VIII. Vader

The Sith almost choked. "What?" He stared at the boy in disbelief. Of all the stupid things…! "Whatever made you think that? Anakin Skywalker, if you really do not know who your father is, your mother and your teachers have done a very poor job indeed."

It was almost agonizing to see the boyish giggles dissolve. "Right," Anakin muttered, blushing to his eartips. Then, after a brief pause, "I still wish I had a real dad, flesh and blood, like everybody else."

Ah, yes. To be normal, like everybody else. Vader felt a bite of remorse for his outburst. "Young one," he said softly, "why would you want something as common and ephemeral as that? Real people die, they leave you; whereas the Force is always with you. It is always your ally, never betraying you, always near at hand when you need it. Real fathers may hurt their sons, and real sons betray their fathers."

The boy frowned. "I don't believe that. Mum would never—"

"Mother was different!" Vader snapped sharply; but seeing the young one flinch, he immediately pulled back, sighing. "We were talking about fathers."

He was not even sure why he wanted so desperately for Anakin to understand or believe that — perhaps to prepare the boy for his future, so that he would not be hurt so much. "I... know a man who also has a son. Their world is at war, and the father and son are on opposing sides. The father is a military commander and each time he heads his troops against the enemy, he knows his own son will be facing him." Anakin listened in rapt attention. "Recently they met up with each other. The—the father wanted his son to join him, to put an end to the war. But the son was stubborn, he wouldn't listen. He pulled a lightsabre against the father. They fought. He cut off his son's hand. So you see—"

"My father wouldn't."

"Pardon me?" Vader was almost dumbfounded at the bold interruption.

Anakin shrugged. "My father would never hurt me. I guess, my father would, that is, if I had a father, he would be a lot like me. Um… does this make sense?" Vader nodded. "And, I would never, never ever do anything like that to my son."

He smiled ruefully at the boy's naivete. "And what makes you think so?"

"Because he'd be my father. He'd love me as I am, no matter what I believe in or on whose side I fight, because he is my father and we are family! And I would love him too, no matter what," Anakin declared vehemently.

"Even if he were your worst enemy?"

"He'd be my father first!"

Vader wanted to scoff at that. He really did. But the image of a young man choosing death rather than to acknowledge him as his father was burned into his mind. "You know absolutely nothing!" he hissed venomously.

"I know enough. I know my mother loves me. And if I had a father, my father would love me too. And if I had a son, I would love him like my mum loves me." Anakin's voice rose gradually until the last words were practically shouted.

Mum loves me.

My beautiful son.

It took the greatest effort to stifle the emotions that were threatening to spill out. Images of Shmi dying in his arms, Luke plunging down the shaft, Padmé, Obi-Wan, Tatooine and Coruscant and Naboo and Bespin, swirled chaotically in his mind. I would love him — Oh, if only it could be so simple! Had he really ever felt that way, was it possible at all to feel that way? A long suppressed memory of the day Qui-Gon had taken him away and Mother had stood at their door, hugging herself—

No, no, no, all lies, this boy was confusing him! All it had brought him was pain and destruction, every single person he had ever cared about had weakened him and betrayed him. There was a reason why the Sith never loved. The Dark Side was safe. Ruthless, yes, but just and safe.

"You know nothing, young one," he repeated flatly. "The Sith do not love."

"S—Sith?"

Anakin had risen, his eyes huge and dark with betrayal.

Angry at the boy for being stupid, and even more angry at himself, Vader felt a perverse pleasure as he straightened up, staring back levelly. "That is what I said."

The boy had admirable self-control, he had to give him that. There was no screaming, no childish fits or tears. He simply nodded and stalked to the door.

On the doorway the boy turned and said levelly, "I know who you are, Mr Vader. And I will never, ever, turn to the Dark Side!"

And then he turned and ran.

It was like a cold shower to the dark lord. What a confounded mess! Indeed, he was weak, like his Master had always said! He slammed a palm against the mirror.

"Anakin Skywalker, come back here this instant!"

But of course, the footsteps didn't even falter, retreating ever further. And with unease Vader noticed that the image of the other-room had begun to blur. He could still see the unmarred perfection of the other side, but it was becoming ever more vague, being gradually overlaid with the reflection of the real, present-day Theed. The bright presence that was Anakin Skywalker was moving ever farther, becoming more and more muffled.

No! He couldn't let it happen! Frantically Vader pulled the Force to him, putting all his being into it and letting his fury give it direction. There! Vader let the Force wrap tightly around Anakin's memories of the past couple of days and — yanked.

The last thing he heard was a body falling down the stairs. Then the mirror shattered in a spectacular shower of glass.

The sun was still shining serenely when the Sith returned to the shuttle. A blinking light on the comm panel signalled a message, but that could wait. He contacted the bridge of his flagship.

"Any news, Captain?"

"None, Lord Vader. All's quiet."

"Thank you. Stand by for my return."

"Yes, sir."

Apparently, the galaxy had not changed; all was as it should be. After all, how many things could be changed by the recovery of a once-forgotten memory? And were the simple words, "I would love him like my mum loves me," really worth all that trouble?

The Sith Lord had no answers to that. He only knew he wanted his son by his side. Shaking his head ruefully, he strapped himself into the pilot's chair and engaged the engines. Darth Vader's vacation was over; he had things to do and no time to mull over inane things like magic mirrors.

Fin-