The night was silent save for the regular mechanical breathing issuing forth from the obsidian mask that gazed upon the rural scene.
Darth Vader was hesitant, for the first time in a long time.
He had piloted the craft himself from Mustafar, adopting a stealth approach to evade planetary sensors.
He had been summoned by the Emperor to garner a status report on the second Death Star. It was falling behind schedule and his master was displeased.
He could not easily explain the reasoning behind his diversion to the idyllic planet from his distant buried past. Only that the same forces working within him since he revealed his true identity to his son, were now compelling him to ackowledge another aspect of his former self.
A rough path wound up through the swaying grass of the fallow field toward a dry stone wall, it's irregular pattern of slate broken only by a sturdy wooden gate inscribed with a familial insignia.
Slowly, inexorably, the dark lord walked up the path, his ocular sensors analysing the wall, the gate, the ambient temperature and a score of other extraneous environmental details, most of which he chose to ignore.
The rasp of his metallic breath echoed quietly across the field, a wisp of vapour escaping his mouthpiece in repsonse to the chill of the night.
When he reached the gate, again he paused and slowly raised a gloved hand to touch the wood of the gate. he traced its grain slowly downward into darkness until it reached the simple handle.
He turned it and stepped across the threshold.
the cemetery was in relatively good order though the grass stood above the lower pedestals of some of the graves. The headstones were ornately carved with expressions of lives lived well and simply on the peaceful planet. The lone tall figure paused at each row but was still drawn on by his purpose. He knew he would find it.
The grave stood apart from the others, not especially in terms of scale or decoration but it was built using polished marble and rose to a simple spire whereupon was embedded a small object.
Vader's mask automatically enhancved the area of the obelisk and saw it was a necklace, a humble piece of black cord and attached to it, a small jappor snippet.
The tall figure, another wraith in a swirling night of ghosts and memories gazed up at the simple emblem.
He knew that in order to survive the ordeal of his rebirth into a world of pain and encasement in his life support aparratus, he had had to rationalise her death as inevitable, as necessary, as the will of the force even.
And so he had endured for months, then years with the secret pain of love lost, buried, forgotten, supplanted with the memories of his actions as an agent of order and advancement for the great Galactic Empire.
But then he had found Luke and his curiousity had been aroused.
He had hunted the boy down, remorselessly and confronted him.
What had happened next had surprised him most of all.
He had thought to turn him and had reached out to test the boy's resolve, look for weaknesses but he was not prepared for what he had found instead.
Behind the inexperience, the inevitable fear there was something that reached back into Vader, parted the folds of his dark soul, looking for someone else, his former self. Those questing tendrils, experienced only momentarily, were shot through with a familar warmth, imbued with a peaceful unquestioning quality, the certainty of love and its reciprocation.
He had raised his defences again but the seed was planted and now he was here and for what purpose.
No words came. Images flashed across his mind, jolts of electricity, whispers, promises and a face, her face, smiling.
She had loved him, had been happy to devote her life to him and raise a family anywhere in the universe. His fear had corrupted that promise and destroyed the life he had vowed to protect but the child had survived somehow. That child was the last vestige of that promise, the last link to her, she was in his eyes and in his devotion to his cause and his friends.
Still no words came and no real idea as to what he should do next.
Only that he was not the same and that once more the force was dragging him on toward a destiny he could not see as had always been the case, since he was born.
With the approach of dawn the lonely figure turned abruptly and strode out of the cemetery and back to the shuttle. His resolve returned with each stride and these feelings were discounted and buried under the durasteel of the old purpose. As soon as the shuttle cleared the atmosphere, he jumped into Hyperspace and was gone.