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Everything was silent in the palace. Even the few guards awake for their shift had sleep in the corner of their minds, hidden under the red helmets. The whole place was suspended in timeless lethargy, a bridge between worlds where the frontier parting dreams and conscious life thinned out.

Vader hadn't moved since the Emperor had left him. He stood there, staring at the stars, the dark shape of a phantom vigil. His wheezing breath reverberated in the silence, giving rhythm and shape to the trickling seconds.

But he didn't see the stars in the faraway sky. The only images dancing in front of his eyes were of his son's face.

Every moment he had spent with him was flashing in his mind like a moving tapestry. Luke smiling, his eyes glinting in challenge; Luke frowning, snapping at him when they disagreed; Luke tentatively asking him about his past in concern; Luke screaming, crying, exhausted and defiant...

He was going to die.

The numbness that had been his companion for eighteen years before he met his son seemed to be returning, to his relief. Too many emotions had upset his damaged chest since then, fresh and painful like a reopened wound. He wanted nothing more than to rest again.

So many things had been put into perspective. So many questions answered, but just as many raised. He had never understood this strange interest he had taken in the boy before. Had it been the Force talking to him, had he confusedly felt their relationship, even in his ignorance?

Now that he stopped to think about it, the boy was his own striking image, softened by the delicacy of his mother's features... How many times had he been troubled by the righteous fire in his eyes when something mattered to him, by his reckless smirk? How much had he tried to squash remembrances of the past as he heard his Tatooine accent? He had smiled at his passion when he talked about ships and flying. He had loved teaching him, showing him what he knew of the Force, witnessing his triumph when he learnt something new.

But he could never do so again.

Luke was going to die. All his thoughts came back to crush against this terrible reality, like a black hole swallowing every light.

He hadn't even told him about their relationship. He had let the chance for that pass him by, too taken in his pain and in his denial. Luke was going to die without even knowing whose son he was, thinking he'd be joining his Jedi father in the Force. And Vader would be left behind, cold and alone, mourning for the second time the child he once thought dead...

He looked at the time again. Another five hours left. Time was running, slipping through his fingers. He felt suffocated, trapped, as if he was the sentenced prisoner rather than his son.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, fighting the wave of helpless anger that was toppling him. What had he done to deserve this misfortune? Did the Force take such pleasure in his pain, that it insisted on ripping all of his loved ones from him, one by one? Hadn't he suffered enough?

He couldn't lose Luke. Not him too, not again. He had just rediscovered what it meant to care about someone. He couldn't bear to see his bright light snuffed out, to feel him disappear forever.

His fists clenched once more, helpless and devastated. Cracks appeared in the transparisteel, physical signs of his distress, manifestations of his wordless cry. It was unfair, he screamed at the universe. Why did you give me back my son, if he was meant to perish all along?

He had done everything to avoid getting attached. He had tried to keep his distance for as long as he could. But still the Force had thwarted his every attempt, had watched gleefully as his heart softened, then administered the last blow as soon as he thought he had finally found belonging...

And now he was haunted by everything he hadn't known, everything he could have done, before the ruthless machine of destiny had come into action. If only he had foreseen the danger threatening him... He would have protected him, sent him far away from those who wished him harm, made sure he could never be found.

For a moment, he let himself fantasise, the sweet dreams overcoming his dreadful reality for too short a time. He wished he could take Luke out of his cell, bring him to the hangar bay and give him a ship. He would explain to him why he needed to go, why he needed to hide from everybody. He would at last tell him the truth of who he was, of how much he was loved...

And then it dawned on him.

He could still do that.

The realisation hit him like a speeder at full throttle. He had access to the cells. He knew where Luke was held. Even if he didn't, finding him would be easy, with their connection through the Force. He had access to the hangars, even possessed a personal shuttle. Furthermore, it was the middle of the night. Most people were asleep; Luke would be far away before anyone realised what had happened...

He staggered forward, had to lean against the still crackling window. His head was spinning, intoxicated by the sudden lightness that had overcome him. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a veil off his eyes.

He could save him.

Just as that thought occurred to him, he remembered the Emperor's warnings, a dark counterpoint to his newly born hope. He will betray you again. He will use this softness you hold for him. And he hesitated, now knowing it was true. The boy had far too much power over him. By saving him, he could be spelling his own doom.

And his master wouldn't be pleased. Vader recoiled, thinking of Palpatine's disappointed face, of his wrinkles contorting in a harsh and judging expression. He knew there would be consequences if he chose to act, possibly permanent ones. He had never gone against his orders so outwardly before... his bond with his master would suffer, and he grieved for it in advance.

But he found he didn't care as much as he once did. It seemed to him he was thinking clearly for the first time. These dangers seemed so inconsequential, next to this miracle, this fabulous possibility opening in front of him.

Betrayals and secrets, concealments and lies... they were nothing, in the end. Not if Luke lived.

But he only had a few hours left. He had to act quickly. His heart full of a renewed purpose, he strode in direction of the detention area.

As he had thought, the few guards still awake all let him through without so much as a question. His presence struck such fear and respect into their men, nobody even dared wondering what he was doing. He was the face of the Empire, and its fist.

His heart was beating in giddy excitement when he pressed the opening button of Luke's cell. His son was lying on his back, not unlike that terrible day when he had interrogated him, and Vader repressed a shiver at the memory. His eyes were closed, but Vader knew he was not sleeping. At the sound of the door, he looked at him and sat up.

"Come," Vader gestured at him.

Luke took a deep breath, glanced around him, swallowed. Then he hauled himself up to come to a standing position and walked forward. His steps were much slower than Vader would have liked. His hands were trembling, and he was looking straight in front of him. With a pang in his chest, Vader realised he was expecting to be taken to his execution.

"Do not fear," he said. He searched for the right words to explain, but found none. The room had to be monitored: he couldn't state his purpose clearly.

Luke raised his eyebrows and threw him a defiant glare, but remained stubbornly silent. Vader gave up and grasped his forearm. Their time was running out.

He half marched him, half dragged him through the silent corridors, nearly running in his haste. He wouldn't be at peace until Luke was safely away from the planet.

But the young man was having trouble following him. He was hanging behind, his breath wheezing, too focused on putting one step in front of the other to think of protesting. Vader stopped for a second, guilt clutching his heart. He didn't want him to die of exhaustion before he could even escape.

Gently, he passed an arm around his waist, using his other hand to grasp his wrist and bring his arm around his shoulder, and took his weight on him. Luke tensed, resisted as much as he could, but he couldn't hold on for long before he leant on him, unable to repress something like relief. Taking care not to unsettle him too much, Vader resumed their hurried walk.

As they went, he took the occasion to look at him. He was still in terrible shape, his skin white and glistening with sweat, even for this small amount of exercise. His breath was tightly controlled, and Vader could feel the pain and tiredness every step brought him. He regretted they couldn't afford the time to give him some medical treatment, even if it was just something to relieve his pain. Still, there was something exhilarating to having him so close, feeling his weight and warmth on him, the light of his mind so near. It was invaluable proof that he was alive, soon to be free.

Luke tensed again when he recognised the hangar. They took a few steps in the deserted space. Vader brought him in front of his personal ship, then released him. Luke took a shaky step away from him, looked at his surroundings, before throwing him a puzzled look.

"This shuttle wasn't conceived for long-range voyages, but it is capable of it," Vader said.

Luke gaped. His eyes widened, and he turned towards the shuttle, putting a hand on the hull as realisation dawned on him. He faced Vader again, uncertainty in his eyes, a faint stirring of hope he didn't quite dare trust.

"You're..." he swallowed, licked his dry and cracked lips. "You're letting me go?"

"Yes."

Luke stared at him for another instant, searching his gaze for a trick, some sign he was lying. Then he looked at the vessel again, and let out a disbelieving laugh. He ran his fingers along the metal, exploring its surface with awe and wonder, as if it was the first time in his life he saw an actual spaceship.

Vader couldn't tear his eyes away from him. He drank in the sight of him, his lean and tired frame, his every gesture.

He was his son. He was alive.

Luke's hand stilled, and he looked down, didn't quite turn towards him.

"Why?"

Vader heard the multiple questions in the single word, and found he had no answer. Explanations collided and merged in his mind, too insincere, too much like excuses.

He took a step forward. Luke whirled on himself, suddenly tense and on alert, like a cornered eopie that had spotted a predator. Vader stopped dead, as surprised by his son's reaction as Luke seemed to be by his movement. He sent his peaceful intentions to him, then slowly took a second step, and put a hand on his shoulder. Luke was frozen, petrified.

His chest bursting with a thousand emotions, he took a moment to truly watch his son at last. His eyes roamed over his features, his wide blue eyes, his small nose, the cleft in his chin, his sharp cheekbones. Still unable to speak, he opened their bond, let the strength of his affection for this boy finally flood through between them.

This was it. There would be no better occasion to tell him of the earth-shattering truth that had thrown his world upside-down.

"Luke..."

He didn't have time to think of any further words. A warning blared in the Force, overcoming his senses. He stepped back, looked around, trying to determine the source of the disturbance.

Their time was up.

"Go," he said, pushing Luke towards the shuttle. The alarm had been given; in a few minutes the hangar would be flooded, keeping his son grounded before recapturing him. He had to leave now.

Luke had felt it as well. With a last quick glance at him, he hurried up the ramp and closed it.

The engines warmed up, flared to life. Vader held his hand out and opened the hangar doors with the Force to let Luke through. Wind blew against his mask, twirling inside his cape as the shuttle slowly rose, then shot forward in the sky.

Stormtroopers ran into the hangar, hasty footsteps and barked orders resounding around him. But Vader didn't move. His mind was still focused on Luke, shielding his ship against the cannons of air security, guiding him through the dangers of the capital's atmosphere. Finally, Luke came through and the ship jumped to hyperspace, snapping the bond between them with reassuring finality.

Vader let his hand fall, staring into the rising sun.

.

To be continued...

Check the author's profile for the sequel, Black Squadron: Loyalties