Chapter 10: Somnia

The freighter was a wreck. From the front it appeared to be relatively unscathed. The armoured grey alloy plating and reinforced blast shield that made up the rectangular bow was still intact, apart from the usual carbon scoring that came with regular space travel. Portside was much the same. But the rear of the ship, around where the main thrusters and hyperdrive were located, was a different story. As if the turbines themselves had exploded and ripped the engine bay to pieces.

Starboard side was in even worse condition than the rear. All panels supporting the cargo-hold access hatch had either been sheared off or mangled, and the fracture lines that littered the framework showed visible signs of stress. Vader strode around the ship, assessing the damage. It had not been attacked from what little evidence he could gather from the exterior. No pock markings that may have suggested laser fire, nor any other telling indications of such skirmish involvement. No ... something else had to be at play here.

Obviously, he was needing to take his investigation inside if he was to uncover the truth behind the ship's demise. He moved to the front and keyed his wrist-com. The freighter, as with the rest of the Imperial fleet, had been internally programmed with a secure master code that only he and the Emperor possessed. It granted exclusive access to any and all of the ships currently in service to their Empire. Access that came in useful in situations such as this. The underside hatch groaned and started to separate.

As the ramp lowered to the deck, the medic and scanning crew came rushing across the hangar. They pulled to a stop before him and stared at the ship.

"You sent for us, my Lord?" one of the two troopers asked putting the box-scanner down to the floor.

"Indeed, I did, trooper. Wait here," Vader said raising his hand. "I will call for you when ready." He then turned and made for the ramp, cloak swirling as he ascended into the main hold.

Weighted boots thundering, he entered what was left of the cargo containment area and proceeded to look around. Supply doors hung open; some semi-torn from their hinges. Deep scrapes and gouges were carved into the floor. Broken free power cables dangled from between dislodged ceiling panels and arced mid-air. Several crates were pinned against the cabin walls and one sat wedged inside the gaping blast hole.

He bent down and picked up a piece of discarded crash webbing. Turned it over in his hands. Rubbed the orange fibres between his fingers. The material showed no evidence of being over-stretched, meaning someone had taken the liberty of removing it from the crates prior to the explosion. Gripping the fabric tight, he stretched out into the Force —

—and felt ... nothing. The answers he sought were not in here. He immediately dropped the webbing and turned for the exit.

Reaching the cockpit, he keyed the door release and stared ... and hooked his thumbs to his belt as he stood and glared at the carnage. Bodies lay motionless everywhere. A pilot slumped over the controls ... another by the central holo-map projector ... what appeared to be a freight-hand flat on his back right in front of his own boot. Perhaps he would have no need for the medic's assistance after all. All of these men — were dead.

Stepping over the deceased freight-handler, he strode to the command console and pushed the lifeless pilot back in his seat. The man's head flopped unnaturally to his shoulder, congealed blood marking a large gash on his brow. Unmoved, Vader shoved him aside and reached for the controls. He tapped at the keys. The navi-computer flashed red, displaying error code after error code. It cycled through different alerts; highlighting and zooming in on each relevant component on the freighter's schematic diagram.

He crossed his arms, frowning. Hull integrity breaches. Air-lock failures. Main cabin pressure warnings. Hyperdrive malfunction. Life-support system shutdown. All seemed plausible going by the ship's dilapidated state. He went to bring up the travel log when a final alert caused him to pause. Launch Failure: Release Mechanism Malfunction: Pod Bay One.

Vader stared.

Then smiled, darkly.

The escape pod! So... there was a survivor.

Reaching into his utility belt, he pulled out a small data-disc and inserted it into the ship's main terminal. Artoo would be able to decipher the navigation logs later; when they were fully downloaded. As for now, he had an escape pod to attend to. With a dramatic flourish of his cloak, he turned on his heel and left the cockpit.

The pod access hatch was jammed. Vader again keyed at the control panel. It beeped in acceptance, and still nothing. He gritted his teeth. His limited patience starting to wear thin. Taking a step back, he pulled the lightsaber from his belt— and with a snap-hiss the scarlet blade ignited. He drove the tip forward, using his bodyweight to plunge it deep into the door's inner seam. Twisting the hilt in both hands, he slowly traced the hatch seal all the way around until the alloy finally started to give. Then, using the Force, he wrenched the door free and launched it down the corridor.

He turned back to the escape pod.

There was his survivor. Huddled on the floor and cowering in the foetal position. Vader folded his arms, respirator hissing. His eyes meticulously roved over the seemingly horrified officer. Going by the bars on his uniform, he was the freighter's supposed captain. However, judging by his quivering, and the dead crew he'd abandoned in the cockpit; Vader surmised he was nothing more than a coward. A feeble excuse for an Imperial officer, most likely handed his position of authority off the back of a substantial credit down-payment made by some well-to-do core world family. The very thought sickened him.

"It would seem, your ship has seen better days, Captain," Vader growled.

"No — no," the man gasped, vehemently shaking his head and trying to scramble back. "Please... Lord Vader, I ... I..."

Vader stood rigid in the doorway. He drank in the captain's fear and allowed it to wash over him. The officer seemed to be getting more and more panicked by the minute and he wondered if he might perish from heart failure. Then, in a disturbing turn of events, the incompetent coward suddenly relieved himself and passed out. Actually passed out in a stinking hot puddle of his own filth!

Inwardly, Vader shook his head in disgust.

"Pathetic," he snarled then turned and charged back to the cockpit.

The two troopers and medic were still stationed by the ramp obediently awaiting further orders when he reached them. He thumped to a stop and waved up at the ship. "Go. See to the survivor in the escape pod. Then, inform me the instant he wakes up. He has a great deal of explaining to do."

"Yes, my lord," the medic answered, picking up his bag and heading straight for the ramp.

He turned his mask to the troopers. "As for you two, I want a thorough scan done of this ship. Leave nothing out. When complete, you will personally deliver it to my quarters."

The troopers nodded and picked up the box-scanner. "Right away, sir," they chorused before moving off.

Vader whirled on his heel and left for his chamber. Now that the freighter was secured, they were back on their course for Coruscant, and he still needed to rest before re-joining his master. Force only knew what he had in-store for him.

DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY

This was going to be interesting. With their Sith protector taking off to convene with his master, his family was now accessible for investigation. Hiding in shadow, Darth Malgus lingered by the glass doors, watching on curiously as the Jedi slumbered in the recliner.

Vader had insisted that his former master was incorruptible, stuck in his moral high ground and firmly wedged in the Light. But Malgus was unconvinced. No being was infallible, not even the most noble a Jedi. And especially not one who was willing to forego his own values in favour of standing alongside a Sith Lord, former padawan or not. Of course he could be turned. Everyone had their limit. He just needed to identify that limit ... and press it.

Kenobi groaned. He yanked on his Jedi robe and tugged it to his chin. Even in his sleep the man seemed subconsciously aware of his presence. Malgus waited a moment for him to settle, then stepped closer. "What are you thinking about?" he whispered, staring at his face, watching as his expression morphed into one of pain and discomfort.

"Such torment... such heartache..." A tear slipped down the Jedi's cheek and he jerked and rolled over. "Let me see," he whispered again, holding his hand out and reaching through the Force. "Show me... what haunts you."

The vision slowly became visible.

Kenobi was standing on a black hillside above a rolling torrent of lava. Below him, a dismembered man lay prone, one robotic hand outstretched and clawing at the ground.

"You were my brother Anakin!" Kenobi cried, staring down at the man he assumed was Vader pre-suit. "I loved you."

The pain was billowing from him in waves. A knotted mix of anger, disappointment, heartache and soul-crushing grief that seeped into the Force. In a blink, the vision shifted, and instead of standing on the hillside, Kenobi was now kneeling by the river bank, cradling the newly defeated Vader in his lap. Tears streamed down his face, his hands trembling as he held onto his fallen padawan in desperation. "I failed you, Anakin. I'm so sorry. I should have paid more attention. I should have seen what was happening. I ... I should have tried harder."

The vision glitched again. Only this time, instead of him cradling a dismembered man, he was now holding a small boy. One not more than ten years old, with short blonde hair and big, terrified blue eyes. Kenobi howled in agony and pulled the young boy to his chest. He rocked back and forth on the ashen glass sand, sobbing inconsolably as the boy died in his arms.

Malgus pulled from his dream, sensing the Jedi stirring and shrank back into the shadow. The auburn bearded Jedi shuddered and lurched upright, stared straight at him, his grey eyes glassy.

"Anakin?" Kenobi asked into the emptiness rubbing at his arms. "Is that you?"

The dark side swarmed around him. Stalked him like a predator, hovering around his defences and testing for weakness. And the cracks were showing. Malgus slipped further into the shadow, deep in thought. If he could see and sense the Jedi's despair then, surely, with their still existent master-padawan Force bond, Vader could too. If so, this now posed two questions. First: If Vader had indeed sensed it, yet remained insistent on him not being able to be turned; did that mean he was effectively trying to shield him? Was he actually trying to prevent his former master from falling? Second: That being the case; what did Vader ultimately have to gain by doing so? What was his motivation? Was it out of fear of Kenobi? Or ... for... Kenobi?

Or was it to do with something else entirely?

The Jedi's grey eyes found him again, his brows furrowing into a deep ravine across his forehead. For a second Malgus wondered if he'd seen him, somehow managing to identify his ethereal form from within the shadow. He stared back, waiting. Then, after several intense minutes, the Jedi spoke.

"I may not be able to see you," Kenobi growled, clenching his robe in his fists and leaning forward. "But know this... I know you are there. I sensed your dark presence the day we arrived on this Force-forsaken planet." He threw his robe aside, rose to his feet, took two steps forward and pulled his Jedi lightsaber from his belt. With a sudden snap-hiss, the humming blue blade burst into life. He twirled it twice and dropped into stance. "And if you think for one moment, that I am going to allow you to take him or any other member of this family..." He lowered his stance, leaning forward threateningly and grasping his thrumming weapon at his waist. "You are sorely mistaken!"

Malgus chuckled darkly and stepped from the shadow, revealing himself. He folded his arms and stared the angered Jedi down. "And to think, Vader said you could never be turned," he said, taking another step closer.

The auburn-haired Jedi didn't falter. He stood his ground, his impassioned grey eyes growing fierce as he bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Foolish Jedi! Just look at yourself. You are already half-way there." Malgus laughed victoriously and threw his arms wide. "Kaas City has staked her claim on you, Kenobi. And soon, like so many before you ... you shall fall."

Kenobi moved to strike. "Oh, I don't think so."

Malgus laughed again and started to drift into the Force. As his form began to dematerialise, he whirled for Vader's bedroom and quickly passed through the wall to the other side. Using the Force, he secured the entrance to the bedroom. Kenobi yelled from outside, rattling and banging at the door as he tried in vain to open it.

Ignoring the Jedi's protest, he turned and gazed at the room. Vader's wife was still fast asleep in their bed, apparently unaware of the commotion surrounding her. He moved closer.

Although, she wasn't to his taste, he could see why Vader liked her. Her long chestnut curls, her satin ivory skin, the delicate cherry pout of her lips. Her subtle beauty was remarkable. Walking around the foot of the bed, he moved to the bedside table and stood alongside her pillow.

"Now, my dear..." he whispered holding his gloved hand out just above her forehead. "Let's see where you go at night."

By the time her dream had become visible, the woman's heart-rate had already started to climb. And now, seeing what she was seeing; it was understandable. Vader was mid-duel with some Jedi, his red blade screaming as he pummelled the other robed Force-user with all of his might. But the cerulean weapon kept coming, matching his every thrust, parrying each aggressive strike. They were evenly matched, with Vader only gaining the upper hand when he poured all of his own bodyweight into the contest.

Their fighting styles were strikingly similar, with both Vader and his opponent using adapted variations of Form V. The Jedi was more agile, lighter on his feet, moving around the dark lord's cumbersome defences with ease. But for what Vader lacked in agility he made up for with brute strength, with his every double-handed attack and parry ruthlessly sapping away at the Jedi's energy.

Malgus tried to see the robed-figure's face as he quickly twirled and moved to the Sith's back, but the drawn down hood was concealing it perfectly. Vader sidestepped and spun, his red lightsaber sailing through the air until it violently cracked with the blue.

"Ani please!" Vader's wife yelled out, watching from the sidelines. "This is madness!"

Neither combatant stopped. They continued to fight, slashing and blocking each other as they circled around the sparring chamber. A well-placed kick to the chest sent Vader stumbling and he tripped and fell to the floor. The Jedi then sprang into action, leaping at the downed Sith with his blue lightsaber angled for the kill. He was abruptly suspended mid-flight; his long legs kicking as his hood slipped away and revealed his face.

Malgus shook his head in disbelief. The Jedi was Skywalker? He was actually fighting himself?

Vader rose to his feet, gloved fingers clawed into pincers. "We cannot coexist, Padmè," he said, turning to face her. "You must choose."

Padmè looked between the two men; to the Jedi hanging in the air, then to the armoured Sith. She started toward him. "And what if I don't?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the dark lord. "What if I refuse to choose?"

"Then, the Force will decide for you," Vader growled, shifting his mask back to the Jedi.

"And what if I choose him?" Padmè asked, as she stopped at his side and pointed to Skywalker. "What will you do?"

Vader stared at her and bowed his head. "Then, I will lay down my lightsaber and submit to defeat."

She placed a finger at the base of his mouth grill and gently lifted his head up. "You would willingly surrender?"

His mechanical breathing echoed between them.

"If that, is what you wish," he murmured.

Which in itself sounded much like a surrender.

Skywalker — still choking — groaned. Vader snapped his mask around to his direction and released him, watching stiffly as his body thudded to the floor. He went to take a step forward and froze when his wife grabbed hold of his arm.

Vader growled. "He cannot protect you Padmè. Just as he could not protect you back then."

"Don't listen to him, Padmè!" Skywalker yelled, rising to his feet. "He doesn't want to protect you or our children. He only wants to use you. He's a Sith Lord! Vader doesn't love you; he wouldn't even know what love is!" He recalled his lightsaber and charged.

"You insolent fool!" Vader snarled pulling away from his wife and preparing to fight. "You know nothing!"

As they closed the distance, the Dark Lord drew back his scarlet blade ready to strike. The Jedi jumped and tried to somersault over the Sith's head. Effortlessly, Vader reached up and grabbed hold of his ankle ... and pulled. He yanked Skywalker from the air and rag-dolled him back down to the floor.

"Stay down!" Vader hissed stomping over him, pointing the sizzling hot tip of his red lightsaber to the Jedi's throat. "Or I will destroy you." He swung his mask to his wife. "Make your decision, Padmè. Sith or Jedi. Stand with me and fight for control of the Empire, or run away with him and hide forever. The choice is yours. I await your command."

Padmè moved alongside him and cradled her heavily swollen belly with both hands, intermittently looking between the two of them. The air was tense, filled with the ominous rasp of Vader's breathing and the steady thrum of his weapon. Skywalker's pleading eyes stared up at her from beneath the Sith's blade. She sighed and swayed on her feet.

Something dark suddenly passed through the Force. Like a quiet whisper or chant, niggling ... hinting ... as if trying to guide her decision. Malgus watched as the woman's appearance suddenly changed. Her casual attire morphed into a long flowing black gown, her dark hair cascading down her newly exposed shoulders and framing the corseted bustier of her dress. With her two black gloved hands firmly planted to her stomach, she turned her made-up face to stare into the lenses of her husband's mask.

"The time of the Jedi has passed," Padmè said to him in a surprisingly commanding tone. She turned to glare at the still submissive Jedi knelt before them and frowned. "The galaxy has changed, Anakin. The Republic we knew and fought for — is dead. It is only fair, that the Jedi who swore and failed to protect it, now share in its fate."

"Don't do this Padmè!" Skywalker called, reaching out to her.

She shook her head and folded her arms, even as another unexpected ripple tickled through the Force. Straightening her posture, she looked to the Sith Lord patiently waiting at her side. "You have my decision. Now do it."

Vader slowly nodded. "As you wish." He lifted his blade... and swung—

Suddenly torn from the dream, Malgus shrunk back into the shadows, just in time to see Vader's wife jerk upright and scream.

She was in full fight or flight mode, her big brown eyes staring dead ahead into the darkness, her hands firmly locked around the knotted folds of her blanket. Chest heaving, she gazed around the room in a daze, occasionally lifting her hand to wipe away tears.

The woman was clearly traumatized by her dream. But what confused him, was the sudden shift in her demeanour. And how it seemed to have coincided perfectly with the surge he'd felt in the Force. She wasn't Force sensitive, that much was obvious. But still, it had affected her somehow.

After a few minutes, Padmè finally laid her head back down on the pillow and sobbed. He waited for her to close her eyes then leaned forward. Waving his hand in the air above her, he whispered through the Force: "Sleep now, Lady Vader. Sleep."

She instantly responded, relaxing into position and slowly drifting off.

Having seen enough for one night, he went to walk around the foot of the bed when the Force prodded him again. Not in a dream, but in reality. He stopped and stared back at her, watching as the blanket rose and fell with each weary breath. Then she rolled over, shifting to lay flat on her back.

The Force beckoned him closer. He moved alongside her, closed his eyes and stretched out to meet it. He felt it then. A tiny ball of churning energy. Volatile and angry. Twisting and surging from within the woman's body.

"Ah... there you are. That's why he wants you. It all makes sense now," Malgus mused, opening his eyes and leaning down over the bed. He waved his hand over her stomach and tried to soothe it.

"Hush, little one. Calm yourself. You are scaring your mother." The Force settled and he straightened back up ... and was greeted by two pairs of eyes intently staring at him from across the room in a crib.

Malgus chuckled. "My, my... your daddy has been busy, hasn't he?" He raised a finger to his respirator and locked stares with the two children. "Shh," he said, then with a flourish of his ethereal cloak, disappeared into the shadows.