Well it's been awhile. Here's something I wrote some time ago, inspired by my love for my favorite character, Luke. It's really more about Vader and Anakin this time around though.
If anyone is still interested, I hope to have the completed chapters for my other story, Saving the Galaxy up sometime soon.
All reviews, criticisms, comments, etc. are very welcome. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Darth Vader. Do you think anyone could own Darth Vader? Besides Palpatine, that is.
After he recovered from the severe punishment his Master inflicted on him, he purposefully strode out of the med chamber and into the data center, hatred and fury following him in the wake of the storm that was his black heart.
All the officers stumbled out of his way, choking back fear as he marched past, praying that they would be spared his wrath. They need not have worried, for his yellow-tinted eyes did not focus on them at all. There was no way they could know this however, and so they ran, leaving the Dark Lord to his fury, destruction, and pain.
The data center was cleared in the same way as he strode into the room and positioned himself in front of the main screen, ordering monotonously, "Leave at once."
They ran.
Lord Vader quickly accessed the databank in front of him, pulling up report after report of the attack. His eyes flashed as he looked over the number of those killed in the accident and for a moment he could feel something quivering deep down inside of him, trying so hard to manifest itself into something not unlike compassion for these lives.
He trod it underfoot with a blaze of rage and concentrated instead on the fact that his Master had mourned the loss of this technical station more than the fact that someone had been powerful enough to destroy it.
Someone who was Force-sensitive.
His gloved hands flew over the keyboard but the screen yielded nothing positive. Imperial Intelligence had not yet figured out who was responsible for this heinous crime, this humiliating defeat, this event that had sparked and set the universe alight with fire.
The spark that had set his heart alight with fury.
He closed the databank and proceeded to locate the head of Intelligence. The officer could tell him nothing about the deal, he could only assure Lord Vader that his best spies were working on the identification of the Rebel scum and they would alert him the moment they knew something.
Lord Vader accepted this calmly with a nod.
He then choked the officer and ordered the others to focus solely on finding out this person's identity, or else they too would suffer the same fate. They had one day to figure out who the Rebel was.
That night was the most productive and effective use of time the Imperial Intelligence Agency would ever experience.
The night before they tell him, he has a dream full of bright and vivid colors. It is odd, for he does not dream in color anymore—just in red, which has ceased to become a color to him ever since the mask went on.
He dreams of her often, nightmares filled with long stretches of pain and happiness that is snatched away too quickly. There is darkness and blood in those sleeping hours and horrors beyond imagination. And there is no hope of redemption.
When the dream begins then, he fights it with all of his might.
But it persists and finally he acquiesces. To his surprise, he sees a field of shining stars and a tangle of beautiful, vibrant colored-strands running throughout this vast space. They are lines of indescribable beauty, connecting forms of beings with each other. They are warm and for some reason, they dim the burning inside of him.
He sees then, the form of a young boy, made entirely it seems, of light. He can decipher no features, only a vague outline.
But what he can feel is so much more valuable than what he sees, even with the myriad of colors.
The boy is innocent, warm and full of life. For no reason at all, he laughs and reaches out to other strands with love. He accepts life and plunges recklessly through the gleaming tangle, unaware of how much he affects the balance.
And Vader is suddenly, mortally afraid.
For he remembers a child who was once this gullible, who was once this foolish. There was a naïve boy who loved this much before and this path brought him only destruction and ruin.
He can think of only one way to save this poor misguided child, whoever he is. He must introduce him to the dark and give him the means to power. It is the only way.
As if sensing the shift, the boy pauses and turns, as if regarding him. Vader wants very much to reach out a hand, but he restrains himself. There will be time enough, he considers.
He smiles behind the mask as he imagines this fool calling him Master.
The tangle dissolves suddenly and he realizes that the dream is almost over. He prepares to wake and to set out on his purpose of finding this boy. In his dream, he turns away from the light, a steady sense of duty settling over his shoulders.
A flash of light at the edge of his perception causes him to turn back for a second however, and as he glances back, Vader reels in shock with what he sees.
Instead of a blurry, vague form confronting him, there is a young man with familiar blonde hair and blue eyes, staring at him in terror.
"No."
"Lord Vader?"
The voice disturbed him out of his thoughts as he gazed out at the galaxy. It had been one standard hour since he awoke and began puzzling over his strange dream. As usual, he could not decipher his nighttime visions, and it was driving him to fury again. The deck officers were lucky that he didn't have the energy to kill them from sheer lack of sleep.
Especially since the vision implied that…
He pushed the thought out of his head quickly and turned to face the officer. "Yes officer, what is it?"
"My Lord, Imperial Intelligence has the information you requested," the officer presented him with a small data pad. "They say they will make the information public two standard hours."
"Very good officer. Dismissed." The officer snapped a salute and left.
Vader made his way to his quarters quickly, the fury and rage burning within him. He accessed the data pad and pushing all thoughts of his strange dream out of his head, accessed the file intelligence had provided him.
"No."
It came out as barely a whisper as he saw the picture, of the young man who he met in his dream the night before. He tried to push it away, but somewhere deep down, he knew that it was all true. He reached out with the Force and it sang to him with the horrible and wonderful truth.
I have a son. How is that possible?
The burning fire exploded.
He lied to me. He lied to me.
The officers told stories later of how half of the ship was destroyed in a matter of minutes as Lord Vader strode through its passages heading straight for what he called his meditation chambers. Consoles, expensive equipment, and first class lieutenants went flying against the walls.
It was like an explosion had ripped through the path.
Later, when one of the officers told it to the Emperor, it was reported that the Leader of the Universe threw back his head and cackled.
It was only ever a rumor though, and if you ever asked any of the officers what it was all about, they'd give you their best puzzled look and ask what you were referring to, exactly.
Imperial officers were not always the brightest of the bunch, but they weren't entirely stupid either.
I have a son. His name is Luke Skywalker. He is from Tatooine. He is a member of the Rebel Alliance, the pilot who blew up the Death Star. He is my sworn enemy.
He lied to me.
The inferno within raged and spun out of control, manifesting itself physically within the room. The room patiently bore the weight of the storm, having seen these rages before. It had been designed specifically with all of this in mind.
He is the one from my dream.
I must find him.
He is my son. He is mine.
He stopped then, wondering at the last thought.
Where did this idea of ownership come from?
I should not be thinking this way, I should be calm and in control, detached. It should not matter what happens to this, this offspring of mine. He will no doubt be just as ready to betray his father, to run away screaming, just as everyone else did.
Obi-Wan hid him from me! The rage burned anew. He hid my child. He hid this powerful son of mine.
Vader pushed away all thought of contradictions in his head. He would have his son, if only to defeat whatever purpose Obi-Wan was trying to accomplish. He recalled the burning light in his dream from the night before and realized just how much power his son possessed—power that came from him.
Power with no training, no experience, no tainting of Jedi indoctrination for years and years.
Power with no limits.
Visions assaulted Vader's head as the storm calmed down. Visions of the young man, Luke, standing next to him on the bridge of the Executor, eyes no longer blue, but a steady, calm and controlled Sith yellow.
And the best part of the vision was that the Emperor was nowhere in sight.
Underneath the armor the embers that had burned so long in his soul ignited into a small flame. For the first time in twenty years he felt alive. He reached out again and felt the bond with his son and relished in the thread. Vader wanted very much to pull on the thread and reel the boy in.
But, no. He would have to wait, to plot and conspire against his Master. He would have to seek Luke out on his own. He would find him, capture him, and make him see.
Vader rose from his meditation chambers, repressing the urge to smile at how everything had changed.
I will get you back for this Obi-Wan and you too Master. Luke will be mine and we will rule the galaxy.
And, whispered a small part of his mind, you will be able to love again.
So intent was Vader on getting back to business with this new weapon in mind, that he accepted this piece of information without any problem.
And deep down inside, Anakin rejoiced.
He goes to bed at peace for the first time in twenty years, sure that it will all work out and that he will become a proper Sith Master at last.
Then, he dreams.
He opens his eyes to find that he can see without any red tint, that he can see the green of the grass and the beautiful blue of the sky.
He realizes with a jolt that he is on Naboo and that he is Anakin Skywalker once more. For a moment he fights this and finally, accepting the strange mind games his own brain plays on him, looks around.
"Dad!"
And suddenly, Luke is there, barreling into him, a young child, who hugs him with inordinate strength for someone so young. He is laughing and he gazes at Anakin with pure love.
"Luke," he knows it is not true, but he hugs the child back, holding him close.
"Dad, stop you're hurting me!"
The child's voice is high and indignant as Anakin finds himself inexplicably tightening his grip on the child.
"I'm sorry, I can't stop," Anakin tries futilely to let go of his son, but realizes to his horror that he suddenly has become Vader again, and has a clenched gloved fist around Luke's throat.
Luke is no longer a child now, but the young man he undoubtedly is in the waking world, and he claws at the gloved hand, eyes wide with terror and pleading.
"No!"
There is cackling in the background and a sudden dark shape influences Vader to squeeze harder, to pit him against his own flesh and blood, to press until he hears the bone snap, and Luke goes limp in his arms.
He is Anakin again suddenly and yet he still feels imprisoned as he cradles the lifeless body in his arms. He lays a shaking hand on his son's eyes and closes them slowly.
The light that was his son is gone and Anakin feels lost in the darkness—the darkness that Vader himself created.
"It will not be this way," Anakin vows to himself, standing up and shaking fist at the sky. "I do not care how much you push me down when you are awake. I will protect our son."
"For Padmé."
He will wake then, disoriented and dizzy, with a strange loneliness in his mind. He will shake it off quickly though, having forgotten the dream already, having forgotten Anakin and having pushed Padmé to the farthest corners of his mind.
Vader rises and begins to hunt his prey, unaware of the small flame in the shadows, set alight by the spark that will change the galaxy forever.