I return to my cell in silence, feeling utterly depressed. Seeing Padmé's sister was an unexpected turn of events, and it has dredged up too many memories. Her shock and undisguised horror at learning of my descent into Darkness has left me full of guilt and regret, feelings I have become all too familiar with lately. Regret is such a bitter thing. For all the powers that I have been endowed with, I am helpless in its wake, powerless to change the past, although I'd give anything to do so.
Lost in my own thoughts, I do not immediately notice that there is but one guard escorting me back to my cell. Only one…how easy it would be to make an escape now! I am so tempted, that for a few moments my entire body tenses, preparing for flight. But then rational thought takes over. What purpose would it serve? Surely any escape attempt in my death, and while my life holds very little value for me, I must consider my son. I know that Luke would be devastated to lose me just as we are beginning to know one another. Luke…the one bright spot in my existence…the living proof that I have not always been a contemptible beast, and, besides his sister, all that I have left of my beloved Padmé… The thought of her sweet face rushes into my mind, and I must fight for composure. The guard, my nemesis, glances at me with contempt.
"Don't even think about trying to run, Vader," he tells me as we reach the detention block.
"I have no intention to do so," I reply quietly, bridling under the use of that hated name.
"Too bad," he replies. "Nothing would give me more pleasure than to shoot you down in your tracks."
"Yes, I'm sure," I mutter, stopping as he deactivates the blast door. The hatred he feels for me is pungent, powerful, and it swirls around fiercely in his mind.
"For what it's worth," I say to his back. "I'm sorry about your brother."
His body tenses visibly, and I sense his anger increase a degree. He says nothing in reply, but merely watches me as I enter the cell. I turn to him, watching him carefully, knowing that I must somehow reach this man if I am to endure my incarceration.
"I too know the pain of losing a loved one," I add.
He looks at me now, his eyes narrowed in hatred. "Now that's a good one, Vader," he tells me. "What would you know about such a thing? I highly doubt you've ever loved anyone in your entire miserable life!"
I frown, fighting to control the anger that I feel bubbling up inside of me. He may hate me, even with justification; but how dare he insinuate that I have never loved! All that has happened to me, my fall from grace, has been for love. For the love of Her…
"Think what you will of Darth Vader," I tell him, my words measured carefully. "But never imply that again. I have sacrificed much in my life for those I love."
He looks at me, seeing the barely sheathed anger in my eyes, and for a brief moment I see fear in his eyes. Then he sneers at me again, taunting me yet further.
"You think I give a damn about you or your life?" he spits. "I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you killed your own mother, Vader. Seems like something you'd take p.."
He doesn't finish his sentence. I snap, the fury in me flooding me entirely. I use the Force to slam him against the wall, and he hits it with a loud thud, his blaster flying out of his hand onto the metal floor. I use the Force to bring it to my hand, and with lightening speed, point it between his eyes.
"That was a mistake," I tell him, my face mere inches from his, my hand resting on the wall beside his head. He is utterly terrified; I see it in his eyes, I feel the fear rolling off of him in great crashing waves.
"Go on and do it," he tells me, managing his fear with great difficulty. He is certainly accustomed to dealing with dangerous criminals, but I highly doubt he has ever tangled with a Jedi before. "Your life won't be worth wookiee shit if you do!"
I stare into his eyes, fighting the temptation to blast him to Hell. But that is the way of Darkness, a Darkness that I have rejected. How easily the anger still flows, though! It scares me how quickly the hatred fills me. I back off, dropping the blaster. Needa does not move for a moment, and the only sound heard is the sound of our breathing. He is confused, not sure what to do. Am I tricking him? Will I take the blaster again, or perhaps just use the Force to kill him? Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves away from the wall. He is in pain, no doubt having seriously bruised himself in the impact against the wall. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like I'm a dangerous animal. He bends down and picks up the blaster, training it squarely on my chest. He says nothing to me, but activates his COM link, calling for back up. I watch him as he backs away from me, towards the door. The sound of boots running on the metal floor in the corridor outside is heard as back up arrives. They activate the door and the force field is lifted to allow them entry.
"What's going on?" asks the guard who enters first. I see that my 'nephew' is among the group.
"The bastard tried to kill me!" replies Needa, pointing at me with his blaster. "Knocked me against the wall and took my blaster!"
The guard looks back at me. By now I have calmed down, thanks to the Force, and am standing with my hands behind my back, the picture of tranquility.
"Is that so?" asks the leader of the group. "Was he provoked?"
Needa's cheek twitches imperceptibly. "Not at all," he lies. "I was just bringing him back from seeing his visitor." I look at him, my eyes cold with barely restrained hatred.
"Is that true, Skywalker?" the leader asks me.
"Most of it," I reply calmly.
"Most of it?" retorts the guard, a scowl forming on his face. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that I did throw him against the wall," I reply, my eyes meeting his. "But it was not an unprovoked attack," I add, turning my gaze to Needa. He looks away, unable to face me.
"Yeah, just what I thought," mutters the guard. "Let's go, boys," he says, turning to leave. He shoots Needa a significant look, and then the group leaves.
Needa turns to follow, and then turns back to me. "Don't think that because you didn't have the balls to kill me that this is over between us, Vader," he tells me in a low voice. I say nothing, my eyes not leaving his, until he turns to leave. After he has gone out of sight, I sit down heavily on the hard bench that is my bed, run my hands through my now shaggy hair. Again I think, if only Sidious had killed me …if only…
"Myformer Padawan, you must not give in to despair this way."
I look up to see Qui-Gon standing before me.
"I try not to, Master," I reply wearily. "But it seems hopeless. Everything seems so pointless."
"Everything?" he replies, his eyebrows raised slightly. "You are forgetting something, Anakin. You are the Chosen One," he reminds me.
"Am I?" I ask. "Sometimes I have to wonder, Master Qui-Gon. Would the Chosen One have spent half of his life bent on wanton destruction? Woud the Chosen One have killed as many souls as I have? It seems wrong, Qui-Gon. How can I be the Chosen One if I have spent half my life in utter Darkness?"
Qui-Gon smiles at me. "You destroyed the Sith, Anakin. Or have you forgotten that?"
I look down. "Forget? How could I forget? My son nearly died because of Sidious."
"But he didn't die because you sacrificed yourself to save him," he replies.
"Yes, I did. I would rather die than let my son be killed by that monster," I tell him. "But does that one act make up for a lifetime of evil?" I ask, looking back up at him.
"I can't say, Anakin," he admits. "All I can say is that without having spent the past 20 years in Darkness, you may not have been able to destroy Sidious."
I look at him quizzically. "I don't understand, Master," I admit.
"Perhaps part of being the Chosen One means spending time in Darkness," he replies, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps in order to destroy the Sith you needed to be a Sith yourself, and that part of the burden of being the Chosen One is to endure the Darkness in order to destroy it."
Burden…that is a fitting term…
"Is that what you truly believe, Master?" I ask him.
Qui-Gon nods. "Yes, Anakin, it is."
I sigh, and look down at my boots. "Then why do I feel this way?" I ask him softly. "Why do I feel as though I am not worthy to live? Is that part of the Prophecy too?"
"You are feeling guilt, Anakin," he tells me. "Guilt and remorse. You are human; it is only natural that you'd feel that way."
"Then I will never know peace," I say, my throat constricting.
Qui-Gon smiles again. "You will when you've found it in you heart to forgive yourself," he tells me. "You must, Ani, or you will spend the rest of your days in misery."
"But how can I do that?" I ask him. "I am responsible for the death of my wife; I tortured my own daughter, maimed my son…"
Qui-Gon puts him his hand to stop me from continuing.
"Your son loves you, and had already forgiven you," he reminds me. "In time your daughter will as well."
"And Padmé?" I ask softly, the tears filling my eyes. "Nothing can bring her back. Nothing can change what I did to her."
"She forgave you, Anakin," he tells me. "Or have you forgotten the vision you had of her on Coruscant?"
I shake my head. "That was nothing more than a beautiful dream, Qui-Gon, created by my need for her forgiveness... She is gone, and I will never have her forgiveness, never have the peace it would bring."
Qui-Gon makes no reply, for there is nothing he can say. She is gone, and no amount of regret or atonement can bring her back to me.
The sound of the blast door opening is heard, and I look up. "It's Luke," I say, feeling his Force presence strongly. My son enters the room, and immediately notices that I am not alone.
"It is good to finally meet you, young Luke," says Qui-Gon with a smile. "I am Qui-Gon Jinn."
Luke's eyes widen slightly. "You were my father's first master," he says.
Qui-Gon nods. "Yes, I was, and the first to recognize him as the Chosen One; something he has been doubting lately," he adds, looking back at me.
Luke looks at me too. "Really?" he asks. "Why is that?"
I simply look at my son, tired of discussing this subject.
"Your father needs to forgive himself, Luke," Qui-Gon tells him, still looking at me. "He must put the past behind him and fulfill his destiny as the Chosen One. You and he must rebuild the Jedi Order, Luke. That is the destiny that awaits you both."
I can tell by my son's reaction that he is pleased with Qui-Gon's words. He looks at me with a smile.
"That would be like a dream come true," he says softly.
I smile. "It would," I concur. "But there is a small matter of my trial that you are both forgetting. I may not live to fulfill this destiny you are so determined is mine, Qui-Gon. They may very well execute me for the crimes I committed as Darth Vader."
Luke's face falls as I remind him of this sober fact.
"It will not come to that," Qui-Gon states confidently. "I have foreseen it, Ani. You will not be executed."
I frown, not wishing to give in to the hope that his words elicit in my heart. "I'm sorry, Master," I tell him. "But I find that hard to believe. The galaxy hates me, with good reason. I deserve punishment for all that I've done."
"But you're not Darth Vader any longer!" cries Luke. "Surely they will see that! Surely the fact that you killed the emperor will prove it!"
"Your son is right, Anakin," puts in Qui-Gon. "Yes, Darth Vader committed monstrous acts against the galaxy; but Anakin Skywalker is a hero. He saved the galaxy more than once. Weighed against one another, I think they will find that the good in you outweighs the evil of your past."
I sigh deeply, and run my hands through my hair. "I wish I could believe it," I say quietly. "I…"
My words are interrupted by the entry of a small group of guards into my cell. Needa is among them.
I stand up to face them. "What is going on?" I ask suspiciously, sensing the tension in the men before me.
"You are being moved," the first guard tells me, aiming his weapon at me.
"Why are you moving my father?" asks Luke immediately, no doubt sensing the same trouble that I do.
"He used his sorcerer's powers against a man," replies the guard, not looking at my son. "He needs to be put somewhere with stricter security."
Luke and I look at one another. Qui-Gon's image is somehow unnoticed by the men, or perhaps they are unable to see him because they lack the Force ability to do so; he too has a look of concern on his face. Did you foresee this too, Master?
"What happened?" he asks me.
I look at Needa, who avoids my eyes. "Someone provoked me to violence," I tell him. "I used the Force. It was stupid, I know…but I couldn't help it. You can only take so much abuse before you feel compelled to retaliate," I add, glaring at Needa. Luke turns and looks at my antagonist, knowing that it is he I am referring to.
"You are a dangerous man," continues the guard. "and we are going to make sure that you can't lash out like that again should you be further…provoked," he finishes, saying the final word with a hint of sarcasm.
"What are you going to do to my father?" asks Luke, using the Force to amplify his question.
"He will be restrained," replies the guard at once. "And placed in a room with a ysalarmi," he adds.
My blood runs cold as I process this information. No…not that…In the presence of a ysalarmi my ability to use the Force will be stripped away, leaving me utterly blind, utterly alone.
"What is that?" asks Luke, obviously unaware of the existence of the loathsome creature.
"A ysalarmi is an eel like creature that blocks one's ability to tap into the Force," I tell my son.
Luke's face clearly shows his horror at the thought of such a thing.
"Let's go, Vader," the guard tells me, motioning for me to stand as his three companions train their weapons on me. I am manacled, both my wrists and my ankles. My son watches the guards in silent anguish, torn between his impulse to help me and the reasoning that tells him it would only result in bloodshed.
Qui-Gon watches too, seemingly unperturbed by the turn of events. What does he know that I don't?
I am taken to another part of the detention block, down a narrow flight of stairs, and down and other corridor. The ceiling is lower here, and I must bend lest I hit my head on it. Finally we stop. Luke has followed, and I know that he feels my dread, my terror…
"Welcome home, Lord Vader," pronounces the guard sarcastically as they shove me into the dark, cavernous cell. I fall to the floor, unable to block my fall. My cheek makes contact with the concrete floor, it is damp and cold. The moisture from the walls has created a musty, pungent odor in the room, and the thought of spending endless hours in here fills me with dread. Luke rushes to help me up, his emotions barely contained. Part of me is grateful for his warmth and compassion; but another part of me is ashamed for him to see me treated like an animal.
"Get back, Skywalker," orders the guard, addressing Luke.
"He's injured," retorts Luke angrily. "His face is bleeding."
"A little scrape won't kill him," retorts one of the other guards with a smirk. "After all the blood he's shed, he should be willing to shed a little himself," he adds, as the other guards snicker in agreement.
Luke grows angry, I can feel it, and I look at him quickly, warning him silently not to do anything rash. I can see his torment in his eyes, and it adds to my misery.
"Over here, Vader," a guard orders me, pushing me towards the wall. My eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to see a chain attached to the wall. I know now that I can sink no lower.
The guards remove the manacles on my ankles and replace them with the large metal ring on the end of the chain that is attached to the wall. The chain is just long enough for me to reach the cot and the toilet in the corner, but no more.
"Is this really necessary?" asks Luke at last, unable to hold back his anger any longer.
"Yes," replies the guard who is testing the strength of the chain's attachment to the wall. "Your father is a dangerous criminal. I shouldn't have to tell you that, Skywalker."
My hands are released, and I rub at my wrists as another guard enters the room, carrying a small cage. As soon as he does so, I feel as I have been submerged in water. I cannot feel the Force, and it is a terrifying feeling. Luke feels it too, and we exchange an anguished look.
"Father," he whispers, his voice hushed with the unspoken horror he feels.
I nod at him, trying to reassure him; but without the Force, our connection is broken. It is agony not to feel Luke's presence in my mind – ever since I first learned of his existence, even before we met on that fateful day in Cloud City; we have been linked to one another through the Force. His presence in my life has been the bright spot, the only source of joy in my life for so long; and now I can no longer feel him. It is agony!
"It will be alright, Son," I tell him, trying to sound like I believe it. He reaches out to me, and, for the first time, I embrace my son tightly. I close my eyes as the emotions fill me, fighting to control them. I will not let these men see me in despair; I will not give them the satisfaction of knowing how close they are to breaking me…
"Let's go, Skywalker," the guards order. "No visitors in the hole."
"What?" Luke cries, turning and looking at them. "You can't be serious!"
"Afraid so," answers the guard, enjoying the moment immensely. "Out."
Luke looks back at me, tears shrouding his brilliant eyes. "I will get you out of here, Father," he tells me in a low voice. "I swear to you!"
I only nod, not even daring to hope that he will.
I am left then, alone in my cage with the monster that has left me blind to the Force. I stare at it as it too sits in its cage, obvious to the torment it has thrown me into. I walk over to the cot, sit down on it. It creaks under my weight. My eyes survey the surroundings, almost wishing I were unable to see anything in this dank, depressing hole. The presence of the vile beast in my cell is a source of constant pain to me, and I glare in its direction. Surely the Alliance has laws, conventions regarding the treatment of prisoners! I know only too well how the Empire treats its prisoners; somehow I expected more from the rebels. But Naboo's involvement in the Rebellion has always been negligible, and perhaps in the months since the death of Palpatine it has managed to reestablish its sovereignty. The Rebel Alliance would certainly want me dead… I reflect grimly. There would be no measure of mercy in their judgment of me, no matter that I am no longer the monster who persecuted them for two decades….
I close my eyes, lost without the Force to guide me and comfort me in this, my hour of most dire need. Worse, my connection with my son has been severed. Luke…I am lost without you my son…I am blind and stumbling in the dark without your bright and soothing presence in my mind and in my heart…if my captors were endeavoring to find the worst way to punish me, then indeed they have succeeded. I lay back on the cot, which, of course, is too short for my long legs. I cannot ever remember feeling so alone.
