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If you had pushed aside your emotions, if you had been a better Jedi, you would not be here. A shell of your past self, you still harbored the desire to do good. Even in the face of danger, at the likely possibility, you would die , you could not let that imperial stormtrooper strike down the poor, defenseless man in the street. You had given away your identity so carelessly to protect him, to fend off a group of white armored hounds. And in return, the people of this planet had given you up.
The root of all the imbalance in the galaxy stood across from you. Alone, you stood your ground and mustered a glare. There used to be unity, light, and hope. He may not have been the sole source of uprooting the Republic, but he was the catalyst that ended the war. He took everything you cared for and reduced it to nothing.
His cape billowed in the wind. The trees around your figures bristled as if nature itself tried to warn you of the danger. What little peace you had in your small abode away from the port had been disturbed by his presence. His being here was an omen of your shortcomings. Your time would soon come to an end.
Accompanied by the collected sound of his respirator, his warped voice cut over nature’s quiet cry. “You know who I am.”
“I’ve always known.”
His hand balled into a fist at his side. “Obi-Wan...” He relaxed his hand. “You two were always close.”
Bitterness bled through his words. You and the Jedi Master had a close relationship. He was the older brother you never had when you were a youngling. Always stood up for you, tutored you if he found time. His time for you grew slim when he gained a padawan, but that only meant your small circle grew one number whenever you did find each other in the temple. Obi-Wan was indeed the one who told you on that moon all those years ago, that things would never be the same. When you found him ten years later, he was the one who told you the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker, who he had become .
“You are heartbroken.” His voice cut through your thoughts. The weight of his force presence lingered in your mind, reading your emotions like an open book. “A real Jedi should not be so attached to the past.”
“You’re one to talk.” You moved your hand to the hilt of your lightsaber, clipped to your belt. He had a lot of nerve to say that, knowing how he was. Remarkably, he had not changed in the slightest - testing your patience without trying. “Considering what you’ve done.”
Your cautious movement did not go unnoticed. “This is not a fight you can win.”
You undid the clip, wrapping your hand around the hilt. Eyes narrowed, you watched for any sudden movements on his part. The pad of your thumb brushed the button, waiting. He remained still, almost conveying a calm countenance but you knew better. Through the Force, his signature lashed with every negative emotion conceivable, the foremost being resentment.
“You being here doesn’t leave me much choice.” You took a fighting stance, broadening your shoulders as you did. “I know what you came here to do and it wasn’t for a reunion.”
“Prepare to lose, then.”
Prepare to lose .
Prepare…
You froze, hearing the words repeat like clockwork in your mind. They took you to a time you had since buried in your heart. The wind picked up, pulling leaves from the branches above. They hovered and descended over your forms. As the leaves spun and danced, gracefully passing him, you blinked, and no longer did the embodiment of hatred stand before you.
Anakin lowered himself into a fighting stance, the practice sword poised in front of him. He offered a cocky smile, his chin drawn down to appear smug. With a laugh, he awaited his master’s signal, but not before taunting you. “Prepare to lose.”
Blinking again, a blurry form lunged at you. Your heart leaped to your throat, igniting your lightsaber. Rather than the blocky sound of wood clashing, a deep hum resonated as you blocked his attack. Red and green bounced off the surface of a black mask, its respiration getting lost in your flashback.
Is that the best you got? From the recesses of your mind, laughter sprung forth.
You stepped back and made the next move. Swiping your lightsaber at his right side, he blocked it.
This might actually be a short fight.
Sweat beaded at your temple. You sent a flurry of attacks his way. Each expertly dodged and parried, ever the duelist. He clearly had not dropped his training, unlike you. Your moves came stiff, raw; your years in hiding numbed your ability. Muscle memory could only do so much for you.
You can do better than that.
Your sparring partner from your padawan years laughed, sweat lining the hairline on his forehead. Chest heaving, you swung again. He let the fight go on, no desire to end it. With all the ability to make this swift and short, he would let it go on. It wasn't over until you tired yourself first. Dodging your next strike, you stumbled past him and let out a frustrated groan.
“Your attachment to the past will be your undoing.”
The jarring voice that did not belong to the young padawan broke you out of your stupor. Turning on your heel, you barely managed to raise your lightsaber and block. The heat of the red saber inched toward your shoulder as he pressed down. Your face pinched in stress, struggling with his weight. Putting all your force on your front foot, you pushed yourself forward and shoved him back.
In an effort to create more distance, you took two steps back. Adjusting your grip on your hilt, you breathed laboriously. Your thoughts whirled throughout the fight, dreading the eventual loss. Anakin always won. On the brink of fatigue, you knew how the rest of the battle would play out.
Darth Vader stood straight, waiting for you to make a move. His lightsaber poised to the ground, he left himself completely open. A trap, you knew. He would not bait you.
You took in a sharp breath, shaking your head. In the blink of an eye, Anakin took his place. He looked down at you and twirled his saber like it was second nature. Spun it around his back before repositioning himself into an unguarded stance and teasing you - goading you - into his final attack. He toyed with you, abiding his time.
Just like all the spars before, when you knew you had little fight left in you, your thumb pressed the button on the hilt. The hum of the lightsaber silenced. You tossed the hilt aside into the underbrush around the trees and stared down what remained of Anakin.
“I won’t fight you.”
So be it, if you had to die. All you asked was that he made it swift. You held no regret, bittersweet to know you would die at his hand. Never did you hope to reunite with him, not this man, but…you could live your final moments knowing somewhere in him, Anakin remained.
“You don’t want to avenge all that you lost?” For a question, his tone morphed it into a rather taunting statement.
You shook your head. Your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly from the rush of a fight. It had been too long since you used a lightsaber. Especially on your partner. You looked into the lenses of his mask, willing some way for his eyes to reveal themselves to you. Your tone grew soft, bitter but accepting.
“I still have you.”
The underbrush to the side rustled and swayed. In a flash, a silver blur flew up from it and thrust itself at you. Just as you held out your hand to catch it, the green light ignited. You turned your face from Vader’s to it, eyes wide. Its searing heat hovered inches from your face.
All too bright, so blindingly bright it gave you a headache, you closed your eyes. The loud hum buzzed its warning to you, alerting you that it was too close. It only needed a push and you would be dead. The bright light burned through your eyelids. Rooted to your spot, you sucked in a breath. Somewhere in the blur of light, you only saw Anakin’s smile.
“That boy is dead ,” Darth Vader sneered with venom. The snap of twigs and undergrowth beneath gave away his step toward you. “Take your weapon and fight me.”
“Fight me,” Anakin taunted. He twirled his saber, gesturing to yours across the room. “I won’t attack if you’re unarmed.”
“If he truly is gone,” you started and opened your eyes. The saber lowered from your voice, poised over your heart. Darth Vader’s hand shook in contempt as it stretched out, holding your own weapon to you. “Then, strike me down.”
His fingers curled a minuscule amount, each word spoken in barely contained rage. “Take your weapon.”
You saw it now. In Darth Vader, you saw Anakin. Angered that you would toss your weapon and throw the fight rather than see it to the end. To the end, he saw fit, anyhow. No good duelist would go down so quickly. You saw how his face morphed, the braid brushing against his clenched jaw as he ordered you to pick it up and take your loss the right way.
“I won’t fight you.” You crossed your arms and raised your chin. Anakin disengaged his saber, dropping his stance to stand like a pouting child. Well, you were both being childish. “We both know you won. It’s over.”
“You would rather die dishonorably .” The vocoded voice came across as more of a statement than a question.
If you had been back at the temple, two young padawans would turn to the side to see a disappointed master cross his arms. Disapproving of the behavior of both padawans, regardless of who started it. If you could go back in time, you would see him shake his head at you both. Instead, you were alone with your opponent with no master to disappoint. Only accompanied by your sparring partner, aggravated by your lack of etiquette for a proper duel. Even knowing this would be your end, you found it funny in a rueful way, to annoy him one last time.
“I don’t care if you’re tired. Pick it up.”
“I don’t understand why you’re stalling.” You narrowed your eyes. “You can get it over with right now.”
Anakin stormed up to you, whisking your lightsaber into his open palm. He held it out to you, his face screwed in annoyance. “Just once, I’d like to fight you properly.”
The green light shrunk back into the hilt and the lightsaber dropped pathetically to the ground. You glanced from it to Vader, who clipped his saber to his belt. He raised his hand and a weight formed around your neck. You gasped, feet dragged through the dirt and kicked aside your saber as he pulled you to him.
In the reflection of his lenses, your disheveled, choked form met your eyes. Vader curled his fingers in and the grip tightened. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe at all. Dots formed around the mask, darkness bleeding into your peripherals.
“You are weak. Always have been.”
In the next instant, you dropped to the ground. The weight lifted from you and you took a large gulp of air, touching your throat lightly. You lifted your head up to the sith lord. He simply looked down at you while his cape billowed behind him. Disdain radiated off of him in waves.
“Next time we meet, I will not show mercy.”
Next time, you better give me a proper fight.
Your eyes widened, shocked that Darth Vader himself would let you live.
Wordlessly, he turned on his heel and walked off. Your eyes locked onto his retreating form, headed toward the imperial speeder he took here. You slumped over, eyes glazing over with tears. His figure blurred and once again you saw Anakin. His robes rustled and his hair, longer in length, blew in the wind as he walked away from you.
You stretched a hand out to him, desperate to cling to the man you knew. To bring him back to you and apologize. Instead, you watched with regret as he climbed onto the speeder and took off from your little corner of the galaxy. Your hand fell into the dirt your head hung low, biting back tears. So close, he was, and yet so far.
“Next time we meet…”
This was the last time you saw Anakin Skywalker and your one and only encounter with Darth Vader.