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Title: THE LAST PEICE OF HIM

Author: Lady Vader

 

summary: A stream of conciousness peice that reflects upon the momment Vader realizes he has a son and the emotional confusion born of that momment.

 

disclaimer: Anybody reading this knows Star Wars isn 't mine. This story was not written for profit, only entertainment. I only wished to borrow a few seconds of Vader's life and then return him to his universe.

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Vader tossed the table across the room, with his hands. For so long he had been distant from feeling such a strain on his own muscles. But in his young days, he'd always had to throw his whole self into something. He didn't want to feel the force, he wanted to feel pain when he was angry, truly angry. When he was merely displeased, he could distantly kill someone with the grip of the force. That displeasure wasn't anything like this, this, termoil inside him. Among his men he had control, controling people's fear. But this, this feeling had no control, it was hard to feel. He didn't want to feel her again, didn't want to feel pain again. He had spent years eliminating pain. His focus was on something more clean, less involved, POWER, ORDER. It was nice and neat, it had no complications.

 

"But he's your son," a voice said.

 

A son, he had a son. Thier was only one answer, destroy him. But how could he, the last possible peice of her in the Galaxy. But that was why he had to be destroyed. But he couldn't he knew he couldn't, he was her son, his son. No, No, he didn't want a son, he didn't need a son, not when he was on the verge of destroying this silly rebellion, on the verge of his true destiny.

 

"He's your destiny." A voice whispered  again.

 

Thoose eyes, thoose peircing eyes. It had been different on her, but the same. He'd wanted to squash that Princess for reminding him of her, of his---- No, no, don't even think of her name again, names brought faces. But it was good that she reminded him of her, that made it necessary to stomp her out, as well as the rebellion. But knowing there was a child, his child, with her. Not just some smart  mouthed princess who reminded him of her, out there in the galaxy stired something up in him. Something he didn't want to feel. Tangled emotions raced through him, he saw her face then the boys face, then that princesses face, he felt as if his head would explode.

 

The  voice forced it's way into his head again. "My caring for you will never change", "I love you", "please, don't"

 

"Go Away," he yelled.

 

His voice, his mechanically altered voice. He heard it so clearly. He wasn't a man anymore. A man hadn't crawled out of that molten pit. He didn't have a man's face or a man's hands. The lips that had kissed her, the hands that touched her, it was all gone. But the boy was here, alive, filled with the same powers that filled his father. Only a man could have a son. And he had a son, a living breathing peice of the man he was.

 

"And her."---a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

 

But he wouldn't think about her, it was to painful. She was gone, insignificant. Again his mind crossed the images of Princess Leia and his former wife. That girl would have to be destroyed, he couldn't bare to be reminded of the boys mother, it would destroy him. But first his son, he must have his son.