THE GREAT VADER

Hey everyone!

So here's this multi-chapter fic that I've had in my mind for almost a year. I love Great Gatsby and I love the movie with Leo DiCaprio (who deserves an Oscar). I feel like there's some parallels when it comes to Gatsby and Anakin/Vader so I've thought about it real hard and finally got it done. I'll try to schedule my updates but I am a very busy person so it'll probably have a few kinks. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy. Most of it is a mix between the book and the movie script. There will be some changes because I have to make it fit with the SW universe and there might be some questions that will be raised, so just imagine that it's very AU. And if you want to imagine Anakin and Obi-Wan in 1920s wear, go for it, I mean it's pretty hot.

-jedimasterroyal

*PS Obi-Wan is Nick

Without further ado...

In my younger and more vulnerable years Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

"Always try to see the best in people," he would say, "Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had."

He didn't say any more, but we had always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. As a consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that during my service in the Clone Wars I was unjustly accused of being a negotiator, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men.

But even I have a limit…

Back then all of us drank too much. The more in tune with the times we were, the more we drank. And none of us contributed anything new.

When I came back from Coruscant last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. I was disgusted. Disgusted with everyone, and everything. Only one man was exempt from my disgust.

Vader.

Vader was the single most hopeful person I have ever met and am likely to meet again. — Vader, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life. He was like one of those machines that registered sonic quakes ten thousand parsecs away.

This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the "creative temperament." No — Vader turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Vader, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

In the summer of that fateful year the tempo of the city planet approached hysteria. All of Coruscant boomed in a steady golden roar. The parties were bigger; the opera shows broader; the buildings higher; the morals were looser; and the ban on liquor had backfired….making alcohol cheaper.

Coruscant was luring the young and ambitious. And I was one of them.

My family have been prominent, well-to-do people of Naboo for three generations. The Kenobis are something of a clan, and we have a tradition that we're descended from the great King Jafan, but the actual founder of my line was my grandfather's brother, who came here during the Gungan-Naboo War from Stewjon, and started the wholesale fishing equipment business that my father carries on to this day.

I graduated from Theed University, and a little later I participated in that mess that was the Clone Wars. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm center of the world, Naboo now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe — so I decided to go to Coruscant and join the Imperial Academy. Everybody I knew was either a Stormtrooper, General, or Admiral, so I supposed it could support one more single man.

I rented an apartment in the newly minted Imperial Center, a new district forged from the remains of the what had once been grounds for the Jedi Temple. It was a forgotten droid maintenance flat in one of the millions of high rises that housed the newly rich.

To get started I bought a dozen volumes on diplomacy and weapons and leadership, and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold shining secrets. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. I was rather literary in Theed University— one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the "Theed Tribune."— and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again the most limited of all specialists, the "well-rounded man." This isn't just an epigram — life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.

With the sun shining, I planned to spend the summer studying. And I probably would have were it not for the riotous amusements that beckoned beyond the walls of that colossal castled owned by a gentleman I had not yet met, named...

Vader.

It's just the intro. Hope you enjoyed. Tell me your thoughts on this idea and see if you think of any solutions for snags that I might hit in the storyline. ALSO HMU if you going to SW CELEBRATION.

If you are good at photoshop and can make a sexy cover like the movie poster but with Vader. GO FOR IT AND SEND IT TO ME.