The Emperor's Executioner

by Puko6lud

So, this is a book with a somewhat non-standard hit in the body of Darth Vader. The hero will have to take sides, because the Galaxy is on the verge of civil war. And what's more, the Yuuzhan-Vong invasion is coming. But if in the movies it is absolutely clear where the heroes are and where the villains are, then "on this side of the screen" the events do not look so unambiguous.

2. Chapter 1

3 DBYA,
Coruscant,
Imperial City,
The Emperor's Palace.

At first, surprise caused a burning sensation in the lungs. It was like running through a difficult cross-country. Then - weight. The heaviness pressing from all sides. When I opened my eyes, I realized that my field of vision had noticeably narrowed. My arms and legs felt different. Not as abruptly as they should have. And then... another feeling came. Incomprehensible, alien, but incredibly pleasant. This is probably what yogis and kung fu masters meant when they talked about deep meditation. Unity with the universe. I knew that two people were hesitating in front of the room door. I knew that the ornamental trees on the balcony were on their last legs, as the automatic irrigation system had failed a few weeks ago. He could accurately count the number of living creatures within a radius of several tens of meters…

Unfortunately, the "enlightenment" ended abruptly and cruelly. The brain began to tear up memories. And they were... they are wrong about something. Double. As if from different people. So, I was going to the first class and I'm assembling the first droid in my life. The first kiss and the delight of the first independent flight. A fight in an alley. The quiet corridors of the Jedi Temple. Wedding in a picturesque valley. The monotony of army everyday life. The horrors of war in the gloomy rainy jungle.

Two lives in a few seconds. It was painful. Very. And not only in terms of the load on the brain. I felt everything. I have lived the lives of two people. Their ups and downs. The happiest moments and what I wanted to forget, like a terrible dream. The condition was strange. Not yet a split personality, but very close to it. On the one hand, I knew for sure that my name was Stanislav Boretsky. An ordinary Russian of the XX-XXI centuries. Well, maybe not quite ordinary – after all, the head of the Department of precision Engineering at one of the leading universities in the country. As they said – the youngest of all such, well, so, thank God, I am not deprived of my mind. I didn't waste my energy on any nonsense, like many young people of my time: alcohol never attracted me, I never really started smoking, quitting smoking because I realized that it was complete nonsense, sex... well, you know, promiscuous sex wasn't for me. It's gone or something. Therefore, they considered me almost some kind of mutant and often laughed at me, calling me impotent. Well, let them. They knew better how to live by themselves, and I knew better how to live by myself. The last thing I remember was the bright headlights of a multi-ton truck that lost control and crashed right into my forehead. And the darkness… On the other hand, I was Anakin Skywalker. Or rather, already Darth Vader. The emperor's right hand. His personal executioner. Commander-in-chief of the Imperial army. All life is a continuous tragedy. It is unknown how I did not break down under the yoke of fate's blows and my own mistakes. But I survived. Reborn. Became stronger. Anakin died on the burning Mustafar, leaving only Darth Vader. A decade and a half of continuous war has made me a closed, cynical person, accustomed to being ready to repel an attack at any moment. Add here the old habit of reacting sharply to any aggression in my direction, and you will get an approximate portrait.

Thoughts were confused, fragments of two personalities collided, conflicted or, conversely, connected. Both "I" struggled for existence. A confused Stanislav and an extremely angry Vader. It is not known why, but neither side could gain the upper hand. And in their opposition, someone else was born. A reasonable, slightly boring pragmatist Stas and a hot-tempered, cynical Sith Lord. They were disappearing. Slowly, but inevitably. Their personalities were connected. Their knowledge, memory and skills were coordinated. Their characters, dissolving, created something new. After what seemed like an eternity, a new person was born in Lord Vader's office. He remembered his previous lives, but he did not consider himself either an Earthling or a commander of the Imperial Armed Forces, whose body an unknown entity tried to capture. He was just happy. Enjoyed life. Because Life is definitely better than Non-Life.

- I was born! – the man exhaled, remembering a stupid children's cartoon. And, for the first time in many years, a sincere smile played on the burnt lips under the frightening black mask.