Chapter 3
"Amnesia?" Leia repeated, brow furrowed. "How can you be sure he's not faking it?"
"I took the liberty of doing a cranial scan after the sedatives knocked him out," Forenze replied. She gestured to the holo of the scan before them. "The blow to his head would have killed him had he not be wearing a helmet. As it was, it caused severe damage to the memory center of his brain -- right here." She pointed to the corresponding area. "Knocks to the head cause hemorrhaging, which kills off parts of the brain tissue. Other parts of the brain can partially compensate for what has been lost, but it's impossible to regenerate new neural cells."
"So you're saying there's no possibility of him regaining his memory," said Mothma, her expression serene as ever.
"Anything's possible, my lady," Forenze answered. "A technician can retrieve data from a damaged computer if he knows how. Given time, his brain may eventually recover some of his memory. But the possibility of him regaining all of it in the near future is rather slim."
"And his condition now?" asked Leia.
"Up and walking. He's very curious about his past and even borrowed a computer to look some information up."
"Thank you, Dr. Forenze," Mothma said in conclusion. "You're dismissed."
The Fosh pulled the disk out of the holoprojector and walked back into the med center, the door hissing shut behind her.
As soon as she was gone, Leia turned to face Mothma. "Now what are we going to do with him? He's useless as an informant."
She remained expressionless. "I'm not sure."
"We could hold him for ransom," Han suggested. "The Emperor might pay pretty well to get his stooge back."
"Aside from the fact that the Alliance does not stoop to hostage-taking for profit," Mothma said sternly, glaring at the Corellian, "I highly doubt the Empire wants him now that he doesn't even know the Empire exists."
"Well, we don't want him either," Han retorted.
"There's one option left," Leia said. "Put him on trial."
Mothma shook her head. "I don't believe we even have that option."
"What do you mean?"
"His memory is gone. He has no recollection of his crimes. In his mind, he is innocent. Is it truly fair to charge him with crimes he doesn't even know happened?"
"That doesn't change the fact that he committed them," Leia retorted.
"If we don't try him, what are we going to do with him?" added Han. "He can't stay in the base forever."
Mothma began to look thoughtful.
"Oh no," Leia breathed, shaking her head. "We can't possibly..."
"Consider a moment," Mothma encouraged. "Vader is among us. He has no memory. He doesn't remember that he served the Empire for so many years. He doesn't remember why he fought against the Alliance. It's as if he's been reborn, given a fresh start. We can take advantage of this to bring him to our side."
Han stared at her incredulously. "You want to RECRUIT him?!"
"Why not?" she replied. "We've let other Imperials join. Why not Vader?"
"What if he regains his memory?" demanded Leia. "Do we really want to risk him remembering who he is in the middle of a delicate mission and betraying or killing us all?"
"That can be averted," Mothma replied. "We build our case carefully, presenting him with the truth of the Empire's dealings. I'm sure there is much more going on in the Empire than even Vader knows -- or knew. If he does recover from his amnesia, we may have disillusioned him to the point that he will choose to remain a Rebel."
"I can't believe you're doing this!" Leia exclaimed in disbelief. "We can't recruit a mass murderer! Do you know how many people in this base have been hurt by that... monster?!"
"Princess," Mothma said gently, "I know you suffered much at his hand. But can you not accept that we are no longer dealing with the Emperor's right-hand man, but with a total stranger?"
She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she turned and stormed away.
Reaching the refuge of her private quarters, she knelt beside the bed and broke down into tears for the first time in days. Stars, she had tried to remain strong through it all -- her capture by the troops of the Devastator, her torture at the hands of Vader, the sanity-ripping mind probes, the destruction of her beloved homeworld, her chaotic rescue, the Battle of Yavin, the revelation that Vader had been captured. But to know that he was to be accepted into the Rebellion's ranks without so much as a trial... she couldn't hold back any longer.
She hated him. By the galaxy, she hated that depraved beast. Never mind that his mind was gone; that didn't make him innocent of his crimes. And Forenze had even said that he may regain his memory, making him a ticking time bomb. Why in the galaxy would Mothma want to risk that?
Someone tapped on her door.
"Come in," she called, hastily wiping her eyes.
Luke poked his head in timidly. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Barely."
He smiled apologetically and knelt beside her, putting a comforting hand around her shoulders. "Han told me what Mothma decided and that you had 'gone off in a huff,' as he eloquently put it."
"Do you blame me?"
"Not in the least. I couldn't believe the news myself." He shook his head. "I just don't see why she would want him as a Rebel, amnesiac or not. So many people have suffered so much at his hands, he's bound to be shot inside an hour."
"If I had a blaster, I'd take care of that right now."
"No, Leia. For one thing, Mothma's posted guards at the med center doors. And for another thing, if either of us tries to kill him, we're no better than him. We'd be as much of murderers as he is."
"I hate it when you're right," she murmured, laying her head against his shoulder. Why did she feel so safe around Luke? It wasn't as if she was sexually attracted to him. It was more of a best-friend feeling, as if she could confide in him. Maybe it was because they had gone through so much together these past few days.
"You're not the only one hurt by him," Luke went on.
"Don't lecture me."
"I'm not. I'm just saying that he's hurt me too."
She sat up and looked him in the eye. "How... Kenobi! I'm so sorry. I forgot that he'd killed your Jedi Master..."
"Before that," Luke murmured, voice growing rough. "My father was once a Jedi Knight. He and Vader trained under Kenobi, and Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force. He... betrayed... and murdered my father."
She rested a hand on his. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a long time ago." He became thoughtful. "I wish I could remember what he looked like. I have no memory of him."
"I'm sure he looked a lot like you. Blue hair, blond eyes... handsome," she added teasingly.
He blushed. "Oh, stop it!"
She pushed him good-naturedly. "You always know how to make me feel better, Luke."
"Anything for a Princess of Alderaan." He stood. "Come on, let's get something to eat. Then I'm going in for more flight sims, if you want to watch me."
"You've been in the simulator all day. Are you glued to the chair or what?"
He laughed. "Commander Ghede says I need to keep myself up to par if I want to stay his second. Stang, he's strict!"
"But he's the best we've got," Leia replied. "And with more and more pilots being recruited from all corners of the galaxy, we need a firm hand over the squadron."
"I suppose you're right."
As they walked out of her quarters together, a distasteful expression crossed his face.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I just realized -- what if they make Vader a pilot? I mean, I saw him flying during the Death Star battle, and even a memory wipe can't clear out that much skill! If he's stuck in our squadron..."
"You'll deal with him," Leia replied. "I'm sure of it. We may not like it, but we're stuck with him for now."
***
...the desert sands were really flying in his face now, as Sebulba roared past him with a malicious cackle. Oh, that twisted creature was so going to pay for this! He leaned effortlessly into the curve, feeling the engines rumble as they compensated for the thrust of energy he poured into them...
Vader returned to reality with a shiver. He had found a place inside himself where, if he withdrew there for a time, he could meditate on his past and draw out a memory. The images he found were often unclear and never in chronological order, but they provided pieces of his life that he hoped he could piece together.
"No, no, no!" shrieked Forenze, lecturing a medical droid who was preparing a bacta tank for an incoming patient. "What idiot programmed your virus-corrupted memory banks? Burn victims get a 1:4 mix of bacta, while widespread lacerations get 1:6! We can't waste this stuff by soaking everyone who so much as scrapes their knees in a full-strength solution!"
"Dr. Forenze?" Vader interrupted.
"What?" she asked, somewhat less irritated. Vader suspected she was actually enjoying his questions, which provided a break in the constant chaos of the med center.
"I remember a race... with repulsor-vehicles of some sort... each was towed by two massive engines connected by a beam of energy. What sort of sport is that?"
"Oh, that's podracing," she replied. "Exhilarating to see but highly illegal, though I've seen a few in my lifetime. Why, you remember watching one?"
"No. I remember participating in one."
She shook her head. "That memory must be slightly flawed. Humans just don't have the reflexes to fly a podracer. Sorry."
He didn't believe her. The memory clearly placed him in the driver's seat. Perhaps he had a specially modified racer, or he had some sort of extra talent that allowed him to operate one.
He had regained some of his strength over the past twenty-four hours, and Forenze permitted him to walk around a bit from time to time. Right now he was seated close to the med center's only window, by the computer terminal, where he was perusing the Alliance's information files. After some tinkering he had been able to call up Luke Skywalker's stats, and these he read now.
LUKE SKYWALKER
AGE: 18
HOMEWORLD: Tatooine
SPECIES: Human
RELATIONS: Father -- Anakin Skywalker (deceased); Mother -- Unknown (presumed deceased); Spouse -- None
RANK: Second Commander of Alliance Fighter Squadron; Jedi Knight in training
HISTORY: Raised by aunt and uncle on family moisture farm until their deaths. Tutored briefly by Jedi General Obi-wan "Ben" Kenobi (now deceased). Involved in rescue of Princess Leia Organa from Death Star and delivery of Death Star plans to Alliance. Joined Alliance as pilot, flew with Red Squadron in Battle of Yavin. Responsible for destruction of Death Star; promoted to Second Commander of as-yet-unnamed fighter squadron for this action.
Vader shook his head. Nothing in here indicated he had known the boy previously. If anything, it only raised more questions. Who was Princess Leia? Who was Obi-wan Kenobi? Why did the name Anakin also seem familiar? What in the galaxy was the Death Star, and why did it need to be destroyed? Though with a name like the Death Star, it didn't take much imagination to see why it was so dangerous.
On a whim he entered another name into the computer, calling up a bio.
VLASK FORENZE
AGE: 38
HOMEWORLD: Corusant
SPECIES: Fosh
RELATIONS: Father -- Odrian Vergere (deceased); Mother -- Siyax Vergere (deceased); Spouse -- Nambaa Forenze (deceased)
RANK: Medical Officer
HISTORY: Born and raised on Corusant; parents worked as partners in law firm. Rumored to have Jedi uncle, presumed deceased. Attended medical school and worked as doctor in Corusant's Temple District until instatement of Empire. Joined in alien uprising against Empire that resulted in deaths of parents and husband. Fled planet and joined Alliance on Dantooine.
He felt incredibly sorry for Forenze, who had lost so much to the Empire. This organization had to be terribly cruel. Who in their right mind would serve such a twisted, sadistic regime?
/I wonder/ he thought, and tried one more name. A third bio appeared, complete with an image.
/Good stars, is that me?/ He placed a hand against his mask, examining it thoroughly by touch. As far as he could tell, it matched the one worn by the man staring back at him from the computer.
And a fearsome man he was -- broad shoulders, intimidating build and posture, a forever-snarling mask, battle armor, thick gauntlets, a cloak sweeping behind him to add to his impressive stature. Small wonder the few people who dared enter the med center were so nervous when they saw him. If he met this man on the street, he would give him a wide berth.
But it was the bio he was more interested in. It would provide a much-needed link to his past -- he hoped.
DARTH VADER
AGE: Unknown, estimated to be in early 40s
HOMEWORLD: Unknown
SPECIES: Human or humanoid
RELATIONS: Unknown
Not much here. Curses.
RANK: Sith Lord; Right-hand man of Emperor Palpatine
Stunned, he read that line again. And again, hoping it was an error. No. It couldn't be. He wasn't... he read on.
HISTORY: Little known about past; thought to have been a Jedi who left the Order. Came into power at time of Empire's rise. Responsible for destruction of Jedi Temple and genocide of entire Jedi Order. Commanded Imperial Fleet and ensured Emperor's orders were carried out. Notorious for killing lower officers who displeased him. Fought in aerial combat during Battle of Yavin and shot down; crashed on Yavin IV and captured by Alliance.
Hands trembling, he closed out of the bio. It couldn't be true! How could he be a mass murderer? The thought made him sick! He couldn't be an Imperial -- and the Emperor's right-hand man, to boot! Was he truly a Sith, a barbaric tyrant who killed his own men and countless others?
His vision blurred. It all made sense now. That was why he'd been strapped to the bed when he awoke. They had thought him dangerous. And everyone was scared witless of him because they thought he would lose his temper and slaughter all in his path at any moment.
Angrily he clenched his fists and covered his masked face. He was a murderer. Of all the cruel jokes fate could have played on him, this was by far the worst. If this was his past -- death, genocide, murder, tyranny -- he had no further desire to explore it.
But he couldn't shake the memories that came to him -- images that begged to be explained, faces that pleaded for recognition. Grudgingly he admitted that, while he may detest his past as an Imperial, he had to probe further into it. If nothing else, he had to find reasons for his actions. That way, he could ensure he never committed such crimes again.
He located a search program and typed in the name DARTH VADER. Over five hundred files were called up. It was time to start his research.
"Amnesia?" Leia repeated, brow furrowed. "How can you be sure he's not faking it?"
"I took the liberty of doing a cranial scan after the sedatives knocked him out," Forenze replied. She gestured to the holo of the scan before them. "The blow to his head would have killed him had he not be wearing a helmet. As it was, it caused severe damage to the memory center of his brain -- right here." She pointed to the corresponding area. "Knocks to the head cause hemorrhaging, which kills off parts of the brain tissue. Other parts of the brain can partially compensate for what has been lost, but it's impossible to regenerate new neural cells."
"So you're saying there's no possibility of him regaining his memory," said Mothma, her expression serene as ever.
"Anything's possible, my lady," Forenze answered. "A technician can retrieve data from a damaged computer if he knows how. Given time, his brain may eventually recover some of his memory. But the possibility of him regaining all of it in the near future is rather slim."
"And his condition now?" asked Leia.
"Up and walking. He's very curious about his past and even borrowed a computer to look some information up."
"Thank you, Dr. Forenze," Mothma said in conclusion. "You're dismissed."
The Fosh pulled the disk out of the holoprojector and walked back into the med center, the door hissing shut behind her.
As soon as she was gone, Leia turned to face Mothma. "Now what are we going to do with him? He's useless as an informant."
She remained expressionless. "I'm not sure."
"We could hold him for ransom," Han suggested. "The Emperor might pay pretty well to get his stooge back."
"Aside from the fact that the Alliance does not stoop to hostage-taking for profit," Mothma said sternly, glaring at the Corellian, "I highly doubt the Empire wants him now that he doesn't even know the Empire exists."
"Well, we don't want him either," Han retorted.
"There's one option left," Leia said. "Put him on trial."
Mothma shook her head. "I don't believe we even have that option."
"What do you mean?"
"His memory is gone. He has no recollection of his crimes. In his mind, he is innocent. Is it truly fair to charge him with crimes he doesn't even know happened?"
"That doesn't change the fact that he committed them," Leia retorted.
"If we don't try him, what are we going to do with him?" added Han. "He can't stay in the base forever."
Mothma began to look thoughtful.
"Oh no," Leia breathed, shaking her head. "We can't possibly..."
"Consider a moment," Mothma encouraged. "Vader is among us. He has no memory. He doesn't remember that he served the Empire for so many years. He doesn't remember why he fought against the Alliance. It's as if he's been reborn, given a fresh start. We can take advantage of this to bring him to our side."
Han stared at her incredulously. "You want to RECRUIT him?!"
"Why not?" she replied. "We've let other Imperials join. Why not Vader?"
"What if he regains his memory?" demanded Leia. "Do we really want to risk him remembering who he is in the middle of a delicate mission and betraying or killing us all?"
"That can be averted," Mothma replied. "We build our case carefully, presenting him with the truth of the Empire's dealings. I'm sure there is much more going on in the Empire than even Vader knows -- or knew. If he does recover from his amnesia, we may have disillusioned him to the point that he will choose to remain a Rebel."
"I can't believe you're doing this!" Leia exclaimed in disbelief. "We can't recruit a mass murderer! Do you know how many people in this base have been hurt by that... monster?!"
"Princess," Mothma said gently, "I know you suffered much at his hand. But can you not accept that we are no longer dealing with the Emperor's right-hand man, but with a total stranger?"
She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she turned and stormed away.
Reaching the refuge of her private quarters, she knelt beside the bed and broke down into tears for the first time in days. Stars, she had tried to remain strong through it all -- her capture by the troops of the Devastator, her torture at the hands of Vader, the sanity-ripping mind probes, the destruction of her beloved homeworld, her chaotic rescue, the Battle of Yavin, the revelation that Vader had been captured. But to know that he was to be accepted into the Rebellion's ranks without so much as a trial... she couldn't hold back any longer.
She hated him. By the galaxy, she hated that depraved beast. Never mind that his mind was gone; that didn't make him innocent of his crimes. And Forenze had even said that he may regain his memory, making him a ticking time bomb. Why in the galaxy would Mothma want to risk that?
Someone tapped on her door.
"Come in," she called, hastily wiping her eyes.
Luke poked his head in timidly. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Barely."
He smiled apologetically and knelt beside her, putting a comforting hand around her shoulders. "Han told me what Mothma decided and that you had 'gone off in a huff,' as he eloquently put it."
"Do you blame me?"
"Not in the least. I couldn't believe the news myself." He shook his head. "I just don't see why she would want him as a Rebel, amnesiac or not. So many people have suffered so much at his hands, he's bound to be shot inside an hour."
"If I had a blaster, I'd take care of that right now."
"No, Leia. For one thing, Mothma's posted guards at the med center doors. And for another thing, if either of us tries to kill him, we're no better than him. We'd be as much of murderers as he is."
"I hate it when you're right," she murmured, laying her head against his shoulder. Why did she feel so safe around Luke? It wasn't as if she was sexually attracted to him. It was more of a best-friend feeling, as if she could confide in him. Maybe it was because they had gone through so much together these past few days.
"You're not the only one hurt by him," Luke went on.
"Don't lecture me."
"I'm not. I'm just saying that he's hurt me too."
She sat up and looked him in the eye. "How... Kenobi! I'm so sorry. I forgot that he'd killed your Jedi Master..."
"Before that," Luke murmured, voice growing rough. "My father was once a Jedi Knight. He and Vader trained under Kenobi, and Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force. He... betrayed... and murdered my father."
She rested a hand on his. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a long time ago." He became thoughtful. "I wish I could remember what he looked like. I have no memory of him."
"I'm sure he looked a lot like you. Blue hair, blond eyes... handsome," she added teasingly.
He blushed. "Oh, stop it!"
She pushed him good-naturedly. "You always know how to make me feel better, Luke."
"Anything for a Princess of Alderaan." He stood. "Come on, let's get something to eat. Then I'm going in for more flight sims, if you want to watch me."
"You've been in the simulator all day. Are you glued to the chair or what?"
He laughed. "Commander Ghede says I need to keep myself up to par if I want to stay his second. Stang, he's strict!"
"But he's the best we've got," Leia replied. "And with more and more pilots being recruited from all corners of the galaxy, we need a firm hand over the squadron."
"I suppose you're right."
As they walked out of her quarters together, a distasteful expression crossed his face.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I just realized -- what if they make Vader a pilot? I mean, I saw him flying during the Death Star battle, and even a memory wipe can't clear out that much skill! If he's stuck in our squadron..."
"You'll deal with him," Leia replied. "I'm sure of it. We may not like it, but we're stuck with him for now."
***
...the desert sands were really flying in his face now, as Sebulba roared past him with a malicious cackle. Oh, that twisted creature was so going to pay for this! He leaned effortlessly into the curve, feeling the engines rumble as they compensated for the thrust of energy he poured into them...
Vader returned to reality with a shiver. He had found a place inside himself where, if he withdrew there for a time, he could meditate on his past and draw out a memory. The images he found were often unclear and never in chronological order, but they provided pieces of his life that he hoped he could piece together.
"No, no, no!" shrieked Forenze, lecturing a medical droid who was preparing a bacta tank for an incoming patient. "What idiot programmed your virus-corrupted memory banks? Burn victims get a 1:4 mix of bacta, while widespread lacerations get 1:6! We can't waste this stuff by soaking everyone who so much as scrapes their knees in a full-strength solution!"
"Dr. Forenze?" Vader interrupted.
"What?" she asked, somewhat less irritated. Vader suspected she was actually enjoying his questions, which provided a break in the constant chaos of the med center.
"I remember a race... with repulsor-vehicles of some sort... each was towed by two massive engines connected by a beam of energy. What sort of sport is that?"
"Oh, that's podracing," she replied. "Exhilarating to see but highly illegal, though I've seen a few in my lifetime. Why, you remember watching one?"
"No. I remember participating in one."
She shook her head. "That memory must be slightly flawed. Humans just don't have the reflexes to fly a podracer. Sorry."
He didn't believe her. The memory clearly placed him in the driver's seat. Perhaps he had a specially modified racer, or he had some sort of extra talent that allowed him to operate one.
He had regained some of his strength over the past twenty-four hours, and Forenze permitted him to walk around a bit from time to time. Right now he was seated close to the med center's only window, by the computer terminal, where he was perusing the Alliance's information files. After some tinkering he had been able to call up Luke Skywalker's stats, and these he read now.
LUKE SKYWALKER
AGE: 18
HOMEWORLD: Tatooine
SPECIES: Human
RELATIONS: Father -- Anakin Skywalker (deceased); Mother -- Unknown (presumed deceased); Spouse -- None
RANK: Second Commander of Alliance Fighter Squadron; Jedi Knight in training
HISTORY: Raised by aunt and uncle on family moisture farm until their deaths. Tutored briefly by Jedi General Obi-wan "Ben" Kenobi (now deceased). Involved in rescue of Princess Leia Organa from Death Star and delivery of Death Star plans to Alliance. Joined Alliance as pilot, flew with Red Squadron in Battle of Yavin. Responsible for destruction of Death Star; promoted to Second Commander of as-yet-unnamed fighter squadron for this action.
Vader shook his head. Nothing in here indicated he had known the boy previously. If anything, it only raised more questions. Who was Princess Leia? Who was Obi-wan Kenobi? Why did the name Anakin also seem familiar? What in the galaxy was the Death Star, and why did it need to be destroyed? Though with a name like the Death Star, it didn't take much imagination to see why it was so dangerous.
On a whim he entered another name into the computer, calling up a bio.
VLASK FORENZE
AGE: 38
HOMEWORLD: Corusant
SPECIES: Fosh
RELATIONS: Father -- Odrian Vergere (deceased); Mother -- Siyax Vergere (deceased); Spouse -- Nambaa Forenze (deceased)
RANK: Medical Officer
HISTORY: Born and raised on Corusant; parents worked as partners in law firm. Rumored to have Jedi uncle, presumed deceased. Attended medical school and worked as doctor in Corusant's Temple District until instatement of Empire. Joined in alien uprising against Empire that resulted in deaths of parents and husband. Fled planet and joined Alliance on Dantooine.
He felt incredibly sorry for Forenze, who had lost so much to the Empire. This organization had to be terribly cruel. Who in their right mind would serve such a twisted, sadistic regime?
/I wonder/ he thought, and tried one more name. A third bio appeared, complete with an image.
/Good stars, is that me?/ He placed a hand against his mask, examining it thoroughly by touch. As far as he could tell, it matched the one worn by the man staring back at him from the computer.
And a fearsome man he was -- broad shoulders, intimidating build and posture, a forever-snarling mask, battle armor, thick gauntlets, a cloak sweeping behind him to add to his impressive stature. Small wonder the few people who dared enter the med center were so nervous when they saw him. If he met this man on the street, he would give him a wide berth.
But it was the bio he was more interested in. It would provide a much-needed link to his past -- he hoped.
DARTH VADER
AGE: Unknown, estimated to be in early 40s
HOMEWORLD: Unknown
SPECIES: Human or humanoid
RELATIONS: Unknown
Not much here. Curses.
RANK: Sith Lord; Right-hand man of Emperor Palpatine
Stunned, he read that line again. And again, hoping it was an error. No. It couldn't be. He wasn't... he read on.
HISTORY: Little known about past; thought to have been a Jedi who left the Order. Came into power at time of Empire's rise. Responsible for destruction of Jedi Temple and genocide of entire Jedi Order. Commanded Imperial Fleet and ensured Emperor's orders were carried out. Notorious for killing lower officers who displeased him. Fought in aerial combat during Battle of Yavin and shot down; crashed on Yavin IV and captured by Alliance.
Hands trembling, he closed out of the bio. It couldn't be true! How could he be a mass murderer? The thought made him sick! He couldn't be an Imperial -- and the Emperor's right-hand man, to boot! Was he truly a Sith, a barbaric tyrant who killed his own men and countless others?
His vision blurred. It all made sense now. That was why he'd been strapped to the bed when he awoke. They had thought him dangerous. And everyone was scared witless of him because they thought he would lose his temper and slaughter all in his path at any moment.
Angrily he clenched his fists and covered his masked face. He was a murderer. Of all the cruel jokes fate could have played on him, this was by far the worst. If this was his past -- death, genocide, murder, tyranny -- he had no further desire to explore it.
But he couldn't shake the memories that came to him -- images that begged to be explained, faces that pleaded for recognition. Grudgingly he admitted that, while he may detest his past as an Imperial, he had to probe further into it. If nothing else, he had to find reasons for his actions. That way, he could ensure he never committed such crimes again.
He located a search program and typed in the name DARTH VADER. Over five hundred files were called up. It was time to start his research.