Title: "Transcend Force"
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: A close prequel to ANH
Summary: Shortly before Episode IV Darth Vader is sent on a mission to the remote planet of Luki IV. Apart from the fact that he just hates such inspections for no reason, it turns out to be a nightmare. + The rise of the Alliance, Vader's hallucinations and premonitions, secrets from the past, and the Force being 'the ultimate bad guy'.
Disclaimer: Star Wars don't belong to me, they belong to George Lucas, i.e.: no profit here for me. I only wish I owned Anakin/Vader! ;)
A/N: Vader is probably the only person from Star Wars here. Others are mine. However, there will be a surprise for the fans of Anakin & Obi-Wan; you just have to wait until the 3d chapter is up. Enjoy! & PLEEEEAAAASE, R&R!
TRANCSEND FORCE
Chapter 1
OFF
Stars collapsed in a blur of speed outside the windows of the giant starship. It swiftly made its way through asteroid fields, heading towards an isolated orange planet on the Outer Rim. It was already visible on the screens. The starship dived out of the hyperspace, control steady, and a massive energy wave shattered its engines.
The eyes of Darth Vader, shielded by impenetrable black lenses, stayed indifferent.
Alone in his quarters, he was already aware of the fact that the ship had broken. Tens of military officers, clad in identical grey uniforms with Imperial chevrons of various ranks, dashed about, to and fro, creating chaos. In his mind, Vader compared them to inhabitants of a damaged ant-hill.
He hated it when he was being sent to remote regions to inspect their technological achievements. It was a job for minor ranks, not the Emperor's right hand! That tiny orange dot on the trace screen was one of the moons of the Luki System, Luki IV. Vader was supposed to watch over the construction of a powerful weapon the planetary specialists had been working on for the better part of the past 10 years. Again, the Dark Lord had to deal with boot-lickers, flattery false followers, arrogant councilors, the kind of scum he passed with a nod – if ever passed at all. The Emperor trusted Vader's judgement against technology; but he trusted his awesome appearance even more. The mere presence of him would speed the progress up immensely. Accustomed to such means of intimidation, Vader held no grudge against these things. He only saw better use of himself in view of the recently begun civil war.
Vader leaned against the back of his seat. All programs of his bizarre life-sustaining suit were running normally. Strange unease bothered him, nevertheless. In times like these his heart as if beat more forcefully if only attempting to prove it had existed yet. Several days to his birthday if he remembered correctly. There used to be times when he doubted he'd ever make it up to forty.
However, age didn't matter. People changed with age, their faces wrinkled, hair grew white, their backs hunched with the load of years left behind and knowledge acquired. All that was virtually meaningless to Darth Vader who had spent almost two decades locked up in his metallic armor.
For Vader his birthday was a chronicle of being a prisoner. Years went by, old scars healed and roughened, but nothing changed on the outside. Plunged into a cold vacuum of anger and heartache, the former Jedi Knight became callous and cruel. Sometimes he managed to convince himself that it pleased him to prove everyone he was so much more than them. But days like his birthday or missions like this one undermined his resolution.
Darth Vader sighed, exasperated, and directed his steps to the bridge. They had already been stranded in the outer space for three hours. He used the time given to meditate and calm his nerves, but he'd had fairly enough. Vader strode towards the two men chatting by the round house, his black train flowing around him. One was a low-ranking officer (Vader didn't even bother to remember his name or number), the other – the Dark Lord's recently assigned aide-de-camp, Val Kerrit. They befriended oddly at the beginning of the voyage. A useful thing, Vader stated, for it seemed that Kerrit had an individual mode for everyone. He had made friends almost with everyone on the starship during a very short period of time. The crew called him 'Everybody's Sweetheart' jokingly.
Vader paused close enough to hear their conversation.
"... a sequel to a heartbreaking space tragedy, 'The Starship Strikes Back'!" the officer chuckled. "I'm telling you, it has already happened before in this square! It's like a magnet for difficult cases like ours! This tin's not gonna make it farther than to Luki. We'll have to take another ship to go back to the Core!"
"I find your lack of faith slightly inappropriate", Darth Vader remarked.
The man turned around at once, very pale, chills of fear coursing through his body. Kerrit looked more reserved. He acknowledged his chief with a stiff bow to which the Dark Lord gave a barely perceptible nod. Then the black mask turned to regard the frightened officer.
"Still, you are right about one thing: if I do not get off this ship as quickly as possible, it would be a tragedy".
"We've contacted the n-nearest outer space repair station", the man stuttered. "The circuits are on the move, but they will r-reach us only in a couple of d-days–".
"Ready my shuttle!" Vader cut him off. He would go to Luki alone if he must only to finish the mission sooner.
Kerrit hastened after his chief in silence, consumed by his thoughts. Vader's mechanical voice brought him back to reality: "I'm going on my own, adjutant. I appreciate your concern, though".
Once in the cockpit of his personal shuttle, Vader relaxed a little. He was finally no longer dependant on those fools. The shuttle glided gracefully through space, led by its pilot's experienced hand. Vader always preferred personal aircrafts to official huge vehicles. That way he was always in control of the situation.
Vader trembled, having sensed an unusual unrest within the Force. It had something to do with that little orange planet. He felt drawn to it. 'This might be curious', he thought the way young Skywalker used to think when they were close to a riddle. Difficult, yet enjoyable to solve.
The shuttle linked up with a landing platform in front of a military building. After a safe docking, Darth Vader emerged from the exit hatch. The square was empty, no sign of a train eager to meet him. He Force-scanned the square only to make sure he was completely abandoned. It pleased him all the more. The train might have gotten tired of waiting, doubtful of that their guest would ever show up.
A two-meters-tall bipedal form clad entirely in black strode forward to the entrance of the base, robes trailing from it like a pair of coal-painted wings. Guards paid close attention to it. Vader had no need to introduce himself; they let him in eagerly, content he had let their fear go unnoticed. Fear always followed footsteps of the Dark Lord. It clung to him like a smoky cloud. Some said, he thrived on it. In truth, Vader took absolutely no pleasure in being a nightmare.
A courteous officer saw him off to the waiting hall. Vader was known to skip formalities in order to proceed straight to business.
"Senior Captain Zabel will be with you shortly", the man said and left the room.
It wasn't long enough before a young girl in a grey Imperial uniform came in and gave Vader a shallow bow. Her ash-brown hair was neatly sleeked and combed in a tight knot at the back of her head. A stocky red-and-white droid moved in after her.
"Lord Vader, it is a great pleasure to meet you", the girl began. "We were beginning to worry. I must apologize for not having sent an escort out. I trust that was a minor inconvenience. I hope the journey was pleasant".
"Very nice, thank you", said Vader. "However, I should like to end this undertaking as soon as possible. Though I assume, captain Zabel has a more important business".
Even though his face had been forever hidden by the black metal breath screen which reflected no changes in his expression, Lord Vader still somehow managed to look especially menacing at the moment. The girl quivered, her huge hazel eyes even wider. Obviously, they shared a moment of misunderstanding. Her cheeks flushed. She saluted and reported rapidly:
"Oh, I believed you have been informed... Senior Captain Sora Zabel at your service!"
'Chaos take this bloody moon!' Vader thought. The Force had fooled him! How had he not anticipated that?
Carefully, he regarded captain Zabel more closely. Apparently, she was very young, probably not even in her twenties yet. She reminded him of someone he used to know. Her features were vivid, beautiful, though not strikingly. Another hairdo would suit her better. Vader imagined that waterfall of hair framing her delicate face.
Captain Zabel kept waiting. Vader raised his head and gestured for her to go on.
She turned out to be a qualified guide. Totally familiar with the work in progress, she filled the inspector in on every lab, every new rocket, every wondrous mechanism being produced on the base.
The firing unit Transcend Force 7. 1 for which he had come caused Vader's admiration. It was an entirely new miracle of science. As a potent mechanic, the Dark Lord fully apprehended it, amazed at how this beauty had come to be without his attentive supervision. As a Sith, he saw it as threat: old ways of the Force were dying out progressively, replaced by contemporary technologies and rational solutions. In the days of the Old Republic both ways co-existed in peace, but now one thing was choking the other as a result of Vader's massive Jedi Purges campaign.
"The Emperor wishes to know why your job is running so slowly", Vader said.
"Well, if the Emperor hadn't ordered an invasion of the planet of Saroone the government of which used to be our financial sponsor, we would have possibly been halfway through the final tests already!" the girl stated irascibly. "Some things actually require money, you know!"
Starting to understand the harshness of her speech, she turned pale, but kept staring at Vader impassively. He could taste her fear. She barely suppressed quivering. Darth Vader stretched out his hand, purely out of interest. How would she react? Was she dignified enough to stand this proudly? His fingers contracted. The girl ran short of breath. But she still met his gaze boldly. She wondered what was there behind those intimidating black lenses.
"How old are you, girl?" Vader asked, feeling very mature all of a sudden. He released her so that she could answer.
"Nineteen", she replied courageously.
"Ten points for your bravery".
He turned to leave. He'd had enough of this tiny orange planet that was so Force-strong and so undefined, that lured him with promising riddles and cut his clairvoyance off abruptly.
Sora stormed into her quarters, furious but relieved. Shaking heavily, she disrupted the iconic perfection of her military hairdo. Her hair fell loose on her shoulders, every bit as wild and unruly as Vader had imagined.
"What does this cracked cyborg think of himself!" she muttered, fuming. "How did he dare do that to me? To the descendant of an old aristocratic family! It's thanks to him and the likes of him that my father had had to retire to this god-forsaken planet, not having a penny to bless himself with!"
"Temper, hon", a voice came from behind her. She smiled wryly at the man dresses in white medical robes. He embraced her tenderly, and she buried her face in the folds of his garments. "So how was it?"
"He almost strangled me! By using those stupid Jedi tricks! This is so humiliating: being nearly killed by neither a man, nor a droid, but something in between!"
Jass chuckled softly. Sora pretended to be stung and pulled away from him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a caressing kiss on her cheekbone.
"Take it easy. It's over, huh? Vader's gone for good, there won't be another inspection for a year at least. Look at the bright side: you survived meeting Darth Vader! It's a rare achievement nowadays. You might, like, get a promotion".
Jass! Exaggerating as always! Sora heartened up, regardless. Her boyfriend, after all was right next to always. Why was she making such a big deal out of it?
She shrugged: "I guess I was lucky to have stayed alive at all". She kissed him deeply.
"Senior Captain Zabel, Commander In Chief is expecting you now", the dynamics thundered. Jass made a happy face. Sora shook her head, smiling uncomfortably: she had a very bad feeling about the upcoming appointment.
"My break's up, anyway", said Jass. "See you later. Good luck!"
Sora smoothed her hair in the elevator and stepped in Commander's reception room. A silvery protocol droid let her in. The door shut quietly behind her, impressing a feeling that she had been cut off from the entire Universe at that instant.
Thor Moriarti, the new Commander In Chief who had assumed the post after her father's death, was a lean humanoid, his papery white skin and his greenish hair the only contrast to a human. He never appealed to Sora, being very restraint and narrow-minded.
She saluted and waited for him to speak.
"Captain Zabel", Moriarti drew out in a creaking voice. "I am very satisfied with your job. Our guest was content. However, we are to count on you again: a very important person is awaiting your assistance right now just there". He motioned towards the private cabin. "His shuttle has been badly damaged. It is your duty to accommodate him and see him through our daily life until the repair is complete".
"My duty is my pleasure", Sora nodded curtly. Moriarti smiled unpleasantly: that was exactly what he wanted to hear.
She opened the door to meet her new 'client'. Blood froze in her veins: the sound of sharp, rhythmic breath announced who he was even before she raised her eyes to see – Darth Vader.