Devotion

by adalric

Chapter Two

…

Adalric Brandl had never believed in luck. The hope that may lay in that assumption was too great but neither had he belived in fate for he was unwilling to accept the path he had chosen so long ago and now wanted to leave behind. Fate could not prevent him from that, could not prevent him from fleeing the Emperor, fleeing all his offers of power and the cool and satisfying safety this offered.

So his belief in what kept the galaxy working and spinning was somewhat undefined and in between these two possibilities. Now, he was presented with a dilemma: he had decided to take fate into his own hands, finally, years after he recognized the path the Emperor had lead him on was wrong and ultimately would be his doom. For years he had been too coward to take the necessary steps this realisation implied. The dark side could not provide true peace or love but it was generous in supplying security and stability. It was a strange effect. The claimed power was cold but it provided self-assurance and with this came security and a bizarre sense of invincibility. There was peace, after all, but the dark side fed of strong emotions, hate, anger, distrust and these emotions were bound to disturb the accomplished sense of peace and tranquility. It was a never ending cycle. But he had stopped it. He had broken away. And now he was here.

He surveyed the destruction and devastation around him and could not quite work up the gratitude for still being alive. He allowed himself a few seconds of catching his breath and shaking off the last lingering shadows of the shock the impact had left in him and then began to work himself through the destroyed ship and debris before the whole thing would collapse on him, taking the aid of his lightsaber to clear his path.

…

After hours of waiting the Dark Lord lying across from him on the mossy ground finally stirred. Adalric watched with interest as Vader slowly came to consciousness, heard his breathing rate increase as he lifted his head and sat up, slowly, carefully, obviously in pain. Adalric struggled to maintain a plain, emotionless expression. "Awake at last, are we?"

Vader did not respond to that but merely fixed him with his captivating, unreadable gaze. Several breathing cycles passed without him saying anything, but when he did his voice lacked its usual strength. "Where are we? What have you done to me?"

A cruel, bitter smile. "You mean the great, infallible Dark Lord doesn't know?"

"There is no need to be cynical." Again silence. Then: "You will gain nothing by this, Brandl."

"By what?" Adalric asked and went over to stoke the fire he had ignited earlier. The forest night was cold.

"By holding me prisoner and hostage. The Emperor will not bargain with my life as the price."

The Dark Jedi looked up, curiously. "How does that make you feel?"

Vader did not answer immediately. Without the Force there was no way for Adalric to get a reading on his emotions or thoughts, and the mask of course gave nothing away at all. "I am not privy to be a judge on my master's decisions."

Adalric sat back on his blanket once more. "So, the Emperor would sacrifice you just to exact his revenge and you don't care? You do not expect me to believe that."

"I never said anything about sacrificing myself. Such a thing is not necessary. Blackmailing the Emperor … is against what policy dictates. Surely you understand the necessity. And it is not open to discussion."

Adalric sighed deeply. These were going to be some straining, difficult days that lay ahead. "You hit my ship and we both crashed on this planet. End of tale."

The mask turned to him. "Why should I believe you?"

"Why should I lie?"

Again ominous silence in between the measured breaths. "I cannot touch the Force. That makes me your prisoner."

Adalric could tell Vader had argued with himself whether to reveal this weakness and smiled at that. Part of him, the dark part, the part Palpatine had nourished, wanted to play along with this little game, to bring Vader in this vulnerable position of being hostage and prisoner and then relish it. With effort he discarded the thought. "What makes you think I can touch it? It is an effect of the environment on this planet. This is why I went here."

"I have never heard of such a thing. It is not possible."

Adalric did not feel strong enough to argue with Vader. "Believe it or not. But we have to find a way out of this situation. I was planning to go to a pirate base and it should be about fifty kilometers or so to the north. But you are injured and we have to make good time."

The Dark Lord slowly came to his feet and looked down upon the renegade Dark Jedi. Adalric, however, refused to feel intimidated and feigned calmness.

"If that were true", Vader said, his voice deep and menacing, "why did you save me then?"

Adalric also stood up. "I will collect some things from my ship. I think we should get started in the morning." He then walked by the Sith, ignoring his question to which he had no answer. Yes, why indeed? Not only was Vader his pursuer and enemy, but also injured to an unkown extent and would only hinder and slow Adalric down on his journey out of the forest. He decided to shove that question away for now; he would think about it when there was time and place.

…

Darth Vader could not remember the last time he had been in such a vulnerable position.

He looked after Adalric as the man vanished into the dark forest and then turned back to the crackling fire, watching the flames for long moments in silence until pain brought him back into reality. Carefully he moved himself and began to examine his body. It was worse than he had thought: in several places his suit had been torn, the skin and flesh underneath torn open, bloody and exposed. A deep piercing wound in his stomach hurt with pounding ferocity and a great, deep slash in his right thigh was still bleeding. Every time he put weight on his right leg it gave away, clearly indicating some bone damage and white stars danced before his eyes. His left hand must have been damaged in the crash also, he surveyed as he moved the prosthesis slowly before his eyes; its response was too slow and sluggish. And even though none of these wounds were by themselves life-threatening, he knew that with his normally from infections tightly isolated body now exposed to the outside world and no immediate medical help, the chances to survive a long and straining march through a forest were slim at best.

Of course, this was nothing the other Dark Jedi needed to know. He felt humiliated enough as it was.

What Brandl claimed was ridiculous. His anger was quick to come at the offense of being taken prisoner by an inferior Force user. He squeezed his eyes shut at the overwhelming feeling of loss the Force's absence left in his mind, a deep, gaping wound of longing. He felt incomplete, vulnerable, desperate. He knew the Emperor was able to cut his access to the Force if only for a very short time. He had done it a couple of times in the past as punishment, but not very often which left Vader with the conclusion that doing so must be very difficult. Surely Brandl was not able to do it for such a long time, he was after all only a Force adept, one of the Emperor's creatures whose sole purpose was to do his bidding, nothing more. And so Palpatine made sure to teach them only what was necessary. And to think of this being an effect of the environment … ridiculous. No, Brandl must have discovered some kind of technology and made use of it. To incapacitate and use him as a means to the end.

He tried to take a deep breath, failed because the, as he only now realized damaged machine was not allowing him to do so which infuriated him even more. I will not be treated like this! he swore to himself and clenched his hands into fists. The anger in him was steadily rising but without the Force it was a strange feeling: he was not able to build it up with the aid of the Force, could not make use of it as he was accustomed to. This way anger was useless and only exhausted his energy reserves, quite contrary to what the Dark Side did with such feelings: power them up and give its user renewed strength and purpose.

He was startled into the present when Adalric came out from the undergrowth, carrying a small bag and some more wood under his arm which he threw beside the still crackling fire.

The motion was swift, even without the Force, from long years of practice. One kick to Adalric's knees, another crushing blow, even more effective with the inhuman strength of artificial limbs, to his chest and then the humming, red blade was at the Dark Jedi's throat. Brandl who now lay sprawled on the floor, did not move, did not try to even defend himself. He just regarded the Dark Lord with a surprised but otherwise calm expression on his face.

"You will tell me now what your intentions are!" Vader said in his most threatening voice, struggling to hold the blade still with his damaged hand, careful not to show his inability.

"Or else what?" Adalric asked quietly, "You'll kill me? I've already told you: I'm not afraid to die."

"I can make it a slow, painful death, if need be."

Adalric smiled, a small, cruel smile; his black eyes reflected the red light of the blade and gave him an unnatural look. "I don't think so. I'll tell you a few things, in case you haven't realized it yet. This is an unknown forest, not populated but with a very nasty and dangerous wildlife, and I know the only place where we can get help within a radius of at least five hundered kilometers. You are injured, badly so, and won't be able to survive on your own. I'm the only one here to help you." He shrugged, feeling the blade getting closer to his throat from the motion. "This means: I'm your life. If you kill me you have the satisfaction of humbling yet another man who offended you. But if you do so, you will certainly die. I am not afraid to die? What about you? Are you prepared to face the eternal hells lying beyond?"