Author's Note: This is my fanfiction dedicated to the audacious man who passed in Episode VI. His son lives on, but that's not important. He is.

Parts of the movie have been altered in this fanfiction; they are more to the favor of the Dark Side. And now enjoy my version of STAR WARS, but still, not my perfect vision of it.

The Dark Knight gazed out over the expanse of space, the iconic mask he bore deceiving the warrior's true expression. His rhythmic breathing was the only sound heard beside the patter of fingers on keyboards and the occasional murmur of the working officers. The mechanized breathing remained calm as the man's eyes caught hold of the completed space station before him; there was no rush of joy or glory in his heart, not a drop of pride. Instead his heart beat on in betraying shame and anguish, never capable of bearing the feeling of ecstasy again. No, only one long lost could bring back the spirit of happiness…

The Darth's hands clenched at his side, the familiar rush of hate flying through his veins. The past was gone, and there was certainly no turning back. There was nothing to turn back to, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The Dark Lord turned away from the glass pane and started back along the raised platform between the workers. His cloak billowed out from behind him as he strode past and turned a corner; the breathing of Darth Vader faded and the working officers relaxed, the tension in the air now gone.

Disclaimer: Direct phrases from STAR WARS are taken in this fanfiction. I am not George Lucas but a Star Wars crazed girl, seeking the affection of a certain Darth with a mask and yeah… please continue.

STAR WARS

Episode IV

A NEW HOPE

George Lucas

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away…

It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have conquered in a battle against the Galactic Empire, their first victory.

During the battle, Rebel spies stole secret plans to the Empire's ultimate weapon, the Death Star, an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet.

Pursued by the Empire's elite agents, the Princess, Leia, attempts to flee to Alderaan aboard her starship, custodian of the stolen plans. The Galactic Empire succeeds in trapping the ship, readying to board the craft and take back what was rightfully theirs…

"We have captured Tantive IV, Lord Vader. Landing port A2231."

"Well done, sergeant. Return to the hangar and wait there for further instruction. If any Rebels flee from the craft, alert the squadron to bring them down. Show no mercy unless on my count." The Dark Lord turned abruptly and started off the vast corridor, his heavy boots casting thudding echoes in the hall. His haunted breaths were laborious and grew heavy with the thrill of excitement, his hands clenched tightly in anticipation. The Rebels were now cornered…

As he reached the port, an officer came up to him: "Lord Vader, we have breached the ship. What are your orders?"

The Darth felt his heart elate; he was in control. "Search the ship for the plans. Do it swiftly and thoroughly, we cannot let the Rebels escape with them."

Vader swept past the officer and boarded the ship, taking in the current situation. Stormtroopers and Rebel men lay astray in the path, taken down by ray blasts; Vader passed them by, not a drop of remorse in his soul. Troopers followed behind the masked man as he made his way for the main controls center; the trooper's boots clicked on the linoleum floor, a slight patter barely heard under the resound of further laser blasts. The Darth was intent on his goal, anticipating the end of the schematics hunt throughout the galaxy.

The Dark Lord swept the room with his intense gaze, his eyes resting upon the captain of the ship, held hostage between four stormtroopers. "Captain Antilles," murmured the Darth in an ominous voice, advancing upon the man.

The captain did not back down, but remained glaring gallantly into the mask of Death, unwavering.

"What has become of the plans, where have you hidden them?" Vader demanded of the captain, his patience worn thin. "Where are they?"

Still Antilles stared into the midnight eyes of the Dark Lord, a hint of reproach on the captain's features. He refused to speak, his stance resolute. He was not about to give something away that was worth dieing for.

"I said," growled the Darth, gripping hold of the Rebel's neck with a iron hand, "where are the stolen plans?"

An officer then walked in, interrupting Vader from his strangle hold on the Rebel. "The Death Star plans aren't in the main computer," the imperial officer reported, taking in the Darth's current actions.

"Where are those transmissions you intercepted?" The Darth persisted in his deep voice, turning back to the Rebel: "What have you done with those plans?" Vader then lifted the captain into the air with his one hand; his tolerance for the situation had broken, and this drove the Darth into using the more sinister methods of attaining information.

Antilles gagged, choking, as he struggled to take a breath. "We intercepted no transmissions," he gasped, his face turning a tint of blue, "this is a consular ship, we are on a diplomatic mission!"

"If this is a consular ship," countered the Darth, his iron grip on the Rebel in its climax, "where is the ambassador?"

The captain remained loyal until the end, resisting traitorous speech; a gruesome crack issued from his neck, and the Rebel went limp. Darth Vader threw the man away like a rag doll, irate. The soldier hit the wall and crumpled to the ground, his lifeless form pitiful.

"Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans," the Darth commanded, his eyes blazing with contempt; if the plans actually managed to get away… It would surely wreak havoc upon the Empire. "And bring me the passengers, I want them alive!"

The Darth set off down the corridor, his stride weighed down by the burden of his armor. However, his gait had the gesture of superiority and made an imposing depiction of the man; the extra weight he bore was not a matter and was to be carried with pride. His pace was rather hurried as his eager nature gnawed at his mind; his impatience powered him forward, his muscles tensing with apprehension, his fists clenching and releasing.

His thoughts drifted as he gazed forth; his mind drifted far from where he paced, although the Death Star plans were not among them. The Darth eventually came to a stop in the hall, remembering he had shared the same emotion he now felt several times before… Countless times in the past, one of which was too wretched to bear…

"Lord Vader, we have captured the ambassador, Princess Organa."

The voice of the officer stirred the Dark Lord, causing him to close his eyes in concentration, to get back on track. As he opened them, mentally prepared, his stoic eyes fell upon the young face of the Princess; a haughty expression lit her face as she spied the masked man.

"Darth Vader, I should have known." Said the ambassador in shrewd voice, " Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic–"

"Don't act so surprised, Your Highness," cut in Vader, his voice conceited, "you weren't on any mercy mission this time. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the princess retorted, righteous: "I am a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan."

"You are part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor," Vader growled firmly, leering at the ambassador. The finality of his voice caused the princess to falter; the Darth could see the anxiety and fear in her eyes, however dull. "Take her away!"

As the ambassador was marched down the corridor, Vader turned in the opposite direction, tailed by his personal officer. "Holding her is dangerous," he said, looking up at the Darth; Vader was quite tall at the height of seven feet. The young officer persisted his point, quickening his pace to keep up with Vader's brisk stride, "If word of this gets out, it could generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the senate."

"I have traced the rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link to finding their secret base."

"She'll die before she'll tell you anything," the officer said, doubtful.

"Leave that to me," said the Darth with confidence. "Send a distress signal and inform the senate that all aboard were killed."

"Lord Vader," an imperial commander reported, his face stern, "the battle station plans are not aboard this ship, and no transmissions were made. An escape pod was jettisoned during the fighting, but no life forms were aboard."

"She must have hidden the plans in the escape pod," said the Darth, coming up with a liable conclusion. "Send a detachment down to retrieve them—see to it personally, Commander. There will be no one to stop is this time."

"Yes, sir."

Darth Vader strode away, certain of the schematic's recapture. All of the gaps were sealed; the Rebels could not possibly squeeze past them, bother the plans. Everything would be done promptly and accurately; the Death Star would not need to be in a panic.

The Dark Lord retired to his chambers, heaving a sigh as he fell back into his high-backed chair. His head fell into his hands as he meditated, the ache in his shoulders now throbbing, but his breathing was deep and strong.

It was while he sat there, allowing his thoughts to drift once again, when a curt beeping issued from a side panel; the Darth glanced at it, a feeling of foreboding consuming him. The Emperor was calling once again.

Darth Vader swirled in his chair, allowing him to view a wide monitor; before him, a hooded man flickered onscreen, his features hidden in shadow.

"Vader…" he rasped, a sinister edge to his voice, "how are you coming along with your mission?"

"Master, I have captured Tantive IV and Princess Organa."

The Emperor then lowered his hood, and a pair of yellow eyes glowering out from under a ruined face. "Have you succeeded, as well, with the plans?" he rasped in a musing tone. It was an off topic gesture, but his eyes smoldered into the mask of Vader, unrelenting.

"No, my Lord. The Rebels launched the schematics to the planet Tatooine; I sent a squadron down to retrieve them." The Darth hesitated, staring into the fierce eyes of his master. "The Death Star has nothing to fear, my Lord. The plans will be retrieved, I will make sure of it personally."

"Good, good…" the Emperor murmured, his eyes, at last, moving away from Vader. "Now, about your little hostage. I have told Tarkin to test the Death Star on her home planet; I am sure you know of it?"

"Yes, master. Alderaan."

"We will soon know the true position of the Rebel Base, and along with the prize, the destruction of… a planet. This will indeed test the Death Star; we shall, in the impending future, feast upon the raw power of the Galactic Empire."

Author's Note: A to be continued, of course. Annie's not getting off the hook that easily...

To The Obi-Wan Fans: To be honest, I'm not about to let Vader kill him that easily (or torture him for that matter). I thought his death was extremely pointless; I'm not about to let it happen again. And I'm not going to let Obbi get caught, that's just ridiculous. Darth Vader might be my favorite, but that does not stop me from loving others.

The reason as to why he is the second character is that part of the story will be told from his point of view. So don't get on jumpy on me! I love Kenobi.

Also, when I said, "favor of the Dark Side," I did not mean: "THE GALACTIC EMPIRE SHOULD RULE OVER ALL!!"

Noo. Please do not think me as that. What I meant, is that since part of this fic is from Vader's POV, then of course the Dark Side is favored. Not me. I, personally, do not want a mad emperor to rule over the galaxy. That is not right.

Please, no flaming if you review. (Please mail me suggestions!) I am not completely involved (however sadly) in Star Wars. This is based on the movies only. I believe there are comics out there, and until I lay hands upon them, I will go with the awesome movies.

And now...

Darth Vader: I will find it disturbing if you do not review.