The disappearance of a sense of responsibility is the most far-reaching consequence of submission to authority.
- Stanley Milgram
Somewhere in the Middle
Chapter 3
Duty Bound
Vader ignored the stares, (and the people attempting not to stare), as he dragged his daughter through the corridor's of the Imperial Military HQ. He desperately wanted to "take care" of the idiots, but he was running late as it was. Why did he have Starkiller's quarters so far from his own?
"Starkiller."
"My Lord?" This came from a brown haired, brown eyed, six year old.
"I have a task for you."
"Who do you need eliminated, My Lord?" I will finally be able to prove myself!
"I require you to guard something...'fragile.'"
"My Lord?"
"This is my daughter. If any harm comes to her you may consider your life forfeit."
"I will not fail you, My Lord." If one hair on her head is touched I will cut off my own- with a lightsaber!
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"Lord Vader."
"My Master."
"I have a situation that needs attending to."
"Which scum do you need eliminated, my Master?" And why am I always your one man army?
"I hear you are guarding a fragile item."
"My Master?"
"You have a daughter. If her presence harms your performance consider her life forfeit."
"I will not fail you, my Master." And if you harm one hair on her head, I will run my lightsaber through yours.
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As Vader left the throne room he experienced a vague feeling of deja' vu, and dismissed it immediately. He then proceeded to wonder, yet again, why his quarters were so far from the emperor's. Every second that he was away from his daughter was another second in which she could be fall out a window, be hit by a speeder, accidentally shot, skewer herself on Starkiller's lightsaber- he needed to put a childproof lock on that, kidnapped, brainwashed, murdered, or scratch herself on the completely smooth walls of the room.
Vader quickened his pace.
Clone trooper whatever turned to his partner. "Was that Vader who just ran by here?"
Clone trooper whatever whatever was a bit more intelligent than his friend/identical brother/clone. "Lord Vader does not run."
Whatever nodded. "So that didn't just happen."
Whatever whatever remained standing at attention. "Works for-er.. Correct trooper."
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Being that Vader 'did not run,' he walked very rapidly towards Starkiller's rooms. As he approached he heard an extremely shrill cry.
"NO! Yaw killing-"
Vader didn't hear the rest as he was already knocking the blast door off its non-existent hinges.
Only to be embraced by a very relieved Starkiller. "Oh, My Lord," he sobbed, "you have come to rescue me!"
Vader looked around the room. A perfectly intact and unharmed Leia was glaring at Starkiller. "Siwy boy. You have to hold the baby wight side up." She looked at Vader. "You tell him Daddy." The glare turned to puppy eyes.
Vader searched wildly for any sign of a child, completely disregarding the wreck of once neat room. Having found no children other than the obvious ones, Vader asked the only sane question. "What baby?"
Leia pouted. "My baby!"
Vader felt the beginnings of a heart attack, before remembering that five year olds cannot have children.
Starkiller offered a cushion. "She means this my Lord. She claims it is a baby?"
Leia rolled her eyes. "We're playing house. I'm the Mommy, he's the Daddy," she pointed a pudgy finger at Vader,"your the Gwandaddy, and dat's the baby."
Starkiller looked helplessly at Vader. "I am sorry, My Lord. I had no practical experience with play. I did not know how it worked."
Leia laughed. "You don' pwactical play. You jus do it. All kids pway."
Vader sighed. "Starkiller does not play, Leia."
Leia pouted. "Why not?" Without waiting for an answer she turned to Starkiller. "How old awe you?"
"Err...six," Starkiller offered, hoping the tiny terror would except this answer.
"See?" Leia glared at Vader. "He's a kid. Why doesn't he pway?"
"..." For the time in quite a while Vader had no answer. It had suddenly occurred to him that Starkiller was a child. And really Starkiller was too big a name for such a small being. "You are correct Leia. Galen, you are going to school."
Starkiller blinked, looked over his shoulder and turned 360 degrees before realising he was back at his starting point. As he had thought, there was no one else in the room. Starkiller sincerely hoped that the strange girls madness was not infecting his poor, innocent master. There was only one way to be sure. "My Lord, who is Galen?"
Vader shut his eyes. "Can you not recall your own name," he snapped irritably, though how anyone could tell through the filter...
Starkiller looked even more confused, which five seconds ago Vader would not have believed possible. In fact he would not have believed it three seconds ago. Which just goes to show...not even Vader is always right. "Galen..is my...name?" Since when?
Vader would have been pulling his hair out, had he any to pull that was. Surely it had not been that long since he had taken the boy as his apprentice? It had been three years ago/ Oh, wait, three was half of six wasn't it. Never mind, he remembered things from half a life time ago. Not that he liked to remember. Maybe that was Galen's problem...
Oddly, that made Vader feel much better about everything.
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"What do you mean my apprentice cannot begin school immediately?" Vader thundered at the hapless principle of Coruscant's most elite academy.
"I am teribly sorry, M'Lord," please don't kill me...please don't kill me, "but I can not start school in middle of summer vacation!"
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AUthors' Note: If you did not laugh while reading this there must be something seriously wrong with you that only chocolate can cure. Unless...You're not one of those 'interesting' people who don't like chocolate. GASP! The horror.
Well, it's either that, or you don't read English and clicked on this by mistake. In which case we forgive you, and suggest you find someone to translate this into whatever language you currently read. Oh, wait, you don't understand this, do you? Well, that was a waste of space.
