A/N: Ok, another chapter! Plz enjoy and leave some love for the author Thanks!

**PS, duh, nothing is mine, except my OC's. SW and its eternal awesomeness is Disney's and hopefully the next trilogy will be EPIC!

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SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.28—Consumed by Darkness

Dromerick's mad obsessiveness had compelled him to remain in the control center long after everyone else had abandoned the area.

The fire was spreading rapidly; and all fire extinguishing systems had mysteriously gone "offline."

Most of the staff were either sensible enough or terrified enough to flee the immediate area, trying either to get out entirely or at least to areas that weren't consumed yet by the spreading fire. Luke couldn't see outside, but by the time he kicked the door in, most of the base was consumed in smoke.

Something flickered in the back of his mind, and for an instant he saw purple, but he quickly pushed it away.

Dromerick spun around from punching keys frantically; his eyes were wide and crazed. He pulled out a concealed blaster, a sleek, heavily modified model.

"This won't stop anything," he snarled in a low, threatening tone. "You'll never escape me!"

Luke deftly dodged the onslaught of blaster fire that Dromerick sent at him; he leapt onto the console, pivoting on his heel to kick the blaster from Dromerick's hand. A second kick to Dromerick's face sent the man flying.

Luke looked to the bird. "Can you get into the systems? Make this place lock down and self-destruct?"

The bird nodded, and found a terminal.

"No!" Dromerick yelled, getting to his knees. "You can't! My life's work-!"

"Is over," Luke coldly declared, tucking his boot's toe under the blaster which had landed near him; he flipped it neatly up into his hand. He aimed it at the other's head. Behind him, he heard the computer's vocabulator announce self-destruct in 3 minutes. In the distance, he began to hear the corridor's many doors slamming shut in lock-down.

Whoever was still in the base was now trapped. Anyone who'd already gotten away they'd have to hunt down and kill, Luke grimly realized.

The months of pain, agony, fear, uncertainty and a whirlwind of other emotions rose, wailing in Luke's mind, drowning out all else as he cocked the blaster. Dromerick though, caught his hesitation and smirked.

"Go ahead, boy," the scientist coolly drawled, "kill me. You've already lost."

Luke's body began to shake. No; he was lying, he had to be—

Dromerick saw and chuckled. "Am I? I've changed you, forever," he grinned wide, "and you'll not elude notice for long. You only look human, but underneath, you're the very monster I intended to create."

Luke's emotions exploded into an all-out typhoon. No! There had to be a way to reverse…to make himself normal again.

This can't be permanent! He can't be damned to this life!

His body shook harder. Dromerick leaned forward, leering wickedly.

"No matter where you go boy, you'll be living a lie, pretending to be what you're not—and what you never can be." He chuckled. "You'll be an outcast throughout the galaxy, surrounded by normal peoples while you live a freak, an abomination; I've won. My work will go on as long as you live."

Then I won't live, Luke resolved, not after this.

Luke caught Ben wince at that part; he felt suddenly very tired and empty. The Jedi's encouraging hand lightly squeezing his shoulder helped him re-center. He pressed on.

Luke shook his head slowly at the other, his voice frigid with determination.

"No," he calmly retorted, "your work will end today—all of it."

Dromerick's eyes widened with understanding.

Luke didn't stop firing till the cell was beeping 'low power' and Noc was pulling frantically at his sleeve for them to flee.

Noc hit him with a wing to snap him out of it. Luke shook himself back to awareness and looked down- swallowed hard.

He hadn't realized that the blaster was in fact a rapid-fire model.

It eventually registered that he couldn't tell Dromerick had once owned a head—or upper torso.

Luke swallowed hard, shaking again. He felt a wretch coming.

Noc pulled him away. They fled, Luke throwing aside the blaster.

He couldn't believe what he'd just done.

And he couldn't deny he'd in fact become the monster Dromerick promised he would be.

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Ben said nothing. Luke swallowed hard, feeling his eyes fill. He waited for the Jedi's condemning words about 'killing in cold blood' and 'doing the right thing.'

None came.

He cautiously peered at the Jedi, as the first tear trickled down his cheek.

Ben only pursed his thin lips together; reaching out he wiped the tear away.

"I'm not going to judge you, Luke," he quietly said, "you were…abominable things were done to you. And you acted to stop him from inflicting the same on others."

Luke gulped down the guilt; shaking his head. "It wasn't just that," he lowly confessed. "I…wanted revenge. What he said before I killed him…I," he shuddered, "I could feel…it was true, what he told me. I would live a lie…forever…I'd be a lie, forever." He sighed in resignation, putting his face in both hands.

This was madness, Luke rebuked himself. An assassin does not feel, he only acts; an assassin knows no regret, he only learns, advances. Mistakes, if one survives them, are lessons, nothing more.

There is no remorse, only the opportunity to be more proficient next time.

He held back another sigh.

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Ben softly squeezed his wrist, prompting him to go on. He had thought about assuring Luke that he was not damned to this path forever, but no.

Luke clearly wasn't ready to hear that yet, to believe it yet.

The wound had to be re-opened first, be allowed to bleed clean. Then Luke would be receptive, once he was cleansed from the infection twisting his thinking. Ben's stomach wrenched in guilt.

Would that have helped Anakin? Had Obi-Wan cornered his one-time brother into admitting whatever it was that was slowly eating him away, would 'lacerating' that pain have saved him from the dark side?

Ben would never know.

No; he couldn't think of that now. Anakin had made his choices, tragic and terrible as they had been, but Luke needed Ben now.

Luke was dancing too close to the black precipice his father had fallen into; Ben wouldn't allow him to follow Anakin's self-condemning fate.

"Where does Fade fit into this?" he gently coaxed instead. He reached out and lightly patted her head, which had become a little more solid, along with the rest of her.

My; she did recuperate fast, didn't she?

That seemed to jar Luke a bit back into reality. "After," he whispered, still partly lost in…wherever he was.

"After what?" was the mild reply.

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Vader carefully watched the tracking screen from the DS's main control center.

The homing beacon placed on the intruding freighter was sending a perfect signal back as to its progress. By now, the princess, Jedi and their misguided entourage would be relaxed after a barrage of premature celebrating and congratulations on their 'success.'

Vader smirked behind his mask.

Oh, there was success to be had—his.

Surely Specter would accompany them; the assassin was too thorough by nature and clearly too compassionate as well to act in any other fashion.

Vader's eyes narrowed at that.

A compassionate assassin; until today, he had never believed such a creature existed. Assassins were apathetic, focused only on profit and 'the job.' They might possess fleeting sympathies over this or that galactic issue, such as the civil war, but beyond that, they were emotional black holes; voids.

So…why was the most skilled and infamous of them all different?

It was an intriguing mystery, far too tantalizing for Vader to ignore. The dark side seemed to wrap around the Sith Lord at that moment, whispering that unraveling the assassin's 'emotional anomaly' was the key to not only capturing him, but uncovering who he was.

Vader had tried summoning the dark side to reveal the boy's true identity, and while the dark side had grappled to do his bidding, it seemed to crash against a wall; some sort of impenetrable…something, was protecting the child.

What could be that powerful? Surely not a Jedi, Vader intuited. No, it had to have been whatever that thing was that snatched the boy through the floor just as Vader was about to secure his victory.

The Specter had nearly been his; Vader hissed in anger. Officers and enlisted men around him quietly found tasks that took them farther away from the dark lord.

Vader held back the snort of disgust. Fools; all of them, as if a few meters made any difference to the dark side.

Vader wanted to shake his head at the irony. He had destroyed nearly all of the Jedi Order himself; only a handful of Jedi had escaped the bite of his blade.

But, after today, their Order would be extinct. And, in so doing, Vader would truly be alone.

It was repulsive, how fate dealt him this path. He eradicated all but a few of the Order, but in the whole of the galaxy they were the only adversaries who could provide him anything resembling equality in battle. Granted, he was still the superior of all of them; yet, Vader reflected on how the Jedi had allied together and faced him as a group, it had provide some small amount of challenge.

But, when he obliterated them, he would, in fact, condemn himself. He'd be a warrior without any true equals.

Vader's gaze returned to the screen. Yet; perhaps that would not be so. This strange boy who masqueraded as the galaxy's deadliest assassin, he was something more beneath his armor. Something that had begun to fascinate Vader; the child had fought as an assassin, by and far more adept than any Vader had ever encountered or heard tale of, and yet, he had sided with the Jedi, he had protected them which proved to Vader that the Specter considered the Sith superior in might and power to the Order as well-

-which betrayed sense and vision, more impressive still by the Specter's youthful age.

Vader let out a long breath. And so, it may not be the end after all. Once the Jedi were gone, this mysterious boy may be the one to step into the void, take the Jedi's place as Vader's only true opposition. There were qualities in the child that Vader had detected almost at once: decisiveness, cunning, strategic shrewdness, discernment and methodical focus.

In other words, traits of a born leader—

The thought lit in Vader's mind then, almost of its own volition: would the elusive Specter join the rebellion? Would he fall prey to their pleas of help?

The princess's charm-filled persuasion, would it break past his professional barriers of not getting more involved?

Vader wondered.

But, if the boy did join, that would prove all the better. Once the DS arrived at the rebels' precious base, they would surely mount some desperate attack to save themselves.

If the Specter proved as compassionate towards them, as protective, as he had with the Jedi, he'd certainly feel compelled to aid them; he'd be part of the attack force.

Vader could easily cripple his ship and take the boy prisoner, sparing him from being destroyed with the rebels' secret base.

He smiled, ignoring how it stretched the scarred tissue and burned his face.

It was perfect; he'd destroy the Jedi Order and the rebellion in one blow…plus take for himself an apprentice.

Together they'd overthrow Palpatine and make the galaxy as it was always meant to be.

He observed as the marker of the YT-model freighter continued on in hyperspace. Vader had been mentally disqualifying where they could possibly be heading based on their trajectory.

The dark side gathered around him, whispering into his intuition the location.

And suddenly, he knew; unyielding certainty filled him on where their base was to be found.

Vader restrained the disdainful hiss as he sensed Tarkin stalk up behind him.

No, he amended silently; today he'd end the Jedi, the rebels—and the Emperor's pet governor.

"Well?" Tarkin demanded, "I took an awful risk, Vader. Did it work?"

Vader waited a long moment; wanting to chuckle at the tension soundlessly exploding around them as the control center staff watched their two powerful leaders clash wills.

"You may relax, Governor," Vader drawled condescendingly at length, turning to take in Tarkin's anger-pinched face, "the beacon is secure. Tell the navigation crew to set course for the fourth moon of Yavin."

Tarkin's eyes widened. "Why is that?"

Vader debated whether to laugh or strangle the man. He elected neither—for now. "Because, Governor," he slowly replied, "that is the location of their base."

He made to stride away, deciding he'd given Tarkin far more of his time than he'd deserved.

"Are you certain?" Tarkin barked after him, "Did they land?"

"Not yet," Vader calmly replied, halting imperiously and half-facing him, "but you will make course all the same…unless you have not successfully repaired the station after your…plan went awry?"

The last was dripping sarcasm. Vader smiled at the shade of scarlet washing over the other man's face and the nervous twitches of their onlookers. Specter had humiliated Tarkin, thorough and irrevocably and they both knew it—along with everyone else present.

Once report was made to Imperial Center, only a crushing victory would offer Tarkin any hope of salvaging what was left of his once illustrious—and ruthless—reputation.

And Tarkin was a ruthless and efficient man—pity for him he hadn't counted on Specter being even more so.

Pity for Tarkin; Vader had been relishing in it ever since the assassin's escape. He was certain Tarkin knew that too.

"The station is fully repaired and operational," was the bit out retort, "we will set course at once," Tarkin clipped out, turning to an officer with an expression that clearly said: See to it, "we will wipe the rebellion out is existence and end this once and for all."

Vader offered an indifferent wave. "I'll be in my chambers; have someone notify me when we arrive there."

And he was away without a backwards glance. Once alone in the corridors he permitted himself a soft snicker.

No matter how Tarkin behaved now, his fate was sealed. There were too many men who'd seen Vader kill Jedi, Vader battle Specter, Vader order the beacon to be placed on the freighter.

And far too many men had beheld Tarkin's rants of temper, Tarkin's inefficiency, Tarkin's impotence in handling the crisis of viral takeover aboard the DS; and Tarkin's pronounced failure against the Jedi and Specter.

Plus, allowing their chief prisoner, the princess- plus many rebel prisoners- to escape, with only Vader acting to glean some gain from the catastrophe.

And Tarkin was in charge of the DS, not the dark lord. It was too delicious.

The Emperor would thank him now, for when he killed Tarkin; punishment for failure…and embarrassing the Empire.

Embarrassing Palpatine. The immanency of revenge filled Vader's mouth with a delectably sweet taste.

Vader entered his chambers; they were, as all of his quarters, sparsely furnished but proficient.

Vader had no care for wealth, luxury, adornments; pointless distractions, all of them- unnecessary.

No; he made for his meditation area. He wanted to see if he could reach out and locate the Specter.

Before the battle, they had to have…a little talk.

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A/N: Yeah, I didn't plan it this way, but Vader kinda took over this chapter. But, I let him cause he's awesome. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I LUV to hear your thoughts, both returning reviewers and new ppl! Don't be shy! It was my b-day 2 days ago, so you could consider a review a b-day present Anyways, till next time; plz also include any questions you might have! BTW, for those of you who were asking, the 'big revelation' wasn't in this chapter, that's still coming, like I said, I didn't intend for Vader to take this chapter over, but he said he'd Force choke me if I resisted, so yeah. Till next time