Sorry for the delay. Those of you who read "Pranks" know I have had technical difficulties this last week: an early morning thunderstorm fried my phone and had damaged my modem wire. It took longer than expected to get the proper wire. The first 2 I had bought hadn't worked. Luckily the modem itself wasn't damaged.
Penpals 27: Darth Vader
Lord Vader stalked behind the group of elite stormtroopers as they hurried through the icy tunnels of the Rebel Base on Hoth. The walls glistened around him and the floor was slick, which only caused the black char marks to stand out so much more. He easily stepped over icy rubble or moved larger chunks with a single flick of his wrist. Although the attack had proceeded as he had planned; most of the Rebels had escaped. Normally this would infuriate him to no end, for the Dark Lord hated failure yet his mind was set only on one thing: Luke.
The boy was here. He could sense him up ahead somewhere through a fledging Force link…
/My Son…/
Vader's doubt and fears about attacking the Rebel Base faded, his worries unfounded. The boy had survived the attack and even now was just up ahead somewhere. And if he were quick enough, they'd finally be together. The Sith Lord concentrated on the impossibly thin mist-like link between the two of them, ethereal and more fragile than glass. With time the bond would grow in strength and solidity, but that required them to spend time together. Concentrating, he reached out and tried to sense what Luke was feeling without much success. He would have to be satisfied to know his son was alive and hopefully well.
/Luke…/
Then the connection to Luke seemed to stretch out like an impossibly long rubber band and slowly faded. And no matter how he searched with the Force he couldn't sense the boy on Hoth…
/No! Luke!./
Vader increased his pace and followed the stormtroopers around a corner. One of the Rebel's hanger bays was just ahead and until a few seconds ago it had been where Luke had been. No doubt the foolish boy had escaped in his X-wing!
/And after all the trouble I had gone through to rescue him! I will not fail/
Lord Vader noticed the stormtroopers had stopped, their blasters held at the ready. The tunnel ahead was blocked by a huge chunk of fallen ceiling and a woman stood there calmly, her gaze locked right on his mask. A slight smile creased his lips under his breath mask. The mission hadn't been a total failure after all. "Princess. We meet again."
"Lord Vader. Late again?" Leia scoffed as she boldly stared at his mask totally unafraid. Her hands rested on her curved hips. "Or should I call you Anakin?"
/WHAT/
Shock rolled through Vader's body as the words of the Princess sunk into his brain. Intense heat surged through his system followed quickly by icy chills. Surely she hadn't just called him Anakin, had she?
/It can't be…./
No, the Princess couldn't possibly know his real identity…it was impossible! Only Luke and Solo knew, that much he was certain of. It was one of the truly rare moments in his life when he didn't have the slightest idea of what to do and Lord Vader always knew what to do. It was one of the reasons why he was in charge of the Imperial Fleet. A mark of a good commander was the snap ability to make quick decisions and he excelled at it. But this ….
/Princess Leia cannot know who I am…/
Yet she did. Another moment passed and he watched as a triumphant grin spread across her face. She held her head proudly, regally almost, her chin pointing slightly up towards the icy ceiling. He could see the victorious glint in her brown eyes as she had bested him.
/That blabbermouth Luke must have told her!./
An unfamiliar sense of uneasiness stabbed at the remains of his flesh-and-blood guts. Many of his body parts had been replaced but his guts were still the original ones and now they felt uneasy. A sharp pain flashed through them and it took all of his Jedi training not to flinch in front of his prisoner. He had trusted Luke not to tell too many people about his real identity, as he had told no one about Luke. And he had kept his word. True, he knew the boy had told Solo but now he was beginning to wonder how many other Rebels knew Lord Vader had once been a mere slave boy? What would such knowledge do to his reputation? He knew it had been a risk to tell his son, but he really had expected the boy to have better judgment than this!
/Does the entire blasted Rebel fleet know…./
"If you're looking for Luke, he's long gone by now." Leia calmly stated.
"But I have you, Princess." Vader tilted his mask to stare down at her. She was short and with her hair twined up on top of her head like that, for a brief second she reminded him of Padme. But then, he had been thinking of the past a lot these days since he had started writing to his son. Still, it was painful to see even a slight resemblance of his beloved wife after all these years. He had truly loved her and then he had lost her forever to the cold grip of death. Still, his heart pounded rapidly in his chest as the ghost stood before his breath mask and his footing felt unsteady and he feared that at any moment he would tumble to the floor in an untidy heap.
/Padme…./
Reality gripped him again and he knew the woman in front of him was not his deceased wife but that annoying Rebel traitor. Still, the resemblance gnawed at him like a determined dog working at a bone. Why did his mind's eye insist on seeing his beloved in the turncoat? He took a moment to study her, noticing her stance was that of a warrior. Yes, she possessed the same fighting spirit his beloved Padme had possessed and the hair yes that was it. Padme had always favored odd hairstyles that seemed to defy the laws of gravity and although the coil of braids were simple it was still enough to trigger the memory of the more elaborate coifs. She was also his only link to Luke and no memory was about to get in his way of finding the boy. "And I intend to keep you this time. There will be no miraculous escape this time, Princess."
Vader motioned with a black-gloved hand towards one of the troopers. "Cuff her."
"Yes, My Lord." The trooper stepped forward and locked the cuffs around her wrists.
"And now, Princess, you will accompany me to my shuttle." Vader motioned again and the troopers gripped the prisoner by her elbows, pushing her forward. They moved past Vader and he trailed behind them once again, his eyes locked on his unexpected prize. True, she wasn't Luke but with any luck she was enough to draw the boy to him again. Still, uneasiness twined through his guts again. What exactly did the Princess know about him? She obviously knew his name and that he was Luke's father but was that the extent of her knowledge? Had Luke let it slip accidentally in a moment of weakness, possibly while he was still recovering from his deathly ordeal? His annoyance at his son faded. The boy couldn't be blamed for what came out of his mouth while he was dying or in a state of delusions.
/Yet I never told him I was Vader…./
The cold realization gripped him tightly like talons ripping his remaining flesh.
/Luke knows who I am/
Yes, if the Princess knew than that meant his son must know as well. Was that why the he was so quick to escape? Did Luke hate him now? His son surely must for why else did he flee?
/I have screwed it all up again!./
A dark depression settled on Vader's heart as he continued to follow the stormtroopers and Princess Leia back towards the Imperial shuttle. No matter how hard he tried to do things the right way, they always turned out all wrong. Why? Why couldn't things go right for a change? Why must he be cursed to always loose the ones he loved and always arrive to late to save them? He had desperately wanted to save his mother only to have her die in his arms. Then he had failed again when he had lost control of his temper and killed the entire tribe of Tuscan Raiders. They had deserved to die, yes, but deep in his heart he knew his actions of that day had been wrong. Instead of learning from his mistakes, he had let fear rule him and that had resulted in Padme's death and the entire Jedi Order. He hadn't meant to do harm, really.
/I just wanted to save her…/
But it had backfired terribly and she had died anyway, killed by the very actions he had taken to save her.
/I'll never see Luke now…/
The curse of the Chosen One was still on his head working it's evil sorcery!
/Yes, Luke must hate me now that he knows the truth./
If the boy had really loved him he would have stayed and welcomed him with open arms. But he had discovered the awful truth about his father.
/I am a monster…/
Yes, he was a monster. Vader stared down at his black-gloved hand, the same hand he had used to kill innocent Jedi with. Well, technically it wasn't the same hand. His flesh, blood and bone hand he had lost long ago on that fateful day he really didn't want to think about. But symbolically it was the same; it was attached to the pitiful remains of his badly scarred body. Why couldn't he have died that day? Why must he be given hope and then have it snatched away before his eyes, to see his son fleeing from the hated murderer of the Jedi Order? For it was clear that how Luke must think now. Why else…
Vader's thoughts froze mid sentence.
/He fled because you were shooting at him!./
He felt like such an idiot. Of course Luke would flee an attack. What else could he possibly do?
/He'll never trust me now…/
Like his former owner, he had gambled and lost. All his hopes had ridden on catching Luke once and for all and now it was all ruined! And like the Princess had remarked, he had been late again! How could he be the fastest Podracer to ever live and yet be so slow? It was infuriating! And if he tried sending the boy another letter, he feared his mail would go unanswered. Now that Luke knew the truth that he was writing to Darth Vader, a Sith Lord….Surely the boy would not want to write to Darth Vader, would he?
He blinked his eyes rapidly, clearing the film of moisture that threatened to leak from them. The last thing he could afford at this moment was one of his uncontrollable crying fits. How in the galaxy did Luke do this to him? He felt like a puppet on a string, his emotions swinging this way and that with a flick of the boy's finger. He had always been emotional, sure, but he had never been this bad. Was this the price he was paying for all those unemotional years as Lord Vader? And was he still Lord Vader? Or was he now Anakin Skywalker again? He had been signing his letters with his former name but the black armor said he was still Vader. The thought shocked him to his morrow and he paused in the hall for a few moments, the loud echoes of his breathing bouncing off the ice walls and echoing down the long blast-damaged corridor.
/Who am I really?./
What was in a name anyway? Anakin had always been the reckless Jedi in love, the Podracer, the one who longed for a family he couldn't have. He had leaped out of airspeeders in the pursuit of criminals and had enjoyed every second of free falling through Coruscant's traffic. He had played pranks on both Obi-Wan and Watto. But perhaps most importantly than all, he had believed anything was possible: a slave gaining freedom and a Jedi a wife. Anakin had always had hope. Vader, however, had lost hope. He body was ruined beyond saving, his wife dead and the Order destroyed by his own hand. He had built his own trap and had become ensnared without possible escape.
Until now.
So who existed within the black armor, Anakin or Vader? It was an odd thought for the Sith Lord and he considered it, his breath loud and raspy. Did he wish to go back to being Anakin Skywalker? He had thought that person had been burned away beyond doubt, his ashes left to mingle on that volcanic wasteland. Yet he couldn't possibly be the same Anakin that had existed before. That Anakin had been perfect of body and a bit naïve. Yes, he had been naïve as hard as it was for him to admit. He had always thought himself street smart. But there had been someone smarter and more devious than him playing the game. And like an awe struck country boy visiting the city for the first time, he had walked right smack into it.
Was the situation salvageable? Could he regain Luke's trust?
/I could try…/
Do or do not. There is no try.
Yoda's words from his days as a Youngling leaped into his mind and he smiled weakly. Perhaps he did have a bit of hope after all. Maybe he was being too negative. Hadn't Obi-Wan said that about a billion times? Perhaps he could focus on the positive…but what was the positive?
/Luke is alive. I caught Princess Leia. Perhaps I do have hope./
And why had Leia really called him Anakin? Had she been flaunting her knowledge of his past as he had originally thought or had she meant something else by it? Could it be a gesture that she was willing to overlook and forget his past deeds, to actually say that he WAS Anakin now and not Vader?
Vader shook his helmet, confused. His mind felt befuddled, as if someone had packed it full of cotton and had forgotten to tell him. The Princess hated him! Surely she wasn't trying to send him some secret message, was she? The idea was absurd!
/I am going crazy. This business with Luke is driving me insane./
Yes, that was it. If he kept this double guessing up he'd end up in a nice padded cell sucking on his mechanical thumb. It would be utterly horrible!
/I must get a grip./
He allowed the machine relegating his heartbeat and breathing do its job and he felt more himself with each passing second. It was becoming clear that chasing Luke across the galaxy wouldn't get him anywhere. The boy would always be one step ahead of him for the simple reason that he wasn't cursed.
/At least he was spared that and I'm grateful./
Yes, he wouldn't wish that curse on anyone. But by constantly chasing Luke would he pass the curse along? His poor mother and Padme certainly had fallen due to it. Would Luke suffer the same fate if he kept pursuing him? The last thing he wanted was his son to die…
/I may kill him yet without meaning too…/
Vader hung his head sadly at the thought, the chin of his mask resting on his chest plate. This position caused a pain in his neck but the Sith Lord ignored it. He and pain were old companions.
/He may live a longer life without me…/
Yes, that was doubtlessly true. Luke would fly off with his friends and no doubt continue to go around blowing up more Imperial installations. He would forget about the letters and his deceiving father who had turned out to be a hideous monster in disguise. Perhaps he would enjoy blowing up Imperial stuff even more than knowing that his father was the famous Lord Vader. It would give him a sadistic thrill and every stormtrooper he shot down he could pretend it wore a black breath mask…
/Luke is not like that…/
The letters pointed that out clearly. Luke had said countless time that he had loved him and had cared about him. Still, it hurt that his devoted son had run off rather than meet him. And that was what was really bothering him. He had looked forward to finally seeing Luke face to mask. And now that might never happen.
/Perhaps I should let him go…./
What good could he really do for the boy? He could offer endless wealth and Jedi training, but at what cost? He may end up corrupting him as he himself had been corrupted. Had he not been generous as well when he had lived back on Tatooine? Had he not flown in the podrace with no thought of himself, just to help the stranded travelers that had entered Watto's shop one day? Where had that boy gone? When had he become so corrupted? Did living with the Jedi somehow change him? Surely it all couldn't have been Palpatine's fault, even if the man had been a Sith Lord. He remembered how out-of-place he felt when he had first arrived at the Temple and had started living there. The others had all known each other since they were infants and he had been a stranger; an unheard of thing at the Temple. The Temple never accepted strangers. He had been dressed funny and had a strange accent. Vader clearly remembered how hard he had worked to give himself a Coruscant accent just so he could fit in among his new classmates. They didn't understand him or his past life. How could they? They had grown up in the Jedi crèche and he had had a mother. He might as well been from another universe…
Yet the desire for a family still burned within his chest, even though it might corrupt the boy.
/How could I possibly let him go now that I found him?./
He just wasn't strong enough to do that.
/But I can't catch him either./
That much was true.
/I must have faith that he still loves me and that somehow he will come to me…/
Faith. It had never helped him before. Why should it help him now?
It was sheer madness.
/Perhaps if I believe…/
Vader tilted his mask upward and stared for a moment up at the icy ceiling, unseeing. Perhaps if he focused on the positive his luck would change. In control once again, Vader started down the corridor after the departed stormtroopers and their prisoner. In short order, he reached the shuttle and walked up the ramp. The stormtroopers already had the Princess secure in a seat in the back and he sat next to her. The troopers saluted him smartly and made way to take off for the Executor. He was alone in the compartment with her, the guards stationed up front in the cockpit. With Lord Vader sitting next to the Rebel, they certainly weren't needed to guard her. She was, after all, just an unarmed cuffed female.
/But so was Padme in the Geonosis arena and look at what she did to that Nexu!./
Yes, the poor nexu had gotten kicked and knocked down from that helpless female! And if he wasn't mistaken, the Princess had the same spark of fire his beloved did.
/I miss her…./
Perhaps Lord Vader had been washed away with all the recent tears and Anakin was back again, a much richer, wiser Anakin. But was he back for good or would Lord Vader rise yet again? Could they both exist together or was that impossible?
He became aware of eyes watching him and he turned to see it was Princess Leia. He had expected to see hate on her face or possibly fear and if not that, then smug disdain. But what he found there was something else entirely. It was hard to say exactly what it was. Over the years Lord Vader didn't see that many facial expressions any more. No, it was always fear and terror that greeted him these days. And if it wasn't that then it was open hatred with prisoners boldly spitting on his boots, revulsion clear in their eyes. But this looked like something akin to curiosity.
/Surely she is not curious about me…/
No one had ever been openly curious about him and probably for good reason. Vader presumed the crew secretly wondered what he looked like under the mask but that was different. It was idle in nature. But the Princess was bold if nothing else. If anyone would dare to ask him something it would be her and he began to dread her question, whatever it might be. Her gaze on him intensified and her eyes flickered slightly this way and that.
"Are you Anakin Skywalker?"
His heart skipped a beat and before he knew what he was doing he found himself answering her. "Yes, yes I am Anakin Skywalker."
To be continued…
Hope that was good!