Luke awoke abruptly. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the room. It was unfamiliar to him, but that didn't mean much. Most of the galaxy still was. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever learn to recognize half the cultures in only a portion of the galaxy. This one seemed fairly homey, the walls a pale orange, and most of the accents in various shades of blue and green. The bed Luke sat on was very comfortable, and he couldn't help being tempted to lie back down go to drift off once again. But it wasn't where he'd fallen asleep, and that concerned him.

He moved to the side of the bed, and saw that his over shirt had been folded and placed on the bedside table. He picked it up and put it on, more out of habit than anything else, as he was already pretty warm. He then moved to take his lightsaber from where he always placed it back home, but it wasn't there.

He started to stand up, needing to find it, already uncomfortable. The previous day was coming back to him now. Darth Vader had shot him down, and followed him to the ground, chasing him through the strangely beautiful forest, which had turned out to be quite violent itself, taking chunks out of all exposed flesh, which had, to Luke's consternation, included his arms and the lower half of his legs after he'd rolled up his pant legs trying to stay cool, and eventually simply torn them off just above the knees, as they had been shredded by the local flora and fauna.

The last thing he remembered was tiring, from the oppressive heat and humidity and the running, and climbing up a tall blue flower, looking for somewhere to sleep. It had seemed like a good idea to get away from ground level, to evade both his father and the small rancors he had started spotting in the distance.

A strange being entered the room, pulling Luke's consciousness back to the situation at hand. It was short, considerably shorter than Luke, and seemed immeasurably aged. It carried Luke's lightsaber in one hand, but didn't seem to be in any condition to use it. Uncertain, Luke bent to see it better. It gazed back at him with red eyes that seemed intelligent, but not remotely threatening. They looked at one another for a moment before it blinked slowly.

"Hello," Luke said, trying to be polite, "May I have my lightsaber back, please?"

It slowly moved to oblige him. Luke took the saber in his hand and gave it a quick shake, to make sure it hadn't been tampered with. Nothing within made any movement, so Luke placed it on his belt.

"Thank you," he said, then, deciding it best to get whatever information he could out of the old being, "Have you seen Darth Vader?" he asked, "He's about this tall," he straightened up and held a hand over his head, "And he wears black robes and a mask."

The little being smiled at him, as though confused, "Anakin brought you to us."

Luke started. That was the last answer he'd been expecting, although if he'd been to make a list of potential answers, this one would only have snuck on as a sarcastic joke, "Anakin?" he asked.

"Your father," the creature answered him.

"Yes," Luke said after a pause, "He is. He brought me here?"

"He cared for your wounds as well," the little creature answered, and Luke had a nagging feeling that it didn't think him very bright.

"Is he still here?"

"He is in the fields. He seemed to think he would alarm you," the person said, "Why would you be afraid of your own father?"

"It's a long story," Luke said.

"He asked me to show you the back door, if you were."

Luke shook his head, "No. If he brought me here, maybe I shouldn't be so frightened of him."

The old creature merely sniffed, and led Luke through the strange little building, giving Luke a rare opportunity to understand what it would be like to need to duck under doors. As they reached a door that opened onto even greater heat, it waved him onwards, and went back inside. Slowly, nervously, Luke continued. As he stepped out, and was able to straighten up, he stretched properly and looked around. Despite last night's encounters with the trees, the ground, the air, and everything in between, the dawn's warmth still felt comfortable and welcoming. The air was just beginning to be tinted with shades of peach which reflected slightly off of all the plants.

He scanned quickly for his father and, failing to spot him, leapt up onto the house. He landed with a clang, and looked around again. At last, he saw his father out in a distant field, and watched in amazement as approximately half of the plants lifted from the ground as one, and were flung into the bush. He hopped down from where he'd stood and carefully picked his way through the fields until he reached the imposing black form.

"He-," he started, but he was instantly silenced at a wave of his father's hand, and he watched as a large and disturbingly predatory-looking bird flew overhead. Once it had flown away, the end of his word came out, sounding somewhat dead, "llo."

Vader turned to him, having remained still as the bird passed, "You chose not to run. Good."

"Good morning to you as well," Luke answered without venom. Vader seemed not to want to hurt him, his presence almost welcoming. At least as welcoming as Luke could force himself to imagine the man being, considering his fearsome reputation.

"Come," Vader instructed, and Luke followed him silently. His father led him back to the farm and up a tall ridge, sitting down at last, atop one of the massive orange mushrooms that Luke had discovered the hard way gave nasty puffs of dust when sliced, and were not even remotely edible, according to his datapad.

He sat in silence beside his father, waiting for the other man to speak. Vader didn't open conversation, however, and so Luke turned his attention to the sunrise. He watched it in silence for a few moments before being startled by a small furry creature at his elbow. He reached out in the Force and determined, to his grateful surprise, that it was not as carnivorous as the other animals he'd encountered.

He held out a hand to it, inviting it to come to him, "You're a furry little guy. Don't you get hot here?"

It bounced up onto his lap, licking his hand in what could have easily been either affection, or proof that Luke had misread its intentions. He froze for a moment, waiting to see if it would bite him, but it simply nuzzled him again, and he petted it. As the fur slipped between his fingers, Luke glanced over at his father's gloved hands before looking up at his masked face, suddenly aware of a slight breeze against his own.

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked his father.

Vader turned to him, "I miss many things. Which are you inquiring after?"

"Feeling things," Luke answered, running his hand through the creature's fur again.

One of Vader's hands reached out, and performed the exact same motion to the back of Luke's head before pulling back as its owner gazed at it in apparent dismay, as though it had never occurred to him. Then, completely at odds with his body language, Vader sighed, "Constantly."

"Oh," Luke said, "I'm sorry."

Vader shook his helmeted head, "You have nothing to apologize for."

Luke waited for his father to continue, but still Vader was silent. Luke continued to pet his small friend, and looked up at the sunrise again. It seemed to have gone on far longer than it should have, and Luke was forced to remind himself that not all planets took the same time to rotate as Tatooine.

As the sun rose, so did the level of noise in the jungle, "Is it safe for us to be out here still?" he asked nervously.

"You're safe as long as you stay close by," Vader answered before lapsing back into silence.

"It's beautiful here, don't you think?" Luke asked, not wanting his father to retreat into his shell again.

Vader didn't acknowledge his words, and Luke was turning back to the sunrise when his father spoke, "What colour is it?"

"Colour?" Luke asked, "What's colour?"

"The sunrise," Vader answered, and Luke didn't think that it was his imagination that his father's voice sounded wistful.

"Kind of pink. And orange," Luke answered, "Can't you see it?"

Vader shook his head, "My vision is red."

"Red?" Luke asked, letting the creature he had been holding go, "Why? Does it have to do with being a Sith?"

"In a way. It's the lenses of my mask," Vader told him, "My knowledge of your appearance, the colour of your hair, your eyes, is gained from descriptions I've heard from others."

Luke stared at his father, and then out at the brightly coloured world, "That must be awful. I-I could tell you what colours this world is, if you want."

Vader nodded slowly, and Luke indicated the mushroom they were sitting on, "This is orange, I guess that's pretty much the colour you see it as. A lot of the planet is, I guess. The ground is pretty orange, and so are most of the mushrooms, though I saw a couple of blue ones yesterday. The huge flowers," he gestured to one of them, "Are blue as well. Sort of green too, I guess. Um…" he wasn't sure how to continue to describe the planet. His words seemed only to mock Vader's inability to see the colours, not an aid so that he could imagine them.

"You have seen colours before, right?" Luke asked.

"Of course," Vader answered. "I used to love watching the sunrise with your mother, and try to match shades of the sky to items in her apartment."

"What colours was Mom?" Luke asked, hoping to set his father on the track of describing his mother without directly asking, afraid that a straightforward question would set his father on guard once again.

Vader paused a moment, "She was brown, and a light blue, and her skin tone followed her surroundings. I couldn't tell you how many times she was the closest match to tones in the sky."

Luke tried to tell himself that that was enough, but he asked anyway, "Why was she those colours? Do I have her eyes?"

"Your eyes are mine," Vader told his son, "Your mother's eyes and hair were brown. The blue was the feeling she gave me. It wasn't an unhappy blue, but calm and gentle, just like she was."

Luke found himself nodding hopefully, wanting more information. Vader's helmet turned to him, and he sensed a smile, "I could show you an image, if you like."

"Yes!" Luke said eagerly.

Vader produced a small, metal platform, which he activated and a slightly blue-tinted image of a woman rose from it. Vader put it down in front of his son, and keyed something, causing the model to grow to what Luke assumed to be full sized. Luke stood up, and found himself to be just slightly taller than the hologram. He gazed into the face, and saw everything he had realized could not be described.

"She's beautiful," he told his father.

"She was," Vader answered sadly, and the hologram turned off, and was returned to a pouch on his belt. Luke sat down again, feeling slightly more comfortable, and sitting closer to his father than he had the first time.

"You really miss her, don't you?"

Vader sighed, "She was everything to me," he answered, "She was good, and light, and love combined. To say that I miss her is to imply that I've accepted that she's gone. My only consolation is that I have you."

Luke looked up sharply, "Are you going to imprison me?"

"No," Vader answered gently, "Your life is your own, Luke. I have spent mine as a slave, and I will do everything in my power to keep you from my fate."

"Fate," Luke muttered, turning the word about in his mind. He had never been particularly inclined to believe in anything as absolute as predetermination, but from his father's use of the word, this seemed to be another of their many differences, "I guess anyone who accepts fate would have to believe that they're a slave to it, wouldn't they?"

"That's not what I meant," Vader answered, but there was a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"Then what did you mean?" Luke asked.

"I have been raised in servitude," Vader answered slowly, "My life was built on the understanding that I would serve one master or another until I died."

Luke frowned, "I wish I could think you were lying," he said at last.

Vader shook his head, "Don't dwell on it, son. I brought you here to speak about you, not me."

"There's not much to tell," Luke said, taking his over shirt back off, and dropping it untidily on the mushroom behind him. It was strange, he realized, all his life he had wanted his father, to tell him everything, each comment that upset him, and the origin of each scar on his body, but now that his father was sitting beside him, there was nothing to say. Not one occasion was important enough to be more important than this occasion, the moment in which he sat on a giant fungus in a still greater jungle beside the man most feared in the galaxy.

"I think I can tell you something about you," Vader said after a moment's pause, as though he'd been waiting for Luke to continue, "It's a miracle you've lived long enough to meet me."

Luke laughed, "Yeah, I guess it is, what with the Tusken, and then the garbage masher, and then the Battle of Yavin," he started ticking the events off on his fingers, "And then there's Han's cooking, and the Falcon, and-,"

"Not to mention the rancor," Vader said.

Luke turned to him in surprise, "You weren't there for that, how did you know?"

"The second rancor, then," Vader said, and Luke was certain he heard laughter in the older man's voice.

"What're you talking about?" Luke demanded, "I've only really seen one rancor. And then those baby ones in the forest last night, I guess, but I didn't get close to them."

"People don't see much when they're asleep," Vader said, "And you're lucky you didn't slide any further into that flower you were sleeping in."

"I was attacked by a rancor?" Luke demanded, "And you didn't wake me? And why should I be glad I didn't slip any further into the flower? It seemed nice enough."

"You catch more bees with honey than vinegar," Vader answered, "That flower was carnivorous, and, yes, you were attacked by a rancor. When I found you it was just bending over you looking at you as though you might make a nice snack."

"And you didn't wake me?"

"I saw no reason to disturb you, you were sleeping so peacefully," Vader teased, "You looked just like a little wingless fairy boy, curled up in your flower bed."

Luke felt himself blush, "Thanks," he answered awkwardly, "For saving me, I mean. How did you know to bring me back here? And why did the person who lives here know you as Anakin?"

"I helped these people many years ago," Vader answered, "Before you were born. Good people have long memories for good deeds done for them. I had only to remind them of some of the self-defence I taught them, and they were more than happy to give you a place to rest."

Luke looked down at the little village, from which others of the strange creatures were beginning to emerge, some going to the fields, others to watch over smaller ones playing.

"I guess it makes sense that there would have to be somewhere you could return to as a hero," he said slowly, "It never really occurred to me."

"Each one I return to, I am rapidly demonized," Vader answered, "But they're so cut off from the rest of the galaxy, one of them asked me how my apprentice was. I suppose they don't know she's been gone almost two decades."

Luke flinched, "Your life sort of ended when mine began, didn't it?"

Vader nodded slowly, "In a way. Come now," he stood up, and Luke automatically followed him, "We must find a way for you to return home."

"I don't want to," Luke blurted, "Can I stay with you for a while longer? We could…" he cast about for a place to go, an action to undertake that wouldn't condemn the lives either of them had embarked on, "We could go to other places that know you as a hero, and we could help them like you helped here. If we go far enough, maybe we could say that you're still a Jedi, and that it's only a training mission. There must be somewhere that hasn't heard yet."

"Luke, what you are suggesting is to try to find a planet that has been out of touch with the galaxy since before you were born," Vader said gently, and Luke was afraid his father was about to turn him down completely, but as his shoulders started to sag, his father's tone lightened with a smile, "Shouldn't be too hard."