Title: Vader's Quest Chronicles
Summary: Darth Vader learns that he has a son and the search begins
Chapter 8
Timeframe: Beginning between ROTS and ANH
Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.
As the Tie fighter continued to spin, out of control, Vader alternately muttered curses and prayers. Finally he achieved a modicum of control -- at least, he had stopped the dizzy spiraling. He calmly assessed his options: Sit here and let himself be captured by the Rebels -- not an enticing prospect, as they would probably prefer him dead, rather than alive -- or try to make some sort of limping progress out of the system; without a hyper-drive it would be agonizingly slow. His third option was to hope that an Empire ship would soon pick up his distress beacon. Although he would at this point accept aid from smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters, anyone --including Rebels not bent on his immediate demise. His Tie fighter was small, cramped, and without any amenities of food, water, or extra oxygen. Without a rescue, fairly soon, his diet was going to become extremely restricted and his air supply nonexistent. To be blunt, he was looking a little too closely into the eyes of Death, but at least this time they weren't reflecting the blood red of burning lava... No, this time, Death's eyes were cold and black and fathomless...
Resolving to make the best of a really bad situation, Vader made sure that his minimal life support system was still functioning, that the beacon was broadcasting its distress signal, and that he was moving, albeit slowly. Thus assured, he closed his eyes to meditate and doze.
Well, Anakin, you've really done it this time! How do you get yourself into these situations?
Vader opened his eyes. He heard Obi-Wan's voice in his mind, saw his faint hazy image outside. Obi-Wan. If you can't help me, go away! And you used to get into some bad situations yourself -- like that business on Cato Neimoidia...
Anakin, you promised you would never mention that again! Besides, we agreed that it doesn't count!
If I remember rightly, my old Master, I got you out of that one. So you owe me. Can't you do anything to help? Get into someone's mind? Let someone -- anyone! -- know that I'm out here! Please? And soon. Otherwise, I'm going to die out here. And Obi- Wan, try to remember that I'm Vader now...
The hazy image smiled and nodded, gave a short salute, and disappeared.
Vader sighed. Hunger growled within him, thirst had already stuffed his mouth with cotton; the depleting oxygen constricted his breathing and threatened an asthma attack. He stared out at the empty void. A nap would be preferable to this. In resignation, he closed his eyes again.
Well, my angel, my love, I may be joining you, a lot sooner than I expected. Although he half expected to feel something of his wife's spirit, there was nothing. Oh well, he thought, maybe I don't deserve to sense her spirit. She was an angel, beautiful, kind, lovingAnd 1... I was an arrogant know-it-all bantha's ass who refused to hear the truth. I am so sorry, Beloved. Perhaps, if I couId do it all over... Vader let himself fall asleep. He dreamt of space angels who looked like his wife, smelled like the wildflowers of Naboo, and laughed with the tinkling sound of wind chimes in a summer breeze.
The tinkling laughter segued into the harsh braying of Sidious and then to the infernal clanging of alarms as Vader started awake. What the...? He tried to look around. Curse this helmet and mask! I can't see above or behind, but I sense something... Steady movement upward began and then he saw the ship overhead. He didn't recognize the model or markings, but a rescue was a rescue. And if his rescuers were unfriendly, a bit of Sith mind control should ease the hostilities. Vader sat back to await developments, as a tractor beam pulled him in. Perhaps this wasn't his day to die after all.
Vader's new acquaintances were appropriately impressed that they had rescued the infamous Darth Vader. No doubt, it would become the stuff of legends -- the sole survivor (if you discounted the Rebels) of the cataclysmic explosion of the Empire's ultimate weapon. Vader grimaced to himself. In one incarnation or another, he was beginning to have a starring role in far too many legends for the comfort of even his enormous ego.
No shower, no soap, not even any deodorant. These pirates were barbarians! Vader downed still another glassful of some sort of beverage. Nonalcoholic, Force be praised, but of undetermined origin. Vader thought that perhaps he would rather not be enlightened -- it was wet and eased his still raging thirst. He glanced down at the platter in front of him -- steamy hot vegetables and a large hunk of chewy bread. Suspicious of its origins, he had firmly refused the proffered meat. He thought he would rather remain vegetarian for the short time he'd be among his rescuers... cannibalism seemed a likely possibility, and the thought turned his stomach.
At least they didn't mind looking at his scarred face and bald head -- most of these pirates looked far worse with plasma bums and missing digits rampant among them. Vader took a bite and chewed. If only they had bathing facilities But they had laughed uproariously at the suggestion. Rank body odor permeated the entire ship; even the filtration system which recirculated its atmosphere wasn't up to the task. Trying not to breathe too deeply, Vader ate rapidly, then resumed his mask and respirator. The odor remained detectable, but became almost bearable. However, it was going to be a long few days before they reached a system where they could part company.
Darth Sidious pondered his senses. Lord Vader was alive -- he could sense that much. But the whereabouts of his apprentice remained a mystery. And that disturbed the Sith Master. Why couldn't he locate Vader? Certainly, he wasn't losing his powers...was he? Sidious firmly dismissed the faint uneasiness, the ripple of fear within himself. He was still more powerful than anyone in the Galaxy! Well, except for Vader, if he were allowed his full potential-- which Sidious was careful not to do. And that young son of Skywalker -- his powers were rapidly developing; they would easily soon surpass the father. But where was Vader? He let his fears and frustrations surface in angry petulance, harassing his bodyguards and companions, seeking solace in too many glasses of vintage wine. What was the problem? Why, he'd sensed Vader's danger on Mustafar almost before Vader himself had actually faced it! So why could he not get a sense of Vader's location? He brooded and sipped from his glass.
Despite his olfactory distress and the continued feeling of desperately needing a shower, Vader was enjoying himself immensely. First of all, there was no comlink to old Palpy. Second, he was relatively safe, although among what were assuredly ruthless pirates; he had hinted at rewards for his rescue -- for once, he intended to carry through on a promise given under duress, as he was very grateful for being saved from certain and uncomfortably slow death in the cold vastness of space. While he didn't think being blown to bits, as Tarkin had been, was exactly comfortable, it hadn't been slow. Wil had probably never even known what happened, not to himself, not to the Death Star. Just pffttt! and he was gone. Whereas what Vader had faced --! He shuddered in memory. He could certainly handle a little discomfort now!
He entertained his hosts with rousing tales of his own nefarious deeds as a Sith lord and with scurrilous characterizations of the Emperor. As long as he kept to the bread and the vegetables, the food was hot and plentiful, and the mystery beverage free-flowing. He was warm, safe, well fed, and rehydrated. He masked his Force presence by refraining from casual use -- might as well keep old Palpy off-balance for awhile --let him feel Vader's life-force, but not enough to sense his location. It gave Vader a delicious sense of power over the tyrannical old sarlacc's spawn.
As all things must, Vader's isolation from the Empire ended. He and his new friends parted company on a small Outer Rim world with tenuous ties to the Empire. Prototype or not, Vader let them keep the Tie fighter -- he'd tell Palpy' that he had crashed in it -- and arranged payment of substantial credits from his personal accounts. Amid a few hearty backslaps and much raucous laughter, Vader said good-bye. Then he sought plentiful soap and water and clean clothing to replace the filthy things he wore.
As the much-feared right hand to the Emperor, Vader had no trouble finding suitable accommodations. He suspected that someone had been evicted to provide space, but didn't really care. There was a bed, plenty of soap and hot water, and, miracle of miracles, access to clean new appropriate clothing. He stripped off his offending apparel and, armed with the soap, stepped under the spray of the shower.. He closed his eyes and smiled in real pleasure as the stinging spray of steamy hot water hit him. Aaaah, clean again, at last.
Many long and enjoyable minutes later, he left the shower, stretched and yawned. The bed beckoned -- his Master could just remain in ignorance for awhile longer; Vader wanted a good long nap, without worrying that an overly zealous pirate would slit his throat while he slept. A smile of satisfaction on his face, Vader lay down and immediately fell asleep.
When he awakened, he knew he had dreamed something pleasant, but the tenuous memory slipped rapidly away. He stretched in languorous pleasure and looked around the room. Not bad. He smiled and resolved to play truant a bit longer -- although that credit transfer might sink his plans, if Palpy learned of the transaction too soon. But it was worth a chance. He stood up, crossed to the room service terminal and ordered a substantial breakfast.
The meal arrived shortly, delivered not by the expected droid, but by a nubile young woman, who apparently thought that her... personal... service was a part of the room service order. What in blazes buttons did I press to convey that impression? Or is it SOP with the deluxe breakfast? She didn't seem to understand that she was unwelcome in Vader's room, but smiled coyly and began sauntering suggestively across the room, discarding her clothing and writhing her hips provocatively. She slowly unfastened her top, releasing a pair of enormous breasts.
Feeling suddenly warm -- something must be wrong with the room's temperature controls --Vader stared a moment, then sat and buried his face in his hands. Nooooo! I have to stop her, but howshort of hurting her...? He glanced up just as the final articles of her clothing followed her blouse, and he was confronted with a totally naked woman, slinking toward him, her intentions obvious. He gulped. If Palpy learned about this, there really would be repercussions! If an idle, joking reference could cause trouble, the outcome from this situation boggled his imagination! Aha! A little Sith mind control... that's it!
He passed a hand through the air. "You really don't want to do this."
"I really don't want to do this." She obediently repeated his words and slowed her steps.
"You want to take your clothes and leave this room..."
"I want to take my clothes and leave this room..." She began to gather her things, then turned, still naked, toward the door.
Vader had a sudden thought and made another quick hand pass, as he suggested, "... But you want to get dressed first."
"I want to get dressed first..." She donned her skimpy garments and left Vader's room.
As the door closed behind her, Vader sighed in relief. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Oh bantha spit! No wonder she didn't believe my protests --I'm totally naked myself! He peered more closely at his reflection, then, as he noticed something else -- a not-so-small involuntary response to the proffered feminine charms. So Palpy lied to me about that, too! No wonder he worries so much about little Vaders littering the Galaxy! Apparently I am still able, even if I don't reaI1y desire anyone but Padme. Interesting... He abruptly turned to the refresher -- he needed another shower, a cold one this time. And then he planned to eat that breakfast, whether it had gotten cold or not, he was hungry!
Wanting to avoid a repetition of the embarrassing breakfast incident, Vader vowed to order all future meals in person. But then, if he had to dress and go out, the Emperor would soon trace his whereabouts. He sighed in resignation. As much as he wanted to play truant, he had better make contact and rejoin his crew aboard the Star Destroyer, assuming that it had been far enough from the Death Star to avoid annihilation. He successfully contacted the Executor which dispatched the requested transportation. He then sent a message to Coruscant, apprising Palpatine of his safety and promising to report in person as soon as possible. And then, it would be business as usual. Only with no Death Star and no Tarkin, there would be differences in the usual business.
And he still had to locate his elusive son. That boy was more slippery than snake's slime! He and his Rebel friends couldn't hide forever, not from someone as powerful with the Force as Darth Vader. He could feel it -- their paths would cross again -- and next time... Meanwhile, he lived in a real world; it was time to get back to it. Vader found a med-tech journal to pass the time until his shuttle arrived. He certainly didn't want to read Galactic Man's World or Gorgeous Girls of the Galaxy -- he'd had quite enough of strange naked women for one day!