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Chapter 13: DuelA murmur spread through the crowd, and I could not be sure their mood. Wolffe and Rex were uneasy. I wasn't sure about my mood, perhaps calm, resigned, a bit of grief for Leia and Luke's sake.
What was clear was Vader's anger, simmering behind his mask.
Droids began serving refreshments and I collected several juices and small cakes. Some were for them, but I had several of the juices, for energy and hydration.
The twins were getting fussy as I bent over to check on them, they wanted to get out and run around, very soon now. This was far from the quiet of the roof or training halls.
Vader's black cloak appeared in my peripheral vision.
I stood and turned to face him. "I don't think they will be as safe in this crowd. They should go in."
He stiffly nodded, lava flowing in his presence.
"Rex, get them in to Vens, he'll know their schedule. Collect any assistance you need." I nodded toward Vader as I sent warm calm to Leia and Luke. "Send notice as soon as you're secure."
Rex and his partner saluted and moved off quickly.
Vader stalked off to the Emperor's side, after speaking to more troopers and circling the space. I settled into a light meditation off to the side. A pair of Stormtroopers stood a short distance behind me, but I did not know or trust them. None came to speak to me, as if I had some plague, not even a few Senators and officials I had dealt with many times. I sought calm as I observed the ebb and flow of the crowd as I waited for the exhibition with my arms crossed and absently rubbing my bearded chin.
There were a few brief speeches by Admirals and Governors, but few seemed to care.
Vader moved to the center and shouted, "We're about to start. Keep back. Period." His anger still rumbled below the words.
The crowd had thinned slightly, some who were perhaps wiser about the risk they courted. I would be careful, but this was not safe.
At some signal, one of the Admirals, reeking of satisfaction called the start.
I did not salute, and neither did Vader. This was not mutual sparring nor wartime battle with a measure of respect for the duel. This was a show, an entertainment for those uninterested in understanding or respect.
I had not realized my anger about this. Not a growing rage like Vader's, but my disappointment had thin veins of anger. I sent it away, even as I settled into a slightly modified opening stance.
Anger crystal clear and Darkness swirling around him, Vader leaped up for an overhead strike.
Shifting to block and deflect was automatic, this was a common move for his opening. Close enough now, I continued my parry into a cut toward his side as he rolled aside. Before I could shift back to a neutral stance he swung at my legs and I jumped away and turned back to face him.
Aside from the audience, this began to feel like one of our sparring sessions. Back and forth, feints and acrobatics, a rhythm well over a decade in the making.
The fierce youngling, still wary of quantities of water, holding so tightly to the grip, that strain made it weaker. Losing hold, over and over from when the simplest of blocks broke his hold.
Until he finally learned that loosening his grip let him keep his blade… That lesson did not generalize.
The older Padawan, face and braid lengthening, studying each of the common forms, frustration and sometime isolation driving to outbursts. Skill evaporated then, leaving only overconfidence and power, far easier to counter and outlast into defeat.
Greater patience grew after difficult battles, but the outbursts of anger and ego only slowed and deepened into a great lake.
The young knight with proud curls, promoted too soon, too soon for a useless war. Skillful enough to challenge Sith directly, despite the shadow looming overhead. All the little flaws that are usually grown out of before knighting. ...But rush becomes the norm and lessons painfully incomplete.
The finest of his generation, a youth to be proud of who could not fathom what was missing.
But now my lost brother drew on the Dark to power his speed and drive… and how, so very much that anger boiled and grew as we fought. I blocked, parried, and avoided his attacks, riposting when he left an opening. But those had grown fewer over the years and I drew on Ataru to attack as well. We fought, mostly within the cleared area, but planters had been destroyed and decorative plantings smoked. The audience had retreated, but I could feel the petty glee from some.
At least I had one advantage, from their meddling. When Vader rolled away, I made sure his cloak wedged between two wall blocks and it broke his roll as he was halted with a strangled noise.
The patter of some applause rang in the silence, but I did not smile.
Vader roared his fury as he ripped himself away from the cloak and attacked again in a whirlwind of Dark energy.
I went back on defensive, waiting for my next opportunity. When he closed to try to overpower me with sheer strength, the faceless mask was becoming the face of the so called empire: anonymous, emotionless, replaceable, disposable, and of no value to their leaders. They were forgotten even as they fought.
That was the sin of the clone armies, writ larger.
Our light sabers shook as they were locked together for long seconds, the colors reflecting off the shine of the black,
A ghost of warning from the Force, and something hit me in the face. I couldn't see and jumped back and wiped the gooey mess off my face.
Even as I deactivated my saber, Vader straightened and turned to face behind him, his mask falling off into pieces. Waving a hand, that entire section was shoved back against the protective walls and many cried out in pain and nearly went over. "You fools were told to keep back!"
Rarely this angry, an exploding star's worth of rage exploded out through the garden. I asked, "Were you injured, Lord Vader?"
"Yes, was that first blood, Lord Vader?" Palpatine's smile of pleasure was only in his voice. His face looked concerned.
I stepped closer and put a hand on Vader's shoulder to hold him still, long enough to check for injuries. I knew adrenaline made realization slow for him, too. The helmet on the ground had been sliced, but his head uninjured. "He's fine."
The crowd whispered its shock and disbelief, his birth name floating among them as the cameras recorded the interruption in the entertainment.
The Stormtroopers and Red Guard were clearly on alert and spoiling to raze the crowd, but Vader threw out a signal for them to hold. Then he shook my hand off, calming a little.
"Then I see no reason why the demonstration should not continue. I am sure the rebel in the crowd will be rooted out later." The gentle smile on the Emperor's tainted face should have been a warning.
I didn't see the point in resuming.
"So few have had the opportunity to see Masters at play with their toys." Palpatine knew exactly what he was saying.
That reignited Vader's anger as well as his crimson saber. "We will continue."
He saluted this time and I returned it.
The respite had helped, though his rage flowed up and out of him like some wide geyser or hot spring, flowing over the park. He had better hold and control as he pushed me back.
I couldn't keep backing up and the Force warned that acrobatics were riskier. I did not want injuries, but I didn't trust the emotions he was bound to. I decided to close again and recast this, my way.
This time when our blades locked, I let go of my blade and punched him in the face.
A bloody nose should end this farce.
But one of the sabers hit my off arm and pain lit like a bomb. I could not feel enough to know what happened.
"Kix! Get over here, now." Vader roared.