Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles
Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins
Chapter 10
Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.
The Imperial shuttle settled gently into a perfect landing; a satisfied sigh escaped the pilot. Ah, yes, Vader, you still have it! That was a first rate landing, even if I do say so myself, and even if it is on the planet I swore never to revisit. Now if only this errand makes it a worthwhile trip... He was investigating the validity of a claim made for the reward Palpy had posted, hoping to find the remains of Vader's TIE fighter, an advanced experimental model known as the TIE-AXl. Vader hadn't recognized the name of his contact, but the model and registration numbers matched those from that thrice cursed fighter he'd let his pirate rescuers keep. Therefore, he was almost certain that this rendezvous would be with Jetscar and his cohorts. Spying the approach of what was certainly his contact, Vader stood to leave the shuttle. At the entrance, he hesitated. With thousands -- no, millions! -- of worlds to choose from, why the bloody blue blazes did Jett have to choose Tatooine? Vader had sworn that he would never: set foot here again, and yet here he was. A deep breath and he strode out onto the sandy surface of his despised home world.
Jetscar's enthusiasm was at its usual overflowing level. "Vader! My man! Good to see you, good to see you!" He enveloped Vader in a backslapping bear hug.
Vader reciprocated, although a bit awkwardly; this type of camaraderie was new to him; he found himself liking it. "Jett. How are you? I had a feeling that I'd be meeting you here…"
Jetscar's laugh matched his outgoing personality, and boomed about the landing pad. "Feeling, huh? Well, of course you did, you being a Sith lord and all. I figured that you'd see through the alias, but you understand how it is."
"No problem there, Jett, but why here? Why choose this Force-forsaken endless sea of sand?"
Jetscar glanced cautiously around, then answered in a quieter tone. "Well, I used to live here, back when I was a kid. Ran away when my mother died. Since I had always seemed to be in trouble, anyway, my Old Man washed his hands of me; gave out that I had died, too. Old Cliegg was a hard man, though I guess I was a pretty wild kid, always sneaking off to watch pod races or hobnobbing with smugglers and such at the spaceport; moisture farming bored me to death! The Old Man could have just disowned me, but, no, not old Cliegg! He even told my kid brother that I was dead!"
Vader was getting a rather funny feeling about Jett's story; tenuous connections formed in his mind -- Cliegg? -- wife died? --kid brother? -- He ventured a discreet question -- just what was Jetscar's actual given name? He knew it probably wasn't Jetscar...
"Oh, no! I never tell anyone my given name, any more than you do, Vader, but my family name... now that is 'Lars' -- Why? What's it matter?" The pirate shook his head. "I used to wonder what happened to the kid; he was always the 'good son' so I guess he did OK -- I heard that the Old Man bought himself a new wife from some Toydarian junk dealer in Mos Espa -- just shows what kind of a man he wasAt least poor little Owen had a mother figure for awhile... Hope she was good to him."
Vader was having trouble believing this! If his suspicions were correct, he had found a second, previously unknown, stepbrother in Jetscar Lars. That made Jett's unknown stepmother none other than Shmi Skywalker Lars! Yes, she would have been good to Owen, and the boy had loved her in return. He quietly said to Jett, "I'm sure she was, Jett. So your reasons for choosing this hellhole of a planet were entirely... personal?"
"Yeah, Vader. Thought maybe I could go out to the old homestead, visit Ma's grave, spit on the Old Man's... maybe reintroduce myself to Baby Bro. Want to come along? Meet Owen? Been about thirty years since I've seen him -- he probably won't believe that I'm his long-lost big brother."
Vader had good reason to know that his pirate friend couldn't hold any family reunions, not in this life, anyway. He certainly wasn't going to volunteer that information, though. "Don't think so, Jett. I'm not all that fond of Tatooine; I'll just stay here and meditate while you're gone, figure out what to do about the TIE-AXl. After all, I did tell the Emperor that I had crashed it, so its present excellent condition sort of blows my story."
Jetscar's booming laugh reverberated in the relatively enclosed space between their ships. "I can see you might have a problem, there, Bro. But what you got against Tatooine, old buddy? It's not all that bad, hot and dry and the sand is annoying, but you get used to it. "
Yeah, sure, and Mustafar produces glaciers! He'd spent more than twenty years trying to totally erase Tatooine from memory, and the ten before that trying not to recall anything of it except his mother... His mother... He reached a sudden decision. "If you don't mind, maybe I will go with you, after all, Jett. Why don't you let me fly you out there, and I can stay in the shuttle, wait for you…." There was absolutely no way that he would actually go near Shmi's grave; that mute testimony to his failure would surely bring out Anakin. Aboard the shuttle Vader could at least contain his other self's reactions...
"Hey, yeah! That's real human of you, Vader. It's way over by Mos Eisley and Anchorhead. Think you can find it?" Jett liked the idea of company on his pilgrimage.
"Oh yes, my friend, I will find it." Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Vader would never forget... not the homestead... not the camp of the Tuskens... not bringing poor Shmi's body home to Cliegg for burial. "Get aboard. It won't take us long." He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the aching influx of Anakin's memories.
During the short hop, Jetscar waxed eloquent about his family. "I heard that Owen and his wife never had kids of their own, though they did raise some orphan kid, probably a relative; even as a little boy, Owen had a strong sense of family responsibility. You got any kids, Vader?"
Vader admitted that he had a son, raised by one of Vader's own stepbrothers. "My wife died, I couldn't raise a kid, not with my job." Yeah, right! A ruthless Sith lord, scourge of the Galaxy, trying to play daddy -- that would be a laugh, although a very bitter one, especially with Palpatine in the picture, trying to steep him in evil from the get-go. "Anyway, we're ... um... estranged and out of touch right now. He thinks he's a Jedi and is out running around the Galaxy, playing Rebel. Imagine, my son -- a Rebel! I can deal with the Jedi part, but a Rebel against my Empire…."
Jett agreed that kids could be a royal pain. "I got three -- you've met my boys, they're part of my crew. Got a girl, too. Marsiella ran off with a gambler, left him for some guy worked for the Empire. Last I heard, Marsi was working on a spice freighter as a who-knows-what -- and I don't think I want to know. At least, far as I know, she doesn't have any kids to be dragging around the Galaxy."
So Vader was an uncle -- well, step uncle. Would I be Uncle Vader? Or Uncle Anakin? Come to think of it, Padme had had nieces... I've been an uncle all along! I do have family, but, except for my son, I can never dare claim any of them. And, if the Emperor ever learns of this particular tidbit, I'll probably become bantha fodder in the most painful way imaginable!
They reached the homestead. Even as disturbed as his thoughts were, Vader's instincts brought them in to a flawless landing. For the first time, he could see the shocking devastation wrought by the troopers of 'Vader's Fist' in their ruthless search for the droids He stared in numb silence; he'd observed, in callous disregard, other such scenes of their making, but none other had held the personal impact of this.
Jetscar's view was more pragmatic. "Looks like a Tusken's attack. Poor Owen. At least someone gave them a decent burial afterward." He rose. "I'll be back in a little while -- I'm going to the graves -- though maybe I won't spit on the Old Man's after all. Then I'll look around, see if it'd be worthwhile to clean things up -- guess it's mine now" He left Vader alone on the shuttle.
Vader absently nodded and continued to stare at the ruins. As he stared, he felt Anakin stir within his mind in response to the scene outside. I'm so sorry, Mom. I know that your loving Owen and his father didn't lessen your love for me. And this... I didn't know, Mom! I didn't know! It's not my fault... it's not! It's not! And then, behind Vader's mask, Anakin's tears came... tears of grief and loss, tears of real mourning that he had not let himself shed at the time of Shmi's passing. With every tear, Anakin at last let go of the pain of losing his mother, allowed himself to let go of the anger, to remember only the happier memories, when he'd been very young and full of dreams...
Finally, Vader removed his mask and respirator, and wiped away the tears. He then attempted to force Anakin back into the recesses of his mind. But Anakin was empowered by the release of emotions and resisted. He and his alter ego began to argue, with Vader apparently talking to himself:
"Look, Anakin, I am in charge here; get back in there where you belong!"
He could hear Anakin's voice in his mind, but also heard himself saying the words. "Who is in charge? And excuse me, but this is my body; I was here first!"
"I'm a Sith lord! I am more powerful than you ever were or ever could be!"
"Yeah, yeah. Big freaking deal!" jeered Anakin's voice. "You are just the Emperor's flunky! I was Jedi -- the most powerful Jedi that ever lived... and I could have become more powerful still! Palpatine promised"
It was Vader's turn to jeer; "Yeah, right! Just look how well he keeps his promises! Do you know how to stop Death? Do I? For that matter, does he? Except for himself, that is. And even he…"
"Just give him time, help him find the answers."
"Padme is dead, Anakin. We couldn't save her, and he didn't want to."
Anakin's voice hesitated. "Yeah, I sort of noticed that. But right now I am the one who is out here. You let me out and I am staying out. I'm sick of all the killing and terrorism -- it gives me nightmares!"
"It gives you nightmares? What do you think I have? I'm just glad I can't remember them."
Anakin snickered. "Those sure haven't been nightmares lately! And anyway, Padme was my wife, not yours, Mr. Big Shot Sith Lord; she loved me -- you killed her! You just reached out with you hand and squee --"
Vader interrupted. He had no desire to listen to his alter ego describe the scene which triggered his worst migraines. "Actually, Palpy has told so many lies that I'm not even so sure about that anymore. But you were there, too -- you could have stopped me!"
"As drunk on power as you were that night? You have to be kidding! Not even your precious Master could have stopped you! You just reached out -- "
"Anakin, shut up! I don't want to hear it! Obi-Wan stopped me. I dropped her, and she was breathing -- I heard her! This son I'm chasing is no phantom -- he is Padme's child, raised right here by Owen Lars."
"And you believed that old pile of bantha fodder? Our son? What makes you think he told the truth for once? Like that one about no longer being able to have a sex life? And getting the emdees to back him up? How did you miss noticing - for years- that somebody had to be lying in that matter? And everyone always thought I was naive about women! Well, Mr. Scourge of the Galaxy, you may be intimidating, but where women are concerned, you are still without a clue! And you have had twenty-some years to figure it out…"
Anakin was nearly as annoying as Palpatine. Vader itched to retaliate, but Anakin's rebellion was preventing him from having the power to do more than use words. "Oh go do something anatomically impossible to yourself, and just shut up!"
Jett reentered the shuttle in the middle of the last exchange. He chuckled, but without his usual heartiness. "Hey Vader, old boy! Talking to yourself, huh? And answering, too, by the sounds of it. You sure sound drunk to me! Where you been keeping the hooch? Or did you already drink it all? Come on, man, I need a drink -- bad! Where's the nearest cantina?"
Startled, Anakin was the dominant personality, with Vader still struggling to regain control. "A drink? Right! Sounds good to me, Jett. Nothing to drink on this heap! Somebody who shall remain nameless doesn't believe in it anymore!" (Come on, Anakin -- get real! We have to share this body and if I can't drink, then neither can you.) " We'll have to go over to Mos Eisley - there's sure to be a cantina or two there." With that, Anakin savagely lifted off; they were soon in a bar and ordering drinks.
Anakin! you don't want to do this! You'll undo years of my -- our-- hard-won sobriety! I can't let you! I won't fail again! I won't! The threat to his continuing battle against alcoholism gave Vader the extra power he needed to reassert himself. He finally suppressed Anakin again, cramming him firmly down into a tiny corner, and Vader was once more dominant. It had happened so rapidly that Jett never even noticed a difference. Vader suddenly pushed his drink over to Jett. "On second thought, Jett, you take mine too; I'm the designated pilot here. I'll have something nonalcoholic." He ordered fruit juice and mineral water. The bartender was inclined to sneer, until he realized with whom he was dealing. Then he brought out the very best water, no extra charge.
Jett laughed. "Already had enough, huh? Wish I'd known where you kept it -- I could have used a couple of shots before I looked over the old homestead." He sadly shook his head in memory, then abruptly downed both drinks and ordered another. "Vader, it was terrible -- nothing left whole, everything torn apart and destroyed, total wanton destruction! Owen and his family never had a chance. Those Tuskens are animals!"
No arguments there, thought Vader, and 'Vader's Fist' can be deadly as well! From deep within his tiny corner of Vader's mind, Anakin added, but a grief-stricken young Jedi seeking vengeance can do far worse...! Aloud, he merely said, "I'm sorry, Jett."
Jetscar stood up. "Order us another round or two, Vader old buddy, old pal. I have to go... uh... you know... um, see a man about a bantha... back in a few." He headed unsteadily toward a discreet sign in the rear. When he returned, he looked considerably more cheerful. "I called my boys, they're coming out to join us; ought to be here in a little bit."
Rrrright! thought Vader. A real family party. All it needs is for my son to walk through that door, with Jett's daughter and Padmé 's nieces. The two men continued talking companionably as they waited, with Jett steadily tossing down one drink after another. Vader was impressed by the man's capacity -- the tab for tonight would be astronomical! And it will have to go on my Imperial expense account. There will be no way to hide it from old Palpy. And he will think that I drank all this. Maybe I could lie... tell him that someone else accessed my account? After all, I did swear many times that I would never revisit Tatooine. Yeah, right! I always was a rotten liar. I'll just have to grin and bear it and hope that Palpy goes easy on me.
The 'boys' arrived. Vader vaguely remembered them -- they were every bit as big as their father, with an equally impressive capacity for strong drink, and were a quarrelsome pair. At some point late in the evening, Vader was forced to draw his light saber for aggressive mediation. The bartender quickly jumped into the fray.
"Hey! You! Sith lord! Don't care who you are! Take that lightsaber outside. Last guy came in here with one of those left a real mess behind! So out!"
Vader laughed and arranged payment of the bar bill. He and the Lars boys managed to get a protesting Jetscar outside, where Jett promptly passed out. His sons hoisted him to his feet, bade Vader goodnight, and left to board their own ship.
Vader watched their drunken progress, then went aboard his own shuttle. He and Jett could deal with the TIE-AX1 tomorrow. He needed some sleep himself. And a shower to wash off this infinitely cursed sand -- he even had it in uncomfortably personal places! Yes, a hot shower and then sleep. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Despite the emotional upheaval of the previous day, Vader's sleep remained nightmare-free. If he dreamed at all, he couldn't recall it and awoke refreshed. Overnight, though, he'd had an idea concerning the TIE-AX1 -- they could sell off most of its parts to junk dealers -- for those were still plentiful on Tatooine. Vader would take the registration plate and a key part or two back to the Emperor. Anything left could be discarded into space somewhere, maybe dropped onto an obscure planet -- the one where he claimed to have crashed -- what was its name -- Vall -- Ball -- Baal -- Vaal! -- that was it -- that would probably be the best place, would add validity to the story that Palpy seemed to be having trouble believing Jetscar could deal with it; Vader sensed that he could rely on the man to follow through.
Jetscar agreed, and they spent the day carrying out the plan. Once they had finished, there was very little left to discard, and the pirates had a tidy sum for profit, in addition to the credits of the Imperial reward. Vader mangled and scorched his selected pieces to simulate crash damage, and stowed them aboard his shuttle. Then he bade his companions a hearty farewell, and returned to Coruscant.
The ever suspicious Emperor had a standing order for reports on any unusual activity in Vader's Imperial expense accounts. And this, thought the accountant, was unusual enough to warrant the Emperor's immediate attention.
"He what? Charged that much in a bar? In one evening? And on Tatooine?" Palpatine was incredulous, First of all, what was Vader doing on Tatooine? He had sworn to never set foot there again. And in a bar? Vader claimed that he no longer drank alcohol, that it was medically prohibited. From the size of this bar bill, not only was he still drinking, but he had expanded his tolerance tenfold. He had consumed an incredible amount in one evening! Even allowing for a companion -- and women generally didn't drink much -- it was far more than the Emperor himself could ever drink. Anger at Vader for his blatant lies and deception quickly faded as Palpatine decided that drinking with his apprentice could now prove very dangerous. If the Master were to be overcome in Vader's presence….
After all, look what had happened to old Darth Plagueis when he let his guard down around his apprentice -- thrummm-swish! Bye-bye, Plagueis. And so the apprentice became the Master by default. Palpatine would rather not risk it, preferred to err on the side of caution; he had no illusions about Vader's secret ambitions. And just what woman had he been drinking with, anyway? Was Vader hanging out with prostitutes now? Did he imagine that he could father more children? Palpatine worried over that. His senses told him that there either was or would be another, in addition to the known son of Skywalker. And he had foreseen that a Skywalker would bring about his ending. Vader must not father more children. But then, he couldn't, could he? Or was that just something he'd told Vader? The Emperor could no longer be sure -- the lies told to his apprentice were starting to run together, until they were indistinguishable from truth. But he had better locate this woman and just make certain...
"But, Master, there was-no-woman! Just the three men who found the remains of my TIE-AX1 on Vaal! Look -- here is the registration plate. They chose the meeting place, not I!" Vader protested his Master's accusations. While he'd foreseen trouble over the big bill, he hadn't realized the full depths of Palpatines paranoia. A woman? From what wine-induced vision had he gotten that idea?
"Don't give me that, Vader! Don't play innocent with me, my young apprentice! I know that there was a woman-- why else would you spend an evening drinking in a bar? And you have lied to me! You still consume alcohol! I knew you were lying! I knew it!" Palpatine was working himself into a fine paranoid frenzy.
Vader decided that acknowledging a fault might stem the tide of his Master's escalating fury. "I'm sorry, Master. I've been remiss. I'll try to do better" There, I've apologized, but haven't really admitted to anything at all! Used to work with Obi-Wan; let's see if it appeases this old...
Stopped in mid-tirade, Palpatine changed course. He moderated his tone, and other than a few more querulous complaints over Vader's deception, he let the matter drop. However, Vader remained puzzled -- why was old Palpy suddenly so paranoid about any women in Vader's life? Unless you counted that room service delivery girl back on wherever, whose advances he'd spurned, and the Princess -- whom he hadn't seen in months, didn't attract him, and was far too young -- there were no women in Vader's life. And the one in his dreams was long dead. The man was losing it, he was definitely losing it!
Finally dismissed, Vader returned to his sometime office for more dreaded red tape and report filing. He couldn't read the fine print through his mask, and his arms needed to be longer to read without it. He adjusted the print size on the screen. It helped, but now things were a bit blurry and distorted and made his eyes ache. In disgust, he threw down the datapad, donned his mask, and went for a walk.
He descended to the street levels of the city. As he walked, he mused. The problem with his eyes was starting to irritate him. Whatever was wrong? He really hadn't noticed anything until the past few months, when he'd started having to handle so much official business. At first, he'd thought having an office of his own was cool; Padmé had had one and he'd been a smidge jealous. But now he was heartily sick of official documents and reports and even of signing his name, 'Vader', in a big bold scrawl. Reading the reports made his eyes ache and his head throb and his temper short. He wanted to be out in space -- a luxurious office on the 297th floor with a wall of glass was not the same at all! I am an action man; I need to be out and away and free! Instead, here I am, stuck in an office, right under old Palpy's inquisitive nose, and going blind from reading all the fine print... and the print seems to get finer by the day...! What is wrong with my eyes? He reached a decision and returned to his office, where he placed a call.
Later that afternoon, he entered the Imperial medical facility. The information desk directed him to the correct department -- Ophthalmology.
"Hello, Lord Vader. You are having trouble with your vision?" The droid seated him in front of some strange equipment which it proceeded to adjust to Vader's eye level. "It will be necessary for you the remove the mask portion of your helmet, Lord Vader, sir, if we are to check the condition of your eyes." It waited.
Vader complied, though he knew what they would tell him here -- he was going blind. While that would release him from the hated office work, it would also be the end of his beloved flying. He would be chained forever to old Palpy...
The droid made adjustments, looked into Vader's eyes, adjusted again, pressed buttons, and recalibrated yet again. It then interrupted Vader's musings to ask, "Is this any better, sir?"
Vader looked through the apparatus. Hey! This is good. The fine print is legible. But how...? He looked an inquiry at the droid who then explained that his eyes were merely aging, and needed some minor adjustments with a laser. They would do one eye today, the other in a week or two. Vader sighed in relief. "So I'm not going blind?"
He could swear that the droid chuckled -- sometimes they seemed almost annoyingly human! "Oh, no, Lord Vader. It is a normal phenomenon that all humans must face, sooner or later. You are just facing it sooner than many. However, you will be back to normal vision soon. Now relax, this will just take a few moments."
An hour later, Vader left the facility. The vision in one eye was extremely blurred, but he had been assured that, as it healed, it would soon clear to perfect vision. And then the other eye. Though he still reserved judgment, Vader was optimistic... the droid seemed to know all about this presbyopia and laser correction stuff. Just as long as Vader wasn't going blind, as he had feared.