5.unwanted emotions

Darth Vader seethed quietly behind his disguise as he made his way back to his quarters. He glanced at the slim folder and shiny holo-disc in his hand with disgust.

The entire day had gone all wrong. First the incident with his unprepared staff, then being faced with this seemingly over-achieving girl who had, to his dismay, surpassed all of his expectations. As he stalked through the abandoned corridors, his mind was muddled with confusion. To make it worse, he was confused about his confusion.

There was not one specific thing he could pinpoint as the source of his distraction. It was everything about the previous encounter that puzzled him. As a Sith lord, he expected all of his subordinates to serve his every whim and fancy. He used his anger as motivation for his underlings to please him, and found it to be the most effective.

There was one lesson he remembered from his former life as a Jedi knight. It was that to be successful, one had to remove themselves from every non-productive emotion. The Jedi translation of that lesson was different from the way he viewed it as a Sith. A Jedi would consider any emotion a non-productive emotion. To a Sith, only emotions gained from frivolous pursuits, such as love, happiness, compassion & the like, were considered non-productive. Anger on the other hand, was one of most productive tools in his arsenal. Sith's thrived on fear, and Lord Vader took great pride in "encouraging" his underlings with his rage.

Approaching the outer doors to his suite of rooms, Vader realized that he had made it all the way back here without once taking notice of his surroundings, lost in a train of thought that constantly derailed. Moving through the doors to his living room, he hardly noticed the few servants remaining in the room scatter and leave. As he heard his chamber doors close, he turned and glanced around the room. He had somehow forgotten that he had meant to scour his rooms to make sure everything was perfect. He pushed that thought from his mind as he reached out with the force through his rooms to make sure he was alone. Once he was sure that there was not another creature present, he returned to his entry door and activated the locks.

Turning slowly, he made his way up a short set of stairs to the large wooden doors of his bedchamber. Once inside, he entered his spacious fresher and pressed a code into a number pad on the wall. A compartment slid open, revealing a large empty closet-save for a bare, faceless mannequin.

Starting at with his hands, he slid off the thick black gloves he wore, first the one from his left hand, the one of flesh and bone, and then his right hand, the one forged from steel. Gently he laid the gauntlets on the lone shelf, then moved his nimble fingers to the base of his helmet-like mask. His flesh fingers joined his metal ones as they worked their way under the edges, and with a slight twist and click, the stuffy black prison released its hold and slid silently from his head.

A deep breath filled his lungs with the stale ship air. After spending so much time inside that contraption, even the stale, cold, filtered air of this ship was as great to him as a fine Correllian wine. He shoved the mask down over the head of the mannequin with a thud, & and ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. The last few years he had managed to avoid wearing the suit most of the time. He worked from an office in what was once the Galactic Senate Building, now the new headquarters for the Empire, and only wore the disguise for the brief moments each day he was forced to do business outside of his rooms. He had forgotten how exhausting it could get trudging around in that get-up all day long.

Once more his deft fingers went to work on the thick black cloak he wore, sliding it deftly from his shoulders and swinging it over the dummy.

Looking into the mirror, he grimaced at what he saw. It was a face that he hated -one that served as a reminder to his past life. Suppressing the urge to shove his fist through the silvered glass, he moved to his spacious shower and turned on the stream as hot and fast as it would come.

As steam began to fill the room, he quickly shed the rest of his garments and stepped into the burning stream of water that sprayed from the wall. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as the hot water hit his flesh, his skin turning an angry red. Lowering the temperature slightly, the young lord leaned back against the cold tile wall, and languidly slid down to the floor.

Closing his eyes, he tried to figure out why he was so irritated. 'What a strange woman,' he thought sullenly, 'I would try to break her, but she seems to be already broken.' He thought back to that emptiness he felt when he touched her with the force.

Lord Vader began working it all out in his mind. He was angry with the girl for having caught him completely off guard by her complex presentation, as well as surprising him with a vision straight off of Naboo. Why was he angry with her? 'I guess because she acted in a manner opposite from my expectations, and I am rarely wrong with my expectations… I was expecting to be angry… I was looking forward to being angry.' The thoughts flowed from his mind like the steaming water that cascaded down his skin. 'I guess it makes sense that I am angry with her for that. I am angry because she caused me to act in a way I wasn't prepared.' His mind wandered over that point for a moment, finding it strange that she had pleased him, more than he had been in a long time, and he was feeling the need to rip her throat out for it! Instantly, a strange feeling invaded his chest… it was close to disappointment, but it wasn't that. 'It couldn't be,' thought Vader as he realized what he was feeling… anger at himself for wishing her ill will, shame for his ruthless want to destroy her simply because he was shocked that she had done well.

The young sith lord grew more and more uneasy with these new revelations. Hauling himself from the slick shower floor, he refused to think about it anymore, and busied himself with cleaning his body quickly and efficiently. As the fragrant musk soapsuds rinsed from his body he took several calming breaths. Turning off the faucet and wrapping a large black towel around his waist, he stepped from the shower and ran a second towel over his drenched golden locks.

Since his rise to power, Vader had found it harder & harder to find pleasure in anything. People who constantly aimed to please him but failed miserably in their attempts surrounded him. Beyond the incompetence of his subordinates, there was more that failed to bring him gratification. He no longer took pleasure in rich foods and wines. Luxurious accommodations gave him no satisfying comfort. Even beautiful women who were brought to him to use as he wished granted him no solace… as a matter of fact, he now refused all female companionship because he could not stand these gorgeous women who were nothing more than livestock to him. Their only purpose seemed to be sexual pursuits, and he had grown bored of them quickly, he secretly longed to discover at least a fraction of sense or knowledge in these girls.

Standing in front of the vanity mirror, he absentmindedly watched a single drop of water gradually slide down his torso. As it tumbled slowly over his taught stomach, an image popped into his mind from earlier in the day. He seemed to re-live the moment, his stomach making the same tiny leap as Aurren Farr sat down beside him and turned, her knee gently making contact with his leg.

'Fuck,' he thought. 'What the hell is going on with me?'

Drying off the last remnants of water, he left the 'fresher & grabbed a light pair of black sleep pants from his closet & pulled them on. He slid between the cold sheets on the bed & closed his eyes.

'Fuck,' he thought again. He reminded himself of the blight of unnecessary emotions. He could gain nothing from these emotions of shame & pity he felt- not just for the girl & the moment of hatred he felt for her because she had done nothing more than please him- but also for himself. They were unwanted emotions.

As sleep overtook him, he couldn't help linger just a bit longer on Miss Farr.