I don't own Star Wars in any way.

The Death Star

In orbit around Alderaan

Darth Vader strode down the corridor leading to the command center of the Death Star.

Directly in front of him marched the tiny form of Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, her posture still regal in spite of her bonds, her spirit still rebellious in spite of the hours of interrogation at his hands.

In front of her, two black clad guards led the way.

(Rather an insult, that. As if he couldn't handle this girl on his own. But there were rules on the Death Star about prisoner transfers, and it wasn't worth the headache of fighting them, no matter how stupid they were.)

The guards turned a corner, Princess Leia turned a corner, Darth Vader turned a corner, and then all halted in astonishment.

Directly in front of the small group was a short, slight young man, blond, blue eyed, dressed in what appeared to be Tatooine desert attire.

Behind the youth, a few meters down the corridor, stood a roguish looking dark haired man wearing, among other things, Corellian bloodstripes.

And beside him stood a giant Wookiee.

Behind them, the blast doors were shut tight. Based on the blinking red lights, one of these idiots had disabled the locking mechanism.

The Dark Lord shook his head slightly, incredulous at these morons' profound stupidity. One did not deliberately lock oneself in with Darth Vader, not if you had more than a few brain cells functioning.

Vader twitched irritably even as the two guards, who had apparently been too flummoxed to react quickly, finally managed to lift their blasters and start firing.

Here things actually got interesting, because the young man promptly lit a lightsaber (the blade was blue, Vader noted) and successfully deflected the bolts.

A moment later, the boy lifted his left hand and gestured toward first one and then the other guard.

Both, to Vader's surprise and astonishment, promptly hurled themselves into the wall and then slid to the floor, either unconscious or dead.

And as if all this wasn't surprising enough, the huge, enormous, supernova of the youth's Force presence suddenly bloomed in Vader's consciousness.

A smile crossed the hidden, and scarred, face. The last days, weeks, and months had been quite incredibly dull. To have a strong, hostile Force sensitive pop up on the Death Star of all places was more than Vader had hoped for.

With his left hand, he shoved Leia Organa against the wall (though not hard enough to do damage), even as he lit his red lightsaber with his right hand. He would not demean himself by using her as a shield, or a hostage. He was a warrior. As for the young man, it remained to be seen who, or what, he was.

He waited for the child to attack.

But the youth did not attack. The blue eyes gazed, then grew wide, and then ...

"You are ridiculously tall!"

Vader blinked. What?

"That is hardly relevant, young one," he hissed menacingly, stepping forward.

(Absently, he noted that Organa had scurried past the young man and was now having her manacles removed by the Corellian.)

The boy shook his head, then scowled.

"It's just not fair," he responded petulantly. "Why did I have to be short like my mother?"

Vader found himself biting his inner cheek in vexation. He had hoped for an interesting duel as it had been years since he'd had even a moderate challenge. But apparently this child was insane.

"Your mother?" he repeated wearily.

"Yes, you know, Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker?" the boy said, raising his eyebrows. "Your wife?"

There was a squeak of shock from Leia Organa and every muscle in Vader's body, mechanical and biological alike, froze incredulously.

A part of him was full of rage, another part hurt, another part confusion, another part longing, another part blank stupidity.

After a long minute ticked by ...

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he heard himself say numbly. Not for the first time, he was thankful for the vocoder. His voice was deep and intimidating as usual, not hurt, not ... hopeful ...

"No, you are," the boy said boldly. "My name is Luke Skywalker. I am your son. I was born a few hours after you and Ben Kenobi fought on Mustafar and you were burned by lava and all that. My mother tragically died in childbirth. I was born early but healthy, as was my twin. You've just been wrong for 19 years about what happened back then. But then, you are wrong about a crazy number of things."

Darth Vader found so many thoughts jostling around that he didn't even know where to start. What to think. And certainly not what to do.

But one thing was certain, the Force was screaming in his mind that this was truth. This boy, incredibly enough, unbelievably enough, impossibly enough, was his son.

His son was alive. Alive …

He turned off his red blade, moved forward a meter, even as the boy, apparently more bold than sensible, turned off his own lightsaber.

(Absently, Vader realized the saber was ... Anakin Skywalker's, lost at Mustafar.)

He reached out a gauntleted hand and touched the boy's cheek.

Again, indicating he was either extremely courageous or ridiculously optimistic, Luke Skywalker didn't flinch.

"My son," Vader murmured softly, even reverently.

Pause.

"Wait. A twin?"

Luke nodded insouciantly, and turned to look behind him.

"Yeah, incredibly enough, Princess Leia is my twin sister and your biological daughter," he said matter of factly.

There was another gasp of astonishment from the Princess, and Vader froze again, reached out with the Force, this time in horror.

"Yes, she is your daughter," the Force whispered to him. The Force had long had a tiresome habit of appearing in his mind's eye in sentient form: often as Palpatine, sometimes as Padme, sometimes as his mother, at least once as Gardulla the Hutt (ugh.) Now the Force appeared as the aged, and irritating, Master Yoda – his green, wispy ears drooping; his eyes filled with gloomy disapproval.

"Just who in the stars and galaxies are you? And how dare you so much as suggest that I am that ... that black behemoth's ..." Organa snarled, then stopped, her fine eyes narrowing.

"I see," she said softly. "This is some kind of stupid Imperial trick, though it really is asinine. You couldn't get the Rebel base from me through typical means, and now you're ... you're ..."

Her brow furrowed, "No, wait. It's all just too stupid. You must be insane or something."

The boy (Luke) looked at her, those blue, expressive eyes apologetic, "I apologize. That was not a great way to tell you, I know. But I figured if he knows you are his daughter, he probably won't cut you in half absentmindedly."

"I am Princess Leia Organa," the girl responded, her eyes flashing (with Padme's fire, Vader realized as his stomach suddenly clenched in pain), "Daughter of Alderaan. Daughter of Bail and Breha Organa..."

"So you didn't know you were adopted?" Luke asked compassionately.

She froze, a muscle in her right cheek twitching.

"I see you did," the boy said quietly. "But you didn't know the truth about your parentage."

"It is not the truth," she shouted aloud. "It is not true that Lord Darth Vader ..."

(Her voice contained such venom that the Dark Lord flinched slightly.)

"That the man who tortured me for hours is my biological father. It is not true."

Luke gasped and paled, then turned to his father.

"You tortured her? You tortured my sister?"

"That really is cruddy," the Corellian said, speaking for the first time, "to torture your own daughter."

There was a roar from the Wookiee, and the man spoke again with a nod, "Crass, even."

"I did not know ..." Vader said in what even he was willing to admit was a feeble voice.

"Lame," the Corellian said with a disapproving frown.

"I. Am. Not. His. Daughter!" Organa snapped.

Luke suddenly jerked and gestured to the human male, "Open the door, Han."

The man promptly entered some kind of code and the door slid open to reveal ...

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!" Vader bellowed, starting forward even as his sword sprang to life.

To his astonishment, his son promptly lit his own sword and blocked his way.

"No, no, no, no, no," the boy said. "No fighting in a narrow corridor with both your kids in the way. It's just not going to work. I'm not the greatest fighter in the galaxy but I know it's best to have the right environment for fighting, like on floating rocks in lava or something ..."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Leia interrupted, gazing at the old man in the robes as if Nabooian diamonds had suddenly rained down on her from above. "I recognize you from your holo! What is going on here? Who is this crazy person claiming to be ..."

"Your brother?" Obi-Wan asked, even as he placed a gentle arm around the girl. "He is your twin brother, Princess. I know that's a shock, but Luke's a fine young man. Your father is a mess, I'm afraid, physically, emotionally, and spiritually."

"And who is responsible for my physical form, old man," Vader inquired rigidly, his hands clenched.

Leia wasn't listening to him. Her face was pale, her pupils dilated, "It can't ... it can't be. He tortured me, Obi-Wan. He ripped into my mind to try to find the Rebel base ..."

Kenobi turned a horrified gaze on Vader, "Anakin, really, you tortured your own daughter? Disgusting."

"I didn't know!" he howled indignantly, only to be drowned out by a chorus of roars and censorious mutterings from the males in the corridor.

To his startled relief, Leia Organa broke into this litany of verbal criticism.

"Never mind all that," she said firmly, "it still seems impossible, the whole family thing, but whatever. Perhaps you're all Imperials trying to mess with my mind, though that doesn't feel right to me, and I've learned to trust my feelings. Now what?"

"We're here to rescue you, Leia," Luke said, bestowing a loving smile on his newly met twin.

"And what about him?" she demanded, pointing a disdainful figure at Vader. "Where does he fit in to this grand escape plan of yours?"

The boy turned hopeful eyes on Vader's mask. The Dark Lord felt a wave of dizziness. The face was much like that of the young Anakin Skywalker, but the pleading look was the very image of Padme's expression when she really wanted something from him.

(He had a dim, painful memory of a misadventure in the kitchen when she had mentioned, pathetically, how long it had been since she'd eaten good Nabooian crabs. The apartment had required a week of clean up after the crabs in question caught fire and the sprinklers came on.)

"Maybe he will let us go?" the boy asked expectantly.

Vader shook himself out of his bewilderment, even as he lit his lightsaber.

"No, you will stay here with me, both of you," he said firmly, then winced inwardly as a wave of fear emanated from the princess.

"I do not wish to harm you but you cannot leave," he continued.

Belatedly, he pressed a button, summoning troops to his aid. He then added, "And as for Obi-Wan, he will die at my hands. The last time we met, I was but the learner. Now I am the master, Kenobi."

Kenobi lifted a thoughtful eyebrow, "Well, there is a tiny problem with that, Anakin. You see, I just stormed in and killed Tarkin and miscellaneous officers and men and planted several powerful bombs in the Death Star command center. So yes, you can loom there and keep us from leaving this corridor until your men arrive as reinforcements, but in … two minutes the command center will explode, and this corridor with it. You might survive. The twins, and I, will not."

"What?" the Corellian sputtered in outrage, "That was not part of the plan, old man! You didn't pay me to die!"

Kenobi crossed his arms and glared at Vader, who glared back for a long moment, before looking at his children.

Luke looked pathetic and sad, which tore at his heart.

And Leia. Precious, difficult, stubborn Leia. She just seemed resigned.

Which was almost worse.

The seconds ticked by.

He couldn't do it.

"Come!" he snapped, turning so quickly his cloak snapped, "I will lead you to safety."

He walked rapidly, then more rapidly, and was relieved to sense his children and their companions following behind him.

Big bombs, his former master claimed. How much destruction were they talking?

They needed to get through at least two more sets of blast doors.

How much time was left?

Unhelpfully, a squad of troopers suddenly appeared ahead of him in the corridor.

The officer halted, flung a nervous hand to his head, and then was almost bowled over by the Dark Lord striding toward him.

"Leave this area," the Sith snapped, "There will be a massive explosion in …"

"60 seconds!" Kenobi called from behind him.

The officer turned pale, turned tail, and nearly ran, with the troopers in anxious pursuit.

Through one blast door.

"45 seconds," Obi-Wan said, his voice faint from shortness of breath.

(Obi-Wan did look old. At least the last 20 years hadn't treated him particularly well either!)

Second blast doors!

He waited for Kenobi, the Wookiee, the Corellian to come through, his mind reeling in terror, and finally his son and daughter bolted through the door, hand in hand.

"Get down," the Dark Lord roared, even as he reached out with the Force to close the doors.

The slid shut and one second later …

KA-BOOM!

The corridor shook, the blast doors bent outward, then blew open, fueled by the intensity of the explosion. Fire licked out of the passageway, and Vader flung himself to one side, using the Force to create shields to protect his children.

On the other side of the door, he could barely see Kenobi, the Wookiee, and the Wookiee's companion retreating from the terrifying heat.

Alarms began sounding throughout the massive battle station and …

The sprinklers came on, and with it, the smell of burnt Nabooian crab impinged on Vader's nasal passages.

(That wasn't right, he realized dimly. He must connect sprinklers with burnt crab now thanks to his cooking disaster so many years ago. There were all kinds of psychological conclusions he could draw from this, but he didn't have time to analyze them now.)

Suddenly filled with terror, he turned to look at the twins. They were curled up on the floor, Luke's body protecting his sister's slight form.

He reached out with the Force. Please, please let them be unharmed …

And then he relaxed slightly as both young people rolled cautiously to their feet. The water from above showered both young faces and forms, and for the first time, Leia Organa smiled.

He stilled. How could he have missed how much … how much … like Padme …

Vader allowed his eyes to close, his shoulders to sag slightly.

At least they were safe.

There was the sudden, startling sound of a lightsaber igniting. Before the Dark Lord could react, the blue laser sword, held by his son, swiped through his prosthetic legs at the knee. Stunned, Darth Vader stood for one disbelieving moment, then ignominiously fell to the ground, his lower legs in one direction, his remaining parts in the other direction.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, turning off his saber, "That really was unkind. But we have to leave and I know you won't let us go."

Kenobi and his two companions approached now. Vader managed to pull himself vertical with the Force and stand, wavering slightly, on his prosthetic stumps. He turned his lightsaber on, unsteady but determined. This would likely be his end, as he couldn't fight well without feet. But he would not lie down and die like a blobby Hutt.

Obi-Wan stared at him, now slightly taller than he was. The old face looked sad, even as his old master turned on his own saber.

"No you don't, Obi-Wan," Luke said indignantly, pushing his way forward and interposing his slight form between the two enemies, "you aren't killing my father."

(A thrill of shock and delight raced through Vader's bewildered mind. Father. He was a father!)

"He needs to die, Luke," Kenobi said with a sorrowful expression.

"Then you go through me," the boy said determinedly.

There was a long pause, and then the old Jedi sighed and turned off his saber.

"Ok, fine. You Skywalkers are so stubborn. Let's get out of here."

"No argument from me, Old Man," the Corellian muttered.

Organa stared at the Sith Lord (still slightly taller than she), her mouth moving slightly, and then she too sighed and glanced at her rescuers.

"Any idea which way to the nearest hanger?"

The Wookiee roared and set off confidently, with the man called "Han", and the princess in pursuit.

Kenobi waited, his eyes on the boy, but Luke gestured, "Go on, Ben. I'll be along really soon."

The Jedi shook his head slightly, then turned and strode away.

Luke turned around and stepped boldly forward, throwing his arms around the stunned Sith Lord, who quickly turned off his saber to avoid taking a limb off his son accidentally.

"Again, I'm really sorry," the boy murmured softly into his mechanically augmented ear, "but Leia's been through the mill and it wouldn't be right to lock her up here. You know?"

The boy stepped back, "I know you're probably mad at me, but do you mind if I holocall you sometime?"

Vader felt a smile curve his lips, "I would be delighted, my son. I would welcome any communication, at any time. Contact me at my castle on Mustafar, and if I'm not there my servants will forward your call."

Luke looked startled, then delighted, "Ok, Father. I love you and I'll talk to you soon."

Darth Vader watched as his son ran off down the corridor, chasing his companions.

And then he lay back on the floor, created a shield in the Force to keep from getting wetter, and waited for Imperial help to arrive.

(Which might take a while, with all the smoke and alarms and chaos.)

A blissful smile crossed his face.

His children were alive.

Author Note: I am not sure if this is a one shot or not. Luke has had way more training than in canon, and obviously learned about Vader way earlier. The Lars are alive out there somewhere. Thank you to my wonderful editor and husband who, as usual, caught plenty of errors.