It was a beautiful place. A planet full of flowers and life. A planet filled with love and hope. Once upon a time this cold and deadly place was a paradise. But not anymore. Cleaned from its natural inhabitants the planet of Yinchorr, this glorious "Flower of Darkness" became the grave of billions. Only to serve as a school. A school for the best of the best in the galaxy.
Those children were lost souls. They thought themselves heroes, idealistic warriors who came to this rock of darkness to become great warriors. What did they know about being a warrior? Nothing. They knew nothing but the lies they were taught at Imperial Academy. A glorious future of servitude to the Emperor was waiting for them. Glory and honor. If they survived the training.
Today the advanced class was getting a new member. The new one was someone special they were told. He raced through the ranks of training classes like others did with their speeder bikes in the desert. He was fast and he was good. It took him only three months to get from a beginner to the elite. Astonishing news. Right, and a bit disturbing. What was the secret of this mysterious new student everyone only knew as Coren? Why did he always hide his face? How was it possible that he fought that perfect after only three months of training?
Kir Kanos and Burr Danid were two of the best in the advanced class. Only Carnor Jax got near their abilities. But today the new one, Coren took away their title of the Best of the Best. Coren fought with a lightness you find most of the time only in dancers. And it seemed he enjoyed it greatly.
The Emperor and his second-hand man Darth Vader were supposed to come. The greatest honor to the students. Maybe today was their day of judgement. Maybe today they would become real members of the Guard. Maybe today was the last day of their old life.
The Emperor wanted a performance. He wanted to see how the students would fare against an opponent like Lord Vader. Yesterday it would have been Burr Danid's duty to fight against the Dark Lord in the arena. Today it was the new one. They all knew it was his death sentence. Nobody could defeat Darth Vader. Nobody. Or so they thought...
Vader and Coren stood face to face in the arena. There was no motion. No moving, no fighting. Nothing. For the onlookers it seemed as if time stood still. Than sound. Huttese words out of the mouth of Coren. He talked to Vader. He didn't fight him. He just stood there, his weapon in his hand and talked.
Vader could call himself lucky. The Emperor didn't speak Huttese. Yes, he was lucky to live.
"It took you long enough to come here, Father." Coren's words were calm. A faint Tattoine accent in his syllabies. He was totally confident he could win this performance for his Master's master. He had to else he would never become a Guard.
"I had my reasons, C-OR1." A bit angry, but that was understandable. The Emperor was not amused about his masterpiece. First he wanted a perfect warrior for his new Crimson Guard, than he ordered his creation destroyed. Not much fun for the Dark Lord. He had to be the perfect servant for his master or said master would come to know he was deceived. Openly.
"Well, if it is so. We should begin, you know. He it getting suspicious." And the fight began.
It was fast. It was deadly. It was beauty all over again. It was like a choreographed play, a ballet of death. But neither the Dark Lord nor the student were winning. They were at a stalemate. For over an hour they fought and the end was far away. Than a move. Vader was down. A blade at his neck. Although he was wearing a mask you knew Coren was grinning. He bested the Best... and lost. Never stop to gloat. That is the first lesson you learn at Yinchorr. The only lesson Coren was not able to learn. It was his end. Surprised over the Dark Lord move he stepped back and fell off the platform. Darth Vader left the arena victorious again.
The students gaped openly. Never lasted a performance for the Emperor that long. Barely two hour. And if it were not for Coren's grave mistake the fight would probably still go on. But Coren lost. He was now only one of the many smashed bodies beneath the arena. He dead. A great loss for the warriors... and an example. An example to never underestimate you opponent. Or overestimate your own abilities. It was a lesson no student of Yinchorr would ever forget.
The Emperor said something about the lines "you have to work harder" and "if that was the best you can give, you have a long way before you". The students were silent. Not because they honoured their Emperor but because they mourned their comrade. He was maybe one of the freshlings but he was one of them. That was enough to feel a great loss. That was enough to fear the Emperor even more.
The old man they all called Master left the planet. The whole academy was happy to see him go and never come back. At least not for some months. The Dark Lord, Darth Vader the murderer of their newest - and probably greatest student - remained on Yinchorr. He just stood at the edge of the arena and waited. He waited for a long time. And the advanced class waited with him. They didn't trust him. They would die happily to serve him, but they didn't trust him. Nobody trusted Darth Vader. That is no human.
It took him some time to get back up. Climbing over three miles of knife sharp rock was not something he was constructed to do. But he did it anyway. It was his duty. His holy duty towards the Empire and his Master. The old man in the black robes didn't count. His Father would be proud if him. If he managed to get out of this hole and back to him, he would be very proud. Fathers always were proud of their sons. Always. His helmet was crushed. He had to leave it down there. He felt a bit sad about it. He really liked this armor. It suited his purposes much better than the red of the Guard. Not that he didn't like red. He just didn't feel like wearing the polished blood red costume the rest of his life.
Life?... What a silly thought. How can a machine be alive? He was nothing more than a tool his Master, his Father, made to fulfil the Emperors wishes. Nothing more. Just a really advanced piece of trash. But the thought wouldn't go away. While he climbed meter after painful meter up this infuriating stonewall, there was not much to do but thinking. Thinking about his future life. Thinking about his destiny. Thinking about his Father's motivations.
Yes, that was as good a point to contemplate a droid's suicidal tendencies than any other. Why did his Father what he did? What made him create a droid who would be a better human than the humans themselves? What made him give life to an artificial child? And why did he himself feel that way? Why was it right to think of Darth Vader not only as his creator and Master, but as his creator and beloved Father? Why? Why do I feel like a real human? There was no answer. Probably never will be, but he had to look for it. He had to search for himself. Vader wouldn't give him what he needed.
He remembered the day he got skin. Real, human skin and muscles and intestines. C-OR1 - my name is Coren - believed it the happiest day in his till that moment short life. His Father's master was not pleased with the gift of C-OR1. He was outright furious that Vader dared to come in his sight with such an abomination. Was it not the Emperor's direct order to bring him a perfect warrior for his new troop of bodyguards? Was it not? The order of C-OR1's destruction was not a surprise. The old man always destroyed what he feared. And fear he did Lord Vader's newest toy. Too perfect the droid was. Too powerful. Too much like his maker.
The destruction never came. Instead of ending in a melting pit the droid was brought to a laboratory. Strange things happened in these white halls. Strange and disturbing for the droid's mind. His Father talked to the physicians for a long time. He talked about things C-OR1 couldn't understand at this point of time. He talked about giving live to an artificial body.
Of course, some genetic material would be needed to accomplish Lord Vader's wishes. His Father only took a knife and cut himself. He risked his own life to donate material for the doctors. He could have died if he suit hadn't sealed the damaged area off. Comprehension dawned on the droid. They wanted to clone his Father to create a warrior the Emperor approved of. Never did C-OR1 think about the possibility...
He awoke with a start. Pain was everywhere. All he felt was fire. It was beautiful. A droid's greatest dream fulfilled. He was able to feel. Feel your world like a mortal being. He looked down at his new living body. Perfection. Or not?...
"Why is hair white? And why does he have green eyes?" His master's voice was loud in his new ears. It bordered on pain. Bad pain, not the beauty he felt on awaking.
"We thought it best to create some differences between the original and this one, My Lord." The doctor was frightened. He was right. Mistakes should not be allowed. Never.
With his new eyes he saw his Father watching his every move. "The new design will do. Make sure the nerve endings have the same connections as the original's. We don't want a warrior who can't control his powers, don't we?" For a moment it seemed as if his Father smiled behind his mask. Only for a short moment.
He arrived to top one hour after sundown. He was in pain. His fingers were bleeding and his head hurt. He probably had a concussion. His right eye was swollen shut. He lost a great amount of blood. Nothing he could die of. His brain and bones were constructed of a material not easy to destroy. But it hurt nonetheless.
Vader was waiting for him. His Father did probably never move from this position at all. Coren's heart jumped with joy.
"Truly a Vader" With his cape swirling in the cold night wind of Yinchorr Darth Vader vanished into the darkness. Behind his mask he allowed himself to smile.