Chapter 4: Soulmates
After three long, slow days had passed, Vader was becoming increasingly bored. It was one thing to come here when he had personal issues to settle and strategies to consider, but quite another to be forced to take a retreat one did not really need.
All he'd done was kill one worthless politician. It was hardly a serious crime. When he had first joined his master, the man had delighted in his killings, encouraging him at every opportunity. When he now exercised the skills his master had taken such pride in teaching him, this was the reward he received?
The thought made him increasingly angry, but he did not let it go. A Sith drew his power from anger, and if he ever hoped to heal himself and restore order to this galaxy, he would need every bit of anger he could possibly muster.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, he occupied himself by going for a walk outside. The retreat was located in the center of an island, which was also home to a hostile and dangerous eco-system. Even the water was poisonous to all but specifically adapted life. Vader knew it had been built here to ensure the privacy of the first occupant, but he was also aware of the correlation between the native and the Sith method of accomplishing goals.
Sitting unchallenged at the top of the food chain was a monstrous species the first explorers of the planet had dubbed 'gargoyles'. Early Sith occupants of the retreat had obviously taken great pleasure in the sheer brutality of these creatures, as the log books were scattered with references to their single-minded killer instinct. One passage, which stood out in Vader's mind, described an eye-witness account of a parent and child fighting each other to the death. On success, the child subsequently devoured its own parent. Such was the level of aggression, that Vader found it hard to fathom how they managed to raise their young at all.
It wasn't difficult to see the relationship with the Sith. They, too, were powerful beings who accomplished their goals through aggressive means. One wrong move, and they, too, could end up fighting each other to the death. But in the meantime, the master had to train the apprentice, and the apprentice had to learn from the master, so it was better to avoid such confrontations. In his own case, he admired what his master had done and was in the process of doing for the galaxy. It was an honor to serve at his side. Enough of an honor, that he chose to remain here, despite his boredom.
Vader paused on top of a rise, surveying the view. On the western horizon, he could see a jagged outline of another island. Moving dots were coming and going from the highest peak and faint cries could be heard in the wind. It must be the gargoyle's breeding season, as that was the only time they would hunt during the day. Hungry offspring who ate three times their body weight in a day called for desperate measures. Such desperate measures, in fact, that he would have to watch his own back.
Vader couldn't help but wonder at the irony of parenthood, as he turned to complete the journey back to the retreat. The unfortunate situation of the gargoyles was a perfect example. Draining yourself day and night, to feed a demanding offspring who would likely kill you in the future. Even a witless animal should be able to see the severe imbalance in that relationship. Yet they still continued to participate. But even their situation was nothing compared to an intelligent species native to the planet Ubessa. The males died within an hour of impregnating the female, who in turn died after laying the eggs.
What was it then, that attracted people to parenthood? It all seemed so illogical and yet ... there was a faded memory, somewhere in the depths of his mind.
"Ani ... I'm pregnant."
Vader paused, angrily shaking his head. It was weak and foolish and ... that person was gone, that life was gone ... 'Anakin' did not exist. And the child had died with her.
A nearby yowl caused him to forget his pain and draw his lightsaber in preparation.
He moved around the side of a rock and saw the creature concerned. It was a greenish-skinned gargoyle, scratched and bleeding. A predatory sea bird was attacking it in a methodical fashion, while the creature twisted round and round in a losing battle to keep it away. One of its wings hung limply by its side, undoubtedly injured in a fight with one of its own kind.
It was somewhat humbling to see such a powerful creature taken down by something scarcely a quarter of its size. Vader wondered why the gargoyle didn't run for cover. Its wing may be broken, but its legs looked healthy. Instead, it held its ground, becoming ever weaker. It was looking increasingly like the bird was going to have a gourmet feast tonight. Vader was about to turn away and let nature run its course, when curiosity caused him to glance back, one last time. There was truly something odd about the gargoyle's behavior.
It was a coincidence that Vader happened to look in the right direction, revealing the solution to this puzzle. Camouflaged among the reddish-toned rocks, was a gargoyle cub, barely the length of his arm. So, this dying creature was a mother protecting her young. That explained the irrational behavior. Vader stepped forward, seeking confirmation that this was indeed the situation, and the bird and the creature were not simply fighting each other for a meal.
His movement out of the shadow attracted the attention of the bird, who gave a loud squawk and flew for the sky. In the ensuing second, the gargoyle also noticed his presence and rushed at him. Vader held his lightsaber ready, but the creature turned away at the last minute, obviously not willing to move too far away from the hidden youngling.
Its wing was dragging roughly on the ground and its body was heaving with ragged breaths. Vader was not surprised when it keeled over, finally exhausted. It would be nothing but dust by tomorrow.
He walked around the body, curious about the cub. It was not just anyone who was given the opportunity to see a gargoyle cub up close. In all truth, he was probably the first.
The young creature was equally curious about him. It squealed at the sight of him and shuffled out of its hiding place. Its wings were only bumps on its shoulders, but it waved them back and forth rapidly.
Vader picked it up, surprised at how light it was. Strange to think that this creature would soon be as monstrous as its dying parent.
The youngling let out a raspy crying sound, having caught sight of its mother. Vader put it down, allowing it to shuffle across the gap between them. It crawled up on to the body, continuing to bawl with agonized howls.
Vader felt his dormant temper begin to rise. He knew how that young creature felt, despite the vast physical differences between them. He could still remember that terrible day, when he had stood over his own mother's body, unable to find any sense in her death. Anakin was gone ... long gone ... but the anger and hatred remained. It would always remain. It was part of him, now.
A far deeper howl, stirred Vader from his tortured memory, and he was surprised to see the adult gargoyle had managed to lift its head.
So, it wasn't quite dead after all.
Another position he was quite familiar with. Having a body so injured, so weak, it made no sense that it could continue to house one's spirit and yet it refused to give it up. Holding it prisoner, in a broken, shattered shell.
It seemed he had found a pair of soul-mates in these creatures.
It had been a simple distraction, at the time. An idle way to pass the days until he could break this forced exile and return to civilization. But before he knew it, these monsters had become attached to him, and he to them.
It appealed to him, on some level. It was only fitting that a Sith Lord should have a pair of monsters as his devoted pets.
But as he had nursed the adult back to health and hand-reared the youngling, he had discovered that these creatures were somewhat undeserving of their infamous reputation. They were aggressive, certainly, and they were carnivores. But the parent and child displayed a devotion to each other of an intensity he had never seen in a non-sentient animal.
And they weren't mother and child, as he had first assumed, but father and son.
The father was nothing short of doting. He refused to eat anything until he had seen that his son had eaten first. He became flustered and upset if his offspring wasn't in his immediate vicinity and would spend long hours grooming and cleaning his cub, despite his weak condition.
The son was curious and playful, wanting to explore every millimeter of the retreat. Vader discovered him in the strangest of places. In cupboards, under chairs. Even stuck on top of a bookcase, on one memorable occasion. The cub was too adventurous for his own good, appearing unaware that his wings were still only buds. It was good that his parent kept a tight rein on him, or it was unlikely he would live to see his first set of fangs.
By the end of the second week, the adult had regained partial use of his wing, due to Vader's care. He couldn't fly long distances, but he was quite capable of hunting to provide for both himself and his cub. Vader expected the pair to move on and return to the wild where they belonged. They had other ideas, however. Ideas which involved spending most of their day sleeping in various nests they had built around the retreat, their favorite places being in his personal rooms.
Three days before he left Lygun, Vader finally relented and gave them names. The adult had a greenish sheen to its thick hide, where as the youngling was a brownish-red. Seeing as the pair were nearly inseparable, he decided to name them after a two-headed podrace announcer he had known in his youth. Fode and Beed.
As he boarded his flight, on the final day of his exile, he couldn't help but feel a slight ... regret, as the two creatures sat nearby, clearly aware of his imminent departure. He would have liked to bring them back to Coruscant, but he doubted city life would agree with them.
Still, he would be back, soon enough.
