WARNING:

Reader's discretion is advised. Intense, descriptive scenes of violence. Content may not be suitable for some readers.

Luke stretched once he was on solid ground as Anakin approached, looking around at the rolling fields around them before he glanced back at their X-Wings, safely hidden in the trees behind them. "Well...I guess we should see if we can find someplace to stay for the night and get a good feel for the town, right? Figure out how we're going to look for any possible Imperial presence..."

Anakin pursed his lips. "Well, if you really want to know about a town, you've got to look in the cantinas," he said. "But first let's find a place to stay. You all set?"

Luke smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, we should probably do that first," he said, hiding his pilot suit away. He was back in his medal ceremony clothes, which he'd been wearing underneath the pilot suit.

"Let's try not to stay anywhere scary; Dodonna set us up with enough money for the necessities," Luke told Anakin, showing the older man the credit chip Dodonna had given him earlier before they left Yavin.

Anakin chuckled at his son. "May I ask what your definition of scary is?"

"Somewhere I feel like if I touch anything or breathe I'm going to get an incurable disease," Luke responded seriously.

Anakin grinned. "Don't ever visit the under levels of Coruscant then."

Luke grimaced. "I'll remember that," he said with a shake of his head. "Hopefully there's nowhere here like that."

Anakin sobered and led the way until they were atop a berm overlooking a small city.

"We need to blend in if possible, or at the very least keep a low profile," he said, starting on his way towards the city.

Luke nodded. "So we'll find a place to stay and then start looking in the cantinas for any signs of Imperials...or Hutts."

Anakin pursed his lips, throwing Luke a look over his shoulder. "You'll be better off with a Hutt at this point than an Imperial. Hutts can be bartered with, and they have a price." He stopped and pointed. "There's a hotel, looks decent enough."

Luke shrugged. "I already told you my conditions. So long as I'm not in fear of catching some deadly disease, I don't really care where we stay," he muttered as he followed after his father.

Anakin chortled, but led the way inside, keeping an eye on his surroundings. The lobby, while not huge, was refreshingly clean. A small assortment of chairs sat beside a country-style fireplace, while the front desk was manned by a person rather than a droid.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," the hostess greeted them with a pleasant smile. "How may I help you?"

"Do you have any rooms available?" Anakin asked, stepping up to the counter. "We need one room with two beds if you have it."

"Let me check..." the woman typed a few commands into her computer, and then nodded. "We do have one available; how long will you be staying?"

"Put us down for two nights for now, and if we need to add to that we will," Anakin replied.

"Very good, Sir...and a name please?" She looked up expectantly.

Anakin said the first thing that came to mind, surprising both himself and Luke. "Lars."

The clerk didn't even bat an eye, she just went right on typing until it was time for payment. "You will have to pay up front, I'm afraid."

"That's fine." Anakin motioned Luke forward.

Luke gave the clerk a small smile, wordlessly handing over the credit chip and waiting until the money had transferred before taking the chip back. "Thank you," Luke said with a slight nod.

The clerk smiled at them as they accepted their credit-chip back, and then her gaze lowered and she frowned.

"Do you require a medic?" she asked, indicating Luke's leg.

Both men followed her gaze to see some blood had seeped into Luke's pant leg.

"Oh..." Luke fumbled for words, but Anakin was quick to rebound.

"Actually, we were just on our way to the medical center," he used the Force to deflect her attention. "We only wanted to secure a hotel room first so we would have a place to come back and rest afterward. It's just a flesh wound, really."

Luke nodded. "Yeah we've already treated it for the most part; only need to have an actual doctor look at it now. I actually forgot it was there..." Luke added the last part in a soft murmur.

The woman looked equal parts dubious and accepting, but she didn't give them any more grief.

"The medical center is five blocks south of the hotel," she offered politely.

"Thank you," Anakin gave her a small smile and led Luke away toward the lift.

"We really do need to get your leg looked at," he said seriously once the door closed. He touched the stain and grimaced to find it moist. "That blood is relatively fresh...are you in pain?"

"Well, yes, but not any more than normal," Luke admitted, knowing now wasn't the time to act tough and try to downplay the wound.

Anakin pursed his lips. "If you want I can teach you a pain suppression technique."

Luke's brow furrowed, managing to keep his mouth from forming a small 'o' of surprise. "Pain suppression? You can do that?"

Anakin smirked. "Yes." Growing serious, he added, "But it's not meant to replace actual healthcare, understand?"

"Just to...numb the pain until medical attention can be found, I'm guessing?" Luke mused, staring down at the leg as he thought about what his father was suggesting. "Or draw strength from the Force until you can get a respite?"

"Either or...unless you need both." Anakin answered as the lift halted and they moved to their room.

"212..." Anakin murmured, reading the door numbers as they passed. "Here it is."

He took his keycard and opened the door, admitting Luke first.

"Sit down and let me see the leg, please." Anakin asked.

Luke made his way over to the bed, rolling up his pant leg so that Anakin could actually see the wound. It was openly bleeding again-not as badly as it had when the wound was first made, but still bleeding-and Luke grimaced at the sight, wondering what could possibly have opened the wound.

Anakin examined the injury closely and saw that it had reopened.

"It could be that you're walking on it too much and the battle stressed it before it healed fully."

Anakin took Luke by the hands and placed them just above the injury. "I'm only doing the hand thing for a connection between us. Touching physically helps it be stronger." Anakin explained. "Ready?"

Luke nodded, find his calm center and paying rapt attention to everything Anakin was doing as he opened himself up to the Force so he could sense what Anakin was doing as well.

Anakin closed his eyes and once more touched Luke's mind. He was amazed not for the first time at its complexity and the purity of Luke's heart and soul.

Focusing once he got a whiff of the pain Luke was trying to ignore, Anakin began to show Luke the process, doing it slowly and then stopping so Luke could replicate.

Anakin did this until Luke had a good grasp of the process and then backed off.

Breathing evenly, Luke managed to gradually siphon the pain away into the Force and draw on the Force for strength at the same time. It amazed him how invigorated he became, and how the pain was that much easier to ignore now.

Pain suppressor indeed.

This was definitely a skill to remember. He only hoped he'd be able to draw upon the power again on his own without his father's guidance. Luke finally opened his eyes once he was sure he could split his attention, smiling at his father. "That's helpful to know."

Anakin snorted. "I've always thought so, too."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Well, pain suppression aside, I'd still like to staunch the bleeding," Luke said pointedly.

Anakin nodded, pulling a towel out of the refresher and placing it on the injury. Luke hissed at the pressure and Anakin gave him an apologetic look.

"Sorry. Can you hold it a moment?"

Luke nodded. "Yes, I can do that," he said quietly, shifting in place and tracking his father's progress with his eyes.

Anakin released the towel and grabbed an extra sheet from the drawer in the base of the dresser. Without hesitation he began to use his lightsaber to cut it down.

Lune gaped at him and Anakin, seeing this, explained. "We can reimburse them the sheet, Luke. You are far more important to me than money."

With that he tightly wrapped the leg above the wound and tied it off to act as a temporary tourniquet.

"I'll have to remember to be more careful on that leg; guess that means no bar fights." Luke smirked teasingly. "Though I guess that rule should be for you."

Anakin grinned widely. "Let's just hope there aren't any Changelings in town."

Luke cocked an eyebrow, well aware that there was probably a story behind that comment. "Oh and why is that?"

Anakin waved Luke forward. "Let's get to the med ward before the hostess gets suspicious."

As they made their way outside, Anakin began to expound upon his opening line.

"Obi-Wan and I were chasing an assassin trying to kill Padmé, we ended up at a cantina after a speeder chase and it turned out our assassin was a female Changling."

"Oh...interesting," Luke mused. "Well...I guess it would be nice to not run into one of them, then."

Luke glanced back at his leg. "I suppose I won't mind seeing the doctors around here, so long as their solution to everything isn't amputation," Luke stated with a grin.

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Two hours later, Anakin and Luke walked out of the medical center. Anakin had a grin on his face while Luke just looked upset. The doctors had not been too gentle with him, and Anakin wanted to cheer him up.

"Look at the bright side," Anakin nudged Luke gently, a wide smile on his face. "At least their solution wasn't amputation."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks. I seriously thought that's what he was going to say though, when he saw my leg..." Luke shook his head. "Remind me not to skip out on a Rebellion treatment the next time it's available. I'll take the Rebellion doctors over doctors like that any day."

Anakin adopted a very Obi-Wan-type expression, lifting a finger. "Take this as a lesson well learned, young Luke; always get medical care when offered by competent doctors."

Luke snorted. "Wow...wow...that just sounds strange coming from you," he chuckled, his mood immediately lightening. This was going to be a fun trip.

Anakin shrugged. "I try."

Luke smirked. "So are we going to check out some of the local spots tonight or just save that for tomorrow?" Luke asked him as they made their way in the general direction of the hotel.

Anakin considered. "Why don't we grab a meal and then turn in early. I don't know about you, but I'm tired."

Luke shrugged. "Okay then, I guess so. Most of the day has just been traveling, and just from our wandering around the city I haven't seen any Imperials around here...yet."

Anakin nodded. "It's a plan then. Look; there's a place to eat."

"I hope the food here's better than the doctors..." Luke said with an expression between a wan smile and a grimace.

"Only one way to find out," Anakin teased, finding a table and smiling at the waitress. "Just order something you can pronounce."

Luke laughed. "I don't think I'm going to order something if I don't know how to say it," Luke said with a grin, skimming over what they had to eat. He recognized something with nerf in it and decided to play it safe, ordering that as well as some water.

Anakin entertained Luke with another story about Padmé, how she convinced him to go to Geonosis to save Obi-Wan, and then had a hand in the battle that ensued after their supposed to be executions. He ended the tale with an explanation of his and Padmé's wedding.

"She was gorgeous, looking every bit the angel I've always seen her as," Anakin said happily. "It was the best day of my life, until I met you."

Luke blushed at his father's compliment, glancing down. He would have made a comment about wishing he could have known her, though he didn't want to cast a shadow over the current conversation. Instead, he opted for a different statement. "I wish I could see what she looked like..." Luke mused, clasping his hands together and propping his chin up on his interlocked fingers. "Though it does sound like you haven't had a boring moment in your life," he added, smiling a little at the statement.

Anakin grimaced. "I hate to disappoint, but my life has been far from perfect, Luke. As for your mother...well, I'll see if I can't find a holo of her when we return to the fleet."

Luke's smile softened a little. "I didn't say it sounded perfect, I just said it sounded like it wasn't a boring one...but I would be grateful to see a picture...thank you."

Anakin nodded, finishing his plate and setting it aside. He was really getting tired now and couldn't wait to get a good night sleep for once. He'd not slept soundly in too long.

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Back at the hotel, a surreptitious tip was sent to the Imperial authorities from the hostess.

There are two odd gentlemen who just arrived, one of them matches the description of the man from the wanted notices. Blond hair, blue eyes, leg wound. Please use caution, they carry strange weapons.

She sat back, feeling as though she'd done the right thing.

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Anakin waited for Luke to finish before they made their way back to their room where Anakin flopped onto his bed.

"How's the leg?" he asked Luke around a yawn.

"Much better now since you showed me how to maintain the pain; that part's kind of unavoidable. I don't quite know if the trip to this hospital worked yet though," Luke said with a chuckle, getting on his own bed and gingerly stretching out after he kicked off his boots.

Anakin managed a laugh. "We could always go back, tell them you prefer that amputa-"

"No! No, no, no, no, no; I'm fine thank you!" Luke cut him off in a rush, sitting up sharply in the bed. He scowled and threw his pillow at Anakin whenever his father started to laugh at him. "Very funny."

Anakin finished laughing, and then deftly rolled to the right side of the bed, lifted the covers on the left, then shuffled under the blankets and sighed contentedly.

"Goodnight, Luke." Anakin waved his light off with the Force before adding mischievously, "try not to catch anything while you sleep.''

Luke, having retrieved his pillow before the lights went out, huffed in annoyance, though there was a smile gracing his lips as he did so. He too relaxed into the covers, stifling a yawn. "Goodnight, Father."

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Anakin stood with Luke at a crossroads. There were three different cantinas, and as much as he didn't want to leave Luke to himself in any of them, they would cover more ground by splitting up.

"Be careful, and do not give anyone your real name, understand?" Anakin told his son. "And avoid drinking...Force only knows what they serve here."

Luke wrinkled his nose. "After that cantina on Tatooine, I don't think I'll ever drink. Don't worry about me, Father, I'll be okay. There hasn't been anything at the last few spots we've snooped around in."

Anakin didn't quite agree, as his senses had been tingling for the last two hours. However, any time he looked about there was no culprit.

But he didn't want Luke to go off unprepared. "Luke," he said in a low tone. "Don't trust anyone, okay? Just get the feel for the place, listen in on a few conversations, and get out."

Luke sobered at his father's tone, nodding. "In and out, I promise," Luke assured him, placing a gentle hand on his father's shoulder and smiling at the older man. "I'll wait for you back here when I'm done."

Anakin nodded. "All right. And Luke..." He paused, unable to recall in that moment if he'd already said this. "I love you...Son."

Luke felt a little concerned about the way Anakin was acting, almost like he had a bad feeling...

Maybe I should tread carefully, Luke thought to himself.

"I love you too, Father," Luke replied just as softly. With that, Luke forced himself to turn away and head into the cantina on the far right. He kept his head down and his demeanor calm as he made his way to the bar, gaze flickering around for any sight of an Imperial. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean there weren't any at all.

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Anakin's senses didn't flare when Luke left his sight, so he reluctantly went left and up a few blocks to the next bar in line.

He made sure to hide his lightsaber from immediate view, and cursed when he realized he'd forgotten to tell Luke to do so as well.

He only hoped Luke would know it on his own. Anakin located a corner booth at the end of the bar where he could watch the entire room and the door simultaneously.

Taking a seat, he ordered an ale and pretended to sip it for appearance's sake.

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Luke shifted in place at his seat at the bar, double checking to make sure his lightsaber was hidden from any prying eyes. The bartender handed him...something, Luke wasn't even sure what. He'd just pointed and handed over the credits, casting a cursory glance around the room. He strained his ears, trying to hear anything along the lines of Imperial or Rebel as he idly swirled the drink in his cup, pretending to take a small drink and grimacing at the smell.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but just as Luke was about to get up and leave after hearing nothing of the sort, a man approached with a grin that made him look drunk. The hairs on the back of Luke's neck stood on end as the man reached him.

"Y'look lie a decent fellow," the man said, his words horridly slurred. "I noticed ya was sittin alone an thought ya might lie a drinkin buddy; care to share a drink wi'me?"

Luke offered him a polite smile, eyes darting towards the two exits, the nearest one being the back door to the alley. "Oh no, I was just waiting for someone to show up, but it doesn't look like they're coming. I was just leaving..."

"Nonsense!" the man practically boomed. "Have a drink wi'me, I insist!" He slapped Luke on the back right on the shoulder blade so hard that Luke tumbled back into his seat. However, that wasn't what worried him. What worried him was the sharp prick he'd felt where the man had slapped him, and how suddenly his Force Senses were screaming danger at him. Luke stood up from the bar, staring at the man who suddenly looked too calm to be drunk. Luke's head started to spin, and he had to lean against the counter for support.

"What did you...do to me?" Luke asked, alarmed by how hard he was finding it to speak.

"Don't bother running, you won't even make it out of the alley," the man replied evenly. Luke decided to take that chance, turning around and bolting for the door to the back alley. The world was already starting to tilt dangerously, and Luke wasn't even entirely sure if he was still standing. He hit something hard, stumbling into what felt like a pile of garbage as his breathing came out in sporadic, short bursts.

Get to Anakin! his mind screamed at him. Get help! Used the Force! Use your lightsaber! Don't let him take you!

Luke reached out and splayed his hand against the first surface he could find as he world rapidly started to go dark, pulling himself up with the little strength he had and reaching for the Force. He heard the man from the bar speak as if from some distant tunnel.

"I will admit, I'm impressed. Usually you would be choking on your own saliva by now," the man said, though Luke paid him no mind. Reaching blindly for his lightsaber and for enough strength in the Force to do this one thing, he thumbed the blade on instinctively, relying solely on the Force to guide him.

"Get away," Luke gasped, leaning against the wall as he-hopefully-leveled the blade in front of him.

"A lightsaber..." the man hissed. "Jedi or not, you won't make it off of this planet alive."

The Force suddenly told Luke to swing and so he did, allowing the blade to carve its own path. The man cried out in pain and Luke's miniscule strength finally gave out, causing Luke to drop the lightsaber and fall into the garbage he was standing in. The man was growling curses and insults as he neared Luke, but Luke couldn't see him, and the words were turning garbled. Weakly, Luke tried to crawl away, reaching out blindly with his hand touching the wall as everything slowly faded away, his hand slipping from the surface before one last thought flickered in his mind in the barest whisper.

Father...

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Anakin spotted the would-be undercover operatives long before they started to surreptitiously block the exits.

Thus, when he was approached, Anakin pointedly ignored the man until he was just about to touch Anakin.

"May I help you?" Anakin asked calmly.

"Is this seat taken?" The man with dark hair and an oily smile asked, gesturing. It didn't escape Anakin's notice that his one hand was clenched just so around an object.

"Actually, it is," Anakin replied.

The man lifted a brow. "I couldn't help but notice you've been waiting here for a few hours now. Did your lady ditch you?"

Anakin snorted. "Not likely."

"Then who are you waiting for?"

"And it's your business because?" Anakin lifted a pointed brow.

He didn't like the way the man suddenly tilted his head and then smirked. Anakin saw a similar thing across the bar from the rest of the group, and prepared himself for a fight.

"I'm sorry to say you won't be meeting your...friend today." The dark-haired man lifted his hand as if to slap Anakin on the shoulder...

Anakin reacted swiftly, spinning the other direction off his seat and slapping the man's hand away harshly. The other man growled angrily.

"Take him!" He roared.

Anakin saw multiple blasters lift toward him, and he dove behind the nearest empty table he could find, flipping it up for protection. He then used the Force to pull a chair up and hit the man guarding the nearest exit.

The man went down with a thud and his friends all looked at him in shock. Anakin used this distraction to charge the next guy in line.

He saw Anakin coming amidst the clamoring crowd of patrons trying to leave the building. But as his blaster swung back around, Anakin grabbed a tumbler off a table and hurled it with great accuracy at his weapon. The man cursed as the blaster went flying and then Anakin was there, delivering a right-hook into his jaw.

The man swore again and began to trade blows with Anakin but the Jedi was faster. Anakin swept a leg through the other's legs and he fell, while Anakin followed through with a glass bottle to the head.

He moved on to the next man, who was already charging in to assist his friend. Anakin ducked his first blow, saw a third enemy take aim, and he grabbed his latest attacker and uses him as a shield.

Blue rings of energy that were meant for Anakin impacted instead with the other man, who went limp. Anakin picked him up and hurled him into two more who were charging him from behind.

That left the leader and one more. Anakin went for the underling first, but in the midst of his fist-fight with the new assailant, a burst of fear and even some pain hit him through the Force.

And it carried Luke's Force signature.

Anakin stumbled, enough so that the guy he was fighting grabbed Anakin and spun him to face his supervisor. The man was grinning.

"We got your friend; you're next," he sneered.

Father...

Anakin snarled, feeling Luke's presence go fuzzy with the weak call.

"Not today," he huffed as he elbowed his captor in the gut and turned the man's blaster on him, dropping him with the blue stun rings. Then Anakin dodged the leader's last attempt to drop Anakin again with hardly any effort, using the Force to shove him harshly into the wall where he connected head-first and collapsed lifelessly.

Anakin wasted no time in racing outside, sprinting to the cantina Luke had just been in. But Luke was nowhere to be seen.

"You looking for that blond boy?" The bartender asked.

"Yes," Anakin replied, spinning to face him.

"Went out that door, haven't seen him since." The guy pointed without even looking up from what he was doing.

Anakin was out the door so fast the man barely had time to blink. But though there were signs if a scuffle, there was no Luke.

Anakin did his best to keep his anger and panic at bay, but though he looked, he found no trail to follow.

"No!" Anakin shouted, slamming his flesh fist into the nearest wall. His knuckles split from the impact, but he ignored it.

Anakin's first thought was to search the men who had jumped him, and so he returned to the cantina and began to rifle through their gear for any leads.

The only thing he found-he had to give them points for being anonymous-was a keycard on the leader, who he only now saw was dead.

Anakin grimaced, reminded yet again what dangerous things he could do when upset. He hadn't meant to kill the fool...

Anakin heard the other men beginning to stir, and quickly left, knowing better than to return to the hotel room. He instead retreated to the ships, where Artoo and Boomer were both waiting.

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The first thing Luke knew when he regained the first trickle of consciousness was pain. It wasn't a concentrated, single pain either, but a consuming, unbearable fire that raged both within and without, leaping and burning him everywhere. Luke couldn't help the cry of agony that made it past his lips as he was violently jolted back to awareness.

Confusion slowly came over Luke as he tried to remember what happened, why he felt so weak, and why he could feel manacles around his wrists, hoisting him up with his arms stretched over his head. The chill of the room Luke guessed he was in-though couldn't remember how he'd gotten there-kissed his mysteriously bare torso, and Luke repressed a shiver.

"Your time for rest is over," a sharp, female voice colder than the room he was in suddenly said. "Now you will answer every one of my questions, or suffer the consequences."

Luke slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the pain the dim light caused him as he stared down at the rough stone floor, gradually lifting his eyes to the cold steel walls around him before his gaze settled on the pristine Imperial officer in front of him. Her flat grey eyes were cold and uncaring, her lips holding a cruel twist that promised unimaginable pain. The woman leaned forward.

"Before you ask the same, pathetic questions they ask every time, no I will not tell you where you are or who I am. All you will know is that you are where no one but those who enjoy it will hear you scream, I will be the end of you, and you will tell me all you know. No one is coming to save you, and you will die down here. The only thing you have left to decide is if your death will be quick and relatively painless or if you will die screaming, cold, alone, and forgotten."

Luke didn't say a word, staring evenly back at the woman without moving. He'd heard the stories, the nightmare inducing tales of Imperial interrogation-which was actually torture if one was being honest. He knew that this woman in front of him was going to expose him to pain he would have never dreamed of. But he would not give up his father, or Leia, or the Rebellion no matter what they did to him.

The woman leaned forward more, and for the first time Luke noticed there were several other Imperials in the room. "I know you were on the Death Star, Rebel. I know you rescued the princess, and I know you are a Jedi. I have already contacted Lord Vader; you would be doing yourself a favor if you would tell me all you know before he arrives. He will not be as merciful as I am."

Luke felt ice cold fear rush through him, but he did not speak a word. He did, however, tremble slightly, a sight that made the woman smile.

"I thought that would get a reaction out of you," she purred, stepping closer. Luke stiffened in anticipation as she leaned in. "Now for my first question; what is your name?"

Luke's gaze hardened, and yet again he remained silent. The woman's hand snapped out, grasping his jaw so tightly her fingernails dug into the skin of his cheeks and drew blood.

"You should know the longer you don't speak, the more pain you will experience."

Again, Luke said nothing, and the woman shrugged. "Suit yourself." She turned to one of the men behind her. "Bring me the injection."

One of the men handed her a syringe, and Luke tensed on instinct, loath of the thought of being injected with some mysterious substance again. He struggled, but the woman didn't even need to try and restrain him, easily sliding the needle into his arm. It burned going in, and he could practically feel it eating its way through his system. The woman smiled sweetly at him.

"This will enhance everything you feel. I'm sure your bonds already feel colder, like millions of little knives digging into your wrists. The pain will only increase the longer you're in those bonds. So if just sitting there hurts so much..."

She trailed off, straightening up as Luke tried to ignore the increasing pain in his wrists. "I will ask you one more time: what is your name?"

Luke didn't even look at her this time, but he did see her hand snap out in his peripherals before he was blindsided by a sudden, intense agony in the side of his face. He knew she'd only slapped him, but he felt as if all the bones in that half of his face had shattered, eliciting a cry from him. Breathing a little heavier, Luke turned his gaze back to the woman, who was still smiling.

"Now imagine how much this will hurt," she said, waving a vibroblade in Luke's face before she pressed the blade against his bare chest. Instantly his nerves flared, sending more pain signals to his brain even though the blade hadn't even broken skin yet. "Let's try a new question; what is your relationship with Princess Leia?"

Luke grit his teeth and tried to even out his breathing, though when he didn't respond the woman dug the blade into his chest and sliced deeply across the width of his chest. Luke screamed; it felt as if she'd just ripped his chest open with her bare hands. The woman didn't stop there either; she kept asking questions Luke's agony hazed mind couldn't quite understand, and with every unanswered question came another laceration.

"Where are the rebels?" he heard her ask, and when he didn't answer she plunged the knife into his leg injury, reopening the wound. She might as well have set him on fire from the sound that ripped up his throat.

Frantically, he reached for the Force, hoping to siphon some of this unbearable pain away. It was too much for him to handle alone.

But his torture was only beginning.

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"Artoo!" Anakin called once he was within the droid's hearing range.

Instantly, Artoo responded.

"Get down here, I need your help!" Anakin barked.

Artoo knew when not to argue. He used his built-in rocket boosters to get out of the droid socket and fly over to Anakin. The Jedi knelt before the droid. "I need your help. Someone took Luke, and all I have is this keycard. Can you scan it for me?"

Artoo bleeped and Anakin held the item up so he could do his part.

"Okay, now I need you to sneak into town and find a computer terminal to plug into." Anakin stood back up, pocketing the card. "See if you can't get a name for the group and where they are."

Artoo set off instantly, moving as swiftly as he could.

Anakin watched him go and was about to give Boomer an assignment as well when a large amount of agony slammed into him like a tidal wave in deep waters, plunging him under the surface instantly.

Anakin dropped with a heavy gasp of air, clutching at his chest as fire raked across it. Anakin continued to feel heightened pain until he had to cut himself off from it.

"...Luke!" Anakin finally gasped, his head aching fiercely.

Red-hot fury flooded Anakin's vision as he realized what he had just felt, and he ground his teeth. When he found whoever had taken his son and was now hurting him...Anakin would make Darth Vader look like a saint...

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Colonel Greta Morin of His Majesty's Empire had to give the young man points for his strength of will. The youth was far more stubborn than she might have ever guessed.

It was no wonder he was able to get the Alderaania woman off the Death Star, but that was as far as her respect for him went.

As she looked upon him now, bleeding, electrocuted and now sporting a good number of lacerations, she decided to try a new tactic.

Moving to stand before him, Greta adopted what she hoped was a sympathetic tone.

"I will admit I am impressed with your stamina." She paused for effect, drawing the drugged young man's attention by doing so. "However, what you have experienced is merely a taste of what else we have in store."

When he remained silent, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you understand me? Things will only get worse. This was only the beginning."

Luke felt like he was being drained, his wounds on fire though not as bad now as they had been when they were inflicted. As much as he wanted it to end, he knew what it would cost to have it end, and that was a price he wasn't willing to pay. He would not-could not-give them what they wanted. Swallowing with great difficulty, Luke shook his head and spoke for the first time. "I won't give you...anything..."

Greta sighed, making a show of shaking her head. "That's really too bad." Gesturing to the man behind the youth, she gave an order. "Proceed with the next phase."

She gave the boy a thin smile. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

At her summons, an AT-AT of a man came around so the boy could see. "I'd like you to meet a man we like to call Scourge."

He nodded to him and he lashed out a meaty fist at the boy's gut.

Luke felt like he'd been hit by an X-Wing at top speeds, the breath rushing out of him on the first blow alone. He didn't get a chance to gather his breath before the next blow came, just as powerful and devastating. They might as well have been punching a hole through Luke, or dropping the Millennium Falcon on him. He couldn't understand how it was possible to feel so much pain! While the blows continued to come, the lacerations he'd already sustained opened further or intensified in the pain they'd already been inflicting on him. Blood splattered to the floor, and after a few blows to the chest and sides, Luke swore he felt something crack-which felt like they'd ripped every one of his ribs out over and over-before he was suddenly racked with a painful bought of wheezing coughs, blood splattering the floor below him as the first sign of serious damage showed itself, blood painting his lips as a metallic taste filled Luke's mouth. He felt like he was going to implode on himself, mind going numb trying to process all of the pain. He didn't even know if he'd been crying out or if he'd lacked the air to do so.

****************************************************************************

Anakin and Boomer were doing everything they could from the X-wing to get information on the planet and any possible leads of suspicious activity. So when a communication came through for. Artoo, Anakin leapt for it, having only found a few oddities.

"Please tell me you found something!" Anakin begged.

Artoo twittered, and the translation came across his screen.

I found out that there is a secret Imperial bunker somewhere near town. Location as of yet unknown. Will try to retrieve.

Anakin growled low in his throat. "All right. I'm going to head back out, see what I can find. And Artoo? Once I have Luke you will need to be prepared to fly his ship for him. We don't know what..." His voice cracked. "What condition he will be in when we find him."

****************************************************************************

Greta called a halt when the youth began spouting up blood. She didn't want him dead yet; she needed information from him still.

"Thank you, Scourge." Greta stepped forward, deftly avoiding the blood on the floor. "Are you ready to cooperate now?"

It would end this pain, a small voice in the back of Luke's head said, but he ignored it, head hanging low as he struggled to control his ragged breathing. Blood was still filling his mouth, though not at an alarming rate...yet. He spat what was in his mouth onto the floor right at her feet, his chest feeling like some sort of acid was eating away at his lungs, his body a living conduit of agony. His face was scrunched up in pain, and he dreaded what was next, but he couldn't...he couldn't...as much as he wanted to...

He moaned, trying to gain his grip on the Force again to disperse some of this pain and allow him some sort of alleviation, but the haze the pain sent over his mind made it difficult to focus.

***************************************************************************

Anakin had changed back into his normal attire, glad for the dark color that would help him blend in better in the growing darkness of nightfall. He kept to the deepest shadows and moved stealthily from building to building, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of the elusive Imperials. Artoo had told him that there were a few abandoned shops and whatnot around town, and something about that had felt right.

Anakin hissed as more of Luke's pain seeped past his barriers. Anakin felt bad for blocking his son so, but Anakin knew he needed to focus on finding Luke, not on feeling more and more of Luke's pain.

He had already scouted a third of the town, but nothing so far had...

"Damned Jedi, he burned my arm!" slurred a voice just around a corner.

Anakin froze at those words and used the Force to deepen the shadow he stood in. A trio of drunken men meandered around the corner, one of them carrying a half-empty bottle of alcohol.

"Well, what did you expect? He was drugged, you idiot," one of the others said.

Anakin's nostrils flared, but he refrained from interrupting or pummeling them. They could lead him to the hidden bunker.

Hopefully before too much time slipped away...

*****************************************************************************

Greta was done being nice.

"Hold him still," she ordered.

Two men held the boy still, and Greta picked up a heavy wooden table leg. She brandished it theatrically.

"I'm told that many a man has used a table leg on a bar fight. It's supposed to deal a mean blow." She leered at the youth. "Why don't we find that out for ourselves?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer. Greta swung the bludgeon up and back for momentum, and then brought it down on the youth's right forearm with as much force as she could muster.

She heard both the satisfying crack of bone and the young man's half-gargled scream.

When the bone in his arm snapped, Luke was effectively rattled, and the first unbidden word slipped past his defenses with his scream, warped by the blood that still clotted his throat and pooled in his mouth. "Father!" he cried out in an instinctive plea for help. He couldn't move without putting his arm in excruciating pain which, when enhanced by that cursed drug, was enough to make Luke's vision go fuzzy around the edges. He couldn't breathe, his muscles and anything vital seeming to freeze every time the arm was jostled. He choked on his own blood for a moment before he managed to clear his throat, gasping for air as his eyes stung, throat raw from all of his screaming.

*****************************************************************************

Anakin staggered when an intense spike of agony made its way past his shields, and he doubled over.

Luke! He thought wildly.

He almost...almost drew his lightsaber on the men who had paused and were now looking around at the new noise, but they still were his best chance at finding Luke...but if he was too late...They would all pay!

****************************************************************************

Greta swung her bludgeon once more and it impacted with his ribs. He screamed again, but the garbled word from before remained a mystery.

Greta motioned to those holding him, and they unchained the youth, brought him to a special chair and strapped him back down.

As she spoke she prepared a wet rag and bucket, which she would have her men administer.

"I will give you another chance, boy," she snarled. "Where are your Rebel friends?"

His breaths came in labored spikes, and he fought weakly when they moved him, his injuries keeping him from effectively resisting. The hand of his good arm clenched the chair in a death grip as he fought back, gasping in pain before they even did anything to him. When her question registered in his mind he grit his teeth, trying-most likely in vain-to prepare himself for what would inevitably follow.

"Just kill me already," he gasped out. "You won't get...anything from me." By some miracle, he managed to force the words out, and though they were warped they were still understandable. Part of him started to surrender to his coming fate, though another part of him remained stubbornly alive and fighting. He wasn't quite sure which part was going to win at this rate.

Greta leaned forward, a superior smirk on her lips. "Oh no, my young Jedi...If I have my way, and then Lord Vader does as well, you won't die for a very long time."

Luke tried not to let her words get under his skin and strike fear into his heart; he would never, ever consciously betray any of the ones the officer wanted him to betray now. Luke fought the grips of the men around him as they approached him, strapping him down in a way that made him dread what was coming while they put a wet rag over his face, securing it over all of his airways and holding it tightly to his face. Already Luke was finding it hard to breathe-even without the rag covering his airways-though now he feared he might suffocate during this next trial.

*****************************************************************************

Anakin felt the new level of warning in the Force and knew his-and Luke's-time was running out. Growling dangerously, Anakin waited for the ones he was following to pass an abandoned building before he Force-shoved them through the doorway.

Anakin followed close behind, slammed the door behind him and turned to the first man in line. He whipped out his lightsaber and put it to the man's throat, using the Force to hold the other two in place.

"Where did they take the blond?"

The drunk man swallowed at the blade as it hovered just above his throat, but he still tried to be brave.

"Somewhere you'll never find him."

******************************************************************************

Greta motioned a sharp command, and the water was poured methodically over the young man's rag-covered face.

Whatever Luke had been expecting, it hadn't been the water over his face. Immediately he gagged, a dangerous thing considering the cloth smothering his face and the blood clogged in his airway. Luke violently jerked against his restraints as he realized they were drowning him slowly and painfully. Full blown panic rose in his chest and Luke screamed unsuccessfully, the sound muffled by the blood and cloth and water, coming out gurgled. He continued to gag and choke as if he was actually under water, his brain pounding from the lack of air as the water was repeatedly poured over his mouth and nose. Luke thrashed against the restraints again in a frenzy to break free, realizing the hard way that holding his breath only made it worse by making him feel like he was being smothered as the cloth tightened. His lungs wanted to burst, his body screaming in agony as his brain shouted at him that he was drowning and he was going to die.

Stop, stop! His mind screamed, though he didn't speak it, bucking against his restraints. To his horror, he felt vomit rise in his throat and he began to choke, unable to breathe from the combination of everything blocking his airway. He could feel his body starting to shut down, feeling his thrashing take on the movements of a man who knew he was about to die, a sickening crack and a new wave of agony from a different source informing him that he'd just broken a wrist trying to break free.

I can't breathe! I need to breathe! Stop! his mind screamed. Please, just kill me already, just let it end!

****************************************************************************

Anakin had already beaten two of the three Imperials unconscious, starting with the one who had the strongest will and leaving the weakest link. The Force was now blaring klaxons in his head, and he was sensing Luke's full-blown panic and fading Force sense.

"Where is he?" Anakin roared, watching the man before him tremble as Anakin methodically lowered the blade closer and closer to his heart.

When the blade was about to pierce him, the Imperial cracked.

"All right! Stop! He's underground!" the man cried out. "Go to the abandoned cafe on the end of the shopping complex and take the black door down! That's as far as I know, I swear it!"

Anakin deactivated his blade and knocked the man out so fast he never saw it coming. The next moment, Anakin was sprinting down the streets, heart pounding when an indescribable anguish from Luke buckled his knees, and Anakin had to force himself back to his feet to keep moving.

*****************************************************************************

Greta motioned for the men to stop, and then waited for her charge to regain enough awareness to make out the white-hot brand she wielded, given to her from a cadet who had been warming the irons up for her since the boy was brought into the bunker. He'd momentarily returned to the room he'd kept the irons, and would be back soon with another gift.

"Hold him!" Greta told the men holding the youth, who got a good solid grip on her victim.

"You're a filthy Jedi, and you will be branded like the animal you are," Greta snarled, giving him no time to retort as she placed the metal to the right side of his chest, just below where the curve of his neck met shoulder.

Luke's chest heaved on instinct, the smell of burning flesh reaching some distant corner of his brain as he screamed at full volume, bucking wildly against his captors despite the further pain it caused him as the hot metal marred his skin, feeling like it was burning right through the tissue to his very heart and soul. He trembled violently and tears streamed down his face, sagging against the metal brand he felt would eat through him and end all of this, vision going black around the edges as his screaming cause more blood to bubble up in his throat, choking him again. It didn't help that one of his holders had a vicelike grip on his throat, partially closing off his airway. The woman pressed herder into his flesh with the brand as if to make sure it would leave its mark and Luke's voice broke with how high he screamed, heart momentarily stopping as the pain overwhelmed him, eyes rolling towards the back of his head.

*******************************************************************************

Anakin cursed loudly when he couldn't immediately find the shop front the man had told him about. Had he played Anakin?

He grimaced when he realized that he had been too distracted by Luke to check the captive in the Force.

That was when something in the Force tugged him left, and he followed without question.

*******************************************************************************

Greta returned the used iron to the cadet who had brought it in for her, examining her work with a critical eye.

"You should feel honored, I suppose, because the mark is the symbol of the Jedi." She shrugged, taking up a second branding iron from the cadet, fresh off of the fire. "However, what would people think if you also had an Imperial insignia...right above the Jedi symbol to mark the Empire's superiority?"

She watched as his wild eyes followed the very slow progress of the new brand towards his lower neck, just above the first brand.

Luke's stomach lurched, gut clenching in fear as he spat out a mixture of blood, water, and vomit, soaked hair falling in his eyes. The man holding him by the neck tightened his grip enough to make Luke gag and choke for air, another hand reaching out and grabbing his jaw to firmly turn his head to the side and fully expose the flesh of his neck. He fought violently before they twisted his broken arm and his vision went black for a few seconds.

The brand came close enough for the heat to sear skin and something in Luke snapped. His gaze rose to the cold Imperial woman, unshed, barely contained tears in his eyes as he uttered his first plea for mercy.

"Please..." he whispered, his flickering voice barely audible. "Don't..."

*********************************************************************************

Anakin felt the clock ticking away mercilessly like the sands in an hourglass as he finally found the store front. There was a man standing by the front door, a disguised guard.

Anakin used the Force to fling him away as he approached, and the guard hit the wall and fell limply to the ground. Anakin was through the entrance the next moment, and he instantly scanned the room. He almost missed the black door, draped on both sides as it was by heavy curtains of the same shade.

There was a keypad to get in, and Anakin fished out the card he had taken from his attacker. He swiped it...nothing happened.

"Blast it!" Anakin shouted.

Stretching out with the Force, Anakin grabbed the door and violently tore it off of its frame with a hideous screech of metal before he blasted it down the stairs hidden behind the door to clear away any oncoming guards. He was descending the stairs before the door even hit the floor.

****************************************************************************

Greta paused at the youth's plea. It was so quiet and weak she almost didn't hear it, but his fear and growing desperation were clear.

She leaned forward pointedly. "Where are the Rebels?"

Luke trembled, eyes closed. What are you doing! His heart screamed him. Don't give them anything! You can't!

The thoughts flashed across his mind, the part of him that was still strong enough to fight searching for an answer that might satisfy her but not give the rebels away. "I..." he gurgled weakly, not quite sure what to say yet and struggling to speak over all of the blood.

Greta motioned dangerously with the brand, bringing if close enough for him to feel the heat without the actual pain.

"You'd better hurry up; I am not going to wait forever," she warned.

Luke recoiled from the metal, teeth grit as his mind finally cleared enough for him to siphon more of his agony into the Force, drawing on it for strength to deny the Imperial at least one more time. Tears stung his eyes as the reality of what would come next settled in.

"I...I can't," he gurgled, gagging against the steel grip on his throat that was probably going to leave a wide array of bruises. The hand that was grasping his jaw tightened and pulled his head as far to the side as it would go, exposing the sensitive skin of his neck and his jugular vein once again. Luke could feel the brand coming closer and he fought violently to break free, only putting himself in further pain.

Greta glared. "You wasted my time, you piece of Jedi filth!"

She motioned Scourge to hold him-the boy would probably need to be restrained by the larger man for this part-and then she touched the brand slowly and deliberately to his skin.

"You Jedi are so weak!" she taunted amidst his wails. "Where is your precious Force now, huh?"

***************************************************************************

Anakin hurtled through hallway after hallway, leaving little burn marks on his way in so he could find his way back out.

An inhuman scream echoed up the corridor and Anakin followed the strongest sound of it, his heart beating in time with his swift footfalls.

***************************************************************************

Placement did matter when delivering pain, because the white hot metal pressed slowly against the sensitive skin of Luke's neck caused him to come undone, his screams reaching a point Luke hadn't even known it was possible for a human to reach. He started to seizure in his captor's grasp, vision fading completely as his eyes rolled into the back of his head once more, heart stopping and restarting as he was consumed. This...this was too much.

"Father!" he screamed, wishing someone would help him as overwhelming despair settled in, followed by crushing hopelessness. He was going to die. "Ben! Anakin! Father!" He screamed, the sound cutting off when the hands on his throat and jaw tightened, pulling his head painfully to the side and exposing more of his neck while the one holding his throat tightened his grip until Luke couldn't breathe. As they did so, the Imperial woman pressed the iron even harder into his neck.

**************************************************************************

"Father!"

The blood-curdling scream sounded feet away and Anakin felt a white-hot rage consume him. He reached into the Force once more and instead of pushing the door in and risk hurting his son, Anakin jerked it toward him and leapt through the doorway, lightsaber lit and ready for anything.

Anything except for the sight that greeted his arrival. A horribly beaten and obviously tortured Luke was being held by a pair of men while a woman in grey held a piece of white-hot iron to his neck.

***************************************************************************

Greta jerked when the door screamed opened and a man matching the description of the one who'd escaped their grab attempt barreled through the wrecked door.

But she wouldn't let this man take her job away without a fight.

***************************************************************************

With a furious roar, Anakin grabbed the woman's torture device and hurled it into the face of the smaller man on Luke's left. The woman, meanwhile, snarled something and produced a wicked-looking blade from somewhere and stabbed it into Luke's side before the huge man hurled the barely-conscious boy into the wall, hard.

The young man collided, his head striking hard enough to knock him out instantly.

All of this happened in the same moment Anakin impaled the woman in the leg, hearing her howl in agony as she tried to stab him in the heart.

Anakin was faster, leaning in with a snarl, completely intent on making her suffer-

Anakin stop!

Anakin faltered, having not yet heard Obi-Wan's voice from beyond the grave. But he shook it off, ready to kill the woman...and the man trying to get to Luke once more.

Anakin, no! Don't repeat what you did when Shmi died!

That stopped him again, and he began to breathe harshly with the difficulty of containing his anguish.

"B-but look what they've done to him!" Anakin cried, not caring about the strange looks he was receiving.

Anakin, don't let Luke see you like this. Do you want to have to explain to him how you killed all these people for him? How would he take that? Don't become like Vader. Anakin, you're not a monster...so don't start being one now!

Anakin's arms trembled, and he gritted his teeth...

Anakin. Obi-Wan's voice was soft now, fatherly like Anakin needed. Luke is the priority, the Imperials can wait. Do the right thing; Luke needs emergency care.

Anakin closed his eyes...and then switched his blade off and knocked the woman out. He then shoved the burly man into the wall far away from his son. The man hit and Anakin slammed the hilt of his lightsaber into his cheek, then banged his head against the wall, making sure he was out cold.

He was by Luke's side in an instant, his heart clenching at the sight of the young boy. He had cuts and hideous bruises all over, as well as soaked hair and the two brands, one more prominent than the other.

Anakin carefully picked him up, trying not to jostle him too badly. He only then saw the broken arm, and he had to fight the urge to go back on his choice to spare the fools who'd hurt his son.

On his way out, Anakin caught sight of a familiar metal object on the woman's belt. He retrieved the lightsaber and made his way outside again as quickly as possible, dispelling of any guards with Force shoves and such until they were out in the streets again.

Anakin broke into a semi-reckless sprint and did not stop until he was at the X-Wings, which were both manned once again by the droids.

"Artoo, fly Luke's ship!" Anakin barked.

He leapt up into his fighter and made an effort to shuffle Luke inside too since the young man couldn't fly. Anakin finally closed the canopy and lifted off the ground, pulling for space at such a sharp angle that the inertial dampeners protested.

He blasted to the jump point and inset the coordinates, then jumped to lightspeed.

"Hold on, Luke, hold on..."

************************************************************************

It was three hours into their flight, and Anakin was exhausted. He had managed to get Luke's stab wound to stop bleeding and now he was trying not to think of what would've happened had he been any later in his arrival. He had already asked Artoo to send a high security message to Leia, asking her have a medic waiting for their arrival.

He sighed, ignoring the heavy weight of Luke in his lap due to the tiny confines of the cockpit. His son was not a burden.

A slight movement from Luke caught Anakin's full attention, and he gazed down upon Luke's battered visage, wondering if the young man would wake.

************************************************************************

Han and Leia were arguing off by the door that led out of the bridge of the Promise over whether or not Han would stay and continue to help out the Rebellion or if he was going to go and pay off Jabba the Hutt when a breathless cadet suddenly rushed towards them, nearly running into the pair when he saw they were standing in the doorway.

"Hey, slow down, you could hurt somebody," Han scolded him as he put a hand to the cadet's chest, steadying the breathless man. The man blushed, though his wide eyes riveted to Leia.

"Princess, the Redemption just received an emergency contact addressed to you telling us to prepare to take a patient in critical condition; it's Skywalker."

*************************************************************************

Luke didn't want to wake up. There was too much pain for him to wake up, and it was still difficult to breathe. No sooner had that thought crossed his stirring mind did he give a rattling cough that cleared the blood currently in his airway-no promise about any oncoming blood-and set his body aflame with new pain. He cried out, though didn't get far into a reflex before his arm and wrist flared in pain again at being disturbed, cutting his cry off as the rest of his injuries rushed back at him; his neck, the spot on his throat he'd been held, his lacerations, his arm, his leg (especially that old but reopened leg wound), his torso where he'd been beaten, his head where he'd hit the wall, and his side where he thought he remembered being stabbed before the world went dark. His head spun, and he was sure he was either going to be sick again from the pain or pass out once more.

Anakin flinched at the splattering of blood that hit his face when Luke coughed. He didn't mind the blood so much as the thought that it had come from his son.

"Luke?"

Luke stilled at the gentle, familiar voice, so different from the harsh reality he'd been in for...well...he didn't know how long. Luke slowly sucked in a shaky breath, hardly daring to hope that his nightmare was over. The last thing he wanted was false hope simply so it could be crushed by the Imperial woman bringing a new wave of pain.

"Father?" he whispered, recoiling at how raspy and weak his voice was before he tried to open his eyes.

Anakin cringed inwardly at Luke's pained tones, and he ached when he felt Luke's concern that this was another Imperial trick.

Gently, he shifted a lock of his son's hair so he could feel-hopefully-reassured.

"Yes, Son, it's me," he spoke gently.

Luke's vision finally cleared and settled on Anakin, simply to be blurred by tears in the next moment as he leaned into the tender contact, relief rushing through his injured, broken body as he struggled to hold back tears. A few still raced past his efforts and trailed down his face.

"You found me..." he croaked, turning into his father's comforting embrace with the need of someone who had believed they were going to die, rescued right from the jaws of death.

Anakin bit his lip hard in an effort not to also cry, but it was no use. The tears refused his control, and Anakin cradled Luke to him as firmly as he dared.

"Oh Luke!" Anakin hiccupped a sob. "I'm so sorry! I f-failed you! I should have never let you go a-alone!"

Luke shook his head. "N-no, that couldn't be helped," he whispered. "What matters is that you came...you didn't fail me F-father...you saved me..." Luke replied, clutching his father as tightly as he could with his injuries. His chest and neck burned and ached and were nearly unbearable, but Luke set the sensation aside. Right now he just wanted to be held by his father and told that he was safe, that it was going to be all right, as childish as that want may seem for someone his age.

Anakin kissed Luke on the head. "Yes..."

And Obi Wan saved me, Anakin thought.

Sensing Luke's need for comfort, Anakin gave what he could. He tightened his hold on Luke and whispered to him. "Rest now, my son...you're safe. I won't let them hurt you again." Anakin squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "I love you, and I'll keep you safe."

Luke trembled in his father's grasp, though finally it wasn't because he was afraid; his chest and neck were still burning, but Luke ignored them still, albeit with greater difficulty this time. Instead, he drank in his father's words, allowing them to act as a balm for the emotional and psychological scars that would obviously follow from this experience.

That thought had just crossed his mind when he remembered the trauma he'd experienced just before his father had arrived. Dread coursed through his veins and his wrist flared painfully as Luke fearfully raised his hand with the broken wrist to feel his chest, ignoring the spots that appeared in his vision from moving the broken limb as he felt the raised, sensitive, marred skin where the first symbol he hadn't recognized had been branded to his flesh, a strangled sound growing in his chest as his fingers painfully splayed out a little higher to feel the second, much fresher and far more painful brand on his neck of the Imperial insignia. Luke couldn't take his hand away from the symbols as a sob escaped him, sagging against his father and weeping brokenly into the other man's chest while he tried to fight off the scarring memories that wanted to swirl to the surface. He brought himself as close as he could to Anakin to try and shut out the galaxy, finally breaking as he'd wanted to do so long ago during the interrogation.

Anakin didn't sob, but nor were his eyes dry. His cheeks carried miniscule waterfalls as he wept with his broken child.

"You're safe, now..." he said again, noting the timer on his navicomputer. They were still an hour out.

Anakin let Luke cling to him and he held the youth in turn, willing his pain away. Anakin did ease Luke's physical pain, but he could not do much for the internal scars this experience would undoubtedly leave.

So he simply held his son.

***********************************************************************

To say Darth Vader was displeased would be putting it lightly.

Hearing that the youthful son of the powerful Jedi-and also the pilot who'd destroyed the Death Star, though Vader had made it a point to keep that fact to himself-had already been captured and was being put through interrogation until Vader arrived to take over had been the first piece of good news he'd received in too long. He actually hadn't been in a dark murdering mood. At least he hadn't until he heard that the father had come and broken the boy out single-handedly not even half an hour before Vader had arrived.

After hearing that, he was definitely in a murdering mood, and he already had left a body in his wake for every hall and room he passed, a raging storm of fury.

However, he did slow as he approached the room the boy had been kept in, the officer that had been carrying out the interrogation inside. Vader could sense the agony the boy had suffered in this room as if it was filling the space like a poisonous gas, and he could also sense the dark rage of the father when he had finally found his son.

They were feelings he relished in, and he took a moment to savor the suffering before he returned to business, approaching the officer who was standing at attention as Vader entered despite the lightsaber wound right in her thigh. Vader's helmeted head took in the blood spattered everywhere, the vomit on the floor, the water pooled around the chair at the center of the room, and the scorch marks from the lightsaber before he addressed the officer.

"Tell me what happened here, and do not leave out any of the details; I want to know what you did to the boy, every word that passed his lips, how well he took each torture, anything he let slip while you were interrogating him, and everything-including every word and action and an accurate and detailed description-about his rescuer. Do not leave anything out, no matter how unimportant you think it may be; nothing is unimportant, and nothing is insignificant."

Greta swallowed. "Yes, Lord Vader. The pair was reported by a hotel worker and we jumped them at two separate cantinas, but the older of the two got away..." she began, going into every detail as she'd been asked-ordered-to do.

It took a long time, during which the armored giant before her didn't move a muscle.

"The boy uttered very few words, but he did say three names: Father, Ben, and Anakin," she went on. "And by the time the older man arrived he was calling all three names. The older man was tall, I'd say in the six-foot range maybe? Blue eyes, dark blond hair that went to his shoulders, and he carried a blue lightsaber."

Anakin.

That single word rang in his mind, freezing his blood in his veins. Everything else was tucked away for later examination-the boy's impressive perseverance and apparent weaknesses included-as Vader tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Did he have a scar over his right eye and a black glove on his right arm that went up to his elbow?" Vader finally rumbled, suddenly much more interested in the blood all over the room. He still hadn't moved; he hadn't even tilted his helmet in the slightest, every muscle and metal component in his body rigid in anticipation.

Catching the newfound interest in the Dark Lord's mannerisms, Greta nodded, thinking there was a possibility she'd walk away alive today. And if he still killed her, then at least she knew she'd done her job to the best of her abilities; she'd die with dignity.

"Yes, My Lord," she answered. "He also was a good Force user; he took both the doors off their hinges and he knocked out most of my men while carrying the boy."

"If you have any footage anywhere of this man, any image at all, I want to see it. Have a sample of the boy's blood run through the system and get me a name. If there's anything at all that could give me a DNA sample of the older man, give it to me; do not run it or you will not live long enough to realize what your mistake was," Vader growled, watching her leave the room with the requested blood sample like she'd been lit on fire. Once he was certain she was gone, he examined the room around him, running a hand over a rather large blood splatter on the wall and examining every trace the boy had left in the room. He didn't see any sign of the older of the two besides the broken door.

Greta didn't argue with her superior. She collected a blood sample and ran it herself, thought she had nothing DNA-wise on the older man. She did, however, manage to get a fleeting glimpse of him on a security camera in one hallway.

She'd had no idea Jedi could move that fast...

It took a while, but she finally was able to return with the data and holo like he'd requested. "My Lord, the boy's name appears to be Luke Skywalker, though the name given at the hotel was Lars..." she shrugged. "And the man, he was moving quite fast, but we did get a little bit of his face."

Greta handed the datapad over and waited for the worst.

Vader felt himself go into shock as he stared down at the information he held in his hands, staring first at the youthful, blue eyed blonde in the picture beside the information on Luke...Luke Skywalker, native from Tatooine, nineteen years of age, and born on that very same day Vader had cursed for nineteen years due to the fact he'd been put in this blasted suit and lost his Angel that day.

As much as it made sense to deny what was in his very hands, the Force allowed no room for Vader to doubt that this...this was his very flesh and blood, the child he had thought died in his mother's womb. Rage shook Vader's frame as he realized that the Emperor had lied to him all those years ago. Vader could not have killed Padme if his child was alive and well. She must have lived long enough to deliver the child, and the Jedi must have kept the boy in hiding all of these years.

But no more. No, his child would come to his side, as was rightfully so.

Before Vader could direct his rage anywhere, his gaze was drawn to the image of his son's older companion, the one who had rescued him...the one he had called Father on the Death Star.

As much fury as that thought brought, Vader's rage was momentarily stopped by the image in front of him. Though it had been nineteen years, Vader could not forget the face...his face just before Mustafar.

But nor could he believe it.

No, there had to be some mistake, some deceit...though if the Jedi had set up a false father for Vader's son-as enraging as the thought was-wouldn't they have picked someone older, and not someone that looked exactly as Vader had nineteen years ago? It made no sense; this man could not be Luke's father, because Vader was his father. He would not allow his son to be blinded by such lies from the Jedi; he would expose this impostor, and whether his child wanted to or not Vader would have Luke by his side. Together, they would finally usurp the Emperor and rule the galaxy, just as Vader had once offered his wife.

Just as he was processing these two basic facts, several details clicked together in Vader's brain.

Luke, his son.

Luke, the one who had been captured and interrogated.

Luke, the one whose blood smeared these very walls.

Luke, who Vader knew had suffered greatly at the hands of the woman right beside him; she had nearly killed him-if the boy had even survived the trip back to the Rebels, wherever they were.

Luke, who had been branded like cattle, like a slave, in this very room not even hours ago by the woman standing right beside him.

With those thoughts, Vader's building rage at these impossible discoveries boiled over, centering on the woman beside him. He lashed out with the dark side blindly, hardly even thinking about anything but that the woman beside him suffer and die for what she had done to his son. Her screams filled the torture chamber as Luke's undoubtedly had before dissolving into a pathetic gurgle, and Vader was left to silence once more.

He did not linger to enjoy the silence.

He had much to do.