The morning after, just like the previous mornings, Vader knew the child was gone the moment he opened his eyes.
Brushing the matter aside, Vader exited his chamber and stood beside it for some time, feeling strange.
Cold.
Frowning, he checked the temperature of the room, and verified it was the same he had set months before.
But he still felt cold.
His gaze was drawn to something settled on the outside of his pod. Something that could only be seen once the chamber was open.
The cuddly toy.
Vader took it in his hand and looked at it. And for the first time in years, an amused little grin covered his features.
Shaking his head, the Sith Lord put the toy away and sat at his computer.
He hadn't forgotten his attempted murder. He had been thinking about it all night, and he knew where to start.
The dart and the weapon.
Five minutes later, his screen flashed with the words "Match Found."
Vader bent forward and started reading.
"Interesting," Vader mused, leaning back in his seat. The weapon used against him was a latest model, and there were very few licences for such weaponry. They required a special dexterity, since they were very difficult to handle. By their very nature, they were weapons perfect for mercenaries and hired assassins. They allowed you to kill someone from the other side of a house, or ship, thanks to their extendable barrel, that could be as long as necessary, to fit the assassin's needs. The barrel was made of a special alloy of metals and other substances that made it flexible, so it could move through pipes and twisted narrow passages, in search of its target.
A second search revealed that only two members of his crew had a licence for such weapons.
Of course, that didn't mean that either of those two men was responsible. Anyone could have smuggled the assassin on board.
But he trusted his instinct. If he was wrong, that would only delay the culprits' deaths a little bit. No more.
Suddenly, he remembered the upcoming morning meet with his chiefs of staff. Coincidentally, his two suspects were to attend the meet.
Vader's lips twisted into a nasty grin. That was simply perfect.
It was the first time the Dark Lord was late for a meet with his higher rank officers. Darth Vader could be accused of many things, but unpunctuality wasn't one of them.
Within ten minutes, almost everyone was fidgeting.
"He's never late for anything. Do you think that...?" Commander Ralek voiced everyone's thoughts.
"Maybe we should contact him upon some pretext," Captain Kyle suggested.
"And have our windpipes crushed? Count me out," Commander Philos adamantly refused.
"You seem pretty calm, Jaffey," Captain Ozba observed to his silent partner, who watched them with his arms crossed, unperturbed.
Jaffey shrugged.
"I'm doing my duty. I have nothing to fear."
"Everyone in this ship has got something to fear," Ralek pointed out.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Jaffey replied enigmatically.
Five more minutes passed in complete silence and ever-increasing nervousness.
"I have a meet with my subordinates in five minutes," Jaffey announced, starting out for the door, "and I don't intend to be late because my superior officer overslept."
Right then, the doors opened and the Sith Lord entered, advancing toward them in long strides.
"I never oversleep, Commander."
Immediately, the four innocent officers stood at attention, whereas Commander Jaffey froze on the spot, his eyes bulging.
"L-Lord Vader!" he gasped.
"It is no wonder you are so shocked to see me, since you didn't expect to see me at all for the rest of your life. Am I wrong?" Vader walked past the petrified man.
"W-what do you m-mean, m-m-milord?" Jaffey stuttered.
"On my way here, I stopped to search your quarters, and I found something... disquieting," Vader went on as if nothing was the matter. "A receipt for the purchase of a KDF-101."
"KDF-101?" Jaffey swallowed hard.
"Of course, anyone could have planted the receipt there to incriminate you," Vader continued, "but your face is all the proof I need." The Dark Lord raised his hand, signalling to the Security guards behind him. "Take him to the brig."
In a daze and plagued by questions, Jaffey started to follow the guards. How could he miss his shot? According to the weapon's readings, he had hit Vader almost point-blank! And how could he forget about getting rid of the receipt when the weapon itself had ceased to exist hours ago?
That was as far as he could go with his musings before hearing a strange buzzing sound, and feeling a dull, burning pain in his back and chest. He looked down and his eyes opened wide at the sight of the red tip of Vader's lightsaber sticking out from the centre of his chest.
His legs stopped supporting him and he fell to his knees. He could barely turn his head and utter his last words.
"Damn... you."
His dead body collapsed to the floor.
Vader drew back the impaling blade and turned off his lightsaber.
"After you," he countered coldly.
A deadly silence followed the gruesome scene. The four horrified officers did their best to maintain their composure, as the Security guards dragged Commander Jaffey out of the room.
"So," Vader proceeded casually, attaching the lightsaber to his belt and turning to his men, "let us start."
The meet was tense and the fear so thick you could cut it with a knife. Vader was surprised to actually feel uncomfortable, and he was relieved when the awkward meet came to an end.
As he looked out of the massive windows of his ship into the farthest reaches of space, the Sith Lord was in as close to a state of mental turmoil as he had been in four years.
Certainly, he didn't regret killing Jaffey. After all, he had tried to kill him first. He had stopped justifying morally his actions long ago. They were either wise or unwise, either practical or unpractical. The only thing that mattered was the final outcome.
Not even during his years as a Jedi, defending the Old Republic, had he regretted killing someone when it was necessary, and his fellow Jedi didn't hesitate either to terminate a life when push came to shove.
Being a Dark Lord only added a different perspective on things. Essentially, he was the same he had always been. He only had a different goal now. If he had to kill one, two, a dozen or a million to get it, he would. It was irrelevant.
Was it?
There is a difference.
Vader cringed at the sound of a voice he had thought muted forever.
There is a difference and you know it.
Vader ground his teeth and looked away from the windows.
Maybe there was a difference, but those considerations were of no consequence anymore. He was too far gone to change. His soul was already forfeit. The only thing that mattered was the here and now, what he got in this realm, because the moment he ceased to exist, the Dark Side would consume his spirit, as it consumed his body, his lifeforce, day by day, year after year.
He only lived to fulfil his ambitions, his thirst for power. There was nothing else for him anymore.
Vader was swept away by an unexpected wave of melancholy. The weight of his losses was a burden that occasionally, still raised its stubborn head.
He felt homesick. But for what, he couldn't tell. He had never belonged anywhere. He had belonged with someone at a certain moment in time. But those days were gone for good.
He was what he was, and he had to admit he had made the most of it. He was a survivor and one day, he would prove that his resilience and constancy had paid off.
Shaking off all the memories and moral disquisitions that led him nowhere, Vader started walking the bridge, paying no attention to the soft gasps and the growing level of tension that permeated the place.
It was boring. Worse than that. Pathetic. He felt like a reek walking among fleas. None of these people were his equals.
Disgusted, Vader left the bridge. It was late enough, so he could as well retire.
On his way to his quarters he stopped by the supplies department, and grabbed a small blanket.
It was very late, and still no sign of the boy. Vader tapped his fingers on his chair, as he checked the time once more.
Finally, he stood up and headed for his sleeping alcove. It was ridiculous for a Sith Lord to be at the whim of a four year old. Wherever he was, he was all right. He could feel it. The child's capacity to take care of himself and go unnoticed in the confined and unfamiliar environment of an Imperial Star Destroyer, truly amazed him.
He opened the pod and for once, didn't wait for it to open all the way to get in. He already had one leg inside when something hit it softly. Drawing it back immediately, he took a look and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw the child sprawled there, looking up at him with a mischievous smile on his face.
Vader stood beside the pod until it opened fully, displaying as dignified a stance as he could manage. The two observed each other in silence.
"You are really strange, boy," Vader said at last.
The child seemed to giggle, and another long pause followed.
"This is my sleeping chamber," the Dark Lord hinted.
The child sat up, but otherwise, he made no attempt to move.
"Which means I sleep in here," Vader felt a most unseemly urge to sigh out loud.
The boy's face broke into a full smile, and obeying the implicit suggestion, he stood up and exited the pod.
Vader stared at the child inquisitively.
"I gave up trying to guess where you hide during the day, but I am most curious to know why you choose to spend the nights with me."
The boy flashed him a blinding smile and shrugged, as if he himself didn't know why he did it. He looked at Vader's pod for a brief moment and turned about, walking up to Vader's big chair in his office. He climbed it and made himself comfortable.
Vader followed him, too puzzled to speak.
The child's eyes turned to him and regarded him openly, unafraid.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" There was no malice in Vader's question. Quite the contrary, the honesty in his own words shocked the Sith Lord.
The boy shrugged again, his face going all soft and calm.
Drawn to the child's soothing aura, Vader squatted down in front of the chair and studied him unashamedly.
'I wish I could see your face without the mask.'
The thought came to him unbidden, and Vader nearly recoiled from it.
The Light around the boy pulsed strongly and started to reach out to him. But just as quickly, as if remembering, it drew back.
Vader's eyes bored into the child's from behind his mask. Their shape was perfect, and the long lashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly as they blinked and returned his stare.
Unquestionably, the boy had light eyes. Liquid water seemed to ripple in them back and forth, like a comforting, rhythmic heartbeat.
'Who are you? Why can't I harm you? Why do you affect me so?' Vader wondered, almost painfully.
The child smiled tenderly, as if reading his mind, and his little hand reached out, lingering a few centimetres away from his mask, as if reassuring him that he meant no harm.
'You wield the Force like a shield around you. You are the Light personified. I should destroy you and yet...' Vader's eyes roamed the beautiful face with a hunger and need to know such as he had never experienced before.
The breathtaking smile was irresistible. It called out to him intimately, as if it had always been a part of him.
The little fingers crossed the distance separating them.
He shouldn't feel anything, but the delicate touch of small fingertips on his burned cheek felt devastating in their intensity.
His own gloved hand reached up, and, in awe, Vader watched it getting closer and closer to the boy's cheek in return, until his fingertips brushed the soft face in a light, almost fearful, and awkward caress.
LUKE!
Vader jumped to his feet and turned his back to the boy. His hands clenched into fists as everything crystallized in his mind.
He was projecting his feelings for his unborn child onto that boy. He had been doing it subconsciously since they had first laid eyes on each other. Everything fell into place now. A four year old human boy, light-haired, light-eyed, Force sensitive... How could he haven been so blind?
He stood in the middle of the room, petrified. Ashamed of his weakness, but unable to change the way he felt.
His fists unclenched and the Sith Lord looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head self-deprecatingly.
Soft steps approached him, but Vader was too far away to notice.
Then, a little hand slipped into his, holding onto him like a whisper.
Vader's heart started pounding savagely, as he looked down at the tiny hand in his own. So light, so soft, so warm, so right. As if it belonged there.
He had to stop this before it was too late. There was no place in his life for a child. Those days were gone forever, with her and their baby.
Calling upon the Darkness fiercely, he let go of the little hand in a final gesture.
"I told you not to ask for what I cannot give. You keep on pushing your luck, boy. There is no place for compassion and love in my life. Not now. Not ever. I have a destiny to fulfil, and you are not a part of it. Get it into your thick skull once and for all, and leave me alone." He turned about and faced the child, his boiling anger feeding him the strength he needed. "You understand! Alone!"
The child paled when the onslaught of Vader's hatred and rage washed over him. His face reflected an infinite sadness and his big eyes stared at Vader pleadingly, but at the same time with a dignity that felt strangely out of place for someone so young.
Unable to brave the pain in that lovely countenance, the Sith Lord turned his back to the boy and headed for the safety of his sleeping alcove.
How ironical. He was always the one to walk away. To escape.
He seethed with anger.
It was improper. It was humiliating.
And yet... he ached inside. He felt as if he had just rejected the best part of himself. The remaining, infinitesimal part of himself that still belonged to her and their unborn child, and always would.
He had failed them both by hurting an innocent little boy.
'I have killed hundreds of innocent children before. Why should this one make a difference?'
Innocent.
Innocent!
He just admitted he had murdered innocents!
Vader felt a stabbing pain behind his eyes. A whirlpool of images and memories flashed in his mind. Images and memories that had belonged to another. To another life. But not anymore. The idealistic young man he had been once, burned to death four years ago. He had died and been born again in a crucible of Darkness that had given him a new purpose.
There was no turning back. No turning back from his decisions. From his choices. There was no questioning them, because if he did...
'Damn you. Damn you, boy! What are you doing to me!'
Vader squeezed his eyes shut when the pain increased to a point where he thought his eyeballs would burst.
When he opened them again, he was panting and leaning on the console below the huge screen up the wall, holding in his hands the small blanket and the cuddly toy.
His legs led him back to his office automatically, but he knew the boy wasn't there before seeing it with his own eyes.
The warmth was gone.
Darth Vader let out a blood-curdling scream.
The following day, the Sith Lord walked the bridge like a black ghost. He answered in monosyllables, and seemed more withdrawn into himself than ever. Finally, he assumed his usual position of looking out of the massive windows and didn't move a muscle for hours.
Vader's mind moved in circles helplessly. Concentrating desperately on not thinking about anything at all. But there was no stopping the endless stream of images flashing in his mind, reminding him of past deeds, past values, past feelings, past love.
He bared his teeth. It didn't matter. His anger was strong enough to sustain him.
For now.
'No!' he cried out mentally. 'I am stronger than all the pitiful dreams I harboured once about love, peace and justice. The galaxy is a place filled with petty creatures who only care about themselves and their selfish interests. No one is fully innocent. The Empire rules through fear. Fear is the key. It always was. I was simply too young and naive to see it.'
He straightened up, more certain of himself now.
'I must strengthen my shields around the boy. If I can't prevent him from coming to me, I can prevent his presence from affecting me. He is Light, I am Dark. We cannot meet in the middle. Indeed, there is no middle.'
More hours passed, and the flashes of his former life transformed into more recent memories. A sweet smile that warmed his heart. A small hand touching his covered face. A tiny finger stopping the dart meant to kill him. A pure, selfless love being offered, that expected nothing in return. Except maybe, understanding and respect.
Because he likes you. Because he cares about you. About your life. About your welfare.
The stab of pain returned, right in between his eyes.
A selfless love like no one will ever give you. A love that could free you if you so wish.
No! It couldn't be! He had given up love. He had thrown it away from his life and never looked back. Love had destroyed him. Love was madness, and pain, and betrayal. Especially betrayal.
Love and compassion were useless concepts in the higher scheme of things. He was better off without them. He had enjoyed four years of emotional calm when he had transcended his need for those feelings.
He knew what he wanted. He knew what he wanted to become. He wanted to rule. He wanted to own, to possess...
...He wanted to fill the emptiness the loss of his wife and his child had left behind.
And the more power he gained, the more empty he was.
He was hollow inside. He was alone.
He had nothing.
He was nothing.
Vader sat at his desk, clutching in his hands the little cuddly toy. Reading the two words on its top time and again, but not seeing them anymore.
The Dark Lord was weary. Emotionally exhausted.
After hours of frantic soul-searching, he had finally reached one conclusion.
The only sane, logical conclusion.
The boy held the answer to this situation.
The Force had decreed for them to meet. And there had to be a reason for it. A reason for his inability to get rid of the child and think rationally in his presence.
Tonight, he would have that answer.
Around midnight, Vader had a bad feeling. Hoping to be wrong, he leaned back in his chair and summoned up his patience. But the subtle twinge of an almost forgotten feeling began to insinuate itself from deep within.
Hours later, the sharp pain made Vader's breathing hitch, as it became evident that the boy wasn't coming.
Can you blame him? You told him most explicitly to leave you alone.
'I told him before and he never listened.'
You never hurt him this deeply before.
Vader looked away, forced to admit the truth. He had caused too great a harm to be dismissed this time.
A pair of breathtaking light eyes appeared in his mind, looking up at him, begging for understanding.
And he had rejected them with an uncalled-for cruelty. He had denied the person who had saved his life. The only person in the galaxy who would do such a thing, from their heart.
Because the child truly believed his life was precious.
For the first time, Vader's anger failed him. A black hole of nothingness wrapped itself around his soul and sucked it dry.
He was a prisoner of the destiny he had carved out. A slave of his own passions and dark emotions.
You've got exactly what you've been striving for for the last four years. Live with it.
Vader stayed awake all night, sitting still on his chair, the cuddly toy in his hands, a bitter reminder of what he almost had, and lost, before even knowing how illuminating and worthwhile it could be.
The next day, Vader placed an almost physical barrier between himself and his subordinates. They could almost feel the force throwing them back when they approached the Dark Lord with some bit of information or piece of news.
All of them knew what that meant.
Someone would die today.
Fear was something really peculiar. It paralyzed most people, leaving them vulnerable to an attack. In others, the strongest of all, it worked as a stimulant, encouraging them to fight and conquer it. But, as with most things, it also had a downside. If prolongued in time, people got used to it. They resigned themselves to it, and it lost all effect.
That was what a state of constant fear had done to the crew of the Executor. They just accepted the death of one - or more - of them, as inevitable. They had surrendered themselves to that fact. Indeed, what else could they do? None of them was in the position of facing and defeating a Sith Lord. Those who had tried, like Jaffey, always failed.
It would happen any moment, over the smallest issue.
But Vader didn't move from the windows, just like the day before. He looked out of them as if looking for something. Apart, as he always was. But there was something different about him this time. No one could put their finger on it, but it was there. Most definitely, it was there.
No one died that day.
As he did the night before, Vader waited until well past midnight, holding the toy in a tight grip.
When it became obvious that the boy wasn't coming tonight either, Vader knew it was over.
Rising to his feet, the Dark Lord headed for his sleeping chamber and opened it. He was so weary that his legs felt as heavy as lead. He couldn't wait to find merciful oblivion in sleep. He wanted to forget the last week had ever happened. He wanted to erase it from his mind.
The pod seemed to take forever to open. When it finally did, Vader froze.
The warmth was back. Right there, in the back of his mind. Soothing, calming.
The Sith Lord burst into his office, all weariness instantly forgotten.
The boy stood in the middle of the room. Serious. Withdrawn. Close-faced.
Child and Sith Lord stared at each other for an eternity. Vader almost fidgeted under the disdainful, cold look in the light eyes.
Finally, the boy reached out, pointing at Vader's hands.
Blinking, Vader looked down at the cuddly toy, and realized that was what the boy wanted. What he had come to get back.
The child was the first to move and he walked up to the Dark Lord, who suddenly remembered how to use his legs and met the boy halfway, handing him his toy.
The child grabbed it, met Vader's eyes with a chilling look, and turned his back on him.
So this is what it feels like to kill innocence. Congratulations. It only took you six nights.
The boy began to walk away.
"Wait!" Vader's voice echoed in the room.
The child stopped, but didn't deign to face him.
Vader took a hesitant step forward.
"I-I had no right to treat you the way I did. You saved my life, and I owe you some respect and consideration." Vader winced at the words that were leaving his mouth, but they were coming out of their own volition. His brain had nothing to do with it.
The boy turned about and looked at him. He raised an ironical eyebrow, obviously unsatisfied with his explanation.
Vader paused, knowing what the boy wanted from him, but unsure if he could give it to him. Not knowing if he still had it in him. Because he knew the child wouldn't accept it if he didn't mean it, if he didn't say it from his heart.
'What heart?'
Then, he saw it. A flicker of need and vulnerability in those liquid eyes.
And to those, Vader responded before knowing he had done it.
"I apologize. You can stay here. If you so wish."
A strange, bitter taste rose in Vader's throat. He swallowed hard, a slight tremor running up and down his spine.
The boy's eyes bored into his.
Vader struggled not to block the child's probing. Maybe it was better this way. Let him see what he really was. That way, he would leave of his own free will.
Vader held his ground, even though the boy's eyes seemed to burn a path down to his very soul. And when he thought he could stand it no longer, the child's face softened into an angelic smile that embraced Vader whole.
The boy walked up to the Sith Lord again, holding the toy to his chest, as if thanking him for taking such good care of it in his absence.
Vader was in shock after that devastating smile. He blinked in confusion, not knowing how to react. At last, seeing the uncomfortable angle the child was craning his neck to look up at him, he dropped to one knee, putting himself at eye level with him.
The boy couldn't seem to get enough of looking at him. He smiled non-stop, until, out of the blue, he bent forward and planted a kiss on the upper angle of the triangular grid that covered his mouth.
Vader had no time to move back. Instead, he felt the wet touch of soft lips pecking him on the tip of his nose.
The Dark Lord closed his eyes momentarily against the tingling sensation that spread from his nose to every corner of his being. He didn't know there still was any sensitivity left in a body whose every nerve ending had succumbed to the fire that had burnt his flesh to a crisp.
The boy turned around, trotted happily up to Vader's chair and jumped onto it. He curled up there and closed his eyes with a soft sigh, tucking the toy safely under his chin.
Snapping out of his trance, Vader took out the small blanket he had put away in a drawer, and approached his chair. Unfolding it, he covered the child with it clumsily.
The big eyes opened and gazed at him adoringly. The boy shone with gratitude and happiness.
And trust.
Trust in him.
Kneeling down by the side of the chair, Vader did his fair share of staring that earned the child's silent giggle.
Reaching out, Vader turned the sweet face up to his, noticing for the first time the deep dimple the boy had on the chin. He cupped it, feeling the most overwhelming impulse to touch it with his thumb.
And also for the first time, he realized the boy looked paler than usual. He knew the child had very light skin, but there was a slight pallor in that face that had been absent before.
"Are you all right? You seem unusually pale," he asked softly.
The boy flashed him another one of his blinding smiles, that Vader had learned to interpret as a yes.
This child was special even in that. Instead of nodding or shaking his head, he smiled for yes and got serious for no.
The Dark Lord rose to his feet, looking down at the small bundle huddled up in his chair. The striking lightness of his hair stood out, framed against the black leather of his seat.
Unable to help himself, his fingertips brushed the silky hair on the top of the boy's head in a feather-light caress.
Taking a grip on his dignity, Vader turned about and headed for his sleeping pod, swearing he had heard a soft purr behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED...