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Their screams were a melody to his ears. It was the song of victory. To him they were not shouting from pain or for mercy; they were cheering. He told himself they were cheering for the Empire, for it’s might and its power. They knew, as they met the lethal end of his ‘saber that the Empire had won, will win. He saw their realization in their eyes. Every single rebel that had the unfortunate fate of meeting him, had the same expression at the end of his lightsaber. Their eyes showed fear, sorrow, regret. Things Lord Vader knew all too well to miss in the faces of others.
His men were doing well. The Rebels stood no chance against Vader's Fist. Their training, their numbers, their weaponry were far more superior than whatever the rebel scum have managed to smuggle.
It was almost too easy for him. They were like moths to a light. They all thought they could take him. They all wanted to play the hero. But their bravado and arrogance lasted only a few meaningless seconds when they got the courage to charge him. Three rebels down with the slightest twitch of his hand as the Sith Lord sent them flying over the banister to his right. Two more were down, falling like dead trees, coming from behind him. His lightsaber sliced cleanly through their torsos. Now four pieces of rebel scum littered his path.
Although it was a simple task, destroying these rebel bases, Vader noticed that their numbers were increasing with every invasion. He would need to triple his forces, and double down on the security of these outer planets. He couldn’t risk losing the only thing he had left to a few extremists with too much independent thought. He strikes again, stepping over the fresh corpse in his way.
He made his way further into the rebel base, pleased by the sight of their bodies scattered in the corridors. He could sense their victory in the air, his Master would be pleased by his success. That was all he ever cared about anymore. He needed his missions to be successful, if not, then there was no point to anything. These rebels he fought, had so much more to live for, to fight for. That is what makes them weak.
Something clipped through his cape. He felt it shoot past him and his head turned quickly. His eyes landed on the hole made by blaster fire. His cape smoked and sizzled around the edges of the hole, and as another shot was fired, Vader's mind forced the bolt into the wall, sending sparks into the air. He looked up, hoping whoever had fired that blaster would at least give him a good fight before he killed them. But the Sith Lord froze. It was not a rebel that had fired the blaster, it was not even a person. It was a machine he had not seen in many years. No, it was a droid Anakin had not seen in many years.
It was a battle droid, two of them in fact. The models the Separatists used during the Clone Wars. The rebels must have reprogrammed them for defensive purposes. Still, Vader thought, they had to be destroyed. He picked them up, reaching out his hand, pulling the droids towards him without laying a finger and either. They yelled that metallic, robotic sound that he, no Anakin, had heard a million times before. His ‘saber cut thought the metal. His form still the same as all those years ago, he knew where he should aim to shut down and destroy the droids programming for good.
Darth Vader blinked, only for a moment after he watched the scraps of the druids tumble to the ground past him. When he opened them, there was no red glint obscuring his vision. There was no red glow from his lightsaber. Instead there was blue. Then he noticed the silence. No respirator, nothing was filling his lungs with oxygen, yet, he could breathe.
“Come on, boys!” A voice, a familiar voice shouted. “Let’s get some clankers!” A chorus of similar voices replied in various chants and battle cries. Then footsteps from behind him. He turned only slightly, and saw a horde of Stormtroopers, no, Clonetroopers running down the hall towards him. They all ran past firing their blasters at an enemy he could not see.
He looked down at his hands. One gloved, holding his blue lightsaber, the other, flesh. Unscorched and intact. He flexed his fingers, the sensation of them rubbing against each other sent shivers down his spine. How was he here? Anakin was gone, how was he here?
“Come on, Master!” A girl's voice called. He glanced up, looking around the corridor, searching for the source of that voice. It too was familiar, and it made him feel a certain kind of warmth in his chest he had not felt in a very long time. But his vision was now blurred by a white haze that clung to the sides of his eyes. The girl giggled and laughed, but every time he turned to find her, he could only see a green glow, then a blue.
“Master hurry up!”The girl seemed to tease. She giggled again and he felt the anger flare in his chest. Why could he not find her, where was she?
“Rex is waiting, let’s go, Master!” She whined. Her voice got louder. The girl was saying phrases he had heard before. She was speaking his own thoughts to him.
“What do you want? Where are you?” He bellowed, his voice the same as Darth Vader's. As he shouted those words her giggling stopped, as did her sentences. It was quiet for a moment. The hallway stilled, the haze around his eyes was evaporating as the second passed. Then he felt a presence behind him. He turned, afraid of what his eyes would meet.
There stood a girl. Togrutan, young, bright eyes looking up at him. The grin on her face dropped as he made eye contact with her. The markings on her face burned in his mind. He knew this girl. He knew her face. Of course he did. Anakin did.
“ Ahsoka? ” Vader's voice spoke.
“Was it worth it?”
That was all she said. He went to say more, but as he inhaled to speak, she vanished. The sound of the clones in the distance was replaced by the sound of dying rebels, and the place where his former apprentice stood, there laid a corpse.
No , Vader thought, looking down at his own hands. It was not worth it .