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"Seduction", Part One

Darth Meltdawn

"I didn't want to live your fucking life!"

The dark young man raised one arm and objects flew off a tray to collide against the opposite wall.

"I wanted my mother, my wife!"

"Lay still," a soothing metallic voice chimed.

"Drug him further."

"It does not affect him, sir. I've anesthetized him thrice. The work must proceed." The ‘droid surgeon continued his repair of the burned and twisted body before it.

"He is fortunate, even if he does feel the pain. His hate is what almost got him killed. Now it is the only thing keeping him alive. Inform me of your progress."

"Yes sir."

The older man turned and strode from the bright sterile cubicle, his eyes not betraying one particle of empathy.

**

As he lay in a liquid state of anguish, the young man relived the lies that had brought him to this state. Only semi-coherent, the images came in powerful snippets.

Must deny her, but I love her. I cannot breathe!  You never told me I would have to kill. Why? If I was chosen, why? Don't take her from me! Not now! Betrayer! You call yourself friend? Teacher? I hate you! I hate all you stand for!

"Aaaaaaarrrrggggh!"

"Lie still."

The smell of cauterized flesh mingled with antiseptic. Whirrs of wind off small motors and snaps of metal clipping into place were the only noises in the small room. The tall, angular ‘droid stood over the man, enmeshed in his repair work.

Soon he would be finished. The human would be bipedal again and complete, thanks to robotics. In its advanced consciousness, the ‘droid had a glimmer of the irony of this task.

Several hours passed before the surgeon called the older man.

"I am preparing to activate his independent respirator. Once I release the life support clamps, he will be free of restraint and I suspect, given all previous indications, that he will immediately struggle erect."

"I will come to assess and rectify the situation."

"Yes sir."

The older man left his quarters and headed for the surgeon's. He knew the young man would be at once furious and still in self-torment over his recent battle and loss. In a very short time, that would lapse into despair and exhaustion because of his physical condition. The mechanics would be difficult to bear at first, but in time would make him more powerful than he could imagine. An apt pupil…

The door slid open. The young man sat on the table. Fists clenched on its sides, partly in anger, partly for stability. Black pressure wraps covered his extremities. When he saw the Emperor come into the room a quizzical expression crossed his face. He could somehow remember him being there, in these last few eons of torment, but he didn't know why. A piece of the puzzle didn't fit.

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit." His hunched shoulders and tight neck attested to it.

"Can you walk?"

"I guess I'll fucking find out." He lowered his weight off the table. Challenge taken and well-met.

"How long have I been laying there?"

"Oh, days, I would say. It might well have become your final bed."

"Spare me the lecture. I think I'm paying enough."

The Emperor cackled, like a gleeful child. It was in a tone the young man had never heard before. Was everybody changing now, or just him?

"Oh, this is rather novel! He makes conquests of Jedi masters and Emperors now! How bold, how brave! Tell me young warrior, how is it you came to rise from that pit?"

Through a furrowed brow, the young man dutifully pondered this. Then his eyes widened in amazement as the image of his savior clarified in his mind. The Emperor! He had levitated him out of that burning hell. He had Jedi powers!

"Not Jedi, my son. Sith. There is a distinct difference."

At that reference, he remembered a dark figure from his youth. An awesome and terrifying presence whom, he was told, had killed the only man willing to give him his due in life. At the time his hate and fear of that demon drove him to his Jedi studies fervently. He had to overcome that immobilizing terror. Now, with the tables turned, he understood what also must have driven the demon.

And then he thought of the Emperor. Uncertainty and revulsion mingled in his mind. He had been there the whole time… probably orchestrated the entire downfall of the Republic, from manipulating entire races in war to the internal corruption of the galactic government. The man had also been his personal benefactor, ever since leaving Tatooine. But now he was revealed as his sworn enemy. Or was he?

"I don't understand."

"Ah, then there is much to learn. Always the Council has corrupted your mind to serve their goals, fight their fight. I watched, admittedly in frustration. A man such as yourself must learn these truths on his own, he cannot be told the ways of things and just accept them. Always he must study and adapt."

The young man couldn't be sure if this was flattery or truth. So he reserved judgment until later. Which proved the Emperor's point.

"Here." They stopped before a chamber door, which slid open. "Rest for a while, recover your strength. Whatever you require will be brought. Later, when you are stronger, we will discuss your future."

The young man frowned. "I am tired of being a pawn. You have saved my life, more than once, Emperor, and I thank you. But I won't be yours either. I'm sorry, but you've got to understand that I am a Jedi… no matter what I feel right now. I'll always be a Jedi." The morose finality of it weighed tormentingly upon his soul.

The older man smiled. "So full of assurances you are! You've always been a strong one, I admire your conviction." With that he reached up and put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "But, my young Skywalker, the road ahead is just as you have always foreseen it. You know it to be true. Now you must search your heart and find what drives you. The hate is strong, but it only fuels your actions. Your fear is the true power; it is still there. Nothing you have done has wiped it away. It is time you finally face the one demon you have yet to conquer: yourself."

Overwhelmed and exhausted, the battered man crawled into the bed and passed out under the weight of heavy blankets and his own impending destiny.

**

As the conscious-numbing medication wore off, his emotions grew sharper.

Events which had recently transpired grew gargantuan in torment. He could bear the physical pain — years of conditioning would see to that — but his mental state was fragile and rapidly deteriorating.

Ever since the senseless death of his mother, things had been different. He somehow knew in the back of his mind that this was supposed to happen, and though it was horrible, he did nothing to stop it. The unseen hand of fate guided his triumphs and his tribulations.

He had returned to Tatooine, not long after becoming a Jedi. He had vowed to do so. He bought his mother's freedom and took her aboard his ship as the first step of her new life. They would be a family again, and his new wife would give her grandchildren to nurture and spoil. The last memory of his mother was not her burdened but beautiful face weathered before its time when they were reunited, but of her brain exploding in a bloody tangle of gray matter as his ship strained out of the planet's atmosphere. They never found the doctor who lied about removing her slave locator.

Right now that gruesome image flashed in his own mind, all too real. He remembered cleaning the rotting filth up, laying what remained of her body in a sleeping bunk, and silently heading home to Coruscant.

"Arrgghh!"

He tried to sit up, to clear his head of this anguish, but his body protested. His now metal fingertips clacked on the bed frame. The constant whirring of the artificial respirator in his chest threatened to drive him mad.

Why did they do this? Why did they bring him back? Now he was not even human, couldn't function on his own. He had fought his master and lost, terribly.

His crushed ego, loss of honor and the hate which had been the catalyst all waged a war for dominance. Obi-Wan obviously was not powerful enough to defeat the man who had saved his life, that was plain as day. What could his wife possibly have seen in the man?

And with that stream of thought, came the image of the two in bed together, betraying his trust. They swore it had never happened, but what was felt between them was completely obvious to him. He had been a good man and a good husband. He knew this wasn't his doing… or was it? He had been driven as if possessed through his studies. All those years of training missed in his childhood were painfully evident, and his desire to fulfill his perceived destiny eclipsed all other personal needs. So maybe he could understand his wife's loneliness. But he could never forgive his teacher. His teacher. Never.

And alone in his own private hell, he wondered at his battle loss. His hate had driven him to fight. He was never shown how to deal with its power when it raged to the surface, and that omission had nearly cost him his life. Now his focus became quite clear. What did the Emperor say? Face the one demon you've left to conquer…

**

Many days passed. He discovered the company of ‘droids to be superior to that of humans. Humans couldn't meet his eyes. Apparently they saw something disturbing there. Or maybe it was just his misshapen features.

Skin would never grow back over parts of his body because most of it was destroyed. He still felt all the sensations skin provided, though mechanically regulated, but it would have made no difference. His black pressure wraps were fashioned into an entire suit that he could put on and take off easily. As the pain subsided and he became more familiar with this shell to which he'd been consigned, he also began to learn its strengths. And that's when he realized his new superiority.

He ached to be again in that hell-hole, confronting that betraying son of a bitch, but patience is a virtue. He knew that one day, however far away, he would exact his revenge.

Through time and meditation, his mental state balanced. The hate was still there, but he was learning how to control and manipulate it. The Emperor was teaching him, in essence replacing his previous master. But he didn't have trust yet. The Emperor didn't trust him to handle the burden of power he was capable of, and neither did… he.

Ah, the name. Skywalker was no more. He should have admitted that to himself long ago. His vain and self-aggrandising wishes to procreate and show his progeny that there could be a better way had been destroyed after his final return to Tatooine. The last of his family, with an estranged wife and no real knowledge of a homeworld, cast his lineage in a festering light. His hierarchy wasn't given by birthright, so now it must be made.

Lord. He had heard the term applied to himself among the Emperor's men. And a character from one childhood story kept haunting his dreams at night. Or was it a song? He couldn't be sure, all he knew was that his mother's voice echoed it.

"In from the night, from the sky, from the sea,
The Vader will come, you will see, you will see."

He pushed a button on a console. Moments later the door slid open and a bipedal C unit shuffled in.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Vader."

"What is a ‘vader’, sir"

He cracked a smile. "I am a Vader."

"Ah, I see, sir. Lord Vader."

Lord Vader. It wasn't his mother's voice saying it now. From this point on, it would never be uttered with less than awe and utter respect. The universe would echo it and armies would fall before it in fear.

Lord Vader.

**

The beast ran through the septic netherworld of the city-planet as if simultaneously being pursued by captors and eagerly seeking a lover's hideaway. Blood-matted hair clumps still stuck to its claws. Its foul breath reeked of sweet gray matter and female excretion. Intermittent shafts of light illuminated its bald pate. Dark, bulging eyes penetrated the deep shadows in its path.

A twelve year old hominid had just been stolen from her parent's side and only minutes later was discovered in street drain. What was left of her. She had literally been eaten from the inside out, beginning with the part of her meant for but never having experienced the opposite sex.

The beast slowed to a trot and, satisfied that it had not been pursued, crawled into a dry vent shaft. It lay on the shaft's stone floor and relived the past hour, its gnarled body writhing in ecstasy. Its scent, mingled with it's victims’, wafted up the corridor.

The beast stilled and opened its eyes. A primeval force was drawing it up the corridor. It was as if a creature like itself were silently calling. It cautiously but curiously heeded. Could there be another like itself? Another who would relish its depraved appetites?

The beast reached an opening into an old, large fan chamber, where it could finally stand erect. Its greedy orbs penetrated the darkness to reveal a figure waiting. For some reason, even its superior eyesight could not detect but the outline of its host. The only sound aside from the low hum of the city above was the beast's wet smacking mastoids.

Come closer… the figure goaded. The beast could sense the figure's anticipation. He stepped forward, quite confident of it's own strength and reflexes, yet still out of reach.

What have you done tonight? Please show me…

The beast unfurled its claws to reveal bits of flesh and scalp impaled there. It rotated its palms up to the figure to share its sick glee. It projected its thoughts as easily as a child, starting from the moment it had seen the last girl.

The beast, overjoyed to find another so obviously excited by its conquest, let out everything. The struggling of small limbs in it's grasp; the shrieks that sent tingles down its spine; the trickle of warm, musky juices rolling between its jagged incisors and over its tongue. The figure quietly listened.

At the conclusion of the tale the beast expected some sort of congratulatory response, but nothing ensued. It became angry, having shared something so wonderful to an ingrate. And it also realized the paralyzing fog in its mind.

Furious, it leapt forward with clawed fingers opened and outstretched to impale yet another victim.

The figure stepped out of the shadow and effortlessly grasped the beast by the throat as it hurdled towards him full-force. He held it disdainfully at arm's length off the ground. Still, the beast's decaying breath invaded his nostrils. He took a long, measured sniff.

The beast clawed futilely at the fist around its windpipe, its talons scraping and clinking upon metal. Its now doubly-bulging eyes sought mercy from its assailant but only met the stoic gaze of an armored death-mask. For the first, and last, time in its life, the beast knew fear. The figure coldly regarded the final thoughts and jerky reflexes of the beast as its brain finally fizzled out from lack of oxygen.

**

"Get a damn legion, I don't care! Shit like this doesn't happen in my sector!"

The commander on duty had his officers frantically scrambling to and from the makeshift headquarters established in the underground utilities network. The thick walls and nature of the shafting made it near to impossible to locate the Salokoyan murderer. His frustration made him edgy.

"Any word from Johanssen and his team? Somebody patch me up a damn comlink!"

"Sir, we've got a sighting down in Tunnel Eight… they're reporting back now!"

"Well then get me through to — WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

A huge man in black armor with flowing robes strode around the corner and straight for him. The commander wasn't a religious man, but he found himself suddenly praying for protection. Secondarily, he noticed the man was dragging something of twice his bulk effortlessly, and six or seven officers were buzzing after him like insects, struggling to keep up.

The black knight halted before the commander and his robes silently fluttered to his sides. Then he dropped his gory possession to the ground with a thud. The officers attempted to haul the carcass away. They acted as if they were retrieving fallen items from a fire, so afraid of this man they were. The commander could only look from the dead Salokoyan to the man before him for a brief second, then he would rather divert his eyes back to the ghastly beast.

A deep, booming voice began to speak, and all motion in the corridor ceased.

"Commander, I believe you will have no need to persecute this man for his crimes. His sentence has been duly set… and executed."

"Yes, my Lord!"

"The Emperor will reward your efforts. Your operation here," he glanced around for the first time, "has been adequate. No need to reprimand your men for not catching a felon far above their intellects."

The commander eagerly accepted the insult.

"Make sure the families of the victims have been notified." He turned on his heels and strode back up toward the city surface, leaving a quiet, awed hush in his wake.

"Yes… Lord Vader."

**

Having returned to his quarters within the High Government Sector, Vader meditated. Soon he would meet with his master to discuss the recent events, which were all a part of his training. He was discovering the dark to the light. How much power was wasted by denying it! All his years in training to be a Jedi hadn't stopped some of the most devastating things from happening. If anything, those years had sheltered him from the hard realities of life. It had been so long since he'd felt hunger pangs or the lashes from a whip. Sometimes he longed to be that slave back on Tatooine…

The Emperor awaited his prized student's presence. It hadn't taken much for him to see the true path. He was finally beginning to trust the young man. So much potential was there… so much power… It needed tempering, but before one could know moderation, one must know excess. Vader's transformation was about to become complete.

A faint chime sounded and the Emperor's apprentice entered his chamber. Upon facing him, Vader bowed low.

"A most excellent entrapment, my son!" Palpatine rose to greet him.

"Thank you for your acknowledgment, Master." Again Vader bowed.

"I'd like to discuss your reactions to such a malevolent creature. Tell me first how it was to lure him to you." The Emperor was aware of the delicate balance to his student's sanity he now presented. This would be the ultimate test.

A now helmetless Vader reflected upon the first moments of his encounter in the sewer. He began in a very analytical tone. "Well, it wasn't difficult to locate him. His mind was screaming in glee and his pride was like a torch in the darkness. His stench alone should have alerted the officers."

"Smelled foul, did he?"

"Like he rolled in something." They both chuckled.

Palpatine asked, "How did you know he'd come to you?"

"That was easy… actually, I just knew he would. He wanted desperately to share his experiences." Vader began to look uncomfortable.

"His experiences." The Emperor let him relax for a moment. He walked slowly about the room, seemingly pondering the situation. When his student exhibited signs of calming, he proceeded in a nonchalant manner.

"You allowed him to."

"Yes, master, I did. At first I thought I was letting myself do it to gain his trust, to get closer. Then I…I…" He was at a loss for words and embarrassed.

The Emperor urged him on. "Go on. You wanted to know. You wanted to see what could be so intoxicatingly urgent to someone whom would act upon it."

Vader now searched his master for any clue to the morality of his action.

"Morality?" he spit. "Did you go see the child's parents, experience their torment? No. And the reason you didn't is because you've already been there. You know that side of the agony. You had to taste this, to know if it were real, and to discover its power!"

Vader hung his head. Two emotions were conflicting in his head. One was a vestige of respect and awe for life in its many edifices. The other was the dawning realization that he had tasted power over life. And it was incredibly strong...

"Feel THAT!" the Emperor commanded. "Yes! YES! Now you understand!

There are two sides, and you must recognize them! Murder exists in the minds of innocents just as love exists within the minds of rapists. No man is pure, NO MAN! And therein lay the true strength and the true weakness. Only the strong will admit to the dark and harness this… the weak will hold to dogmatic principals, afraid of what might bring them to their knees, and denying it to their graves!"

The Emperor wove a masterful web of new understanding and guidance for his apprentice. The young man's mind began to reel with the headiness of the revelations, and the air about the room crackled with electricity. Vader soaked it all in, relishing each sentence, feeling each nuance, and above all, comprehending this new truth. The power he had forsaken was at his fingertips.

Finally. He would now learn to conquer all of his demons. Fear became his ally.

He was stunned at the overwhelming strength of this power. He was not stunned to feel a longing ache deep inside his gut and to feel a bulge at his groin.

So this was seduction…

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