Dust in the Wind
By Stefan
Usual disclaimer: I do not own anything, just playing with it and then putting it back on the shelf again.
Vader walked over the rubble and mounting debris left behind after the destruction of the Imperial Base on Scarif.
He had to, it was more or less an unfortunate necessity because of the many deaths during the attack of the Rebel Extremists.
The citizens of the Empire needed to realize that those who called themselves "Rebels" were nothing but terrorists and that
the Imperial Fleet was one of the many tools to defend civilization, prosperity and freedom against anarchy. The civilians had to be
made aware that those men and women, serving at the fleet and the forces, were heroes.
He pulled a face, the wording of those press releases where too flowery for his taste. People fighting for what they believed in was the problem,
it has always been the problem.
He was a problem when he believed in something. Now, he was not quite sure anymore of what he believed in. He believed in revenge,
he believed in hatred and he believed in pain. He believed that nothing could ever wash away the tears or rewrite the past, not even the
Force itself. He believed in his Master, in his superiority. He had saved his live all those years back. Nobody else would have bothered,
Vader was not even sure he would have bothered himself.
He was aware a droid with a camera and some men of the Imperial Propaganda Bureau were somewhere behind him, occasionally
daring to make short clips but always when they did, he could feel their fear spiking, their heart rate quickening, because they were
never sure how he would react. He had choked one reporter to death that got too close and too nosy for his taste.
So these were reluctant to close in on him.
The waters were finally calm as they were before this base had been destroyed, the beaches full of rubble, debris and lost dreams.
Something pulled on him, a feeling of familiarity. He followed it calmly and shoved some dirt away with his boot, finding two
rotting corpses, vastly holding each other. A man and a woman, embracing each other during their last moments.
The shredded rags were not imperial so he knew he was looking down on some of those rebels. But the strange feeling
remained and he gently kicked the bodies apart, and looked closer until he felt the centre of the sensation. He lifted his
hand and something ripped away from the woman. A small white Kyber crystal. It pulsated with the force, beaming bright and clear.
He could feel the force signature of two people finding a refuge in that crystal. Like an echo of life itself.
Sometimes these crystals were indeed able to host a soul …one soul…but this was holding two merged souls.
He almost envied them for what they had found beyond death. His chest burned as he painfully inhaled and
his fist crushed the crystal to dust….After a moment of contemplation, he opened his fist again and sparkly glitter of Kyber
was caught in the wind and blown away , dancing in the sunset.
Vader turned on his heel and walked away from the beach. The hole in his chest felt even more hollow,
more empty than usual. He felt like he was choking and slowly suffocating on his own pain but he just walked on.
What else was there to do?
END