Heroes of Our Time

Chapter 1 - Peace Talks

This fanfic randomly came to me when I was looking at the things Destril (on ao3) likes in Vader-Luke fics, so I went ahead and wrote it. Yes, I know that there's probably usually only one gift in exchanges, but I decided to write it for Destril anyways as a second gift. ;)

I'm not planning to expand this into a longer length fic, however, I will accept requests for other scenes which you might like to see, which I'll write up as one-shots. If there's something you'd want in particular, just let me know! :)

Enjoy! :D

~ Amina Gila

Luke Skywalker creeps down the hallways soundlessly, melding into the shadows as though he's one of them. This is it. This is his chance to avenge himself for his father's murder. Perhaps the galaxy at large is incapable of recognizing – or unwilling to recognize – that Darth Vader is a murderer and a monster, but he does. The peace talks between the Empire and Rebel Alliance, which have only just begun, can't be anything more than a fraud, a carefully crafted plot by the new Emperor to destroy the Rebellion, the threat to his ultimate power.

Perhaps he's being foolish and rash, but he has to do this. It might be against everything which Uncle Ben has taught him – it is against everything which he's been taught. How can he simply sit back and watch as the only group of people who are willing to stand up to the Empire's injustices are destroyed? No. He can't. He won't. If Leia knew what he was doing, she'd be furious at him. She's a freedom fighter, like their mother, and while she might not mind Luke committing cold-blooded murder like this, she would still object to the timing.

Leia Amidala Skywalker. His twin sister, who is absolutely younger than him. They first met nearly two years ago when Luke and Uncle Ben joined the Rebellion, a year before Luke piloted the mission that destroyed the Death Star. Had he moved even a second slower, the rebel base on Yavin IV would have been wiped out and Leia with it.

He'll protect his sister to his dying breath if he must. She's all he has left after their mother was poisoned by the previous Emperor, and their father died at Vader's hands. Aunt Sabe, one of his mother's most trusted handmaidens – and the one who rescued both of them from the Emperor and likely death – raised her to be a wonderful person, just as Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru helped raise Luke along with Uncle Ben. If only they could have grown up together. If only they could have had a real family, one unbroken by the Empire.

"I'm sorry, Leia," he whispers. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ben, but I have to do this."

Slowly, he presses the button to open the door to Vader's quarters. Surprisingly, there isn't a massive amount of security, probably because Vader is confident in his ability to protect himself. That's a mistake. All Luke has to do is inject him with the fast-acting drug in the syringe he has concealed in his left hand, and the Emperor will be dead within an hour. There isn't an antidote, at least not one which is readily available.

On second thought, maybe he should have contacted Aunt 'Soka, the former apprentice of his father, Anakin Skywalker, and the one who gave Leia some basic Force training. She might have been able to provide him with necessary insight as to his current situation, even if she is half across the galaxy with Uncle Ben, searching for the Jedi Ezra Bridger in the Unknown Regions. Hopefully, this mission won't backfire too terribly. It shouldn't. Luke considered all the possible outcomes, and he knows that if he succeeds, everything will be fine.

Luke triple-checks his shields, ensuring that he's entirely cloaked in the Force as he stalks forwards on silent feet, moving like a predator towards its unsuspecting prey. Just a little bit closer... Now.

He can see the figure lying on the bed, back towards him, though it's hard to see given the darkness in the room. Apparently, the rumors about Vader being a droid are false, because the man in front of him is as human as he is. Luke swiftly reaches out, but another hand stops him. He jerks back instinctively, trying to wrench himself free. It's useless; Vader's grip seems to be made of durasteel – it is durasteel. He can feel the prosthetic digging into his wrist, and he dimly notes that it will leave bruises.