Wheezer

Luke settled into his favorite recliner, blowing out a long breath to expel the day's tension. It had been a long and tedious afternoon filled with meeting after meeting, and Luke was more than ready to blow off a bit of steam.

He laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, running through a few calming exercises. When he felt at peace, Luke stood and got himself a glass of juba juice before retreating to his office where Mara's journal beckoned to him.

He settled comfortably into his office chair and retrieved the journal, eager to read her latest entry. Luke took a swig of his juice and then held the glass in one hand as he read, taking intermittent sips.

Darth Vader and I had a fun day together. He's an interesting character, that's for certain. He has a worse attitude than Wilhuff Tarkin, and that's saying something. I mean, at least you can pretty much read Tarkin's face, or rather, his eyes. And he doesn't hide behind a mask.

But Vader… that man drives me crazy! I mean, why does he wear that full-body suit? What's he hiding? Does he have a problem with sunlight? Is he ashamed of his appearance? Does he have Mysophobia? The man's office and living quarters—what I have seen of them anyway—are always spic and span, not a thing out of place… no smudges of dust, nada.

And then there's his breathing. I guess it's his calling card:

"Here comes Wheezer!"

Luke made the mistake of taking a drink just before reading that last and he sputtered into a coughing fit as he erupted into fits of laughter. He pounded his chest, trying to breath around his gags.

Finally he managed to stop choking and coughing and re-read the last passage with watery eyes.

"Here comes Wheezer?" He read aloud in a hoarse voice.

A huge grin spread across his face at this rare example of the true personality under the tough exterior.

Luke chuckled again at his father's appropriate nickname, as he had been dubbed by Mara.

Wheezer.

Luke shook his head, imagining Anakin Skywalker burying his head in his hands right about now.

Luke returned to the journal entry.

It is nearly impossible to not know Vader is in the vicinity. If his breathing didn't give it away, then the cold shiver that always precedes him would surely do the trick.

Anyway, Master ordered us to spar so that I could test my lightsaber skills in real-life combat.

I will say this about Palpatine's henchman. He knows how to wield his blade. I was hard-pressed to keep up with his vicious attacks. I wonder if that's how he spends his free time: dueling his expensive practice droids.

Anyway, he humiliated me in front of my master, though I guess I should've seen it coming. He's not the Emperor's second-in-command for nothing.

Well, I'll just avoid him as much as possible. But when Master puts us together, I will be the better person and be civil.

Maybe if I didn't fear the Emperor's reaction to my nickname for Vader, I'd share it with him. I think if I am feeling really bold one day I might let it slip to Vader.

Though he'd probably spear me on the spot… nasty temper and all.

So I will keep his name to myself.

Here's to Wheezer.

M.J