Loyalty.
It was the only thing he could offer to those he loved.
Not compassion; it was against the Jedi Code. Not material wealth; that was also against the Jedi Code, and he had never possessed any in the first place. Not patience; he lived for the moment. And could he offer comfort when he had only inner termoil?
In that last moment he had offered her everything he had to give and she had turned him down. Be my Queen, he'd said, and I will be your right-hand man, and we will conquer the galaxy together-- then all men will bow down before you as I do. I myself will see to it!
There was only one person left after that who had wanted what he had to give. The Jedi had dismissed him; Padme had in the end deserted him, his mother was long dead, and Obi-wan had only seen him as a younger brother.
A brother? The thought made him laugh. No. He'd never been Obi-wan's brother; the man had only cried that in a moment of shock, finally seeing what his apprentice had become. He should have been to Obi-wan as a son. Instead, Obi-wan had fobbed his mistake back into Qui-Gon's lap and for that Vader would never forgive the Master who had trained him in the Jedi Way. Perhaps, perhaps if Obi-wan had wept "My son, my son!" then there might have been one more chance to have been restored to the light . . .
Smiling bitterly, he swept his cloak around himself and stepped the shuttle the Emperor had given him. There was work to be done here-- a few of the locals on this planet had reported Jedi-like activity in its captital city.
Touching his lightsaber, Vader reached out with the Force for the sensitive user. As if a candle in the darkness of his mind a brilliant light flickered briefly and died out as if someone had attempted to snuff it. A Padawan, probably, with his Master.
He switched on his radio and contacted his troops. "This is Lord Vader. This one is mine." Jumping onto the new speeder-bike he'd outfitted and designed himself, he kicked on the engines and roared into the silent and empty streets.
He would track down his new Master's enemies and destroy them.
Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, of course. This humble piece of drabble is a look at Episode 3, which while not the best piece of script writing (heavy-handed character "development", etc.) is at least better than Ep. 1 & 2 and deserves some attention. But seriously . . . "'Where's Padme?'" What the heck was George thinking!
Please read and review! I appreciate any comments!