And Then What?
He stood alone in the vast, rumbling belly of the huge war machine, wrapped in a cloud of thoughts as dark as the sable cloak he wore. He stared, no, glared at the universe from his position beside the octangular bay window, ignoring the faint whispers that reached his 'ears' from across the room. Come with me. Together we can rule the galaxy, as father and son. And he had not come. He had refused his destiny, his father, refused the lure of power. How can that be? He could not understand it, how just a boy could turn down a galaxy. To wield power, was not that the secret wish of every creature, to become the most powerful being alive? It was what he lived for, what his master lived for. What my master has become, he corrected himself quickly. What I want more than anything.
More than anything? A sudden, softer voice inquired, surfacing in his mind and sounding doubtful. It seemed more certain to come when he had no wish for its presence. It found his thoughts amusing at best, foolish at worst. He hated its sharp, relentless questions, questions that threatened his whole purpose, his whole way of thought. But they came anyway. And once you have the power over, say, a planet, then what?
Then I will become more powerful; I will control more and more, and become greater, that's what. He tried to force the voice down, but for the moment it refused to leave. It was determined to make him see something.
Always about you, isn't it? After you have the power over all the planets, all the creatures, then what?
Then I will rule them and control their destinies. I will be the most powerful being alive. How's that fiend? He felt confident that he had won their argument. There was a long minute of silence; he thought maybe it had gone.
Then it laughed sadly and replied, Oh that's fine, fine. Certainly it sounds good for you now… But someday, you will no longer be here, alive. You will die. The inevitable question: And then what?
The power in this world could not be taken on to the next; he saw it with sickening realization. The voice was right. And then what? I don't know. His admission shocked and unnerved him. All the power in the galaxy would bring him nothing in the end. He would become nothing in what? Another fifty years? His life was such a short flash in the time span of the universe. Soon he would be gone, and then forgotten.
His son knew it. Luke had known it before he had. He knew, in the end it had no lure at all. Seeking power at the cost of all else, happiness, friendships, lives… he sees it for what it is, an empty pursuit at the expense of all that is good in life. He had chased it whole-heartedly, and what did he have to show for it? A crippled body, a split and broken family, a dead spirit. The list went on and on.
A small part of him cheered for his son, was instantly squelched. He would continue his quest for power, like a slave searching for his master. Perhaps Luke would refuse it again, but he would not cease to offer it to him. Power, it was an empty pursuit, perfect for an empty shell of a man as himself.
Darth Vader was surprised to find the voice gone. It had given up trying to make him see. Well, he had seen, but it knew he had no plans to act on his knowledge. So it left him to drag himself deeper into the mire of darkness.
Yet, he had a feeling it might be back.