I wish to thank jedi1952 for the betareading of this fiction. Telling she did a great work is an understatement, because she fixed my poor English and also helped me to improve the scenes and characters, pointing out with precision where problems were. I owe her a lot.

DECLARATION: This fiction is written just for fun and I'm not making money with it. Characters and Star Wars galaxy belong to Lucasfilm and Disney, of course. For original characters and places, I used names taken from the real world, but I chose them just because they sound good in this fiction and so they aren't related to any real person or historical fact: any resemblance is purely coincidental.

NOTE: This fiction is a sequel to my previous Abduction. If you didn't read it, this is what you need to know to follow this story:

Luke was found out by father when he is 3 years old and raised as a Sith apprentice. When he's 18, he is ordered to abduct Leia from her home, because Vader wants to question her. He accomplishes this, but, while she's in his custody, she's able to cast doubts in him. After she is questioned by Vader, the Dark Lord orders Luke to kill her. But Leia persuades him to escape with her. During their flight, Luke duels with his father and loses, being gravely wounded, as she runs away. So he remains with Vader and he's forgiven.

CHAPTER 1

Twenty-year-old Luke struggled against the urge to yawn and kept his martial attitude. It seemed to him that he had been standing for days up on the command deck of Death Star, although it was just a few hours.

Admiral Motti was checking, for the nth time, the fire procedure with the engineers and officers. Tarkin oversaw the works, impatient to try out his pet project. Vader stayed on his own: a menacing, looming, dark shadow. At every minor setback, officers fearfully wondered how angry the Sith Lord was at the unavoidable problems that a first test of a new big battle station gave and they were frightened at the mere idea of his sudden intervention. They couldn't guess that, in the Force, he broadcasted a feeling of deep boredom that could compete with his son's. To be wholly truthful, the man under the impassive black mask was trying not to fall asleep. That was slightly funny for Luke, the only person on the deck who could sense it, and it was his exclusive entertainment at the moment.

On the screen, the shape of Eboli was lonely over the starry background. The planet had a human body compatible gravity, but it was the most desolate place Luke had ever seen. A singular satellite of a cold star, it hadn't a breathable atmosphere, but a mix of fatal gas for any living being. Its cold and desert ground offered no vegetation. It was a perfect experimental planet to try out the fire power. The young Sith hadn't been told much about this Death Star and what kind of test they were going to perform. However, having seen some tests performed on new or refitted Star Cruisers, even of the Executor, he knew about what to expect.

As soon as the engineers were fairly sure they could start the laser without overburdening the station, they would shoot at the surface. Then telemetric data of width, height and the depth of damages would confirm or not the achievement of the planned fire power.

He was always a bit shaken, when fire reached the surface, because it was suddenly clear how a middle town could be blown with a single shot, Rebels with common citizens, soldiers along with children. So, looking at the desolated holes caused by the tests, he tried to keep in mind they shot practically just enemy ships. At least… usually they did.

He felt excitement growing between the engineers and he understood finally they were ready. He stopped his musings and focused his attention.

"We are ready to shoot," one man confirmed.

On the deck, the murmurs faded into silence and everybody turned to the screen, where the bare shape of Eboli was silhouetted. Tarkin went back to his command position in the middle of room. His steps echoed, timing seconds. He reached Vader and he turned to the screen, ordering: "Fire!"

The hugest blinding laser shot Luke had ever seen started from their battle station. It hit the planet. The planet burst into myriad of pieces. In its place, the emptiness. The young Sith blinked, guessing his eyes didn't work well. The emptiness. Where once there had been a planet, now there was just the emptiness. It wasn't an illusion. The full understanding of what he had just witnessed came into his consciousness and his mind followed the implications. Eboli could have been habitable for its dimension, apart its venomous atmosphere. Eboli wasn't smaller than Coruscant, Naboo or Alderaan. If Eboli had been blown up in a shot, Coruscant, Naboo or Alderaan could as well.

The murmur grew again among officers and engineers commenting on the good results of the test, but for him they were just far away noises. Nothing made sense anymore. He turned to watch Tarkin: his icy eyes looked forward and a cold smile curled his thin lips. "As soon as we test it on a populated planet, fear of this battle station will keep the Local Systems in line," he was telling Vader.

So, Luke had understood well: the plan was to use that fire power fully. He had been a fool: how superficially he had considered this battle station before! The Empire wouldn't spend so many resources just for few surface damages; there were enough Star Destroyers for that. He turned again to the empty space on the screen. He felt dizzy: he didn't breathe well and his mouth was dry. Suddenly he heated up, he was stifling and he couldn't help but widen his tunic collar. He forced himself to sigh deeply to calm down.

He became aware how upset he appeared. He immediately let go of his collar and straightened in a more martial pose. His eyes looked around furtively, but no one seemed to have noticed. Indeed he feared just one person's opinion in that room. He turned again.

"Don't be too proud about this technological terror you have constructed. It is the Force that binds the Galaxy together," his father was saying to Tarkin.

Luke tried to discreetly probe the Sith Lord's feelings, but his shields were up, his mood unintelligible. He couldn't understand the reason for such sudden privacy, but, given circumstances, it was just fine and he brought up his own shields, too.

Now he had to look for any excuse to immediately run out from that room, before he was taken ill in front of everybody. He pretended the most casual attitude he could in his present state, and neared to Vader. "I should check the new experimental weapons for TIE fighters. I ask permission to go in the development room, my Lord."

"You are excused," the Sith Lord answered, not giving him much attention.

Luke bowed his head slightly and turned to the exit door. He directed his steps to development room, but, before he reached it, he entered the first refresher he ran across and locked himself inside.

Finally alone, all his self-control broke. He went to the sink, leaned on it and, grabbing its border with his hands to steady himself, he threw up. He raised his gaze to the mirror in front of him. In the reflected image of himself he saw nothing, but a murderer in a station commanded by murderers, who were planning to blow up whole planets. It wasn't a nice view and he immediately lowered his eyes to the sink. Tears wetted them and, for the first time in many years, he allowed himself to cry, sobbing like a child.

That made him feel a little better and a thought caught him: he had to do something to stop that horror.

But what? What could he do? Who would be so foolish to fight the Empire?

Apparently a lot of people, giving the endless war against the Rebels. For a moment, it seemed to him he could almost understand them. Maybe they had enough military force to stop the Death Star, if they were given the right information.

Fear suddenly overcame him and he checked again his shields. Was he really thinking of giving information to the enemies, betraying his own blood? But had he alternatives? He shook his head: he hadn't. Either he would contact the Alliance or he would be the silent accessory to destruction of every planet Tarkin disliked.

He again raised his gaze to the mirror, searching his own eyes. An unknown resolution flashed in them, the resolution of a free man. Every feeling of fear and loyalty seemed to be swept suddenly away by that view. His hold on the sink border grew: he knew he could, if he wanted. He turned on the tap, quickly washing away the mess he had done. He rinsed his face to hide the hints of his previous upset. He went out of the refresher and directly to the development room: he was lucky he had been yet allowed to go there.

No, he silently scolded himself, luck didn't exist, but the Force.

The development room hadn't security cameras. It could seem strange, but that gave a major discretion for data: in fact, in that way, there were no shots of new drawings or input passwords. Security was assured by a restricted access: personal identity badges recorded the bunch of authorized people's entrances and exits. Luke was aware he had to be careful to cover his hacking, when he put his own badge under the reader to open the door.

As he had foreseen, no one was in the room at the moment, because all engineers were on the command deck. Yet, he was aware he had to act as fast as possible. He sat in front of the desk for the arming of ships, loaded the development program and input his password to log in. The main window opened and he selected his last session from the toolbar. The drawing of TIE fighter new weapon specifications appeared on the screen: it would be his cover, if someone suddenly arrived.

He reinforced his mind shields and went to the shelves of small hardware, rummaging among the memory cards. He chose one of the smallest and looked for a cable. From the main desk reserved to Death Star development, he took a datapad and went back to his own desk, sitting down. He loaded the operative system in safe mode and connected the memory card through the cable.

Here he was! From now on, he had to ponder well how to proceed.

First of all, he was the only person in the room at the moment and he had been recorded by the badge. So, he selected the system date and forced it back four days, when he hadn't landed in the Death Star hangar yet.

Now, he could safely load the download program. The running stopped, requiring a password to go on. He didn't dare to input his own, he wasn't suicidal!, but he knew no other one. He had to search one inside someone's mind, avoiding alerting his father. He extended his feelings out of the room and met Vader's strong presence a couple of decks above. He probed him very softly not to be noticed. At the moment, the Dark Lord's attention was wholly taken by his interlocutor, his attitude was a fearful submission. Luke was well aware that just one person in the Galaxy could arouse such feeling in his father: Palpatine. That was good, because, as long the debriefing to Coruscant went on, a careful activity in the Force wouldn't be detected.

So, the problem was: whom to use? He couldn't focus his memory on any particular engineer. Tarkin? He had met him enough, but he wasn't surely weak-minded. He needed someone else. He remembered people on the deck, Admiral Motti checking the fire procedure. He hadn't given him much attention, but he guessed he could find him. He let go his hurry and relaxed passively, feeling the people's self-consciousness' whispers around him. It was almost a light harmony filling him with inner peace. That technique to bathe in the Force was always used secretly, because it made his father mad, since it was an abominable way for a Sith. Yet, it worked great for Luke and he had trained a lot in it behind the Dark Lord's back. And, in fact, he soon contacted Motti's mind. He sent him the image of the development program first window and the password bounced back.

The young Sith withdrew his feelings inside the room again and grunted, in a bad try to stifle a laugh. He turned back to the pad and input: "GrandMoffConanAntonioMotti". Luke chuckled to himself at Admiral Motti's ego. It was obvious that Motti thought himself more worthy than he was.

A long file list was shown on the screen. He scrolled it up and down, looking for the right one. The meanings of the names weren't clear to him:ckSw34. tgb, tfWpSw. tgb, DcrSc56. thx, EncrTf12-58. ipt, ScScm122. iss, SvSvm56. iss, McImDs85-652. mos,… Impossible to understand. He searched the toolbar for a way to open some kind of details, but he didn't find any command. However in the menu, View, there was the command Size. He flagged it.

Next the column of names, the byte counts of each file was shown. He looked for the biggest one. Its name was EncDSP3-89. ipt. Luke guessed DSP was acronym for Death Star Plans, 3-89 was surely the version and he knew ipt was the extension of Star Station Development Program files. He had probably found it. He started the download to the memory card. The icon of the copy began to flash: 5% complete, 10% complete…

He pondered on the first letters of the name: Enc. Encrypted? Probably. When he completed the download, he would have to search the decrypting program.

A sudden tremor in the Force alerted him. He extended his feelings to understand the source. His father's attention wasn't taken by the Emperor anymore and he was nearing the deck.

He checked the download: 70% complete.

He stood up, holding the datapad; went back the desk where he had taken it from.

80% complete.

He kept his shields tightly up and probed Vader again. Now Vader was on this same deck and he was clearly annoyed. Had he felt something?

I'm serene, I'm serene, he repeated mentally, trying to cast that thought out and hiding any other emotion. I'm checking the TIE fighter plans. The new weapons are interesting.

90% complete.

Now, he felt the Dark Lord nearing the development room. He could almost see him striding fast as usual through corridors.

Download complete.

He sighed in relief. He disconnected the cable and literally threw it on the self, from where he had taken it. He minimized the download program, opened again the operative system manager and set the date back to now. He abruptly turned off the pad, not caring to close the programs and left it on the main desk, next to other ones. He went back to his own desk and hid the memory card in an inner pocket of his tunic.

He felt his father just outside the door.

He sat down and watched the program showing the TIE fighter plans, trying to wholly cancel from his memory what has just done and keep his attention on the data on the screen. He had to think them interesting. They were interesting.

The sliding door opened and he heard the unmistakable noise of the breathing apparatus. With pretentious calm, Luke stood up and turned to his father, bowing his head to greet him.

"I was just ordered by the Emperor to fly immediately back to Coruscant," Vader told him. "Our presence is indisputably requested next week." Annoyance was clear beneath his tone.

The younger Sith struggled to keep quiet. What had caused that feeling in the Dark Lord? Did he suspect something? "When are we taking off?" he asked neutrally.

"In half an hour. You must pick up your things from your room immediately and go to main hangar," his father instructed.

He couldn't hide his amazement at such hurry.

"We will speak about it, when on the Executor, young one," the Dark Lord answered his unasked question.

It seemed, automatically, a menace to Luke's guilty conscience, but he didn't feel anger towards him. Puzzled about what was awaiting him, he nodded obediently.