A/N #1: I do not own Star Wars, but I do so enjoy playing in George's Galaxy.

A/N #2: I again hold overwhelming gratitude towards my very competent beta reader, "Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu." Her invaluable critical eye, suggestions, and patience are truly appreciated.

It Was Finished
By CWBasset

It was finished.

He looked down at his handiwork and scowled at the poor construction of it. The padded material he had used for the handgrip was to his usual liking, but he could easily discern the uneven layering of the wrapping. The metal shaft was thick and far cruder than its predecessors. The hastily welded seams were clearly visible, with beads of cooled solder bubbling along the joins. This one fell far below his prior standards of excellence—but "all things change with time."

It would do.

He closed his eyes as he remembered back to when he had constructed his first one. It would always remain his favorite. He had been twelve. His Master had cautioned him to be patient, but that was never part of his temperament. He had pushed aside meals, lessons, and training—he would have gone without sleep if allowed.

Even though he did not have the refined skills that only experience could provide, that initial effort had been a near perfect work of art. The joins had been sanded together so smoothly, one could not visually find their junction. The controls were finely tuned, and the plasma beam had been both bright and steady. There may have been a slight imbalance of the hilt, with the base being a tad heavier, but even Master Yoda had thought his craftsmanship had been far above the norm.

Despite sustaining some damage along the way, it had lasted for almost three years. To date, that had been the record.

It was still painful to recall how he had lost it on Zonama. Although their mission had been successful, all he could remember was being horrified and grief-stricken as he watched his only allowed possession tumble away from him and disappear into the crashing ocean. Overwhelmed by the moment, he had been too distraught to call it back to him before it fell out of range.

Pity.

He had lost count after that as to how many others he had built. Some of them had contained blue crystals, while with others he had used green. The color of crystal had not been important to him.

Not then.

Through the years, he had become quite proficient with their construction just due to the near-constant need to replace them. His Master would often lecture him as to his habit of destroying or losing them. Despite his efforts to the contrary, he could never seem to keep one for very long.

The last one that he had lost…

He would never forget that one either.

It had been elegant and finely crafted, and he had possessed it for nearly a year. It had brought victory in the light and devastation in the darkness. It had served to avenge his enemies, had acted as the catalyst to his own destruction, and had—with its final wielding—sealed his fate...

Forever.

Despite his helpless state at the time, he could still clearly remember his old Master picking up the scorched metal shaft from the sand and walking away with it. Whether the man's intent was to retrieve a memento of victory or to emphasize the point that his one-time Padawan was no longer worthy to wield such a hallowed object, he would never know. It was fitting, he reflected darkly, that he no longer possessed it. He was not the man who had constructed it.

Not anymore.

He pulled himself from his reverie and focused his damaged eyes on the new metal shaft which he held in his new metal hands. This weapon would be different. This saber would bring fear and loathing to those unfortunate enough to fleetingly gaze upon it. This blade would be a harbinger of death and destruction. This sword would vanquish the light and bring darkness to all that stood in its way.

As would he.

He curled his lips into a sadistic smile, the motion causing pain to shoot through the ravaged flesh and muscle of his ruined face. He relished the feeling—gathered the agonizing sensation into what had once been his heart to fuel his ever-burning rage.

With no further thought, Darth Vader touched the control switch and ignited the fiery crimson blade of his new lightsaber with a snap-hiss.

It was finished.