Chapter Text
Duelling, it’s what he was made for. What the Jedi trained him for. He was a product of the clone wars, a warrior long accustomed to battle. Thus was the identity of Anakin Skywalker: a Jedi, a friend, a hero– but Anakin was no more. Now he was a weapon. A blade sharpened by the dark side to be wielded by his master. It was his purpose. His blood burned for it, what he craved above all else—a respite from the endless politics and governing.
Yes, fighting was what Vader did, and he did it well. Yet he rarely saw battle these days. He spent most of his time in the company of officers scrambling for his attention or his demise. Meanwhile, the hunting of Jedis was left to the Inquisitors—a poor excuse for force-wielders. For Siths, they were not.
Vader looked down at the Third Sister. She lay on the ground, her hand pressed against a wound similar to the one he’d inflicted years ago. Her face was contorted into a pained expression.
Disgust rolled inside him at her pitiful state.
Were these the weapons his Master sent to hunt the Jedi in his stead? What a disgrace. A Padawan would have fought harder. He could have easily ignited his lightsaber and been done with her, but his anger had toppled over. He had been festering it the entire flight to Jabiim in preparation for his duel against Kenobi. Though his master had shown how pathetically weak he’d become these last few years, he knew he had to practice caution. A fool, his old master was not. Something he demonstrated yet again. He outsmarted and used his weakness against him, just like he did in Mustafar.
‘Your need to prove yourself is your undoing. Until you overcome it, a Padawan, you will still be.’
The stumps that were his arms and legs ached from year-old wounds. He gritted his teeth, and his grip around the hilt of his lightsaber tightened.
He should have long forgotten those words by now. They had burned in the memory of Anakin Skywalker, the weak boy he once was. He thought he had grown past it, but his hate for his old master still burned.
He dared to treat him like a Padawan? Like he was still the master and he the learner?
Rage flared inside him yet again.
He was more powerful than Kenobi. He’d shown it time and time again. He defeated some of the greatest Jedis in history and fought some of the most powerful Sith Lords. He’d come a long way from the boy stumbling in the dark. He was Darth Vader, a Sith Lord, second in command only to the Emperor himself. He was far from the Padawan he’d been that day, and yet- his hand balled into a fist- his old master outsmarted him, and all that remained was the pitiful youngling. The only thing to bleed his anger upon. And what anger it was. After all these years of looking for Kenobi, thinking that perhaps he was dead or dying, only for him to escape his grasp. And now, all he had was a broken transporter and a child stupid enough to think she could defeat him. Him.
The Grand Inquisitor knelt by the Third Sister.
“We will leave you where we found you, in the gutter where you belong.” The Inquisitor took the pin from her and rose to his feet. “Goodbye, Grand Inquisitor.”
He was wasting time.
Vader turned on his heels and left the Third Sister bleeding on the ground. He could kill her now, but he had already wasted enough time. The longer they took, the further Kenobi would fly from their grasp. And besides, he knew leaving her alive was worse than killing her.
Vader took his first step, then stopped abruptly.
He felt the stares of the stormtroopers and the Grand Inquisitor on the back of his helmet. However, he paid them no mind as he frowned.
What was that? The force around him flared for a second and then disappeared. It was small, barely noticeable, but he knew he hadn’t imagined it. His nerves throbbed with the residual energy.
Vader turned his head. The red screen that was his vision searched for any environmental changes, but there was nothing. Yet the odd sensation remained.
What was this? He got an odd feeling, one that–
His frown deepened.
Was it the force residue of his old master? No, that couldn’t be. There was something here, something important. Something the force was trying to tell him. But what? He knew he had no time for this, yet the force told him this was important.
“Lord Vader-“
He raised his hand.
Silence fell over the hangar. Closing his eyes, he opened himself to the force, allowing it to guide him. He felt everyone around him, but he knew the disturbance had nothing to do with them. He searched and searched until finally.
Vader snapped his eyes open.
Turning his head towards the Third Sister, he finally saw a flash of gold in the otherwise dull hangar.
His cape swirled as he turned and made his way toward the device with quick, dangerous strides. The device gave another flash as if beckoning him. It didn’t take him long to recognize what it was.
Everyone stopped and watched as he knelt to pick up the device.
Vader stared at the old clone war-era comlink resting in his palm. Static sound came from it, but nothing else. Turning it over, he continued to study it. It was old that much was clear and broken, but only recently, given the small sparks that flew from the circuits. But it was otherwise well taken care of, given the still shiny metal that glinted from the overhead lights.
Vader held the device between his fingers.
Few would carry such a thing in their person, as its design had not been used in years. Not to mention that owning any device used in the war was illegal and, therefore, hard to find. As if that wasn’t enough evidence of who it belonged to, the fact that he recognized it did.
‘If you ever need help, you know where to contact me, Anakin.’
Obi-Wan’s comlink glinted in the light. The symbol of the Jedi order flashed as if to mock him.
Vader rose to his feet. His gaze remained on the device as old memories played in his head. How long had it been since he’d seen i-
Vader clenched his fist around the device, stopping the thought and the sense of nostalgia in its track. Turning on his feet, he stashed it away and strode out of the hangar, his gaze fixed in front with pure determination on what lay ahead. The comlink would have to wait. Kenobi was his priority.
Obi-Wan sat in the transporter. His gaze trained head. Beside him, Roken spoke, but he did not hear him.
Why did he get a feeling that something was terribly wrong?
Burned. Defeated. Crippled. Failure.
He promised himself he would never lose another battle after his defeat in Mustafar, where he lost everything. And yet, here he was.
Vader limped into the great hall of his castle. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of his wheezing breath as his respirator failed to provide air. Despite his struggle and obvious pain, none dare approach the Dark Lord. Even the droids kept their distance. The few living beings inside his castle were loyal to him, and only him. But he did not call for them. Not only because he did not trust them when he was in such a weak state but because he was confident he would kill anyone that crossed his path right now.
Burned. Defeated. Crippled. Failure.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had once again beaten him in battle. Ten years. Ten years of hunting Jedis. Of training. Of getting used to his armour and creating new lightsaber forms. Being the most feared man in the galaxy. All for nothing.
He was still the boy Kenobi defeated by the banks of the lava river that now fed into this very castle. What’s worse, he let him live. Much like he’d done then, he couldn’t finish the job. Dying would have been more desirable.
Vader gritted his teeth to the point they might crack.
He didn’t need Kenobi’s pity, his weakness, his mercy. They were enemies. Whatever past they had meant nothing now. Obi-Wan had to kill him, and he him. To do otherwise was an insult to his skills, rank, and the force. The Jedis and the Siths were enemies. It grated on him that Obi-Wan disregarded millennia of war and his duty as a Jedi to spare his life. And for what? He didn’t owe him anything. He wanted nothing from him except a fair duel to finally end this constant chase. So long as Kenobi lived, he would continue to hunt him. They both knew this and yet he. Let. Him. Live!
‘I’m sorry, Anakin, for all of it.’
What remained of his brows crushed against each other as uncontrollable rage brimmed inside him. The walls around him groaned as the force leaked from him.
Leave it to his old master to think himself responsible for his fall. Only Obi-Wan could be so arrogant.
HE killed Anakin Skywalker. Not Lord Sidious, the Jedi, the Republic, or his old Master.Him. He and he alone could take credit for that, and he became stronger for it. He was not the great Obi-Wan Kenobi’s failure. He was not the fallen hero of the Republic. He was Darth Vader, Sith Lord, and he did not need anyone’s sympathy.
Droids beeped and came to life as he stepped into his bacta chamber. They were state-of-the-art medical droids, sentient enough to do the job he required of them.
Vader used his last remaining energy to slump down on the medical table. The droids required no further orders as they removed his armour. It hurt. As it always did.
He nearly snapped at them to hurry the process, as his armour felt more claustrophobic than usual. But he refrained. He needed the anger his confining armour brought him. Pain fed his hate, and hate fed his strength. That was the way of the Sith. Yet, he knew such emotion was a double-sided knife. On one side, it told him to kill, maim, and destroy everything around him. But like an explosive, it would be useless in an empty field. It took all of his training to change its trajectory. He knew he needed that anger, humiliation, and weakness to fuel his search for Kenobi instead.
A surgical light shone above him. He stared at it, refusing to turn his gaze even as the bright light burned his exposed eye.
He had to go after him. He had no other choice. Kenobi had to be destroyed. He would not rest until he was. He would have the battle he craved, with both of them at full strength. Nothing mattered more. And once he had Kenobi at his mercy, he would make him suffer just as he had. He would kill him just as Anakin died on those lava banks.
For the next few minutes, he worked on his breathing, doing his best to get into a meditative state. He couldn't wait to get into his bacta tank to process and plan. He-
“If he’s found you, if he’s learned of the children….”
Vader’s eyes snapped open.