Title: Son of my Right Hand
Author: Jedipati
Rating: G
Category: AU, between the trilogies.
Disclaimer: Luke, the Emperor, and Vader do not belong to me, I am borrowing them for a short story and I make no money from it. I am just having fun.
Feedback: Send to Jedipati@aol.com. I will not read flames, so constructive criticism only.
Summary: Just a short bit of reflection by the Emperor when he learns that Vader has an infant son.
Son of my Right Hand ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I just stood there, staring at the tiny bundle that could change the future of the galaxy. I knew that if this boy were to grow up away from his father, he could bring light back to the galaxy.
I have been told the boy's name, yet I wonder. Benjamin would be a better name, perhaps. "Son of my right hand." I said softly, for that is was Benjamin means. And that is who this boy is. He is the son of my right hand, the son of my apprentice.
But no, this boy's name has two meanings. One, no doubt the meaning intended by the mother, light. The other, perhaps would be more fitting. Wolf. An ancient predator of Alderaan. I wonder if she knew of the second meaning.
This boy is Luke. Should we keep his name Skywalker, or change it? His father stands nearby, waiting for my reaction. Yes, I would not allow this boy to grow up away from his father. He would be my servant, like his father.
Yet, I can't get those words out of my head. Where have I heard them before? *Son of my right hand. * This boy would one day be my right hand, or his father's.
*Son of my right hand. * The words haunt me even as I turn to my apprentice. "Train him, and raise him as a Sith, Lord Vader."
"Yes, my master."
The boy woke up, his blue eyes opening. Luke Skywalker was so young yet, not old enough to talk. Vader and I had both felt it when he was born, six months ago. His father had finally found him, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kenobi had been killed, but Lord Vader had spared the boy. I still do not know if that was a wise thing. Yet, as the boy looked around with wide eyes, I begin to see possibilities. Possible futures unfolded. The boy would become my servant, I was certain. Skywalker kicked his feet, and smiled up at Lord Vader and I.
I knew the boy would not be so innocent for long. *Son of my right hand. * Why do I keep thinking of that phrase?
"I will speak with you later, Lord Vader."
My servant bows, and leaves with his son. How do I explain my conflicting feelings? The boy is strong, too strong to be allowed to live away from his father. Yet, he may be a danger to me. *Son of my right hand. * Skywalker will not be a danger, he will be his father's son, truly, the son of my right hand.
The End
Author: Jedipati
Rating: G
Category: AU, between the trilogies.
Disclaimer: Luke, the Emperor, and Vader do not belong to me, I am borrowing them for a short story and I make no money from it. I am just having fun.
Feedback: Send to Jedipati@aol.com. I will not read flames, so constructive criticism only.
Summary: Just a short bit of reflection by the Emperor when he learns that Vader has an infant son.
Son of my Right Hand ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I just stood there, staring at the tiny bundle that could change the future of the galaxy. I knew that if this boy were to grow up away from his father, he could bring light back to the galaxy.
I have been told the boy's name, yet I wonder. Benjamin would be a better name, perhaps. "Son of my right hand." I said softly, for that is was Benjamin means. And that is who this boy is. He is the son of my right hand, the son of my apprentice.
But no, this boy's name has two meanings. One, no doubt the meaning intended by the mother, light. The other, perhaps would be more fitting. Wolf. An ancient predator of Alderaan. I wonder if she knew of the second meaning.
This boy is Luke. Should we keep his name Skywalker, or change it? His father stands nearby, waiting for my reaction. Yes, I would not allow this boy to grow up away from his father. He would be my servant, like his father.
Yet, I can't get those words out of my head. Where have I heard them before? *Son of my right hand. * This boy would one day be my right hand, or his father's.
*Son of my right hand. * The words haunt me even as I turn to my apprentice. "Train him, and raise him as a Sith, Lord Vader."
"Yes, my master."
The boy woke up, his blue eyes opening. Luke Skywalker was so young yet, not old enough to talk. Vader and I had both felt it when he was born, six months ago. His father had finally found him, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kenobi had been killed, but Lord Vader had spared the boy. I still do not know if that was a wise thing. Yet, as the boy looked around with wide eyes, I begin to see possibilities. Possible futures unfolded. The boy would become my servant, I was certain. Skywalker kicked his feet, and smiled up at Lord Vader and I.
I knew the boy would not be so innocent for long. *Son of my right hand. * Why do I keep thinking of that phrase?
"I will speak with you later, Lord Vader."
My servant bows, and leaves with his son. How do I explain my conflicting feelings? The boy is strong, too strong to be allowed to live away from his father. Yet, he may be a danger to me. *Son of my right hand. * Skywalker will not be a danger, he will be his father's son, truly, the son of my right hand.
The End
