Penpals 17: Darth Vader
/How do I feel about killing Kenobi? How the Force an I to answer that?!/
Vader's first instinct was to say he felt glad that Obi-Wan was dead, but now he wasn't sure. Luke's letters were mixing him all up and he felt like one of Tatooine's famous sand storms were brewing inside his soul. Everything was spinning around rapidly and he felt confused. The truth was, he had no idea of how he felt about Kenobi's death, not any more. Darth Vader straightened his back and stood up straight, his arms crossed over his chest in a fear-inspiring position. He was a Sith and Sith killed Jedi.
/I am glad he's dead for I have had my revenge./
But was that true?
The Dark Lord of the Sith began to pace around his quarters, thinking. If he was truly glad that Obi-Wan was dead, why had he smiled when his thoughts had lingered on him earlier? Could warm feelings for his former Master still linger inside his heart?
/That is impossible! I hate him for stealing my wife and shoving me into that molten pit!/
Then, as if from nowhere, a new and strange thought wormed its way into his head.
/Could I be mistaken about him pushing me?/
Vader stopped in his tracks as if he had walked straight into a duracrete wall. Where in the galaxy had that thought come from? In all the years since his accident he had never considered another possibility other than Kenobi shoving him in. They had, after all, been engaged in a fierce lightsaber battle. Tempers had run high on both sides and things quickly escalated. One thing led to another and before they knew it there was no possibility of repairing their friendship. They had tried their hardest to kill each other that day and Obi-Wan had almost succeeded.
/No, it's not possible!/
True, they had once been close and he would have done anything to save Obi-Wan's life but those days were long gone. Things had just fallen apart between them. Kenobi had refused to accept that his young Padawan had fallen in love with a woman, a politician no less. And when he had found out they had actually gotten married he had been furious. All those years of training down the drain and wasted because the foolish boy couldn't control his lusts!
/If only Obi-Wan could have understood!/
But that other thought still nagged at him.
/Could Obi-Wan have been trying to save me?/
Vader shook his head, his loud breathing the only sound in the room. At one time it would have been the natural thing to do and Kenobi would have done it without thinking, acting on sheer instinct. But on that day…
/No, it's not possible./
Luke's letters were putting odd thoughts in his head. The boy was naïve and convinced of Kenobi's goodness. What did he know of how people could change? He was young and had never tasted the bitter taste of betrayal, the sweet taste of revenge.
/Yet if he were reaching out towards me…/
The Jedi's arms would be outstretched, the same position a person would have used for pushing.
/I don't know what to believe anymore…/
Reaching for the seals around his mask, Vader removed the black breath mask and helmet, then rubbed his tired eyes with a gloved hand. He allowed his body to fall back against the nearby wall, tilting his head backward until he could see the plain white ceiling. The wall's coolness slowly soaked into the badly scarred skin of his head and he tried to breath on his own. Every so often he attempted it but the results were always the same: a few raspy, struggled breaths and then he was forced to hook up to the respirator. Now the results were worse than ever due to his emotional state. He drew in a ragged breath and his lungs faltered, heavy iron bands squeezing his chest until dark dots swam before his eyes. With a gurgled groan, Vader hurled himself the short distance to the respirator and hooked himself up to it.
/He must have pushed me!/
For Darth Vader, Sith though he may be, didn't want to face the alternative.
/If I'm wrong, I killed him for no reason./
The Dark Side was quick to add its own two cents.
/He was a Jedi and all Jedi must die!/
A younger, more hopeful voice spoke from memory.
/He was also my friend./
Collapsing into a sitting position on his bed, Vader tried to remember exactly what had happened on that day. He had already been a Sith and apprentice to Dark Sidious after killing Dooku in a fierce fight. It hadn't been easy to defeat the master swordfighter but he had persevered and had won the right to be Sidious' apprentice. There was no doubt he had enjoyed slicing Dooku in half that day. The old man deserved it for taking his arm on Geonosis and frying him with the Force lightning. Anger had surged through his heart, making him powerful. The taste of pure power had been heady. Then he had gone seeking his former Master to get revenge. Kenobi had stolen his wife and hid her away somewhere. The rage he had felt at this abduction had been incredible. He had loved Padme and would do anything to get her back, including killing the responsible party.
He had finally caught up with the man on some distant world in the middle of a volcanic upheaval. Kenobi had been sent there by the Jedi Council to help in rescue efforts. Hot ash filled the air and steam poured forth from vents. One by one the various volcanoes were becoming active and residents had to be moved to safety. Like usual, there were problems. People who had lived near the quite volcanoes refused to believe that their volcano would erupt, even if another elsewhere were doing so. They couldn't seem to understand that a meteorite from space had set things into motion and there was no stopping it. The Seperatists had destroyed the safety device that normally stopped such things from happening and the peaceful planet hadn't been able to destroy the oncoming rock in time. Either people moved or they would die. There was no way to stop plate tectonics. The only thing that had saved them from the usual giant tsunami was the planet's lack of large bodies of water. Like all Jedi, Obi-Wan was willing to risk his life to save strangers he didn't know. He had honor, bravery and a man of good character: your perfect Jedi.
/He was a close-minded old fool!/
Vader felt better for a few seconds, then his doubt returned. He remembered the beginning of the fight well enough. They had slashed their way up the steep side of a volcano, their lightsabers flashing in the gray air. This particular volcano wasn't fully active yet, but all the signs were there. Poisonous fumes wafted from deep slits on its sides, the white smoke hot enough to burn a person's skin. Every so often the ground trembled violently beneath their feet and they had to struggle to keep their balance. Before they knew it, they had reached the caldera, the very heart of the volcano.
/We were both fools for fighting in the caldera./
Although the footing looked solid, all it would take was a misstep to fall to a fiery death. Walking on the caldera was like treading on thin ice: you couldn't tell where it was safe to step because it all looked the same. The anger had consumed both of them and the fight was the only thing on their minds. Until that fateful moment, that is…
For what seemed the millionth time, Vader pulled the very moment that haunted his nightmares to the forefront of his mind. But it solved nothing, for all he could see was a blurry image of Kenobi with his arms outstretched.
/This is useless! I can't tell if he's trying to save me or if he's pushing me!/
Vader felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under his feet and he were falling into a deep, bottomless pit. What if his whole life as Palpatine's apprentice had been built on a lie? All he knew for certain that he and Obi-Wan had fought and tried to kill each other that fateful day. He only had Palpatine's word and a blurry memory as evidence that he had been pushed.
/Did Palpatine lie to me?/
The Emperor was the master of deceit. It would have been easy for Palpatine to convince him Kenobi had been responsible for his injuries, thus securing the deep hatred that kept him on the Dark Side.
/Obi-Wan had tried to reason with me first that day./
But the only thing his younger self had been able to think of was Padme and the fact that Kenobi refused to tell him where she was. Then his former Master had prattled on about some foolish idea that it had been Palpatine that had been trying to kill Padme all along. Of course, he hadn't believed that. Palpatine was his long-time friend and understood him far better than Kenobi had.
/Perhaps Palpatine was just better at manipulating me./
The Emperor had excelled at sweet talk and telling his younger self exactly what he craved to hear: how great he was and that he was destined to be the most powerful Jedi ever.
/Like usual, I was to eager to rush in and not think things through./
How would his life be now if he had listened to Obi-Wan that day? Would he really have been expelled from the Jedi Order just because he had gotten married? Would he have known his son since birth and had the joys of raising him, perhaps even sharing those joys with his too stiff, by-the-rules Master?
/Perhaps I could have won him over to my side if I wouldn't have lost my temper./
The more Vader thought about it, the more his accident seemed to be just that: an accident.
/I might have stepped in the wrong spot and the ground broke under my weight./
Luke could very well be right about Obi-Wan. But if that was true, he had killed an innocent man. And how was he to explain all these things to his son? The letter was still waiting on his computer, most of it still unread. And there was still the possibility the boy would want a current photo.
/What can I tell him when I'm so unsure of what really happened?/
Emotion whirled up inside him and he felt as out of control as a leaf caught in the winds of a tornado. Picking up the black mask, he stared at it for a long moment. This, more than anything, represented his injury. The overhead light caused white highlights and shiny reflections on the slick, smooth curves. He had designed it himself so long ago…long ago when he had been sure who to hate and blame for his current condition.
A tear leaked from the corner of his right eye, running down his scarred cheek until it dripped onto the mask with a soft ping. His throat tightened and soon his vision blurred, the mask becoming a black blur. He dropped it to the floor and it rolled slightly until coming to a stop near his booted feet. He hid his scarred face in his hands and cried.
Obi-Wan had been his only friend and he had killed him!
/I feel so horrible!/
The guilt chewed at him, causing him to feel miserable. A Sith wasn't suppose to feel like this. But he did.
Darth Vader wiped his face with the back of a hand, and then rose to his feet. Hauling the respirator hose with him, he walked over to the computer and settled into the chair. He wasn't sure yet what he would tell Luke, but it was time to read the rest of his son's letter.
/Perhaps it's all for the best that I learn the truth, no matter how horrible it is./
But did the same apply to Luke? Could he actually tell Luke that he, Darth Vader, was his father? The problem was, he had no idea of how to go about such a thing.
/Perhaps I could capture him and then tell him./
Yes, that way would be best. If he just informed the boy in a letter he may never write back and then where would he be?
/I must think on this more./
Vader read the rest of his son's letter, smiling at bits of it. And like he had half expected, Luke wanted a current photograph of him. How was he to do that? And more importantly, did that smuggler Solo suspect the truth of his identity? If so, there wasn't anything he could do about it now. He would just have to think of someway to take a photo of himself.
/If I'm that brave, that is./
Still, if Luke wanted it then he'd have to do it, no matter how painful it might be. At least his son was safe for the moment. Flexing his fingers, Darth Vader began to type a reply.
Dear Luke,
I was very glad to hear from you again and that you're staying warm on your friend's ship. You have no idea how much your letters mean to me and how much they're affecting me, especially your questions about Ben. I had actually cried a while ago as I thought about him.
Yes, Ben Kenobi was my teacher but I knew him by the name of Obi-Wan. He was my friend and companion for years. In fact, he was the closest thing I had ever had to a father. I had loved him dearly and had lost my arm saving him, as I had told you in a previous letter. But now I'm beginning to think that I'm the fool.
I was once so certain that he had shoved me into that pit of molten lava but now I don't know what to think. You see, my memories of that particular moment aren't all that clear. I'm beginning to think now that there's a possibility that he was reaching out to save me, not push me. I'm so confused at the moment that I don't know what to think. There is also the very real possibility that a Master Sith has messed with my mind on more than one occasion. You see, Vader isn't the only Sith I know. I know the Emperor as well. It was he who had originally told me that Ben had been responsible for my injuries. Since we had been fighting, it was very easy to believe him.
My whole current life may be based on a lie. You have no idea how that feels. I have totally ruined my life and there's no way to fix it. You're the only bright spot in it and I'm scared I'll loose you once you learn the horrible truth about me. There are so many things I haven't told you yet.
I'm sure you'll hate me then.
I haven't looked in a mirror for near to twenty years. I'm terrified of what I may see when I do. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. It's quite easy to live a life without a mirror. Over time I just got used to it. But I'll get a new photo and send it with the next letter, as I know how much it means to you. You're forcing me to face things I've been avoiding for so long…
I realize lots of my current problems are most likely my own fault. Obi-Wan had told me repeatedly to be patient but I never listened. I was too eager to rush in without thinking. That's how I lost my arm. A Sith cut it off because I was too eager to take him on instead of fighting him with my Master.
Please be patient and don't make the same mistakes I have.
As to how I feel about Ben dying? Well, I miss him and I feel responsible for his death. Truthfully, I feel horrible at the moment. You have no idea how horrible. If it weren't for my entire messed-up life, I could have still been his friend and saved him. And yes, I know Darth Vader killed him. I know it all too well. But there's nothing I can do about that now. You can't change the past. Not even a Jedi can do that.
I wish I could…
If I could, I would have been there as your father all these years. We could have lived on your mother's world of Naboo. You would have liked the Lake Country. I loved it the short time I was there. I spent my honeymoon there, you know. It's all grasslands and waterfalls and lakes … just beautiful! I loved it so much because it was so different than harsh Tatooine. And if only Obi-Wan could have accepted the fact that I was married and truly loved your mother, he could have been like a second father to you. But I think I understand his fears now. He put all those years into training me and then I went and did something like getting married. That made him a failure as a Master. I mean, I wasn't supposed to get married. No Jedi is. And since I did, the Jedi Council was probably going to kick me out. To make matters worse, I was the Chosen One. It was a big responsibility to train the Chosen One and I think Obi-Wan felt like he was under great pressure. Things just exploded then and it all went down hill. That's how I ended up the way I am now.
I miss Obi-Wan…
I wish he were here now to tell me how to straighten out this gigantic mess.
I'll send the photo with the next letter…
Please don't hate me. Remember that hate leads to the Dark Side.
Hope you are well.
Your Father,
Anakin
Darth Vader pressed the button and sent the letter on its way.
To be continued…