The boy somehow managed to maintain a pretty good grasp of Basic, even if he refused to speak it. Darth Vader wondered if the boy were incapable of talking, or if the Tusken life had simply been too much for him.
Still, at least such meant he wouldn't say anything insolent to the Emperor...
If the Emperor decided to keep him alive.
Palpatine was unpredictable when it came to matters of life and death. Whenever Darth Vader brought to him—or Palpatine discovered on his own—a powerful and untrained Force sensitive, the Emperor would do one of three things, and, for the life of him, Vader could never tell which one of the three it was going to be.
The Emperor would either demand that the Force-user be killed (as had happened with many unfortunate prospects), be turned into one of his hands (as had happened with the human Mara Jade), or be taken and trained by Vader (as had happened with the Firrerreos Rillao and Hethrir).
Usually, Palpatine's decisions were instantaneous, as if the Dark Side provided him the exact answer he needed at the exact moment he needed it. This time, however, the Emperor peered at the youth for a long time, as if he had mixed feelings about what the Force were telling him.
"Does he have a name?" Palpatine asked at last.
"If he does, my master, he has not told me...He was raised by Tusken Raiders, and, though he now seems to have a fairly good grasp of Basic, he still will not speak." Vader paused for a moment before continuing. "It is to be noted, my master, that I have not even heard him speak the Tusken language." Darth Vader was down on one knee, the youth having copied him rather admirably.
"You may train this one, Lord Vader...However, I would prefer you keep him on Coruscant...If you insist upon giving him piloting lessons," the Emperor's eyes glinted, as he knew Vader far too well, "at least keep him fairly close to Coruscant's atmosphere. I wish to keep a close eye on his progress..." His eyes hardened. "You shall not shirk your duties entirely, however...In fact, I believe I might be able to provide him with some companionship, should he prove unruly when left alone." At this statement, Palpatine let out an eerie cackle. "How old is he?"
Darth Vader inclined his head toward the still youth, who flashed seven images of bantha cubs being born and then an eighth in which the whole process did not occur. Though Vader hid his confusion from his master, he found himself wondering what in space the boy was referencing.
Then a memory sparked of something that he had heard long ago about banthas...
They had cubs around...every two years? So the boy was...fifteen?
"Fifteen Galactic Standard Years of age, I believe, my master," the helmet-clad Sith Lord replied.
"Good," the black-cloaked being whispered.
****
Chinnatah followed Darth Vader out into the endless corridors of the Imperial Palace and then into Vader's large quarters. Once they were inside, the dark man turned to him. "What is it?"
Chinnatah just looked at him as he sat down on the couch. Had he been raised as a human, he would have given Darth Vader a sour look. But Tusken Raiders, whose faces were always covered in rags, never used facial expressions.
"You shall obey the Emperor, young one."
As usual, Chinnatah didn't reply. When he felt Vader press against his mind, seeking a reply, he projected an image into the other's head.
He could sense the brief, startled flicker of what almost seemed to be joy from the dark man before it was quelled.
"So, you want to learn more about machines. Follow me."
****
Vader had made it known many times that his own section of the hangar bay was to be blocked off. He preferred it that way, as it meant he could work on machines without passersby gawking at him. The only technicians in his section tended to be droids, and that was how he preferred it. If there was something wrong which a droid couldn't handle, he could usually fix the problem himself.
"This is a hydrospanner," Vader explained, twisting the noted object around in his hands. He was showing the youth the various tools of a mechanic as he called out their names. He could sense the boy's impatience warring with his eagerness to learn, and he finally decided to try to bring him down a few notches.
"Find out what is wrong with this," the Sith Lord gestured to a TIE fighter he had been neglecting, "and fix it."
Excited at the opportunity to do something useful, the boy got to work.
Vader expected that he would soon be at a loss; after all, he had grown up in a Tusken environment, where good mechanical skills usually consisted of being able to repair projectile rifles. By all rights, the boy should have been lost without instructions.
And so he waited, watching the youth fiddle with this and mess with that and wondering when his assistance was going to be required.
Finally, the boy stilled, looking at Vader with those familiar blue eyes...
Feeling almost as if a rug had been yanked out from under him, the Sith Lord reached out to the Force and flicked the various switches to turn the TIE on...
Instead of the cough he had expected to hear, he heard the familiar purr of machinery warming up. Incredulously, Vader stared through his helmet at the boy, wondering if he were imagining the hint of satisfaction that seemed to be barely perceptible on the youth's face.
It was a fluke, Vader told himself. It had to be.
After surveying the boy through his mask, he instructed, "Follow me," and he walked to a communications console with the child tagging along behind him. He flipped a switch. "Is the simulation center in use for training sessions?" he queried.
"No, milord," came the slightly shaky reply.
"Clear all occupants. I am on my way."
"Yes, Lord Vader."
The Sith Lord looked to the inquisitive boy. "Come."
When at last the pair reached the simulation center, it was deserted, as had been requested. Darth Vader motioned the youth toward one of the machines, which was fashioned in the manner of a TIE cockpit, and he instructed, "Put on the helmet." So there would not be any confusion, Vader also gestured toward the protective helmet. If the boy were ever going to fly a real starfighter, he would have to become accustomed to the headgear.
The youth was eager, quickly donning the helmet with the help of an instructive mental image from Vader and then hopping into the seat when instructed. He looked inquisitively toward Vader for directions. Vader provided him with only a few words, and then the boy got right to work, finding out by trial-and-error. Not that there was that much error—the boy seemed to have Vader's gift with machines.
Beneath his helmet, the Sith Lord frowned. What was that supposed to mean? The boy was talented with machines without much need of guidance, it was true, but why had he compared it to his own skill?
Attempting to clear such extraneous thoughts from his head, Vader tried to focus on the youth, noticing that he had already shot down an impressive amount of Rebel fighters. The machine moaned with simulated pressure as the former Tusken Raider took it through an impressive array of moves that pushed his simulated craft to its limits.
Finally, the simulation was over, the mission accomplished.
"I see I should have set it to a higher level," the Sith Lord said, a hint of amusement in his voice. He toggled with the controls and then stood back. "Now, try it."
His eyes locked on the screen, the boy did as he was told, using the TIE fighter's maneuverability against the high shielding of the simulated X-wings. He bit his lip in concentration, perspiration beading on his forehead.
Darth Vader hid a dark smile under his mask. He could feel the youth subconsciously reaching out to the Force, trying to use its power to help him foresee his opponent's moves. But such an attempt was best in real combat situations, for it was impossible to sense the future actions of enemies in simulated combat.
Finally, the frustrated boy sat back in his chair, the words "Mission Failed" flashing across the screen.
"Do not worry, young one," Vader said. "I did not expect you to win on such a high level with only the limited training you received. In time, however, you will be great."
The youth looked at him with an expression that could have curdled bantha milk. It was obvious to Vader that he was impatient, which, in a way, was beneficial to Vader, as he might be able to use it to his advantage. Impatience could just as easily go against him, however...
"You have proved your skill at understanding language and space combat, but there is one more area I wish to test your skill in."
The boy stared at him.
****
One more area? What else could there be?
This dark man had thrown so many new things at Chinnatah already, and he was exhausted and hungry.
But he would not back down. He raised his chin and sent a questioning probe into the other's mind. He didn't really understand how this image projection thing worked. Was it because the dark man had some strange powers that allowed him to sift through Chinnatah's mind? Or could it be that Chinnatah had some strange power of his own?
Though he had a weird suspicion of the latter, his common sense told him that surely something had to be amiss.
The dark man noted, "We will return to my quarters."
Making the Tusken hand signal of agreement—Chinnatah still could not get used to the strange gestures Vader used—he followed the dark man to his quarters.
"You do not understand how we are able to speak to each other in our minds," Vader noted. "The reason is the Force." After receiving a questioning tingle from Chinnatah, Vader continued, "The Force is an energy field that surrounds us, a power certain beings can control with the proper training...You are one of those rare few who can do so."
Chinnatah stared at him. He was someone special? He who had lived on the verge of becoming an outcast for his entire life?
"I can teach you how to wield that power, young one," Vader said softly.
The former Tusken continued to stare at him.
****
Darth Vader could see that the youth did not believe him. He reached out to the Force and levitated a datapad above the table it had been sitting on. He reached out to the boy mentally, trying to guide his Force sense toward the datapad. He could sense the other's confusion, but at last the Tusken tried 6to follow the Sith Lord's guidance.
The youth's Force-hold on the datapad was rather shaky at first, but at last he seemed to be making some progress. Vader could tell that he was putting all of his concentration into the task, for beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and the hand he held out was quivering.
"That is enough for today," Vader said at last. The datapad lowered to the ground. "We shall retrieve a meal for you. Then you shall rest."
The youth stared at Vader, who wondered absentmindedly if the boy were trying to read his body language. Vader requested that a droid bring a meal to his quarters, and when the food was finally placed before the youth, the Tusken simply stared at it.
Vader felt Impatience beginning to sneak up on him. Then he remembered that the range of food that Tusken Raiders ate on Tatooine was not likely to be very large. Advanced eating utensils wouldn't exactly be widely used either.
Vader began broadcasting a mental image of the adolescent's using eating utensils to cut the nerf steak and place it in his mouth. Tentatively, the youth awkwardly mimicked the mental image, looking surprised at the distinctive taste of the steak. Of course—the boy was probably accustomed to much more bland food, such as Tatooine's hubba gourd.
The Sith Lord felt a strange sense of amusement. One of the most powerful men in the galaxy was teaching a savage how to properly eat a steak. Journalists would have had a field day with such a story...At least, journalists who didn't value their lives.
After giving further instruction on how to eat the rest of the food, Vader simply watched the Tusken eat. He felt a strange feeling vaguely reminiscent of pleasure at the sight of the youth's obvious enjoyment, but he instantly pushed away the sensation. Why was he being so patient with this youth? Why had he not simply killed him back on Tatooine?
Troubled by his thoughts, Vader cleared his mind and tried to observe the youth while remaining emotionless. When the Tusken had finished, Vader stated loudly, "You may rest now."
****
A few minutes later, Chinnatah was resting in a human "bed." There was only time enough to wonder about the strange turn his life had taken before his fatigued body drug his mind into unconsciousness.