Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles
Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son, and the search begins
Chapter 2
Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH
Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.
After touring the most recent construction areas with the Emperor, Tarkin and Lord Vader talked quietly as they returned to the Command Center.
"You are looking well, my friend," commented Tarkin. "I was concerned for your continued wellbeing. You have taken no harm, I see."
"No," replied Vader. "Mercifully, I did not resort to imbibing. Your ...ah... so thoughtful gift served its intended purpose well. Tarkin, my friend, where did you acquire that foul beverage? Just the thought of it was enough to deter my urge to drink! Phtah!" He could still taste the sulfurous water in his memory.
Tarkin chuckled. "Whatever works. I received it as an attempted bribe from an official seeking Imperial construction contracts -- they consider it of premium value in his system. Needless to say, his ploy failed. I do have more..." Tarkin quirked an eyebrow at Vader, the ghost of a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.
"No, thank you! What I have is quite enough!" He was silent for a moment, then continued. "As you can see, I am still sober and, although murder occasionally seems a suitable solution, the source of my torment still lives. He has a new game. Apparently, I have a son and am encouraged to seek out this apocryphal being so that he may become Sith. At least the feasting seems a thing of the past, for which my digestive system is eternally thankful!" He patted his midsection. "Seriously, Tarkin, would you believe him? Could my son have survived?"
Tarkin pondered a moment. "A son? Not a daughter? Of course, there are rumors, and have been for years, of a child here or there who shows unusual abilities...uncanny perception, superbly exceptional piloting skills, the usual array of pretenders to Jedi talents. Most are easily dismissed..." He let his sentence trail off.
"Most?" Vader inquired. "Not all?"
"There was once talk -- a secret birthing, the mother died; the child adopted; somewhere along the Outer Rim, barely within the Galactic Empire, -- or out of it perhaps. Whispers that the mother was Senator Amidala."
"Droids' gossip, nothing more. Padmé was still with child when she went to her grave. Our friend Palpatine informed me of that fact." Vader's tone was bitter. He reflected on the Emperor's obviously insincere assurances of sympathy at the time. Why had Palpatine so intensely disliked Padmé at the end? But was there a chance that their child... ?
"My friend," Tarkin replied, "you know that droids do not gossip. They even avoid unnecessary conversation. Of course, there was the Amidala Anomaly. The Senator's protocol droid chattered --incessantly!" Tarkin's distaste was evident.
Vader chuckled at the description. Yes, Threepio had 'chattered incessantly'. He had constructed him to be a companion, someone to talk to, and to bear his mother company. The Amidala Anomaly -- a good way to refer to a most singular droid. Whatever had become of Threepio? he wondered idly. Probably scrap somewhere by now. That idea caused a brief pang of sadness --in a way, Threepio was like his own first-born, for a part of himself had gone into the droid's creation. The thought of Threepio triggered something elusive deep within his memories, just beyond his grasp... He left it for later, and dismissed Threepio and his fate from his mind.
They had reached the Command Center. Vader's comlink chirped. Vader paused and turned to Tarkin. "I must answer this immediately... or my life will be hell for the rest of the day. Thank you, Tarkin. Good day." A brief inclination of his head and Vader strode rapidly away to answer his Master's summons.
Like a dog, he fumed. Just call me Bark Vader ... yes, my Master ... no, Master ... as you wish. my Master...jumping through hoops like a trained dog. My life is not my own!
Unbidden, Obi-Wan's voice echoed through his mind. You'll always be a slave now...
Get out of my mind, Obi- Wan! Get out! Get out! GET OUT! Vader's anger escalated as he neared the Emperor's chamber. Outside the doors, he attempted to compose himself, but was still seething as he entered. He knelt.
"What is thy bidding, my Master?"
"Arise, my young apprentice, and walk with me. I sense that you are disturbed. Have I distressed you in some way?" His tone was oily and sly, daring Vader to reply in the affirmative.
"No, Master." Though still angry, Vader knew better than to arise to the bait; Hidden behind his mask, he clenched his jaw and tried to calm his surging anger and hatred.
Sensing both, the Emperor gave a satisfied smirk. "Then, Lord Vader, you may escort me to my shuttle. I am now assured that construction of this satellite remains on schedule, and am returning to Coruscant. I leave matters here in the capable hands of Governor Tarkin ... and yourself, of course. See that it continues so!"
Nearing the shuttle, he motioned his bodyguards to draw ahead, then turned to Vader. "I also sense that you wish to search for your son, Lord Vader."
"Yes, Master." Might as well agree; it's his bidding, no doubt ... and it is, for once, actually my own desire.
"As long as you do not neglect your duties to me, I will sanction your search, and will provide you with what information comes my way. Good luck, Lord Vader; I shall look forward to the day when I have another Skywalker for my apprentice." He turned, a black figure amongst the red-clad bodyguards, mounted the ramp, and disappeared into the shuttle. The ramp closed and the shuttle was away.
Staring after it, Vader felt his anger dissipate. Then he laughed. Old Palpy was devious, all right. But whatever his current game was, it was Vader's turn to play. If Palpatine wanted Vader to search for his son, he would do just that. Perhaps his Imperial master's strategy would soon become clear. His mind at work, Vader left the shuttle bay.
Alone in his quarters, Vader settled himself for a session of meditation. However, his mind refused to comply. Instead, he found his thoughts focusing on Threepio -- the Amidala Anomaly. Outwardly, Threepio had resembled any other protocol droid; inwardly, he had been something else entirely. As a boy, he had personally positioned every circuit, every single component within the droid. He had programmed him for conversation, as a companion. If any droid would gossip, Threepio was a prime suspect. But would he have known anything of real value? Where was he that day? On Mustafar? Vader thought he remembered seeing Threepio with Padmé -- she had seemed to take him everywhere with her during those last few weeks.
As he struggled to isolate the memory, the dull ache in his head returned, an undercurrent threatening his concentration. Vader tried to ignore it and concentrated. Yes, there was Padmé accompanied by... Obi-Wan! No! Where were the droids? Obi-Wan was in the ship, descending the ramp, pity and sorrow emanating from his whole being. Fury at Padmé, at the perceived treachery by his beloved, boiling rage, rising, rising... The throb in his head worsened as, in memory, he heard himself scream "Liar!" saw his hand lifting, Padmé's protests cut off, the terror in her eyes...where was Threepio? Where? Yes! There! And as the headache's effects overcame his concentration, he finally saw the droid, he had been there! Vader surrendered to the migraine's power and sought relief in unconsciousness.
"Tarkin, I wish to initiate a records search -- droid disposition and ownership. Specifically, Protocol droids." Vader strode purposefully into Tarkin's office.
"Certainly, my friend. What other parameters to the search? Where, dates, something more to narrow the field from mere millions?" Tarkin's tone was dry, but he moved to the computer terminal as he spoke.
"I am searching for the droid that you so aptly dubbed the Amidala Anomaly -- the only gossipy droid that I've ever known. He was there that day, Tarkin --!"
"On Mustafar? Surely, Vader, his memory has been wiped since then! After all, in two decades, he must certainly have gone through several owners -- if he survives at all!" He looked quizzically at Vader. "However, his designation? Do you have it?"
"Of course, I do! I built him!" Tarkin cast an interested glance at Vader, but said nothing. "C3PO-SKYWALKER/AMIDALA" Vader paced nervously. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "He was my...wedding gift...to her...the only personal possession I had to give."
Letting the records search program run its course, Tarkin turned to Vader with a question. "Wedding gift? But you were Jedi, and Jedi do not marry --"
Vader interrupted fiercely. "This one did! For her, I defied the rules! And look where that has gotten me! She is gone, and I lead a dog's life, in thrall to the Emperor! In fact, a dog has more freedom. A dog is allowed attachment -- love, while I-I--" He broke off and hurled a chair at the wall; his breath rasped harshly.
"Easy, my friend. You'll provoke yourself into an asthma attack. That I do not wish for you!" Tarkin turned to the computer, as it signaled 'search completed'. He frowned. "Strange, Vader. It shows a memory wipe, then nothing. If he still exists, his designation has been changed."
"I must find that droid. Check all C3PO/Protocol transfers from that date! I'll return later!" As Vader went out the doors, he kicked at a mouse droid -- Where did these infernal creatures originate? -- An hour or two of lightsaber drill should serve to calm him. It was hard to think of anything else while concentrating on techtUque, the artistry of coordinated motion. Despite appearances, lightsaber usage was far more than slice and slash. Vader touched his ever-present weapon in anticipation.
Behind him, Tarkin shook his head. He could recognize the probable futility of this search. One droid out of billions? And that droid's memory wiped before it disappeared? It was probably scrap by now, the parts cannibalized to create a new droid... or repair an older one... Thoughtfully, Tarkin entered additional parameters into the computer.
Relaxed and invigorated, Vader joined Tarkin for dinner. He radiated confidence. "Well, my friend, do we have results yet?"
Tarkin allowed a small upturn of his lips, almost a smile. "Yes, I believe so. A most remote possibility, but... Records from the maintenance shop which performed the memory wipe show purchase of another protocol droid, similar model, also a C3PO unit. C3PO-SKYWALKER/AMIDALA never left the shop. However--" and Tarkin's smile widened, "C3PO-ORGANA/ORGANA was purchased by Senator Bail Organa as a gift to his wife upon the adoption of their infant daughter. That droid is now known as C3PO-ORGANA/ ANTILLES and has had its memory wiped at least once more. Captain Antilles is a Star pilot in service to the Organa family, specifically to Princess Leia Organa..."
Vader puzzled the possibilities of the information for a moment. "So you believe this unit is my droid? How?"
A ripple of impatience ran through Tarkin. Could Vader really not see the scheme? It was so crystal clear, so devious... but so very simple. "The droids appeared identical. A memory wipe, a designation plate switched, and your unit leaves as the Organa unit. The original Organa unit remains and becomes parts and scrap. Simple, yet ingenuous."
Vader thought it over; he could see the scheme now that Tarkin had laid it out for him. Yes, he could imagine such a plot being hatched by Obi-Wan, but did Bail Organa know of it? How would it have profited him? And where was his son? Obviously not the Organa child -- no way a boy could be disguised as a girl for twenty years! Particularly one raised in the very public eye as a princess. A fleeting vision of a young Anakin, dressed in female clothing and attempting to behave in a graceful and feminine manner caused him to stifle a laugh.
"No, my friend, I can't see how this would help my search. If this droid is Padmé's protocol droid, two or more memory wipes have totally erased any usable information that he may have held. How do you suppose that Bail Organa figured into the scheme? I can perceive of no gain for him -- he buys a droid, he takes one home" True, he had been Padmé's closest friend and ally within the SenateVader was startled to feel a small twinge of jealousy cross his mind. Strange, after all these years...
Somewhat impatiently, Tarkin answered him. "The child. Vader, the child! He helped to hide the child! Payment for services rendered. I theorize that he himself never actually paid for his droid and that his daughter--"
With a laugh, Vader interrupted. "No, no, my friend, Palpy assures me that I have a son. No way that Princess Leia is a boy -- I've seen her -- pushy and arrogant, but definitely female. My son is elsewhere."
Reluctantly, Tarkin conceded the point, the scheme had been so beautiful in its deviousness, but only if the child were a daughter. The search would have to follow another direction. Though this one had seemed to hold such promise.
Later, finding himself alone, Vader mused to himself. Why was Tarkin so set on the idea of a daughter? Was he looking for a wife at his age? Friends or not, he would never consent to Tarkin's marrying any daughter of his! But, since there was no daughter, it really didn't matter, did it? Still, Tarkin's certainty that it could be a daughter puzzled Vader. What Galactic gossip had he heard to warrant such an idea?
Vader laughed at the absurd notion. Old Palpy would have mentioned a daughter, had there been a girl child. But he had clearly said 'son' when he had given Vader leave to search. So Vader would search for his son, playing Palpatine's latest game. The rules would surely change on the Emperor's slightest whim, as had ever been his habit. But Vader was accustomed to that. In what direction should he next turn his attention? The Outer Rim, yes, but that encompassed uncountable obscure systems. How to narrow the search? Meantime, there was a Rebellion to quell. Perhaps he could use one to aid in the other. He would use whatever came to hand. The ever-present comlink recalled him to his duties. His Master called. Snarling to himself, Vader obeyed.
Imperial spies kept Palpatine informed of Vader's abortive efforts. Mildly amusing; he had himself once suspected Senator Organa of assisting to spirit the child away into obscurity, but no real connection was ever found. Bail Organa was a good Senator, a bit recalcitrant but loyal in the long run. Lately, though, Alderaan was showing definite signs of dissent --influence of the Princess, no doubt. Although she had followed her father into the Imperial Senate, she did not entirely follow his political philosophies. The Emperor resolved to have Bail Organa's daughter watched more closely -- she reminded him entirely too much of a certain willful young Senator from Naboo.
Palpatine sensed Vader's frustrations as he sent the apprentice on increasingly frequent missions to search out the principal Rebel base. Poor Vader, always snapping at the Rebel's heels, he deserved a treat... Perhaps it was time to throw him a bone... The not entirely unintentional comparison of his apprentice to a dog sent Sidious into paroxysms of choking laughter.
Darth Vader was becoming impatient. The fabled Sith patience was not his way, never hadbeen This search for his son was going nowhere. He had followed so many abortive clues... If he had fathered even half of those children, he would have had to have done nothing else during the Clone War! And fully half of the rest were species incompatible with human procreation. No wonder Sidious had ignored them. A few showed definite Force potential, although without training, they would never be of any threat to the Empire. And there was no one left to train them. Or was there? Obi-Wan! Surely he was long-since dead. But, if not, could he even now be secretly training a new Jedi force? The thought crept deep into Vader's mind for later examination.
Vader entered his shuttle and lifted off for another useless foray into suspected Rebel territory. This was getting boring. A few drinks to dull the sense of futility -- no! It has been so long now, I can't! So many failures in my life, this is one personal war that I am winning! Anyway, that vile sulfurous water was the only thing besides regular mineral water that he kept available to himself. And food -- in truth, he no longer really noticed what he ate. Vader brightened. Make that two personal battles! He'd never fit into that smallest suit of body armor, but all the other 'fat suits' had been long since consigned to the trash compactor and were now part of a hunk of garbage jettisoned somewhere in the far reaches of the Galaxy. He admired the slimmer image of himself reflected in a polished surface. Hmmm. I am an impressive image, aren't I? Not bad for my age. Not fat and out of shape at all! My son and I will look splendid together when we rule the Empire!
Over the next few days, thoughts of Obi-Wan continued to pervade his mind. Why? Vader tried to banish thoughts of his old Jedi Master, but was only marginally successful. He did not desire memories of the man, not these memories -- they made his head hurt. Anyway, he knew what must have happened -- Obi-Wan, Padmé, and the droids had all flown away together and left him alone and dying on Mustafar for the Emperor to find. Was there something else? He did not want to call up the deeply buried memories; perhaps that would be the only way...but not yet, not yet.
Lightsaber drills were no longer quite so pleasurable; he continued to hear Obi-Wan's voice in his mind -- destroy the Sith, not join them ... failed you, Anakin... I'm so sorry... get the feeling that you'll be the death of me...
If I ever see you again, Obi-Wan, I most assuredly will be the death of you! Savagely he slashed and thrust, pledging revenge on this friend and mentor who had, at the end, become his enemy, left him maimed and dying on Mustafar...
You were my brother, Anakin I failed you; I failed you...
Slash, parry, thrust, turn. No leaps, not any longer -- bionic legs were not designed for the acrobatics of really first rate proficiency. He had learned to compensate, however, designing a new technical form of lightsaber usage. Momentarily he wished he could demonstrate for Master Yoda, seek that accomplished swordsman's opinion. But Yoda was, like all the other Jedi, gone forever, though an echo of his voice also passed through Vader's mind -- Feel the Force you must; guide your hand it will --. Savagely, Vader slashed at his droid opponent, disabling it and sending its saber flying. He switched off his own weapon and called maintenance to repair the droid.
With mixed emotions -- feeling just a little foolish for venting his fury on the hapless droid, yet with a sense of savage satisfaction -- Vader returned to duty, It was nearly time for Palpy's now daily intrusion, usually with no other apparent purpose than to keep Vader awaiting his summons.
As Vader strode through the corridor, he reflected on his situation. He felt a rebellion beginning to build within himself, could almost feel sympathy for the reasons behind the larger Galactic Rebellion. They both had an opponent in common -- the Emperor. However, unlike the Rebels he sought, Vader still needed him -- unconsciously repeating his own words to Master Windu those many years ago -- I need him, he has the information to aid my search. And when my search is successful and I find my son, I will rise up and destroy him. I will play his games, allow him to humiliate me, to insult me, to keep me a slave to his whims. And then, when his usefulness to me is at an end --pfft! he's gone! And Vader mentally drew an imaginary lightsaber across Palpatine's throat in a gesture of ultimate final rebellion. He smiled to himself and was startled to feel a pleasurable surge of hie; powers as he contemplated violent vengeance upon his tormentor. It felt good! Euphoric! Intoxicating! This was what he had needed -- he wanted more!
The comlink recalled him to his senses. Dutifully, he responded. "Yeah, whaddaya want,--er- Yes, Master, what is your bidding?" Vader hastily curbed his unruly tongue, as an expression of wary suspicion crossed the face of Darth Sidious.
"Lord Vader," he snapped, "are you intoxicated again?" Almost, there was a note of hope in the voice.
Well, I'll be, thought Vader, he's hoping that I am. Tough luck, old boy, not this time, not ever again. I have found a new source of pleasure. However -- "No, Master. I must be over tired."
"Well, get more rest!" Sidious masked his own momentary lapse. "There is a definite disturbance in the Force near your position. What is in that sector?"
Was probably me, Palpy, but let me think. "I'm along the Rim, near Tatooine. Not really much else out here, Master." Vader studied the star map. Tatooine -- ugh. He never wanted to see that planet again -- sand everywhere! Next to molten lava, sand ran a close second as his most intensely disliked natural substance. It got into everything -- eyes, nose, mouth, under one's clothing, into boots --. He suddenly became aware that the Emperor was speaking again.
"--unaccountable small frequent surges in the Force, somewhere in your sector. Check it out Lord Vader, and report your findings to me. I expect results!" His image disappeared.
Whew! thought Vader. I have absolutely no idea what he said just before that. Probably wants a report on these disturbances in the Force. From Tatooine? I am not setting foot on that Force forsaken desert ever again! I'll send some men down to investigate. They know what to look for by now -- we've done it often enough. I will pursue some other lead, one that does not involve my personally setting foot on Tatooine.
What that lead would be, he hadn't a clue.