Chapter 4: Darth Vader
All day the thought had lurked at the back of the Sith Lord's mind.
/Am I writing to the Rebel that blew up the Death Star?/
Vader secretly grinned under his mask at the irony of the thought, of the possibilities that his penpal may offer. It was all within his grasp: the end of the Rebellion, the death of the pitiful Alliance, the deaths of loyal citizens revenged. He could almost imagine it; almost hear the sounds of the celebration that Palpatine would no doubt hold. And all brought about my one lonely soul who wrote to a stranger.
But it would only come to pass if Farmboy was the Rebel he sought, the foolish Rebel that was writing to the Dark Lord himself.
For long idle moments standing on the bridge of the Executor, Vader played through several different scenarios within his head. He imagined the shock and horror on Farmboy's face as he finally realized what he had done. Farmboy, as his nickname suggested, would have an innocent, naïve face. His fellow Rebels would stare at him, aghast at the betrayal from such an innocent, from their Hero. There would be mass confusion. Shouting, weapons discharging, fighting among themselves. Perhaps some of his angry friends would even try to kill Farmboy for his treason. Then the rumors would start quickly; that he had never been one of them at all but always had been an undercover spy for the Empire. His reputation would be forever ruined among his allies. He would be forced to flee for his life and he would only have one place left to go.
/To me./
But so much hung on a naïve boy's decision. Would he write back? And if he did, would he admit to blowing up the Death Star? Or would he just simply vanish into the deep fathoms of the galaticweb, never to be heard from again?
/Write to me. Together we can end this war that has killed so many./
And what was to become of Farmboy if he survived the wrath of his friends? Vader's mind flew back in time and once again he was in the cockpit of his Tie Interceptor, flying down the trench after the X-wing. The pilot had been strong with the Force, unusually strong. Was Farmboy the secret spawn of some Jedi, some last desperate chance for the Order's survival? Or was he just the natural output of normal parents, one child that had received the Force through the spin of the dice?
/I could take him for my apprentice. Together we could be strong./
Yes, the Sith Lord thought as he left the bridge and entered the lift. It could be done. He would make sure that Farmboy survived the coming battle, whenever that would be. It would take time, but he could gain the young man's trust.
/But I must also trust him. I have foolishly given him much information about myself, things no one knows./
A surge of anxiety surged through Vader's body, his mechanical aids having to adjust to the sudden rush of heat.
/I am safe. The boy is naïve. He has no idea who I am./
But how could he be sure?
/His next letter will prove it. If he suspected my identity he wouldn't dare write back./
Vader pondered the possibilities. What would a foolish boy do with the information at his fingertips? Technically, there was no way he could harm the Dark Lord with it. Both Smea and Padme were long dead. There would be no one to verify the facts. As far as anyone knew, Anakin Skywalker had died long ago on some violent world, another causality of the Clone Wars. The only one who still knew his true identity was Palpatine himself and the Emperor certainly wouldn't help the boy. No, Farmboy had no idea what he held in his mail file. And most likely, the information would continue to sit there until it grew old and vanished from the system.
Then a new thought occurred to Vader.
/What if I had foolishly frightened him off?/
Although the boy's innocence would work in his favor, it could also easily work against him. His bloody tale of killing the village of Tuskan Raiders might have been more than the boy could stomach. What did Farmboy think when he read that? Vader had meant the story to help him, but what if it had done the opposite?
/He might think me a vicious monster now./
Vader reflected that the assessment wasn't that far from the truth. In some ways he was a monster, a cold, calculating monster with an amazingly fast brain and even faster reflexes. And he held the power of the Dark Side within his grasp. Only a true fool would oppose Darth Vader!
/Perhaps I should do some damage control. The situation could still be salvageable./
Vader entered his private quarters, intent on sending Farmboy another email to assure him he wasn't some homicidal maniac. When he had written the reply with the ghastly story, he hadn't been exactly himself. He had been too eager, too open, too trusting of a stranger.
/It will not happen again. That odd feeling will not overcome my darkness, my intelligence./
Since it was the end of another day, he removed his black body armor, mask and helmet. It was refreshing to be free of the tight confinement, even if he did have to hook himself up to a respirator. Sitting down before his private computer, he turned it on and was looking through his mail a short time later. To his surprise, a letter from Farmboy was waiting for him.
/So, it is as I had expected. He has no inkling as to my identity./
Opening the letter, Vader was pleased to see that this one was much longer and no doubt contained more information about Farmboy. Eagerly he began to read the first paragraph. A grin spread across his face when he discovered Farmboy thought he was an incredible person.
/If only you knew how incredible, my innocent little Farmboy!/
But the smile quickly faded.
/Suns?/
Darth Vader stared at the line again.
/I would stand outside and watch the suns set./
It could have been a line out of his old life, had been a line from his old life. How many times as a young child had he stood outside the hovel he shared with his mother in the slave quarters? He had stood out there on calm evenings staring skyward, looking at the distant stars and dreaming. And unlike most planets, Tatooine was a binary system with two suns. Had Farmboy grown up on his old home world or was it a simple typo?
/No, he is from Tatooine! The Falcon…/
Yes, the Princess had smuggled information out with the two droids, droids that had crashed to Tatooine. They had been found by Jawas and sold to a moisture farmer. Eagerly Vader started to read the next paragraph. More sentences leaped off the computer at him. So, someone had murdered his guardians while he had been out. Could Farmboy be referring to his stormtroopers?
/What are the odds that this is the same boy from Tatooine, the same Rebel that blew up the Death Star?/
Yet the more Vader read, the more it looked that way. Yes, there it was! Farmboy said the object had been a space station!
/It IS the Rebel! I have him now!/
Yet other parts of the letter nagged at him, stealing part of his elation from him. There was more to this puzzle of the boy than him being the Rebel that had blown up the Empire's super weapon, a lot more.
/The Force, the boy has the Force./
Vader went back to the paragraphs where Farmboy talked of his family. So, he never knew his parents but his father had fought in the Clone Wars. Interesting. He was sure he was missing some vital clue and yet felt that it was right before his nose if only he could see it. But what was it?
/Perhaps his father was a Jedi./
But what Jedi would dare defy the Council and reproduce? They all had been such scared little stooges, jumping at the slightest wave of a Council Member's hand. Only one among them had been dashing enough to get married and that had been the Chosen One himself. But even he had not reproduced.
/Or did I?/
Vader laughed at the crazy idea, the sound odd to his ears from long years of not laughing.
/It's insane! This Rebel can't be my SON!/
But when Vader closed his eyes, he was on the Death Star once again. His red lightsaber was lit before him and he was facing Obi-Wan for a finale time. What more proof did he need of the boy's parentage? His old master might as well have been wearing a big sign around his neck shouting that Farmboy was his son!
/I have a son!/
Warmth that he hadn't felt in decades began flowing inside him. No longer was he alone in the cold and uncaring galaxy. After so many years he had a family, a finale gift from his beloved Padme.
/Padme, I miss you so…/
He could almost see her as she had been all those years ago; her dark long hair in loose ringlets falling over her shoulders, her eyes happy at seeing him, her lush lips, how smooth her skin had been…
/But what am I to do? I just can't tell Farmboy I'm his father, can I?/
And what of the other questions in his letter? My son wants to know where I live and what I look like. How am I to answer those questions without revealing who I am? For once he finds out I'm Darth Vader, he'll…
/My son will hate me./
A part of Vader's mind chipped in:
/Hatred is good. It'll bring him to the Dark Side./
Yes, it could bring him to the Dark Side, but is that what he truly wanted? For if he did that, his son would end up being Palpatine's slave.
/I have never been free. I have been a slave my whole life to one person or another./
But didn't his son deserve a better life, to be free?
/But I want my son in my life and it's obvious from his letter he wants his father in his. How can that happen when we are on opposite sides?/
Vader realized this wasn't something he could decide quickly. No, it needed deep thought and planning. For the moment writing a reply to his newly acquired son would be the best way to spend his time. He would need to figure out how to answer the questions about where he lived and his appearance. After some thought, Vader decided being truthful about both questions would be best. Since a Star Destroyer held thousands of men aboard, perhaps Farmboy wouldn't be too surprised that his penpal served on one. And as for his looks, well, he could describe his real appearance; how he looked under the mask. That way, his innocent boy still wouldn't know it was he.
/Perhaps I could fish him out with clues, slowly lead him to the truth./
Yes, that could work and it could work quite well. And since he is so naïve, he will no doubt think he discovered it all on his own.
/But what will happen when he discovers who you really are?/
Vader remembered the horrible scream that had echoed through the landing bay of the Death Star when he had killed Obi-Wan. His son had been so close to him that day and he hadn't even known. And it had been his son that had screamed in horror at the death of his … master? Had Obi-Wan took his son as another apprentice? And exactly how much had the boy learned? Recalling the contents of the new letter, Vader decided he must have been with Kenobi only a very short time. Darn that Obi-Wan! It was without a doubt the first murder the boy had witnessed and his old master had arranged it that way.
/To make me look like a monster to my own son./
He was just about to start writing his letter when he remembered another question his inquisitive and open son had asked.
/How am I going to explain about my father … or lack of one?/
The last thing Vader wanted was to remember he was the so-called Chosen One! The prophecy had brought him nothing but a troubled life. What had started out as a dream come true had turned out to be a nightmare.
/Them and their stupid prophecies!/
With a sigh that sounded more like a gasp, Darth Vader began another letter to his penpal that just happened to be his son.
Dear Farmboy,
I received your letter today. Thank you for the compliment of saying I am an incredible person. Coming from you, that means a lot to me. I am confident I could teach you many things if you only give me the opportunity to. Like you, I too, used to stand outside at dusk and watch the suns set and the stars come out. I grew up on Tatooine. Are you by any chance familiar with the planet? It's a dry, desolate world of sand, sand and more sand. My mother and I were slaves. A Toydarian owned us and I spent my earliest years working in his junk shop fixing machine parts. Luckily, I was quite good at this or we never would have lasted that long. Then one day I won my freedom in a podrace. I couldn't believe I was free. But my mother was still a slave and had to stay behind while I left to go to school on a distant planet. My schooling was thanks to a man that had entered the junk shop one day searching for parts for his broken ship. It was one of those chance meetings arranged by fate. In the past, one might have called it the Force.
It was Tusken Raiders that had killed my mother…
You asked what I looked like. Well, I'm afraid I am not pretty. Some might even call my appearance grotesque. I have been in many battles and survived the Clone Wars. My body was badly injured. In one of the earliest battles of the Clone War my arm was chopped off. I lost it saving another I deeply cared for, but what happened to that person is another story best left for another day. Needless to say, many of my parts are machines. Towards the end of the Wars, I was severely injured and almost died. A pit of bubbling magma was involved. The pain was like nothing you can imagine. I'm not sure how I survived, but I did. But I was badly scared. I still live with the very real physical pain of that day even now, for my machine parts have not bonded correctly to my body. In my youth I used to be handsome and dashing, but now I'm just ugly. It hurts to look in a mirror at myself, so I avoid it. But I have blue eyes and my hair used to be blondish-brown.
I live, as you might have guessed, in the Empire. After my accident, they were the ones who took me in and cared for me. I now work and serve aboard a Star Destroyer. It is the only life I've known since the accident but I'm lonely.
The Queen I mentioned in my last letter: when her two terms ended she was elected Senator. We were married on her home planet in a secret ceremony. Why secret, you ask. Well, the school I was attending was responsible for that. They may have taken me in and given me an education but they were also very strict. They didn't want us to have any friends or to get married. Those things that you take for granted were forbidden to me. They had a code and everyone was expected to follow it, forever. But I fell in love and married my beautiful lady.
Her name was Padme.
We were separated during the Clone Wars and I was later told she had died. But I think we may have had a son, an infant that was lost during all the confusion. I'm not sure, as at the time I was serving out on the front lines and communications were guarded. Besides, our marriage was a secret. Sometimes I wonder what may have became of him…
My father? That is a bit hard to explain. I had no father. It's one of the reasons I was freed of being a slave and taken to that school. I don't mean my father ran away, I mean there was none at all. It has to do with some old prophecy that has brought me nothing but grief and loneliness. The people running the school themselves didn't even understand it.
You said you got yourself mixed up in some other people's war. Are you sure you're on the right side? Don't let the fact that there's a cute, rich girl there decide for you. Like you said, she's interested in that older guy. You should learn all the facts before you choose sides.
Just think about it.
Your penpal,
Podracer
Vader reread his letter and was satisfied. He had planted a few tantalizing clues within the text and hope his son was clever enough to actually see them. Then he clicked the button that sent the letter on its way to his son.
To be continued…