Chapter 13 – Vader
Author's Note: This is actually the last chapter I've written, and I'm hoping to have the next one completed in two weeks, but this is just a heads up in case it doesn't happen. xP
I hope y'all who are still with me continue to enjoy! :)
~ Amina Gila
The next time Anakin goes to a cantina – because yes, he knows what Owen said, but it's hard, and he has a theory, okay? – it's after he's been experimenting with his awareness of his own body with the Force. He tries shutting it down, tries closing out the Force, to see if that will be enough to let him forget, if only for a moment.
The first shot of alcohol hits him hard, far harder than he thought. It sends his thoughts to spinning dizzily, and he feels a reprieve from everything for only a minute before his control over the Force wavers, letting it flood back in, filling his veins with power and wiping away the alcohol in his system. Well, apparently, his normal, non-Force, human body is very much not alcohol-intolerant. Good to know.
But also, he probably won't be trying this again. It doesn't seem worth it, to drink, only to get a very short moment of peace from the demons in his head.
Instead, he throws himself into working on machines, into furthering his own personal projects. You need to find a purpose, Owen had said, and Anakin knows that he's right. He does. It just… isn't easy. For so long, he has followed the orders of others, and he has become accustomed to it. Even now, after weeks on Tatooine, he has not fully adjusted to being able to make choices of his own – it feels like, at any moment, he'll get a message or mission or something he needs to do. He can do anything now, though, anything at all.
It's unreal.
It's also terrifying.
He takes the freedom – if that is truly what this is – seriously, focusing even more intently on finishing the prototype of the spacesuit. He's gathered most of the pieces already; the only thing left is the pieces for the built-in regulator, and whatever programming he'll have to input into the helmet. Those weren't things that Idhi had been able to get, unfortunately, so Anakin went to Mos Espa for those.
And he's in Mos Espa now. Being here is… hard. The streets, many of them, are so familiar to him, and it feels as if every time he turns a corner, he's running into another ghost of his past. It takes far too long for him to acquire and finish haggling for the pieces with the local Jawas, but finally, he has them. Which means he can finish the suit.
He doesn't know if it's his own desire or something deeper, more subconscious, from the Force, that pushes him to work on it, but it's relaxing. It makes him feel as though he's accomplished something, and he craves that feeling. He needs it, needs to know that he's done something useful, that he's something other than a failure and a coward.
After he finishes the transaction and heads back towards his starfighter-turned-speeder, he passes a cantina on the way. It's one he knows well, because he has been down this street more times than he cares to remember. He has no intention of going in, or even nearby, but then, a faint ripple of distress in the Force draws his attention anyway.
His heart skips a beat when he sees a far-too-familiar Toydarian, wings beating rapidly, hovering in the alley on the side of the cantina. He's speaking to two drunkards – the haziness of their presences, and the way they're swaying a little, is a giveaway – and behind him, pressed up against the wall, cowers a Twi'lek girl. She's in her teens, late teens if Anakin had to guess, and the distress he sensed is coming from her. There's a sickening feeling of lust from the two men, and it all clicks into place, with sinking dread and numb horror.
Memories cavort around the edges of his mind, teasing him with whispers of horrible things that he tries so hard to suppress, things of nightmares. He's breathing too fast, heart hammering as he remembers the unwanted sensation of hands and – and –
Roughly, Anakin shoves away those memories, willing them down to the deepest, darkest parts of his mind where they can't bother him, but he's unable to take his eyes off Watto, off the young slave girl who is about to be sold off to these two monsters.
No.
Not on his watch.
He will not ever stand by and watch someone suffer in that way if he can do something about it. The Dark Side rises in response to his anger, and he doesn't think as he curls his hand into a fist at his side, wrapping the Force around Watto's neck and choking him. The Toydarian flounders, voice cut off, grabbing at his throat, but there's nothing he can do to remove the invisible grip, and his movements falter, slowing, before he falls to the ground in the alley, his life slipping away. Anakin feels nothing as he sees his former owner lying dead.
The two men back away slowly, eyes wide and panicked, as they take in the dead slaver at their feet. They glance towards the Twi'lek girl, before turning and running away, no doubt fearing that they'll be blamed for the death.
Anakin waits a few moments, pulling the Force around himself to make him less obvious as he ducks into the alley where the girl is still standing, her fear pouring into the Force. "You're safe," he tells her quietly, holding out his hands so he doesn't startle her. "It's okay."
"Did – did you… do this?" she whispers, looking at Watto before meeting his eyes.
He reaches out, touching her shoulder lightly, fleetingly, sending a tendril of the Force through her body as he searches for her slave chip. With the Dark as his ally, and the Light waiting for him to call on it, he delves into the mechanism, deactivating it. It can never be used against her now, even if the chip is still inside her body. "You're free," he tells her, stepping back. "Run. You will not die. Find somewhere to go. There are people who will help you." And then, "It would be best, for both of us, if you forget you ever saw me."
She looks at him, understanding in her eyes, as she nods, lekku swishing. "Thank you," she whispers, turning and disappearing into the alley. She'll be fine. She's strong; all slaves are.
Anakin watches her go before turning and going back the way he came, heading back to his small hut to drop off the items he picked up. As he goes, he realizes that it's the first time in days that he feels so calm. He feels… relieved. He saved someone, a slave. He freed her. But he is only one person, and he can't save everyone on this planet, can he? He doesn't know if he's really ready to start another war so soon after escaping his first, either.
He thinks about it late into the night.
**w**
Even two days later, Anakin is still thinking about it, that feeling of accomplishment he had felt when he saved the Twi'lek. He doesn't know what happened to her, but he has no doubt that she probably escaped to a safe place. And he remembers how, years ago, when he was still a child, he'd had a dream of being a Jedi and coming back to Tatooine to free all the slaves. It had felt like his mission, at the time, the sole reason why he had so ardently hoped to become a Jedi. He had wanted to help people. Even when he left his mother, he had promised her to come back and free her.
But he had been a child. He had not understood the politics, at the time, and what it would mean for him, as a Jedi, to start a war against the Hutts. The Council would never have let him do it, and they discouraged attachment to origins. He would have been castigated for wanting to help the people of his past.
Now? Now, none of that matters anymore. There are no more Jedi. The Order is gone. The Council is gone. There is no one who can stop him from fulfilling his childhood dreams. And yet, he hesitates. He hesitates because he is… afraid. He is afraid. Doing anything now, even if he is free to do so, feels like struggling up a cliff with no support. It feels like climbing up a hill with no top in sight. It feels impossible. He might have the Force as his ally, and he might be the Chosen One, but he is still only one man. And he has Reva to worry about, too. He isn't as free to act as might otherwise be – he will not abandon her, either.
What should I do? He asks the Force as he meditates in the nighttime hours when he can't sleep. What path is the right one for me to take?
By the next morning, Anakin is in Anchorhead, selling some Bantha milk he got from a wild Bantha as well as some water from the Lars homestead to get credits for him and Owen. His mind is still unsettled, unrested, as he struggles to find answers that aren't readily apparently.
Soon, the Force whispers to him, all at once. Wait and watch. Soon.
A disturbance draws his attention minutes later, and he turns towards the source of the shouting to see a young Zabrak boy being beaten by an older near-human male. The boy is in his early teens, and from the tattered clothing he's wearing, as well as the fear and resignation he's radiating into the Force, Anakin realizes that he's probably a slave. An attempted runaway, no doubt. The man knocks him to the ground, kicking him and shouting Huttese obscenities at him, and Anakin feels the familiar surge of protective rage.
People look to the scene, but they look away again, going about their affairs, totally ignoring the plight of the child. It's sickening, and it's then, in that moment, that Anakin knows he has to do something. Sure, he's only one person, but even if only one person wages war, he'll at least save someone. Like that Twi'lek girl who survived a fate worse than death. She's alive and free now.
There are children suffering here, children who are being beaten, children who are dying. And he cannot be true to the name Skywalker, cannot hold up his head and bear that name and its meaning, if he looks away and does nothing in the face of these horrors and injustices. He is not a slave any longer.
He is Anakin Skywalker, and he is free.
Anakin reaches out with the Force, wrapping it around the slaver's neck and crushing. The beating stops abruptly as the man struggles and gasps for air. That, he realizes bitterly, draws even more attention, a few people moving closer as if they could somehow offer the slaver aid. But it's to no avail, of course, and Anakin tightens his telekinetic grip, feeling bones in the man's neck crunch before he lets go. He feels nothing but grim satisfaction as the dead body collapses on the sandy road in the middle of the town.
No one looks at him or suspects anything, and a couple people stop to investigate while the Zabrak slinks away into the shadows to nurse his wounds. Anakin watches him through the Force until he determines that the child has found a safe place before going on his own way.
Like Owen suggested, Anakin has found his purpose again.
He is the Skywalker, the one who will bring freedom as the ancient Tatooinian legends, passed from one generation of slaves to another, have foretold.
**w**
Reva is sleeping when Anakin finally slips off the mat and creeps from the hut, making his way down the short path to his workshop, which has been carved into the stone, the entrance hidden carefully so no one can see it. All of his miscellaneous projects and jobs are done here, and while Reva knows where it is, she knows not to come in here alone, since there are potentially dangerous things here.
He can't sleep, his mind racing as he calculates and plans his next moves. Now that he knows that he has to act, to fight slavery however he can, he has to figure out how to do so. He cannot let anyone discover his identity, because Sidious will come for him. So, he'll have to be clever, crafty. He will have to hide himself, and luckily, the environmental suit he's been designing will function perfectly as a disguise. And that means he needs to finish it.
Anakin loses track of time as he works feverishly, pulling all of the components together to complete it. He has everything he needs to complete the model he's envisioned. He can start by liberating Tatooine, no matter how long it takes – he will find allies on the way, he knows. And from there, he can go galactic. He can – he can go after Sidious himself. Eventually. In due time. Slavery will not exist in the galaxy on his watch. This – this is what he was born to do.
It must have been hours, and he doesn't remember dozing off, but he must have, because the next thing he knows, he's drifting in a canvas of stars, inky blackness surrounding him on all sides, broken only by the pinpricks of light all around. It's beautiful, breathtaking, and Anakin admires it for a moment, wondering why he's here… wherever here even is.
"Skywalker."
He startles at the voice, because of all the voices he could have heard here, Dooku was not on the list. He's dead, after all. Slowly, Anakin turns, warily, to see the red-tinted translucent apparition of Dooku. He looks, surprisingly, or not, much the same as he did when he died, except he looks strangely peaceful; there is none of the dark maliciousness in him that Anakin sensed when he was alive.
"Dooku," he answers, gesturing to their surroundings. "Why am I here? Did you bring me here?"
"Yes and no," the ghost replies. "I have seen what you are planning, and when you fell asleep, your mind was opened to the Force. I reached out to you, and you answered."
Anakin frowns, caught off guard. He's instantly wary, because he doesn't know what Dooku's angle is. "What do you want?" he asks slowly.
"The Jedi have called you the Chosen One," Dooku says, clasping his hands behind his back. He looks contemplative, and for a brief moment, Anakin wonders if this is what he was like as a Jedi Master: a cool smoky presence, hard but not Dark. "And you are. It is your destiny to bring balance to the Force, but I don't believe you, much less the Jedi, understand what that means."
"And you do?" Yes, he's suspicious. He might regret having killed Dooku in cold-blood, but that doesn't mean he trusts the man.
"Perhaps," Dooku allows. "You were never meant to destroy the Sith, Anakin; that is merely what the Jedi wish to believe. They have been blinded. They do not understand or embrace the Force in its entirety. I have been watching you. I have seen what you have done. You have seen the truth of the Dark; it is dangerous, but not evil."
"Yes," he concedes, "What is it that you want from me? I don't trust you, and I do not understand how this is possible, but I know that this is… really you. Somehow." The Force doesn't lie, and the Force is telling him that this is Dooku, even though he's dead.
"All things are possible through the Force," the ghost tells him. "You yourself are balance. You walk the fine line between the sides of the Force, and you must be cautious so that you don't lose your way. The future of the galaxy depends on it."
Well, now Anakin is worried, because if Dooku is warning him of something? Yes, there is no better time to be concerned. He doesn't know how to reply to that, but then, he doesn't need to, because Dooku keeps speaking.
"When I Fell, it was not out of weakness as the Jedi believe. It was out of a desire to do good, to bring justice. I saw where the Republic and the Order were headed, and… I sought to fix it. I was misled, and I lost my way. Perhaps it is because I realized it, at the end, that the Force let me linger." There is a surprising amount of sincerity in Dooku's voice. He is being genuine and not attempting to manipulate or confuse Anakin as he has in the past. "When I look at you," he continues, "I see the person I once was, but you are… better. You have faced temptation and resisted. You are… stronger." From his expression, it seems to pain him to admit to it.
"But you want something from me," Anakin manages, trying not to think too deeply about the words. He doesn't want to believe that he's anything like Dooku, and yet, if the ghost is to be believed, he truly wanted to help people once upon a time. Much like Anakin now.
"In you, there is a chance for the Sith and the Dark Side to be redeemed," Dooku informs him, eyes solemn. "Through you, all of Palpatine's victims can find justice… and vengeance. You, Skywalker, are the future of the Sith. You can be something new, neither Jedi nor Sith, but a Knight of the Force itself. I give you the name Darth Vader. Use it wisely and use it well. The galaxy is depending on you."
The red-tinted form flickers, fading, and with it, so does the dream, no matter how Anakin grasps at it, trying to linger so he can ask more questions. All of it was so unexpected and sudden that he doesn't know how to begin reacting to it.
When he comes awake, he's slumped over the completed suit. He rises, stumbling from his workshop and returning to the hut where Reva is still sleeping. She rolled over in the night, probably seeking out him, and he settles on the floor next to her, slipping into a light meditative trance as he tries to clear his mind. So much has happened so suddenly, and if even Dooku approves of what Anakin is doing, then he really must be doing something right. It's strange to think of the man's spirit watching him from beyond the grave, and as unsettling as it is, it also makes him feel… strangely protected.
"I am Darth Vader," he whispers, barely audible, but knowing that Dooku will hear him from within the Force, "And I will avenge you."
This is it. This is what he has been working towards, becoming a lone, masked vigilante who will rain death and bloody justice on the heads of the slavers on Tatooine. Masquerading as a Sith, using Dooku's red lightsaber, he can hide who he is. And more than that, he can do it without fearing the Empire. He's no Jedi, and it was the Jedi who have been banned in the Empire, not the Sith, not Force users.
Maybe Dooku deserved to die, but he didn't deserve to die by the order of the man he called master. He was Anakin's first cold-blooded kill, the first he executed, the one who, from a certain point of view, started him down this path.
A little louder, he adds, "I am a Knight of the Force."
And around him, the Force sings, content.
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