DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars, that wonderfully fascinating and incredibly larger-than-life universe belongs in entirety to the almighty George Lucas. I'm only trying to enrich my life by borrowing a tiny part of his creation. And 'Arms of the Angel' belongs to Sarah McLaughlin and the parody "Battle Hymn of the Empire" belongs to Steven Cavanagh, (his stuff is in theforce.net under Songbook of the Whills). Hopefully if and when they find out about this, they either enjoy it enough or take pity on me enough not to sue.
AUTHOR: Ihadanepiphany.
REVIEWS: As many as you can type!
This was up before, under the same name, but I hated the second chapter, I had to get rid of it. This was meant to be a stand-alone piece but one of my first ever reviews told me to write more so I did, but it was nowhere near good enough so I finally got rid of it. This will stay a stand-alone piece! I've learned that much.
You can borrow it if you like, just drop me an e-mail to tell me where its going, k?
And now, here it is again.
Unforgiven.
The crew of the Executor were on leave and, as per custom were enjoying an
officially unofficial `do in a "rented" hall on Coruscant. The music
was playing the drink was flowing, every soldier had at least one partner, they
were making the best of it and doing a good job. They had survived another tour
and could now relax for a week. Now they were celebrating. In the enormous
multi-tiered ballroom every spare inch was packed, except for one corner of the
bar where Vader sat, watching his men.
He was supposed to make an appearance and leave, but despite himself, he felt
amusement at what the currently off-duty soldiers of the Empire were getting up
to. When he saw a group of pit-crewmen pick up one of the Generals and throw
him into the big fountain in the middle of the dance floor he damn-near choked
holding back the howls of laughter. He glanced at the glass of alcohol by his
elbow. He couldn't drink if of course, though he found himself wishing that he
could. He looked at the tightly-packed sea of people, all having the times of
their lives and saw the three-foot of clear space around himself and realized
that he wished he was out there, just having a good time. Not having to worry
about the Empire or the Rebels. Not having to be Darth Vader, right hand Sith
to the Emperor, just go out there and be, and be, and be Anakin Skywalker
again.
There was a lull as the band changed and as Vader glanced up, a blue-skinned,
red-eyed Chiss female and her band took the stage. He briefly wondered how
Thrawn was doing, then the Chiss began to sing.
"Oh, put your hands together for the ruler of the stars,
He's the boss from Coruscant out to the home of Owen Lars.
He once wiped out all the Jedi Knights and then passed out cigars.
And he keeps on marching on!"
It was the new version of the Battle Hymn of the Empire that was doing the
rounds of the various bases, outposts and starships of the Empire. The glasses
on the bar rattled as every officer, soldier, wife , friend and whore opened
their mouths and belted out;
"Glory, glory to the Emperor!
Glory, glory to the Emperor!
Glory, glory to the Emperor!
And he keeps on marching on!"
All the men knew what was coming and turned an eye towards the black-clad Sith
at the bar. Vader waited to see if she had the guts to sing it. Evidently she
did, because she raised a glass in salute and sang out, loud and clear;
"And now we bow in reverence to his own Evil Lord.
Vader dresses all in ebony and he loves to be abhorred.
He has a shiny helmet and a groovy laser sword,
And he keeps on marching on!"
Vader raised a glass in return as the verse finished and the Chiss bowed
slightly, then joined in the chorus.
"Glory, glory to the Emperor!
Glory, glory to the Emperor!
Glory, glory to the Emperor!
And he keeps on marching on!"
After eight more verses and a double chorus finish, and after everyone finished
yelling and stomping and whistling, the Chiss called for quiet.
"We're gonna take it down for a song or two for all you guys who were away
from your honnies for so long.
Almost as one man, the troops cleared the dance floor, leaving those who wanted
to dance with their loves and were willing to do it surrounded by their
fellow-soldiers.
Vader turned his attention to the upper tiers, wondering whether he should
bother going up there.
When he heard the song, he looked around, for a moment forgetting where he was.
Then he realized it was the Chiss singing and sat again, dazed.
"Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance,
For the break that'll make it okay.
There's always some reason, to feel not good enough,
And it's hard at the end of the day."
Vader could remember exactly when he'd heard that song last, over twenty years
ago. They were in a hotel, not far from here and it had sung, for him.
"I need some distraction, oh beautiful release,
Memories seep from my veins."
Back when the entire galaxy had shown with a beautiful light and she had been
the brightest of suns.
"I may be empty, oh and weightless yeah maybe,
I'll find some peace tonight."
She had written it, refused to let him see what it was she was doing until she
had it perfect.
"In the arms of the angel,
Fly away from here.
From this dark cold hotel room,
And the endlessness that you fear."
Then she had taken a musician from a local band and hammered at the score until
it too was perfect.
"You were pulled from the wreckage,
Of your silent reverie.
In the arms of the angel,
May you find, some comfort here."
And still she refused to let him see or hear it and though he could have lifted
it from her mind as easy as anything, he left it to her.
"So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn,
There's vultures and thieves at your back.
Storm keeps on twisting, keep on the building the lies,
That you make up for all that you lack."
And then, when he walked in the door, she was standing beside the instrument,
the room full of old-fashioned candles. She smiled shyly at him, played the
intro and began to sing, she sang this song.
"Don't make no difference; escape one last time
It's easier to believe.
In this sweet madness, oh this Gloria sadness,
That brings me to my knees."
She had sung this song, their song and he knew that he would never, could never
love anyone so much.
"In the arms of the angel,
Fly away from here.
From this dark cold hotel room,
And the endlessness that you fear."
His angel, his wonderful, beautiful angel. Only a few short months after that
she was gone, driven away by the man she had loved.
"You were pulled from the wreckage,
Of your silent reverie."
Blinded by hate, he had forgotten about what treasure he held until it was far,
far too late.
"In the arms of the angel,
May you find, some comfort here."
Oh Force, he loved her still, and he missed her more than his life was worth.
Forgive me he cried out soundlessly.
"In the arms of the angel,
May you find, some comfort here."
Padme please, forgive me.
