when he met yet again with such a group.
Luke deflected a blast with his good hand, then another and kicked the
attacker in the groin, then on the nose while he choked two other men with
the Force. Then, he switched his physical focus toward his two remaining
enemies who simultaneously fired at him.
He somersaulted, landed behind them and jumped again in the air. A split,
wide double kick caught them both in the face as they turned toward him.
They slumped to the ground, dazed.
Now that the way was clear, he turned tail and ran for all his worth.
The man that he had merely stunned was right on his heels.
Luke managed to distance him all the way to the closest landing bay, but he
unfortunately didn't loose him.
Thanks to the numerous obstacles that Luke had to avoid in the now deserted
hangar, he was once again back in the thug's firing range ; the outlaw didn'
t waste time and used him as target practice.
Luke felt that danger, but he felt an even greater danger when the Force
warned him that the base was about to explode.
The fools in the labs had decided to fire at the vats to keep the solutions
from mixing up.
He had but a few seconds left, at most.
The exit was right in front of him--- but because of his simultaneous,
strong warning about the explosion, he missed the outlaw's first shot.
It skewered his knee.
The agony of the injury made him fall, but he tucked his elbows, rolled with
the gravity's pull, then called on the Force and flipped back to his feet.
Five..., the Force seemed to count down for him.
Ignoring his body's numerous complaints, Luke poured every ounce of speed
into his muscles. He also shielded himself from the other's continuing
attack.
Three...
He had reached the hangar bay door, he was almost,...
Two... one...
He felt the explosion a split second before it actually happened, namely
when the outlaws fired at the containers that were right under his chosen
hangar.
Luke threw himself down then covered his head with both his good and bad
arm, rolling with the burning hot blast.
His pursuer was thrown out of the base, propelled by heavy debris that
crushed him upon impact.
Once this first explosion was done, the teenager hurried to put some more
distance between himself and the doomed base.
He knew that secondary explosions would soon follow.
He ran despite his torturing injury, using the Force as a support.
He had perhaps made it a good twenty-five meters away from the base when the
ground around him shook, then large patches of ground went up in the air.
Before he could react to this new chain reaction, a similar explosion
happened nearby him, throwing all kinds of debris in the air, himself
included.
He rolled with the blast once again, then tried to direct his landing. It
proved to be a bad move...
A rather large splinter of metal came flying his way, and since he wasn't
shielding himself at the moment, it buried itself in his flesh.
Luke couldn't help but scream in torment as the jagged piece of metal
perpendicularly buried itself in his right thigh.
He crashed down on the ground.
The agony was such that he almost, almost forgot to shield himself from the
falls-out.
The explosions went on around him and in the distance.
He didn't move from his spot, unable to gather the strength to fight past
his pain.
Either by luck, or because it was the will of the Force, his chosen patch of
ground didn't explode like the rest of the underground base did.

When calm returned to the mountain range, young Luke Vader knew that it was
time to leave.
The problem though was that he couldn't move even his eyelids.
His back, arms and legs were suffused with hot, sulfurous pain.
In fact, he relented, he could barely restrain his tears.
How was he going to return to his ship, he whined inwardly. He couldn't get
up, let alone walk all the way to the other side of the mountain's range...
For the briefest of moment, he considered giving up and calling his father
for help, no matter what the consequences were, then he remembered the
Emperor's leer.
No, he resolved, he wasn't beaten yet.
While remaining in his laying position, he called on the Force and projected
it toward his ship.
Since he wasn't searching for a living being, it took him some time to
locate his ship in the Force, but once he did, he activated it and 'flew' it
toward himself.
The modified Tie Fighter finally hovered above him, which left Luke with
only one last challenge: how to climb in it.
Usually, it was a matter of two seconds, but with his wounded legs, and no
way to move his right one, let alone fold it, it was out of question to
clamber all over the ship.
Instead, he left the ship to its own device for a few minutes while he
levitated himself up and into the cockpit.
Sitting in his seat also proved to be a torment thanks to his splinter that
went from just above the back of his knee and all the way to the front top
of his thigh.
His sole consolation was that the flight toward orbit and his father's
waiting ship was painless, at least as far as his right arm was concerned.

******

The moment Luke's Tie fighter appeared on their scope, Lord Vader headed for
the landing bay to help his son.
He could feel his pain, his exhaustion ; he knew that he would falter the
moment the ship would settle down on the deck.
The Emperor's test finished there, and so would his son's strength for a
while.
He had tried to follow his progress from a distance, but the Emperor had
instead kept him busy with demands of reports to be delivered before the end
of his son's mission.
Thus, he could 'see' the results of the mission, but he had no idea about
its specifics.
The modified Tie Fighter settled down in its berth, then its hatch popped
open.
The fact that Luke used the Force to pull himself out of the opening
surprised him.
Without wasting time, and ignoring the looks that his troops gave him, he
climbed on the ship to help his son extricate himself from the cockpit.
"Easy, let me help you." he gently admonished his son.
Luke didn't complain, didn't even acknowledge his words. Instead, he
abandoned himself to his strength and help.
The grimace his son made when he pulled him to a sitting position on the
ship almost broke Vader's heart. The boy was trying to not cry in front of
the troops, but he was in agony. He had seen tortured prisoners make that
face often enough to know how to interpret such an expression.
"I can clear the hangar if you prefer, Son." he offered him in a
conspiratorial voice.
Luke clenched his teeth against what would probably have been a scream, then
firmly shook his head.
"No," he whispered, "I can't give the impression that I'm weak, Father."
Even though his son was covering his voice, Vader could tell just how much
torture he was undergoing at the moment.
"Well, then," he decided as he scooped him up in his arms, "let's get you to
the medcenter under their very noses."
Luke couldn't protest, but he didn't hold himself too tightly around his
neck.
*You sure that's a good idea?* he asked weakly.
*It doesn't really matter,* Vader sent him through the Force. *None of them
would have come back with injuries like those.*
Especially his son's right leg, he added to himself as he got a good look at
the extent of the damage. He could feel the shard's tip against his arm.
*You'll earn their respect whether I carry you or not.* he informed his son.
His exhausted boy relented and let him carry him without anymore complaints.

The moment they entered the medcenter, medics brought his son in a private
room, but before he could follow them inside, his comlink went off.
He took a moment to answer it.
"Yes." he rumbled unhappily, thus warning whoever had dared call him that he
had better have a very good reason to disturb him upon his son's return.
"My Lord, the Emperor demands that you make contact with him." Admiral Ozzel
explained contritely.
The Emperor.
This couldn't be good.
"Establish the contact. I will speak with him in my private rooms." he
ordered his subordinate.
As he shut off his comlink, he threw a quick glance in his son's direction.
He knew that the medics would take good care of him. They would first remove
that splint that was buried in his leg, then dip him in the bacta for a few
hours.
He could leave him alone with them without having to worry.
He reached his quarters in record time and waited for the Emperor's holo to
tower over him.

Perhaps per design, perhaps because he had met with a courtesan while
waiting for his call, Vader waited a long twenty-three minutes before his
master spoke with him.
"Where is your son?" the ruler demanded without preamble, apparently upset
to not see him at his side.
"He is in the medcenter, Master. He has been hurt rather seriously during
his mission, but he has fulfilled it as you have asked." he reassured him.
"How bad is his injury?" the Emperor inquired.
His master sudden interest in the extent of his son's wounds puzzled him.
Normally, the Emperor only cared about the end, not the means.
He answered him nonetheless.
"His right thigh has been pierced by debris, his left knee cap, shot, and he
bears different cuts and burns on the rest of his body."
The Emperor remained silent, glaring at him from under his cowl.
"I want to make sure that I understand, Vader." he finally hissed. "You have
entrusted him to the medcenter for cuts and burns?" he snarled angrily.
And ruptured tissues, Vader wanted to defy, but if he wanted to keep his son
with himself, he had to bite down on that kind of comment.
So instead, he nodded contritely.
"If you continuously pamper him, Lord Vader," the Emperor warned seriously,
"he will never be able to serve me."
Vader frowned at that.
"Master?"
"Once his injuries are cleaned and bandaged, you will order the medics to
not treat him any further. He will return to your quarters, by himself," he
specified warningly, "then heal himself with the Force. I want his report in
two days."
Two days?, Vader silently gasped in disbelief.
Luke wouldn't be up for anymore tests in two days!! His legs' muscles and
tendons had been too injured during the mission.
"Is there something wrong, Lord Vader." the evil ruler queried surly.
Vader forced himself to relax and let go of his anger.
Being angry at the Emperor would only take Luke away from him, he reminded
himself.
"No, Master. It shall be as you wish." He took a deep breath, then forced
his words past his lips. "Luke will report to you for his next test in two
days."
"Good." the despot smiled sickly. "That will be all for now." he said, then
cut the transmission.
Vader was incensed.
The moment all the communication devices were turned off, he pulled his
lightsaber from his belt and hurled it with all his strength at the farthest
wall.
Would he ever leave his son alone??, he yelled mentally. Would Luke
continuously suffer until he would win?
He hadn't found his son just to give him an even worse life than the one he
had had on Tatooine, he raved at an unseen audience, perhaps his far away
master, but perhaps the Force.
He called his lightsaber back to his hand and was preparing to throw it
again when the sound of an opening door attracted his attention.
He belatedly realized that Mara Jade had felt a disturbance and was coming
out of the inner quarters to check it out.
"Is something wrong, my Lord?" she asked seriously.
He shut down his lightsaber and fastened it back to his belt.
"Stay out of this, Jade." he growled, then whirled away from the Emperor's
agent.
He had to transmit the Emperor's orders to the medcenter.
He dimly wondered if his son would ever forgive him for obeying this one.

******

The medics had finished to prepare his thigh for the local operation and
were getting ready to extricate the jagged, long shard from his flesh when
his father came back.
Luke almost instantly felt his dark, unhappy mood.
*What is it?* he inquired worriedly.
His father sighed, then rested his hand on his shoulder.
*Take all the rest you can get, Luke. The Emperor wants you to heal yourself
once they will have cleaned your injuries.*
Luke immediately understood what it meant.
He was going to bear the pain of his injuries for a while longer.
*Well, not for that long.* his father amended reluctantly. *He's giving you
two days to recover and report to him.*
Now Luke truly gaped in disbelief at his father.
*Two days??? But---*
*It takes you five days to heal normal injuries, I know. I guess he wants
you to improve your skills.* his father tried to reassure him.
Luke knew that his father didn't approve the Emperor's orders, but at the
same time, he could feel his resolve to abide by them.
He didn't want to loose him.
The medics began to work on his injured thigh ; even though he had been shot
with pain killers, he still felt a slight jolt of agony worm its way up his
spine and into his brain.
He bit down on his lip, suddenly feeling on the brink of tears.
No, he wouldn't cry in front of his future subordinates. He would be strong
until he could cry in private.
He clutched the mattress with all his strength as the pain slightly
increased.
His father rested his hand on his shoulder once again, then stroked his
cheek to dry a tear that had escaped his control.
*Luke, I'm sorry.* his father sent warmly.
The young teenager nodded shortly, now totally focused on not crying out
loud when even the drug that he had been shot with couldn't keep away his
astounding pain.

Upon seeing that, his father whirled toward the medics.
"Give him another shot." he ordered the medics, aware that his son was in
too much pain at the moment.
When the medics didn't react to his order, he asked. "Do I need to repeat
myself?"
"I'm sorry, my Lord, but we have received orders from the Emperor himself to
give him only 500 mg." the head medic apologized. "He has specifically
warned us not to try and circumvent his orders, no matter what."
Luke groaned in both pain and frustration as he realized that the Emperor
wanted him to suffer.
Then, all of a sudden, the Emperor's plan was clear as daylight.
The old man wanted him to give up, to be so fed up with being in pain and
annoyance that he would relent and 'surrender' to him.
He gazed up at his father ; he noticed his stiff stance.
*It will never end until he's won, will it?* he asked his father.
*It 'will' end, Son.* his father promised him. *We will make it end and 'he'
will give up.*
Luke nodded shortly in agreement, then clenched his teeth again as the
medics began to pull the jagged piece of metal out of his now enlarged
wound.
Somewhere between the first and the last third of the long shard, his body
gave up and he passed out.

******

When he recovered his senses, he was alone with his father and he was
dressed in medcenter's pajamas.
He noticed that his visible cuts had been bandaged.
"It's up to you now, Son." his father informed him, getting up from his
seat. "The infection has been neutralized," he then explained. "the wounds,
cleaned and bandaged."
"How long have I been out?" he queried tiredly.
"Ten hours." his father answered him.
"Ten hours!" Luke exclaimed, sitting up in shock.
He almost instantly fell back on his pillow, gasping in pain as his
different wounds complained against his move.
Vader shook his head.
"Take it easy, Luke. You obviously needed the sleep since we couldn't rouse
you, even with adrenaline."
That fact surprised him, but he didn't argue against it.
So his father had tried to wake him up, but hadn't been able to.
"Okay," he relented, "but I'm rested now so I better start my healing
trance."
"Actually," Vader interrupted sadly, offering him his help to sit up once
more.
"You first have to return to our quarters before you can initiate it."
Luke was flabbergasted.
Return to their quarters? And if he had to do so, it probably meant---
"let me guess." he queried resignedly. "No help allowed, right?"
"I'm afraid not." his father slightly shook his head.
Well, the boy sighed. The sooner he got on his way, the faster he would
reach his bed.
He slowly uncovered himself, then carefully let his legs dangle from the
bed's edge.

Vader winced every time that his son winced, sharing his pain even though he
couldn't really feel it.
He could feel the echoes of it, but not the specifics.
His son did though.
He felt him wrap Force-braces around his wounded thigh and knee, then
gingerly put his weight on his feet.
If not for the bed, he would have fallen down to the floor.
It took him all his strength of will to not go to his help, but the Emperor
had been very explicit.
Luke had to do it on his own.
As if it would harden him, he sneered.
It would only harden his resolve to not give in.
His son called on the Force once again, this time to support his weight off
his injured limbs.
With the help of his Force-crutches, he slowly shuffled away from the bed,
then toward the door.
Vader followed him, wishing that he could help him to even suppress his
pain.

Twice on his way to the strangely far away quarters, young Luke almost
crumpled to the deck when the pain became so acute that it cut through his
concentration.
But he was stronger than that, he reminded himself. He would not 'fold' over
himself and let the Emperor win.
Beside him, his father was walking slowly, careful to remain at his side, as
if itching to help him, but strictly holding himself off.
Around the two of them, the troops tried to only watch him from the corner
of their eyes, but it was quite difficult to resist the sight of his beaten
body struggling forward with each step.
He fought twice as hard to not let his tears of agony escape his control.
Once in his own room though, he let them go.
His father gently pulled him back to a sitting position and held him close
until he had spent all his sorrow.
Luke knew that he was between a rock and a hard place.
Either he was going to continue to defy the Emperor, and most likely get
hurt, or else he would just give himself up and 'bow' to the Emperor.
But he was not a slave,  and he respected himself much more than to just
give into the Emperor, he sternly reminded himself.
And then, there was Jade to consider.
He still hadn't figured out what her role in his plan was, but one thing was
sure: the Emperor was attacking him from all fronts.
He was tired, so tired...
He cried anew, this time in despair.
His father held him silently, conveying his comfort through his strong hold
and warm presence.
Finally, his tears dried out.
"Are you ready to get to work?" his father queried softly.
Work being his healing trance.
Luke slightly pushed away from his father, dried his eyes, then nodded.
"Yes, now I am."
"I'll check on you in 38 hours." his father informed him as he stood to his
feet.
Luke nodded, then comfortably laid back on his bed. He closed his eyes,
slowed his breath, then finally entered his much deserved healing trance.
His father left him alone.

******

On Coruscant, the Emperor smiled to himself.
At last, the boy had entered his trance.
It meant that he was vulnerable to anything that would enter his mind during
that time, his barriers being completely down to allow the full power of the
Force to heal him.
He would make good use of that opening, he cackled inwardly.
He had a few things to plant in the boy's mind.
First of all, he had to test the strength of his resolve.
*You know that you wouldn't hurt if you would just give in.* he taunted the
boy's naive spirit. *I wouldn't hurt you, I promise.*
*No.  I don't believe you.* the youth answered almost instantly although he
was unaware of his answer.
*You never know,* he taunted yet again, *You might even prefer to be in my
favors than in your father's, young Jedi.*
The boy answered him by pulling away from their subconscious contact.
Well, the direct approach was definitely out of question, he evaluated
seriously, but no matter, he then shrugged.
He had a few dozen ideas as to how he would make the boy surrender to him.
He implanted a strong suggestion that it was useless to fight against him,
that he would loose in the end, and he indeed would, he cackled lustfully.
He planted similar thoughts in the young man's mind until he were sure that
he would crack upon wakening, added more thoughts of defeat for good
measure, then left him alone for the last five hours of his trance.
How he would enjoy his report, he smiled greedily.

TBC soon

Well, liked it?  Let me know please :)

SJ