"This is a rebel that surrendered to us. Although he denies it, I believe there are more of them, and I request permission to conduct a further search of the area," said the commanding officer.
Vader looked at his son. A young man was he, with blonde hair like his own. A build that showed his intensive training and a calmness that set him on edge. A calmness that he had only seen in a Jedi's eyes.
To think my son was deceived by such foolishness, he thought as his nose twitched in disgust.
"He was armed only with this," the officer said as he showed Vader the lightsaber in his palm. He turned to face his son again. He had built his own. Luke no longer used his pathetic, old, lightsaber.
Weakness. That's what that old thing was. One's lightsaber is not just one's life. It is one's identity, and Vader's no longer shone blue. No. It burned a powerful, crimson red.
With one swoop of his large, black cape, he took the lightsaber from the officer and clenched it in his good hand. "Good work, Commander. Leave us. Conduct your search and bring his companions to me." He glanced at Luke. He was unfazed. He maintained his calmness even when his friends were threatened.
"The Emperor has been expecting you," he continued as the commander and his accompanying stormtroopers retreated to the lift.
"I know, Father," his son answered keeping a steady pace beside him down the hallway.
Father, he thought. He took a moment to revel in it. "So, you have accepted the truth," he said with a certain tone of happiness, if you could even call it that. His son may have been a Jedi, but not for long, and he had already started down the path to the dark side.
"I have accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father."
The name sent a rush of rage through his veins. He reflexively turned and held back the urge to take the end of the lightsaber and smash it against his son's face. "That name no longer has any meaning for me," he lied through his gritted teeth. No meaning. He laughed at himself. If it truly had no meaning there would be no reason for his anger.
"It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten," his son said.
Vader had not forgotten. The last time he had been called Anakin, he was burning in the volcanoes of the Mustafar system. You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you! He remembered. Obi-wan Kenobi – the coward of a Jedi Master. Vader hated him. He was cocky and arrogant. Obi-wan always spoke to him as if he were still his padawan. You still have much to learn, my young padawn, ha! Was Vader not the one to slay the coward himself? Vader should have felt a deep sense of triumph. He had gotten revenge! He had finally paid back the man who left him in this dastardly state – who had kept him so long from learning the truth- but instead, he could not get the image of Obi-wan's eyes out his mind.
Obi-wan Kenobi was the master of calm - choosing to meditate even in times of great peril. Never panicked. Never fearful. Even when they had faced their most versatile of adversaries, he had hardly flinched, in fact, he even joked about it. But when Vader had met him in battle on the destroyed Death Star, his eyes had been filled with such pain. Why?, he questioned. Obi-wan had no reason. Or maybe he did. Regret?, he thought.
"I know there is good in you," Luke said, trying to engage his father.
He recalled his missions with Obi-wan. Countless times they fought side by side – two parts of a whole. He recalled those times when Obi-wan incessantly lectured him about something he could hardly care less about and the times that he had made his master extremely uncomfortable with his flying habits. They were the heroes of the Clone Wars – Anakin Skywalker and General Kenobi. They had been unstoppable and more than that, they had been brothers. Obi-wan was a great man, and Anakin had loved him, but Vader was not –
"The Emperor has not driven it from you fully," Luke said as if interrupting his thoughts. Vader snapped back to reality for a moment, and realized the nostalgic smile that had been creeping up on his face. No, he thought wiping the smile from his face. "That is why you couldn't destroy me. That's why you won't bring me to your Emperor now." He replaced the smile with a cold, stoic expression and pondered his son's words. He could not destroy Luke simply because the Emperor had wanted him alive. His son was wrong. There was no good left in him. But the conversation made him feel uneasy. He clenched his hands in frustration, suddenly remembering the lightsaber he held in his good hand.
"I see you have constructed a new lightsaber," Vader said in an attempt to draw the conversation away from the man he once was. The lightsaber unleashed with a familiar hum – green. Quite unlike his old one. Rather, like that of the pathetic Master Yoda. His skin began to boil. Like that of – his rage settled as the thought emerged – like that of his old mentor, Qui-Gon Jinn. It was Master Qui-Gon who had found him on Tatooine. A worthless slave, leading a worthless life. But back then, he was sure of who he was. He was Anakin Skywalker - a nine-year-old boy only dreaming of adventure - a boy-genius in mechanics and engineering, and most importantly he was a boy who was willing to help anyone who needed it.
Anakin lived for his mother. He had no friends as a child. His mother was all he had, all he knew. When Qui-Gon offered Anakin his freedom, it was the chance of a lifetime. Anakin could have the adventures that he dreamed of! He could one day return a powerful man and save thousands of lives! But was it all really worth it? When Anakin walked away from his mother that day, he had lost his only clear reason to live. What if he couldn't become a Jedi? What if he couldn't free her? What if he never even saw her again? The council didn't believe he could do it - even Obi-wan hadn't believed he could do it! The sole believer was Qui-Gon.
Master Qui-Gon Jinn was strong and in tune with the force – a true force to be reckoned with – but even he was slayed by the Sith.
Don't look back, his mother had said. But Anakin was lost. He didn't know who he was supposed to be anymore. And he was afraid.
Vader wheezed through his helmet, feeling his throat clench in fear. "Your skills are complete," he said shaking the memories away and sheathing the green glow. "Indeed, you are as powerful as the Emperor as forseen." Turning to face away from his son, His memories made him feel vulnerable, as if his son could see straight through his dark mask and into his thoughts. But Luke would not let him retreat.
"Come with me," he said approaching him from behind.
He paused for a moment. He let the oxygen deeply penetrate his lungs as he breathed in even though it made his entire body ache. "Obi-wan once thought as you do," he said, images of his old master standing at the entrance of his wife's ship flashing through his mind - his Jedi cloak flowing through the wind and ashes, his face as calm as ever…-except for those eyes, he regretted to remember. Pain. Regret. Misery. And love. Vader winced beneath his mask. What did Obi-wan know?, he thought, his entire face wrinkling in frustration.
"You do not know the power of the dark side," he said recalling the stories Chancellor Palpatine had told him long ago, almost forgetting why he had chosen this path in the first place. "I must obey my master."
"I will not turn," Luke said with determination, "and you'll be forced to kill me." Panic surged through Vader for only instant. So quickly even he could hardly identify the feeling. Kill him, he thought, Simple. Just like all the others. But Vader felt uneasy. Something was different this time.
"If that is your destiny," he said trying to justify the idea that caused him a mysterious pain of guilt.
"Search your feelings, Father. You can't do this. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate!" Vader refused to look within himself, afraid of what he might see, but he took a moment to look at his son. He saw his mother's cheeks. He saw Padmé's gaze. A sense of gentle familiarity flushed down his spine. All he wanted was to be in the arms of his mother and to kiss the woman he loved. But they were gone, and it was his fault.
"It is too late for me, son," he said with a trace of guilt and tenderness towards his son, but the tenderness was followed by a twinge of fear. "The Emperor will show you the true nature of the force. He is your master now." A lift at the other end of the hallway opened and a set of stormtroopers came to escort Luke to the Emperor. Luke looked into his father's eyes and pleaded in silence. Vader stared back through his emotionless mask. Both unmoving.
"Then my father is truly dead," his son said in disappointment. Yes, Vader thought, and that is how it should stay. The man, Anakin Skywalker, is no more. There is only Vader, he convinced himself. Denial, some would call it, but Vader was still filled with hate. He was still angry. He was still afraid and Anakin was buried underneath all of it. He would never return. He should never return.