#radioactivepeasant

Stealing the young Prime to be the future leader of Cybertron and heir to his position had been a stroke of genius if he did say so himself. The young mech was afraid but not too afraid to pick a fight with Megatron about the treatment of the autobots. He voiced his arguments often and loudly, and Megatron hoped he never realized that one of the reasons he wasn’t dealing with as many riots was because people noticed that Prime was still defending them and continued to remain healthy. 

Prime was mostly obedient, he knew his friends and his team of spacebridge technicians (oh, did the burn) were held over his head a subtle hostages. Not that Strika was planning on doing anything to Bulkhead. She adored the brilliant young mech to the point that Megatron was vaguely concerned. 

Which was why when Shockwave announced the Optimus had vanished through a spacebridge to Earth...he was startled. 

“He’s where?” 

“On Earth,” Shockwave replied with distaste. He had never been to Earth and he hated the notion of an Organic planet. Which he could have considered before taking in Bumblebee who happened to adore Earth. “Records indicate this trip has been made several times, with good attempts to conceal said trips.” 

“So it is not an escape.” Megatron mused. He had Alpha Trio, Ultra Magnus, Sentinel Prime, and all of the others under heavy guard, and the rest of the Autobot leaders were imprisoned or undergoing trial. “It is not a rebellion.” 

“It could be,” Shockwave reminded him, “very easily. He could have been the new Magnus had he.” 

“He wasn’t,” Megatron growled, “he was hobbled and was seconds away from imprisonment for trumped up charges of treason when we conquered. No...this is business. When are these visits?” 

“Clustered regularly to coincide for human months.” Having spent over twenty years on Earth, Megatrons first thought of “appointment” was spot on. This was scheduled, he was meeting someone. 

“Send someone to find him.” He ordered. “I will speak with him when he returns.” It was a promise and a threat. 

#$#$# 

“I can’t say that it’s been easy for you, or that it will get easier,” Mrs. Fanzone told Optimus as the young Cybertronian rested his helm in his servo and sighed. She was a few years older than her husband, the cranky if widely intelligent Captain Fanzone, and had been Optimus’ unofficial therapist for months during his defense of Earth. When he’d staggered back to Earth a year and a half later, looking betrayed, shocked, and grieving, she’s finally taken him officially as a client. As a neutral third-party, he was the voice of common sense telling him that he wasn’t going insane. “Just that it might eventually get easier.” 

“I’m not a sparkling,” he grumbled, but his spark felt lighter after talking to Dr. Fanzone. She was a lot like Ratchet, but also her own person. 

“No, you’re not. You know Optimus,” the woman lifted her knitting and held the budding scarf up for inspection. He nodded at the blue and red blocks with approval. “You’re facing what countless of people have faced before, at least somewhat. After the end of World War One in 1918, there was a shift in the world. The men and women involved couldn’t go back to what life had been before, and many of them were still young. You’ve experienced war, and you’ve lead troops into battle, and you’ve....you’ve killed like any soldier does” 

“I never wanted to,” Optimus said, and he looked down at his servos as if to see Energon splashed across them. 

“You’ve nearly been killed, and you’ve been in charge of a war, and now you’re suddenly not. In addition to being a political prisoner/hostage, you’re also under the direct attention of the man.” 

“Mech.” 

“Mech who tried to kill you countless times and conquered your planet.” 

“I know...I’m trying to keep people safe and I can’t say that he isn’t going a better job the Sentinel.” The doctor pursed her lips which Optimus took as a sign that she had met Sentinel. “But I’m not a sparkling and I don’t need to be mocked for being young when I’ve....I deserve better than some patronizing hardaft mocking me. I mean, he told me himself that if the council hadn’t tied me up, he couldn’t have taken Cybertron.” 

“Betrayed by your allies,” Dr. Fanzone asked, and he bit his glossa with a nod. “Betrayal takes a long time to process, Optimus. I understand if you’re still upset about it. I’d be confused if you weren’t. I’d be alarmed if you weren't, but the fact that they betrayed you hasn’t stopped you from trying to defend them.” 

“I learned a lot from Earth,” Optimus said, remembering watching Luke Skywalker, Captain Kirk, and the countless episodes of MASH with Ratchet. He wanted to defend people, and since Megatron listened to him...it was up to him. 

“Can I lend you a book?” She asked, and Optimus nodded. He had a significant stash of contraband from Earth already. Stuff that Megatron would destroy if he knew about.  He wasn’t going to give up Queen just because Megatron had a thing against Earth. Getting up, she moved from the balcony to the bookshelf just inside her office. Optimus took a moment to survey the backyard and winced at the sight of another crushed rosebush. “Here,” she returned with a book. 

“The Chronicles of Narnia,” he read the title. “Really? Isn’t this a children’s book?” 

“It’s for everyone,” Dr. Fanzone told him, “just read it and when you come back, tell me what you think.” 

“Are you allowed to assign readings?” 

“I’m the therapist to a giant robot from outerspace who is functionally a captive prince,” she said dryly. “I’m playing it by ear. Do you want me to send a parenting book to Megatron?” 

Optimus laughed...and then nodded. “It’ll be funny.” 

“Alright,” she vanished back inside, and Optimus tucked the book into his subspace, where he’d hidden Bulkheads new poster, video games for Bumblbee, and the eleven seasons of MASH for Ratchet. “So, here you go. Please don’t get dead. I’ll put you down for the right time next month too.” 

“You know that Megatron actually says month?” Optimus said, standing. “He uses other Earth terms too. It’s actually pretty funny. I get that he spent 50 years here, but still.” 

“50 years is a long time, even for him.” 

“I guess, I’d better get going. If I get caught there will be trouble for more than just me.” 

“Alright,” Dr. Fanzone watched the  firetruck transform and vanish down the back alley. She offered a prayer to anyone who might be listening that Optimus would be okay. 

##$3 

Optimus had made this trip four time without problems, it was the fifth time that he stepped through the front doors of the residence that he and Megaron shared where he found himself in trouble. 

The estate Vader had selected was on a sparsely populated planet in the Outer Rim, near both Naboo and Tatooine.  It was secluded but a location where he seldom spent much time unless his temper was worse than usual or his health was approaching crisis.

And of necessity, it had a very well-equipped medical center, something he could thank both his former master and his current for.  The center was staffed by top of the line medical droids.  It would be enough for Yoda if anything could be, though the old master protested when Vader pointedly escorted him there.

Vader pointed at the small Jedi.  “You do not get to die while my son still needs you.  Get the medical care you need.  You have the time.  Luke is going to be contacting his friends.  He does not need you hovering over him while he does so.”  Reluctantly, he added, “I will not start training him without telling you.  Let the droids help you.”

Eventually, Yoda agreed, and Vader left the medical wing.  Then he went to find his son, even knowing his presence would probably be even less helpful than Yoda’s.  Luke’s light drew him in a way he hadn’t expected and didn’t quite understand, perhaps wasn’t willing to understand, but he followed it.

Even drawn that way, he kept a distance when he found his son in the communications room, the room he’d shown the boy and given him permission to use.  But Luke wasn’t using any of the communications options.  Instead, he sat before a station with his eyes closed.  A moment after Vader arrived in the doorway, Luke looked up at him.

“Have you already contacted your princess?”

“Not yet.  I wanted to talk to you first.  Is Yoda all right?”

“The medical droids are tending to him.  I do not know the details yet.”  He folded his arms, studied his son.  “What other promises do you want from me?”

Though Luke winced, he lifted his chin.  “Leia’s going to want to see me.  It should probably be somewhere neutral, since your bargain with me doesn’t mean you and she are allies.”

Vader rolled his eyes.  “I have no more desire for your Rebels to descend on my private retreat than you have to see the massacre that would likely result.  Since you wish to rescue your smuggler friend, Tatooine seems the obvious destination.  I will take you.  I do not need to return to my ship for a few more days.  What else do you want, child?”

Luke took a deep breath.  “Your word you won’t track the transmission.”

“You have it.  Your friends’ safety was part of the bargain we made.”

“Thanks.”  His shoulders relaxed.  “How secure is the transmission?  How much is it safe to say?”

“If your princess secures it on her end, it is fairly secure.  Those who can access my transmissions are rare.”

“All right.”  For a moment, Luke didn’t move.  Then he activated the secure comunit.

Without asking Vader to leave the area.  Vader was surprised by the omission, but as long as his son didn’t ask him to go, he had no intention of doing so.  He was far enough away he couldn’t see the codes Luke entered, though he could always access the system later.  That, however, would go against their bargain.  Unless Luke was in danger, he wouldn’t do it.  He did hear the pass phrases Luke and the princess exchanged once they’d connected, but although Luke glanced at him, the boy made no effort to lower his voice.

Perhaps his interactions with Yoda had bought him some trust?  Vader wasn’t sure, but he hoped so.  If this was to work, the boy had to trust him at least a little.  At least enough to keep his word when bound to a pact.

Luke glanced at him while the princess moved to a secure area.  I’m here, Father.  Doesn’t that say something already?

I suppose it does.

Smiling a little, Luke nodded.  Then the princess was back, and the boy turned his attention to negotiating with someone who was almost as stubborn as he was and less than pleased to learn that Luke wanted to change their whole plan for rescuing that irritating smuggler.

Especially when Luke refused to explain why he suddenly wanted to meet on Tatooine beyond that he had a new plan he thought would work.  

At last, she agreed to meet him on Tatooine in three days, with the Wookiee and the droids.  When they disconnected, Luke sagged back in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Are you all right?”  Vader was feeling an unexpected touch of guilt and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Give me a minute.”  His voice was muffled in his hands, and he made no attempt to move.  

Vader took a few cautious steps forward, not wanting to crowd the stubborn child but also genuinely concerned—an emotion he didn’t bother to shield.

Eventually, Luke looked up, met Vader’s eyes through his mask, and offered a small, shaky smile.  “I’m all right, Father.  Just—she isn’t happy now, but she’ll be more unhappy when she finds out the whole story.”

“Which you haven’t told her.”

“No.”  He sighed.

Tentatively, Vader reached out and rested a hand on his boy’s shoulder, alert to any sign the touch was unwelcome.  When Luke only leaned into the support, he relaxed a bit.

“No matter how secure the connection, this didn’t feel like something to say over a com line.”  He sighed again.  “She won’t react well no matter how I tell her, but if she can see that we’re working together, see that I’m not hurt, it might make a difference.  Especially if we’re offering to save Han.”

“Would the peace offering of already having saved him make a difference?  For me, it is as simple as walking into Jabba’s Palace and demanding he give me Solo.”

“Won’t that raise suspicion?  With the Emperor, I mean.”

“No.  Provided your smuggler stays out of sight, I can say that I took him as bait for you.”

Luke winced, and Vader started to withdraw his hand.  Luke reached up and grabbed it, holding it in place.  “I’m not upset with you,” he said.  “Well, not about that.  It’s a good plan, one with far less risk than what we were thinking.”

“If we get there a day ahead of her, it can be already taken care of when she arrives.  It might go some way to showing good intentions.”

Though Luke considered it for a long moment, he shook his head in the end.  “No.  She’d hate being left out of it even more.  It’s a solid plan, and I think I’ll probably be able to convince her to go along with it, but it has to be her decision.”

“Then it will be.  We are less than a day’s flight from Tatooine.  We have two days of training time before we leave.”

“It’ll give us a chance to find out how Yoda’s doing, too.”

Vader’s hand on Luke’s shoulder tightened without meaning to.

“Father?”

“I apologize.”  He forced his prosthetic to loosen its grip.

For a moment, Luke stared up at him with wide eyes.  Then the boy shook his head.  “I’m not leaving, Father.  You’ll be there with me on Tatooine, and I’ll come back here with you afterwards.  Whatever Yoda or Leia says about it.”

Unwilling though he was to admit it, part of Vader relaxed at Luke’s reassurance.

“What now?” the boy asked.

“You need to eat and rest if we’re to get any training accomplished tomorrow.  If you will come with me?”

Sitting at a table with his son and watching the boy eat was a surreal experience, partly for how normal it should have been, had their lives gone differently.  More, Vader could sense that the child wanted to ask him something but wasn’t sure of how he’d take it.  Guessing that the topic was his own health, Vader chose not to invite the question.  There would be another time for that.  Luke was exhausted.  Instead, Vader watched over Luke as he ate and escorted the boy to a suite of rooms across from his own after the meal.

Only when he sensed that the stubborn child had actually gone to sleep did Vader go to his own rooms across the hall.  They contained a hyperbaric chamber that was, at the moment, his best chance for what he needed to do next.

In truth, the hyperbaric chamber in the medical wing would be better suited for this; it was equipped for when his health was more precarious or compromised than usual, as this was the estate he often retreated to at such times.  The hyperbaric chamber in his rooms was a bit less complex, but it had the benefit of being farther from a certain old Jedi Master Vader would prefer to avoid.  Both because sensing Yoda would do nothing for his own temper and because the Dark side that was so much a part of him might actually set back Yoda’s healing.

So Vader went to the hyperbaric chamber in his rooms, which did have the benefit of being closest to Luke.  For what he needed to do, that proximity might. . . help.

Within, the mechanisms helped him remove his mask and helmet and some of his armor, what could be removed without a worse impact on his health.  Going further would require the machines and droids in the medical wing.  This would have to do.

For a moment, he breathed the oxygenated, medicated air, adjusting to breathing with less support.  It was always an adjustment.  Even without his mask, he got assistance just to breathe, but it was less.  Enough less that he could slow his breathing into a meditative pattern.

It took time and working through the constant pain, but he managed to sink into a trance—without focusing on the Dark side or the negative emotions that fueled it.  This was not a Jedi trance, by any means, not the mindset of a Lightsider, but it was as close as he’d gotten for more than twenty years.

For long minutes, he maintained that state of mind, ensuring he could hold it.  The mindset got easier as time passed, and his meditation deepened.