Saga The Good Son

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This is an AU where Darth Vader finds Luke a lot earlier.
***
There were times when Darth Vader thought that Anakin Skywalker was not nearly as dead as he should be.
Of course, disposing of Skywalker was considerably difficult than killing anyone else, for the sole reason that Skywalker probably still lived somewhere inside his head. When he had slaughtered the younglings and pledged himself to Palpatine, he was certain that he had left that impulsive, whiny, weak persona behind. He became Darth Vader, a Sith Lord and the most feared person in the universe. The Hero Without Fear had perished with the rest of the Jedi.
But there were those rare moments when Vader did something decidedly un-Sith-Lord-like, something so incredibly impulsive and foolish that it could only be blamed on his old self, Skywalker.
Vader was a pragmatic, no-nonsense man who had the patience to meditate for hours on end and who usually thought things through. Skywalker, on the other hand, was an impulsive imbecile who would do the most nonsensical things to relieve his boredom, that usually lead to the most uncomfortable of situations.
Situations like being stranded on Tatooine, for instance.
He blamed this entirely on Skywalker. Vader had been reading through a pile of extremely dull reports- - -Senatorial meeting, blah, blah, resistance, blah, blah, Death Star schematics, yawn- - -when something had piqued his interest. Ironically, it was only a footnote on what was most likely the least important piece of information in that stack, saying only that a hermit that could do 'strange things' lived on Tatooine.
He absolutely hated the old dustball. It was where he had lived as a slave, where his mother had been killed by Tusken Raiders, and...basically where everything bad short of Mustafar happened. Odd that such a backwater planet would hold so many key events, but the point was, he hated it. So he should instead stay on this ship, the newly built Executor, and continue shifting through the pile of datapads.
...why the nine hells would I want to do that? This is boring.
The petulant, not-quite-there voice seemed entirely too sulky for something Vader would think, therefore he deduced that it was the remnants of Skywalker and tried to rationalize this decision, even as he ordered the navigator to set a course to the Outer Rim. He eventually came up with the idea that the hermit might be Force-sensitive, and therefore should be eliminated. It had nothing to do with the crushing boredom he felt or that annoying voice whining in the back of his mind. As for the reason he felt that he should go there alone, well, his crew was starting to annoy him with their incompetency and it wouldn't do to throttle them all. It was certainly not because he wanted to temporarily escape the responsibility of being a general or anything of the sort.
Once they were in the Outer Rim, he had privately ordered Admiral Ozzel to command the ship until further notice. He then snuck into one of the many Lambda shuttles available on the Executor, and blasted off to Tatooine.
Of course, something just had to go wrong.

Owen Lars's nephew had just turned four.
He frowned as the pudgy hand reached for the blue domed head. Luke had specifically asked for a droid to tinker with for his birthday, pleading with large teary eyes. Against his better judgement, Owen had brought Luke along to choose one from an old junk shop owned by a Toydarian. The toddler picked a small R2 unit that kept beeping incessantly. Owen felt his gut churn for some reason he couldn't identify; the droid seemed familiar somehow, and not in a good way.
He normally wouldn't have listened to the boy. It wouldn't do to spoil him after all. But the shopkeeper was selling it cheap- - -Owen suspected there was more of a story there, as Toydarians were notorious for their stinginess, and this particular one kept staring at Luke somewhat fondly- - -and a droid would be good to help around the farm. He figured that he could keep his nephew from sulking and get an astromech droid to repair the things that regularly broke down on his farm. It was a win-win situation.
There was something about this particular unit, though, that gave him a bad feeling. The kind of feeling that Owen normally got when Luke used that Force-thing his father was once famous for. Owen didn't have anything against his stepbrother; didn't know him well enough to like or dislike him. It was the Force-thing that made him grit his teeth. It wasn't natural, being able to talk in people's heads and move things without even touching them. People could get hurt.
Anakin had hurt people.
(I killed them- -I killed them all!)
He sighed at the thought of his absent stepbrother, blocking the harsh memory and shifting his thoughts to a different track. Owen had not known him well, but he had heard all the stories. The Hero Without Fear, the Chosen One, greatest pilot in the universe, Tatooine's best mechanic.
Imperial soldier extraordinaire.
Now Kenobi hadn't exactly told him that. The former Jedi Master had just dropped Luke on his doorstep, told him that Anakin hadn't known about his birth prior to the man's death, and to keep Anakin's son away from the Empire. Which was a difficult thing to do if you lived in the Empire, even on an Outer Rim planet, so Owen thought that Kenobi was two steps away from senility. So he had suspiciously asked the hermit why Luke needed to be kept away from what was basically 99% of the universe. The answer had been awkward and shifty (-He can't know about- Well, it's- -Ana- -I mean, someone might take Luke and- -ah-) , but it wasn't exactly subtle, and Owen got the gist of it.
Anakin was well and very much alive. He was also working for the Empire.
Owen wasn't sure why this was a bad thing, really. He didn't have any fondness for the Empire, but he didn't hate it either. Kenobi wouldn't budge, however, and any efforts Owen made to find information on his absent stepbrother always led to a dead end. He made sure to search for high-ranking members, because of course Anakin would be successful; the man oozed talent, even when he had been a slave. None of the Imperial generals matched his description, though. It looked like he would get to keep his nephew for a while longer.
"Artoo!"
Owen whirled on his nephew to see the boy reaching out for a disappearing astromech unit.
"Why is it running away?" He demanded, glaring at the shopkeeper. The Toydarian scratched his head.
"Unnnh, it's never done thatuh before."
"You tried to sell us a defective droid?!" he snapped, grabbing his nephew's shoulder to keep him from running after the unit.
"I didn't know it was broken, hmmm," the Toydarian said. "Ituh seemed fine when the Jawas brought it in."
"Well, it's broken now, so we're not paying for it. Do you have any other droids?"
"Let me lookuh." the alien fluttered to the back of the store.
Annoyed, Owen leaned back against the door frame, crossing his arms with a scowl. He glanced down at the blond toddler, whose eyes were already starting to fill with tears, and his frown grew deeper. With nothing better to do, the moisture farmer glanced at the roads outside. There seemed to be some sort of commotion. He felt wariness spike up as he watched shopkeepers and customers alike run for their speeders or barricade their doors.
The source of disturbance was revealed when R2-D2 came rolling back at a frenzied pace, shrieking in alarm.
Hot on the droid's heels was the Empire's second in command, Darth Vader.

The trouble started when the engines started to malfunction, making the ship wobble dangerously in mid-space. If Vader wasn't such an excellent pilot, he'd have been smushed into chunks of black armor several times over. As it was, he had already had several close calls with asteroids and meteors, fortunately arriving in the planet's atmosphere relatively unscathed.
Once he was in the atmosphere though, he felt a searing hot pain akin to Mustafar, and realized that his ship, upon entering the ozone layer, had caught on fire.
...Well, Sith.
It took him a moment to realize that he had just insulted himself.
He utilized all the piloting skills he had learned, along with a few improvised moves, and miraculously managed to arrive on the planet alive. Sand burst in a shower of gold as he crash landed on the desert planet.
Another happy landing, he thought sarcastically, climbing out of the totaled ship. He glared at the melted, broken hunk of metal. It should not have malfunctioned. Obviously, one of his soldiers had fancied himself a mechanic, and tried to make 'improvements' on the shuttle. If Vader ever found out who it was, he would design a brand new torture droid just for that imbecile of a pilot.
Fuming, the Anakin side took over and he kicked the shuttle uselessly. Slightly more rational now, he surveyed the area. There was sand, sand, sand...Oh look, more sand.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough to think. This was Tatooine. No matter how much he hated it, he still knew it like the back of his prosthetic. He looked around, noting the distinct land marks. If he remembered correctly, Mos Eisley was half an hour away.
Cursing Kenobi, the twin suns, and his black heat-absorbing suit, Vader trudged towards the town.

Mos Eisley was indeed half an hour away. By speeder. By foot, it took two hours. Vader was hot, thirsty and tired.
He finally arrived in the ramshackle town, not caring that people screamed and ran away at the sight of him, or that he would have to explain to the Emperor why he was even on Tatooine. He was seriously considering to tell Palpatine to go to hell one of these days, but maybe that would wait until he located the kill switch in his life support.
Boop-Beep. Master Anakin?
He froze, staring at the small astromech droid that had rolled up to him. "R2-D2?"
The droid beeped in alarm, apologizing about a case of mistaken identity, and rolled away hurriedly.
Perhaps the heat was getting to him, because it didn't occur to him to use the Force to pick up Artoo. What did occur to him was to run after the little droid, yelling, "Wait!"
Had he been in top condition, he would have caught up to the unit in no time. As it was, was exhausted, his suit was most likely malfunctioning after the fall and sand had gotten into the joints of his prosthetics. He was also whining a lot, but he figured that considering the circumstances, it was justified.
The frightened droid led him on a merry chase to the familiar areas of Watto's junkshop. He barely noticed the man he barreled into, who actually looked a lot like- -
"Cliegg Lars?"
The man didn't seem to recognize him, instead staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Which was to be expected, he reflected.
He stood there and waited for the other man to answer.
Or at least recover from what looked to be a spontaneous stroke.
Behind the moisture farmer's legs, a small blond head peeked out. Giggling, the boy toddled away from his guardian, who was still too frozen with fear to notice, and grabbed a handful of Vader's black cloak.
"Hi," he said, grinning. "I'm Luke. And tha's my uncle Owen." he pointed at the man who was apparently his stepbrother, not his stepfather. "You look like a droid, mister."
Vader tilted his head.

How the kriffing hell does Darth Vader know my old man's name?
Owen tried to push Luke behind him, only for his hand to meet nothing but air. He glanced at the ground, spotting the trail of tiny sandy footprints. Very slowly, he followed them with his eyes and located his nephew.
Who was clinging to Vader's cloak.
The moisture farmer felt his heart stop.
"Luke!" he hissed, taking a half-step towards the boy. "Luke, get back here!"
Anakin's son turned to him with a bright smile, "I change my mind, Uncle Owen!" he tightened his grip on the black material, and to Owen's utter horror, exclaimed, "This is the droid I wan'!"

***​

Droid?
Perhaps if the twin suns and that frying pan of a helmet hadn't temporarily killed whatever brain cells he hadn't fried on Mustafar, or if the Anakin side of him hadn't been taking over for the whole day, he would have been angry enough to throttle the boy. As it was, he only felt mildly indignant and amused. Mostly amused.
"Please, uncle Owen! I'll take care of 'im real good! I'll fix 'im when he gets broken an' take 'im on walks an' stuff- -"
Does he think I'm some Correllian hound as well? "I am not a droid," he cut the boy off. "I am Darth Vader."
Small eyebrows furrowed, and Vader suddenly realized the boy was Force sensitive. Mainly because of the onslaught of thoughts that attacked his mental shields. What's a Vader droid? It sounds cool. Why does he have two names? I have two names too, but Uncle Owen said droids only have one desi-desgin- code thingy. Do I need to tell him two names too? I guess it would be rude if I didn't.
The boy grinned up at him. "I'm Luke Skywalker."
There was a very long pause as both sides of Vader and Anakin tried to absorb that information. The gears in his head turned with painful slowness, before they finally processed the child's words. Then, perhaps a bit late, came the outburst.
"YOU'RE WHAT?!" Vader leaned down and grabbed the startled toddler by his shoulders. "What was that name?! In what way are you related to Anakin Skywalker?"
Skywalker wasn't a common name. Even if someone bore the same surname somewhere in the galaxy, the chances that they'd end up with his stepbrother unless they were related to him were slim.
The boy tugged weakly on his gloves. "Mister droid, you're scaring me..."
In a sudden moment of courage, Owen stepped forward and trained his blaster on Vader. "Let go of him, you kriffing Sith- -!"
He waved his hand and the blaster flew out of Owen's grip. The moisture farmer paled.
"I am going to ask this once," the Sith advanced menacingly. "What relation does that boy have with Anakin Skywalker?"
Owen opened his mouth angrily, most likely to declare along the something along the lines of, No way in hell will I tell you anything. But Luke beat him to it.
"Anakin Skywalker's my daddy! Old Ben said so!"
Vader, to his credit, took the news with the stoicism of a soldier. In fact, he seemed completely frozen in place.
"Mister droid, are you okay?"
Owen tried to console his horrified wife, who was hyperventilating at the moment.
"Wh-how-but- -"
"I know, I know," he soothed, rubbing her arm. "I was surprised too."
He glanced at Vader out of the corner of his eye. Anakin's dead, my ass. Damn that Kenobi.
Owen remembered searching for his stepbrother among high-ranked Imperials, and hitting dead ends over and over.
I guess I just wasn't looking high enough.
"Dad? Can I bring my bantha toy?"
"Of course, Luke."
He sighed. He would miss the boy, and so would his wife once she had calmed down enough to process everything.
He briefly wondered what Kenobi would think, but since this was all the old lunatic's fault anyway, Owen wouldn't even bother trying to contact him about Vader taking Luke. Kenobi should have known better than to go on an errand to Dantooine while he was supposed to be guarding the kid anyway.
Owen wondered about leaving his nephew with Anakin, as he had only met the man once before. And what glimpse of madness he had seen then had been enough to scare the crap out of him. Now, the man was Darth Vader, the most feared person in the galaxy.
It probably wasn't a good choice to let him take care of a four-year-old; but there wasn't much he could do if Vader wanted to take Luke away. It was his right, after all, and Vader would undoubtedly slice Owen in half if he tried to stop him.
He could better protect Luke if he was alive, even if it was just to provide sanctuary if ever the boy needed it.

Luke clung to the black cloak like a lifeline, trying to make himself look as small as possible. Which wasn't really hard, because Daddy was standing in front of him and Daddy was huge. R-2 was also with him, rolling along behind them and letting out worried beeps.
He didn't get why Uncle Owen suddenly let him go with the big droid, and told him the droid was his Daddy, but he believed him. He would miss his uncle, though, and Aunt Beru too.
Speaking of Aunt Beru, she had been acting a little strange earlier. Uncle Owen had to drag her away from Luke before she let him breathe again. Then his uncle told him that if he ever got hurt, or felt scared, he should come back to the farm. He didn't know why his uncle would tell him that, but Daddy had already told him to go before he had the time to ask.
He peeked at the row of stormtroopers and Imperial officers from behind his father. They were all staring at him, although they didn't look brave enough to ask about him. Why would they be scared of a little kid? Or maybe it was his Daddy they were scared of?
He looked at his father and determined that this was the case.
"L-lord Vader?" One of the braver soldiers stepped forward.
Vader stopped. "Yes?"
"There appears to be a child attached to your person, sir?" the officer said uncertainly, phrasing the statement as a question.
"I am aware of that, Admiral."
There was an awkward silence, as the Sith refused to clarify and the admiral wondered how he was supposed to respond to that. Preferably in a way that wouldn't get him killed.
Vader snickered inwardly at Admiral Ozzel's discomfort.
He didn't dislike Ozzel. He was actually quite impressed with the man's efficiency; the Executor had arrived on Tatooine in record time after he had sent out the transmission. He had expected to be kept waiting much longer. But just because he didn't hate the admiral, it didn't mean that he didn't enjoy watching him squirm from time to time.
It was a bit unhealthy to enjoy other people's fear, the Anakin side of him thought, but the Vader side found it rather amusing.
"Dad?"
Stang. He had been hoping to keep that part a secret for a little while longer... But the ripple of shock from the assembled men more than made up for the lack of dramatic reveal he had planned.
"Yes, Luke?"
The boy fidgeted. "I hafta go potty."
There was a beat of silence.
A nervous officer saved Vader from having to reply. "Lord Vader, the Emperor demands that you make contact with him."
He had almost forgotten about the old corpse... the old corpse who had told him that he killed his wife. Since Luke was here, he had obviously lied. Which was just another reason to tell Palpatine to shove it.
"Tell the Emperor he can- -" Vader began in an uncharacteristic moment of petulance, before he remembered that he should be setting a better example for his son. "Tell him I will contact him shortly." he amended. The officer nodded and scurried off.
Best case scenario, Palpatine would want to make Luke a Sith apprentice. Vader was quite sure that there were only two Sith at any given time, but he figured that he had broken all the rules as a Jedi anyway, so breaking them on the other side shouldn't be all that different.
Worst case scenario, the Emperor would want Luke dead. If he ordered that, Vader was going to built a conductor to kill him with his own lightning, Master or not...
Hmm. Perhaps he should take the time to meditate before he contacted his Master, or they would have problems.
A small hand tugged on his cloak. "Dad, I hafta go now."

The Emperor blinked at his apprentice. Stared. Tried to process his words. Then blinked again.
"What do you mean you have a son?"
"I mean exactly that, Master. His name is Luke." Vader's voice was as mechanical as ever, but Palpatine could pick up the wry undertone that was more Anakin Skywalker than Darth Vader. He suppressed a groan. It was always harder to deal with the Light side of his apprentice, for the sole reason that the man's Force-projected thoughts became infinitely more annoying to listen to.
"...I see." he said, quickly regaining his composure. If the boy took after his father, he would be a powerful ally. "What do you plan to do with him?"
"I plan to train him, Master."
There was something in his apprentice's voice that made the Emperor want to ask for further clarification. "You will train him in the ways of the Dark Side?"
"Eventually."
But I was thinking of potty training for now, actually.
Palpatine started at the whimsical voice of Anakin he heard through the Force. He stared at his apprentice, flabbergasted- -although said apprentice seemed unaware that he had projected that thought- -for a long moment. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, when he decided that it wasn't worth it. "Where is your son now?"
"In the refresher."
"Ah."
Well. That explained the potty training at least? He was about to speak when he noticed a small figure with a large Force presence toddle behind Vader. The boy started poking the armored man in the back.
"Dad! Dad! Dad!" It seemed that the child had inherited more of Anakin Skywalker than he hoped. Including his penchant for annoying everyone in the vicinity.
"Luke, go to the other room."
"Dad! Dad! Dad!"
"Would you like to talk later, Lord Vader?" Palpatine asked, already feeling a headache coming on. Force, it was like dealing with two Anakin Skywalkers.
"No, Master."
"Because I can." Really.
"Dad! What's that ugly wrinkly blue thing?"
Palpatine turned off the holocomm. Some things just weren't worth dealing with before his morning coffee

***​

...Time goes by...​

Force visions were always varied. Or at least, the ones he had been in throughout the months were. They had used many places; most were nondescript, unfocused and generic, created only for the purpose of training. But this time, it was different.
"Isn't it beautiful? You can come here any time you like, son."
Luke stared at the meadow, his small mouth hanging open in awe. It reminded him of Tatooine, but instead of a rolling mass of golden sand, this place was green, green everywhere. It was peppered with small colorful things; flowers, he remembered from the datapads at Biggs' house. There was something cutting through the green; a large, clear pool of-
"Water!" he gasped. He had never seen so much water before. It was huge, shades of blue and green, sparkling in the sunlight.
"It's called a lake." A heavy hand landed on his head. "Do you like it?"
The boy nodded vigorously and looked up at his father, grinning. The man smiled back, ruffling his hair. "I'm glad to hear that."
This place is pretty, but I like looking at Daddy better, he thought. His father looked a lot nicer in the Force projection. He had blue eyes-like me!-and brown hair- although he insisted it was blond, dark blond maybe?- and he smiled a lot more. He also talked about things that would get him mad when he was in the real world, like the Jedi and Old Ben.
He didn't wear that weird suit that made him look like an evil droid anymore. Although sometimes, if he looked really closely, Luke could see the black suit overlapping his father's frame, like a double vision. When he saw his father like that, Vader's eyes were always yellow.
"Where are we, Dad?"
He instantly regretted asking. The man's smile dropped, and a melancholic look took over his features. The meadow suddenly seemed much bleaker, its colors paling and the peaceful atmosphere slowly dissipated, favoring a sadder air. Luke shifted closer to him, lower lip trembling at the pained feeling suddenly emanating from their surroundings.
"Varykino," he said quietly. He turned to the palace on the edge of the lake. His son followed his line of sight. For a fleeting moment, Luke saw a beautiful woman with brown eyes leaning on the balcony rail, smiling and waving at them happily. Then she was gone.
Unnerved, the boy clung to his father's leg. He didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing when his mother appeared. His father never seemed to really see her, even when she tried to come near and talk to them. Luke knew that neither of them consciously created her in their Force projections. She was just there, flitting around and disappearing like a ghost in old Jawa legends.
"Dad?" he asked in a small voice. His father tilted his head slightly, acknowledging the query, but he still stared vacantly at the marble building. "Are we here to train?"
That seemed to shake him out of his stupor. "No, you've done enough training for this week. Besides, today is special."
"But I haven't done anything," Luke whined. "I'm big enough to do training an' stuff!"
"Five years old isn't 'big'. You're not supposed to be doing anything at all at five." His father pointed out.
"But aren't you supposed to make the wrinkly blue man happy an' train me?" The child was confused. The wrinkly blue man was his father's boss, and Uncle Owen used to say that you had to keep Imperial bosses happy or they would fire at you.
"Nope." his father laid on the grass and patted the spot next to him. "All we're going to do today is relax and ignore the Wookiee-sized piles of paperwork I'm supposed to be doing. Now come here. I'll tell you a story."
Luke scrambled to his father's side, using his arm as a pillow.
"Have I ever told you about the time in Cato Neimodia? No? Well, it was all Obi-Wan's fault..."
His father's voice faded into a low murmur. He hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment. His eyes drooped and he felt the Force projection slipping away, in favor of blissful slumber.
Just before they fell asleep, Anakin pulled his son close and whispered, "Happy birthday, Luke."

***​

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Again, please give concrit and reviews! If anyone liked reading this, the full story is at this link:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9706778/1/The-Good-Son
Because I don't know how to make a multichaptered story here...

 

Usually what we do is post one chapter per post. I would suggest that if you do that you don't post all chapters in the same day. For some reason people like to read a new chapter once or twice a week. If you spread out the time you reveal the story chapters you are more likely to gain readers. Another suggestion to use the edit button on the bottom of your post to fix the formatting. I have no idea why this system does this, but it has a tendency to take out spaces between paragraphs. I have to go and put in the spaces every time I post a chapter. Having spaces between paragraghs or change in dialog helps the reader. If you have a wall of words the reader has a tendency to lose their place in their reading and will give up.