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Chapter 2: Darth Vader

It was the next day aboard the Star Destroyer Executor and everyone aboard her was walking around on proverbial tiptoes. Word had spread quickly that Lord Vader for some unknown reason was in a fowl mood. Little things seem to set him off and everyone hoped he wouldn't visit their department that day. Little did they imagine that his disposition had nothing to do with how they performed their duties. In fact, their duties were the last thing on his mind.

/When is this day going to end?/

Never had a day seemed so long to Darth Vader. He excelled at command and enjoyed supervising the men under him, but today it just annoyed him. He had to constantly fight the urge to go check his mail for a reply to the penpal ad he had posted last night. Upon waking in the morning, checking his mail had been the first thing on his mind. And that strange feeling, a mix of both excitement and dread, annoyed him. No matter what, he was determined to do his duty and push the ridiculous notion from his mind.

But it wasn't that easy.

/It's not important. I don't care if anyone replies or not. It's insane to expect a reply this early./

Darth Vader stood on the bridge, arms crossed over the blinking lights on his chest. He pretended to watch the viewscreen. The stars zipping past used to interest him, but even their beauty couldn't stop the war within his mind.

/But mail on the galaticweb travels at the speed of light. There could be a reply in the mailbox right now!/

It was becoming clear that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on his work until he checked the darn mail. Turning, he headed for the lift. "If anything arises, I will be in my quarters."

Anticipation bubbled up inside him, something he normally only felt these days when pursuing Rebels and the kill was closing in. It was the same thrill he used to feel when driving at reckless speeds in his younger days.

/How can the possibility of a letter make me feel like this? It's ridiculous!/

After what seemed like forever, Lord Vader reached his quarters. Normally he would take advantage of the opportunity to rid himself of his body armor and mask, but checking his mail was all that mattered. Going to his computer, he turned it on. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk as he waited for the various systems to load so he could operate it. Finally it was ready and he called the appropriate program up. Within seconds he was on the galaticweb and into his mail program. Nervously he scrolled down the items in his mailbox, dismissing most of them as work-related. But an unfamiliar address caught his eye.

/Could it be?/

Without pause, he clicked it and it opened.

/YES! It's a letter! Someone sent me a letter!/

Eagerly he read the letter, quickly reaching the end. Then he read it again.

/What had Farmboy blown up?/

Surely it couldn't have been the Death Star? Some hotshot Rebel had blown it up not too long ago. The Force had been strong with him, which was unusual. Could this be the very same Rebel? But what were the odds of that? It was astronomical.

/But the Force has a way of playing tricks on us, arranging unlikely things to happen. Was this such a trick?/

Vader pondered the question for several long minutes. Did it really matter if it was the Rebel?

/Yes, it should./

Conversing with the enemy could be considered treason.

/But only if someone finds out and who would dare read his mail? Besides, it could be anyone. The object could have been anything, a ship or space station./

Besides, this was interesting. It would be an enticing puzzle trying to discover who his mystery penpal was. But more importantly, he finally had someone to talk to.

/At least this person is interesting, not dull talk about the weather. But what should I say in reply?/

The old saying that honesty is the best policy popped into his mind. He would just tell Farmboy the truth, marring certain details, of course. His fingers poised over the keyboard, he began to type.

Dear Farmboy,

Thank you for answering my penpal ad. I was very excited to receive your letter. It has been a long time since I conversed with anyone like this due to my job and I find myself eagerly awaiting your next letter.

I too have blown up objects with people on board. The first time I did this I was only nine-years-old. Does that surprise you? I found myself in the middle of a great space battle, laser blasts all around me. I ended the battle by blowing up the enemy's main ship. I found the whole thing quite exciting. It was just like playing a video game. I don't think at the time I realized the danger I was in. I never really did feel guilty about that. The enemy had been unjustly attacking an innocent planet, the most beautiful and amazing place I had ever seen. It may be hard to believe, but I was in love with the Queen of that planet. She had been the most beautiful creature I had ever seen and I had been willing to do anything for her.

One time I did feel guilty was … you must understand it's difficult for me to think about it. It happened so long ago, yet when I think of it the pain still feels fresh. My mother … had been kidnapped … and tortured … by these beasts. I had been away at school and arrived too late to save her. She died in my arms. Then the anger took me and I slaughtered them all. At the time I had thought they all deserved to die for what they had done, but later I felt guilty. Perhaps I shouldn't have killed the woman and children… but I did. I couldn't go back and change it. But then, I guess the children would have grown up to be just like the parents, attacking and killing more innocents for no real reason. As for the guilt I felt, I guess I never really had time to process it. Things were happening very quickly and I got called away. Perhaps if I'd had someone to talk about it to, someone I could trust…

Time will dim your guilty conscious, I'm sure. But war is war. People die in wars. If you wish to be an effective warrior, you must learn this. Either you kill them or they'll kill you. There's no middle ground.

Might I ask what it was you blew up?

Your penpal,

Podracer

Darth Vader paused, unsure about sharing such private information with a total stranger. Could he trust this Farmboy? The last person he had trusted, well, it hadn't turned out very well. Would this penpal be any different? Or would he be another disappointment?

And what if he really was a Rebel?

/Well, I'll find out soon, I guess. Either that or Farmboy won't reply. Either way, my identity is safe./

Vader pressed the button to send the letter on its way. Signing off the galaticweb, he shut off his computer and headed out of his quarters. Enough goofing off, he had duties to attend to.

To be continued…

Sorry this is short, but I'll have Luke's reply up soon! Hope this chapter meets your expectations. I've been a bit busy this week but I'll have lots of time to write over the weekend.