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Author	Topic: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
pashatemur Registered: Jun '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 5:42pm Subject: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV - Date Edited: 7/10/05 9:48pm (35 edits total) Edited By: pashatemur
	As requested, here are links to the JOURNAL ENTRY POSTS: PART I: MUSTAFAR - END BY BEGINNING, BEGIN BY ENDING FORM AND THE THRESHOLD part 1 of 2 http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p0 FORM AND THE THRESHOLD part 2 of 2 http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p2 SMOKE AND MIRRORS http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p3 THE FALL http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p4 ENLIGHTENMENT http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p5 SAND AND SHADOW http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p6 STRIKE http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p7 WISE LOVE http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p8 PART II MY INSTRUCTION DETOUR http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p9 PASSION http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p11 THE STICKING POST http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p12 SAI CHA http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p13 NECESSARY LOSSES http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p15 NEGOTIATION http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p16 MY FATHER/MYSELF MY FATHER/MY ENEMY http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p17 I don't know what kind of life this thread will have, however the posting of this series of "journal entries" has proven a labor of love the which have taken 4 years and more to write. Posting them signifies a very big step for me and I offer these very humbly with all the usual disclaimers as to the source material and property of George Lucas and his interests. I'd also like to thank all of you who have encouraged me to take this step, in particular, LadyZaraMarta. Additionally, my thanks to JW Titus, whose talent and tremendous work inspired me to participate in these Forums. This is a bit of a literary experiment and still evolving, and comments will be very much appreciated. The reader will find some accounts in 3rd person and most others in 1st. Here follows the life of Anakin Skywalker, Lord Darth Vader, in his own words: For my son and to young Jedi So, you have found this pitiful confession, my son, along with that other item. I have failed to obtain the object of over twenty years of bitter compromise. The sacrifices I made were empty. By documenting these thoughts, I have had to fight years of habitual security. However, by the time you find this, I have long since perished and you will have only your own credibility to protect. If this finds its way before the eyes of others, so be it. I believe you need this specific communication now. I would have loved you Luke, as now I do. I am sure you understand my lack of effusiveness such as could be expected from a father long separated from his son. Alas, I cannot call myself your father, for I was not present- not for you, and not for myself. I cannot ask for your forgiveness. It would be an insult. You will overlook my clumsy speech, as I have so much to say, and little time in which to say it. First, let me caution you, it is far easier to be the penitent dead than the guilty living. I have no illusion in this regard and neither should you be tempted to think on my memory as anything more than wretched. It is doubtful, had I survived, that I could have kept to the path of light after so many years of hate and self-loathing. Thus, this is a cautionary tale about settling for cold comfort and forsaking hope. At this writing, I am now free to say with some authority, having had first hand experience of it, that cold comfort is a very disagreeable portion. In point of fact, it is of negative value, and those who would be tempted by the bitter path must know that mine is the end to that way, and should read on. Do not be swayed however by my suggestion. For should you be inclined to approach this work with suspicion and misgiving, lest you be corrupted, then read with both eyes open. If you are inclined to believe that any word I have written, whilst committed with the best of intentions, must be by its source deceitful and twisted, then read with skepticism. For those who admire or are morbidly inspired, consume with a grain of salt. If you pity me, then read with distance. Should you read with ambition of the grand sort, you will find that which you seek or, rather, it will find you no matter how you interpret my words. Your only hope is to wake up. In any case, read on. Perhaps this tale will only serve to amuse. If that is the sole benefit of this meager work, then I shall have at least shown myself for what I truly was - a fool of the first order. A being may have eyes yet never see. There is no particular chronology to which I shall adhere as memory does not instruct us linearly. Perhaps something more can be learned from my inarticulateness. In any case, sometimes, the need for order is the worst undoing of the most felicitous mistakes. We should remember what lately passed in the name of order. Short hand for convenience does make assimilation easier, but it also starves creativity. So, I beg you, be brave enough to allow the universe to order itself, security comes not externally, but internally. Have not you heard these admonitions before? Now, on the possible eve of my death, I write in part for resolution, to settle my debts, to keep a promise, and in homage to hope-to you my son. Tomorrow I may be as dust, but free dust! And that gives me the greatest pleasure to read over again, for I am giving form to thoughts that I have long held sublimate. It is an incredible relief to finally let go all these forbidden children and let them float up freely like so many corks upon the sea. I am what could be termed gleeful, which is to say; I have found my triumph even as I have lost all. Sadly, however, there will be others as foolish as I. Thus, I will attempt to furnish you with the unvarnished truth, at least that truth which I saw. Let me beg pardon for showing myself in a better light than I should and for the disservice that I am bound to do my comrades and acquaintances when writing of them. These are, after all, mere words. If I were a better man, I could do justice by art. Alas, I am not, and learned only too late the value of a life lived in feeling. I am determined, however to relay as best I can the very costly lessons of a humble slave. Lord Darth Vader born Anakin Skywalker N.B.: It would be adding insult to injury and a great sin should I have signed as one or the other, for the truth is, I am both. PART I: MUSTAFAR END BY BEGINNING, BEGIN BY ENDING The Force allowed me the gift of sight, but not the ability to clearly interpret what I saw. I thought I should die poorly, and so I have. It did not begin that way. I loved and was loved by my tender mother. She did not behold me with fear or trepidation. I learned well how to love and give as she did. She was the best of teachers. Yet, you know my end. History however cannot indict her however it renders me. (Take care! You are curious and still reading aren’t you? While no mother believes she nurtures a monster, lessons once learned can be unlearned.) The past is not yet past, and thus, I seek the distance of third person. I reserve the right, however, to be both god and chorus. A TRUER WORD “Ani. Ani, wake up! You’re having that dream again.” Her hands were cool and comforting. He could hear her voice, but it was too pleasant to laze on. She was right. He had been dreaming, and a nasty dream it was at that, however he woke a minute before she worried over him. Now he enjoyed her attention. He clasped her little body with both arms and smiled. Still with his eyes closed against the morning light, he shushed her. “Sh, sh, I’m fine. Lie down here,” he muttered sleepily, “let’s not wake just yet.” “Ani, you can’t stay,” but Padme’s insistance grew markedly faint as she lay back down and nestled into the crook of his arm. “All right, just a little longer and then you have to go.” “Thank you, dear wife. Do suppose I might have a scrap or two to eat before I go?” “No!” “Shrew.” “Brute.” “Heridan.” “Monster.” THE FORTRESS The prosthetic was not responding. He tried his “good” arm. (“Good” was a particularly odd term with which to describe the appendage that seemed hopelessly limp at the moment.) It was restrained in a brace, as was the other. That much was discernable. Anakin thought wryly about his appreciation for irony. Though he seldom had a care for what others thought of him in a work-a-day sense, he considered how some would think this fall precipitous and sudden, rather than slow and deliberate. He attempted to wiggle a finger or two, but they were numb and slow to respond, or were they not there?! He hoped nothing imminent presented itself. Moreover, if he was not mistaken, he was feeling sorry for himself. Thinking on his "descent," he felt himself a victim in a tremendous bloody crash. He mulled over the past as if it was some unwanted memento to be discarded but with which he held a morbid fancy. He could yet have helped himself but for perverse pride. There were intuitions, feelings, visions, and signs of all sorts from the very beginning. At standard age 11 the boy thought upon meeting the Chancellor, "What an odd sort!" We seldom trust our feelings on these matters and Anakin had far too many distractions. He had lived among the Jedi only three standard years and his world had exploded to encompass more than a child's mind could assimilate. (I would never have admitted to such a thing, and sad that it has taken a lifetime to acknowledge that nature has its own rules. How many times I have run up against the wall of that phenomenon, and like a toy without benefit of intelligence, I was blind to the fact that I made little headway. Be that as it may, Palpatine was an odd sort. If I had known at the time how to interpret my visions, it is certain that I should have given voice to my fears. I, however, never turned down a challenge, whether explicit or implied. Yoda had said with such surety that I was full of fear, and I was determined to prove him wrong. "Deny my feelings, I did!)" I digress. Perhaps I should address the humor first. "Well, this feels pretty damn bleak! Either I’m dead and my soul doesn't know it yet, or I’m going to hate this immensely. I have a very bad feeling about this!” It was as if the material world had been pulled apart: no more essence, or form, or waves, only particles. All was peaceful until now. He had been pulled from the bubbling warm bacta tank and braced like an animal carcass hung up for sale. Every minute sound and every changing light overpowered, for want of a better word, his sensors. "Is this me?" and with that question he tried unsuccessfully reaching out his hand to scratch at an itch that was not there. “I’ll have to get use to that,” he thought as he watched two figures glowing reddish-orange and intensifying in color as they approached. “I’m blind as well!” he panicked. However, he was not. The mask and helmet which, now entirely encased his head, also included a vision enhancement unit. His vision was reduced, at present, all to a heat continuum. Having floated a long while in the bacta tank, the new configuration was extremely uncomfortable. Now the apparati needed to sustain his life were integrated into a suit and thence to his body, such as it was. He would have looked down at his body if his neck were not so stiff and head not heavy. The tank had been a serene place where he floated weightless feeling in a sterile environment. Now he felt impossibly weighted. “I suppose swimming is out of the question, now!” “Hoisted on one's own petard, as the saying goes – Ha, a literal application! So this is what that feels like.” He tried to laugh, unconsciously tossing his head, as had been his habit, causing a deep explosion of pain to shoot through his neck and spine. Anakin squeezed his eyes in agony upbraiding the burned surface of the corneas and touching off yet another series of such explosions. He worked hard to concentrate, to remove himself from the pain. However, when he was relieved of physical pain, his soul ached with an unbearably evil ad-mixture of hate and remorse. He decided the physical pain was better. He was testy, and with good reason. He opened his eyes again and tried to adjust to the VE unit. The figures were very near and he could hear them communicating in odd clicks and soft bleeps. The had no discenable thoughts and emotions. Anakin resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears. “Shut up, shut up, or I'll do you the final favor!” But the figures approached him in a way that seemed extraordinarily detached. Usually, Anakin thought, when two beings approach each other, even in familiarity, there is always a moment when each takes up a defensive stance. These two did not demonstrate such a response and seemed to have objectified him - he felt it. Look how they examine and probe my hand without so much as a ‘By your leave.’ Yet, the bitterness that consumed him must be palpable to these two, thought Anakin. “They can’t see my face. They approach me as if I am inanimate. I'm certain that's an advantage.” It mattered not. Hah! They were droid. Then, annoyed, he thought, “What reason have I to curb my anger?” “Yes, very good my apprentice.” Anakin flinched. Yes, his master spoke through the bond. “You have much to learn.” An image of some strange delicacy forced itself forward. "This is a bit like being wrapped in a lead blanket - soft, hot, obdurate, and apparently, permanent.” Anakin strained rather half-heartedly against the braces that kept him attached to his synthetic spine and held him aloft. He could hear his breathing, slow, mechanical, and measured a sort of whir and hiss. "So much for physical pride. Thus are the mighty… etc., etc., etc. Just count!" he told himself. He wanted to hurl something. It was insufferable. He could imagine Palpatine’s answer to his unasked question, and just as soon as the thought occurred to Anakin came the master’s voice again reverberating throughout his body, “My dear boy, did you hope to meet your reward?” Anakin screamed in agony. What was left of him, “Why did they even bother?” Anakin imagined himself like one of his many leisurely drawn cartoon bugs, only squashed on a rock under a burning sky, complete with extended tongue and X's for eyes. Disappointed to find he had survived the fall, he strangled a bitter laugh as the pain shot through his frame. Backing away suddenly, the two surgeons almost tripped on themselves. To regain their balance the two put out their hands seeking an anchor as they stood in wonderment -the “Giant,” for so they had named the patient, had been awakened. “Where… Where?” he attempted to speak, but his throat and vocal folds were horribly burned. “Where…” he tried again. He heard the voice, his own but with a slight buzz in the lower overtones. His lips met resistance and he could not feel them. The surgeons stared at him blankly. “Where…” he struggled again with frustration. “A Research Clinic,” answered one of the visitors cryptically. “You should refrain from speaking just now. All your questions will be answered after you’ve rested.” That answer did not suit him in the least. He could feel himself struggling. It was disconcerting; the pain was so intense that he began to plane out of his body. There was a dull static of noise as orderly droids, nurses, and the two surgeons flailed about trying to wrestle the Giant into restraints. ************ Anakin could hear his breath come more quickly, and yet eerily even. Each breath efficiently drawn and then efficiently exhaled. It was soothing in a way and put him in mind of the antique clock works which lined the walls and polished tables tops in Chancellor Palpatine’s residence in Coruscant. Something warm and soothing glided through his body. He listened to the breathing whir and hiss to a rhythmic calm. “Yes, that’s better. Rest now,” said the voice more quietly. Drowsily, Anakin’s mind and body drifted back down into the fog of anesthesia. Anakin thought himself a boy again in that cool dark residence, dwarfed by the massive blue granite columns that supported the soaring vaults 6 meters overhead. It was an opulent feast to a slave boy and especially after the austerity of the Jedi retreat with its sleek walls, spare cells and promontory situation. He let himself drift down into the memory. He was tired and the retreat helped him manage the pain. “Yes, sir, I would be honored,” his voice echoed in his mind. “Yes, sir, I would be honored,” he said in answer to the Chancellor’s request. “Climb up, dear boy, and fetch that large red volume at the end…" Having heard the request before it was voiced, Anakin had already hopped onto the glidder pad and was half way up the library wall reaching for the desired article. The tome was nearly as big as he, but Anakin brought it swiftly down. It was musty, cracked, and appeared to the 14-year-old as though the thick parchment pages were better suited for gloves so worn were the pages. The exterior was in such a dried state that the red tanned animal skins of dubious origin had flaked and powdered leaving a red stain down the front of his white linen jerkin. “Set it there on the desk" the Chancellor gestured. Upon arriving at the large ornately carved ebony desk, Anakin looked down at its surface seeking a clear spot, but the whole was littered with sealed formal document cases, data discs, and ancient manuscripts. Hefting the book on his raised thigh, Anakin glanced quickly round to assure himself that no one caught him smoothly mind-push the sundries aside. Carefully, he placed the red volume on the cool shiny surface. “Sir, a messenger has arrived from the outer rim. Shall I have him wait in the ante chamber or bid him return tomorrow?” The secretary had entered quietly, hardly noticed by Anakin until he spoke. The boy had begun to ration his attention. There were those to whom one gave one’s attention, and those whom one allowed to remain in the background. It was rather arrogant, Anakin thought. Still, it was a way to establish one’s authority. He was uncomfortable with some of the most transparent manipulations with which he was experimenting. Master Obi wan, his teacher, had cautioned him to examine his motives for playing “power games.” Anakin was aware that likely his life as a slave drove his desire to exercise power over circumstances and beings alike. Upon finding himself thinking on the bitterness of that past, he dutifully checked his progress and began to allow the feelings to dissipate. “Well, my young Jedi, I must attend to this matter," said Palpatine placing his cool hand upon Anakin’s sandy crop. “With respect sir, I’m not a Jedi yet.” “I am not yet a Jedi,” corrected Palpatine. “I am not yet a Jedi,” Anakin parroted under his breath. “Just as you say.” winked the Chancellor tugging sharply at the tiny braid that trailed over Anakin’s chest. The boy resisted the urge to say “Ouch" and “What did you do that for?” The Chancellor turned and glided from the library, saying as he did so “As always, you may remain as long as you like. It is so good to have a young person take a strong interest in culture and history. Only, remember, it is getting late, and I am sure your Master will be concerned if it is reported that you have been missing from the temple again. I wouldn’t want to cause problems.” Anakin bowed respectfully and smiled politely. He thought to himself, “I wish that I’d told him that I prefer that he not do that. He’s always doing that.” Then without thinking he muttered under his breath, “It is attached to my head!” He turned and scanned the room rubbing the eminent point of his ‘rat tail’ as he playfully called the braid. "'K'ai' Anakin, it's called a 'K'ai.'" Obi would say gently but firmly. "'Rat tail,' the boy would playfully pout back. His master, the now renowned General Kenobi had welcomed the Chancellor’s attentions toward Anakin. Obiwan Kenobi was often called away and he was concerned for his paduwan. Palpatine could expose the boy to diplomacy and the system by which the Galactic Republic was governed. Therefore, it was agreed that Anakin could serve as a sort of diplomatic intern. The boy seemed to enjoy the opportunities and grew in his knowledge of history, social theory and political science. Only lately, Master Obiwan had shown some resistance to Anakin’s involvement with the Chancellor. But the master did not voice his concerns, because thought Anakin; “he doesn’t understand what his objections are.” Quite recently, Anakin was late in returning to the Jedi temple causing the older knights some concern and earning Anakin a reprimand. So when the Chancellor cautioned him about returning on time to the temple, Anakin was annoyed that he should be found wanting. Glancing up he caught the Chancellor giving him a pointed gaze from over his shoulder as he cleared the doorway. “Good night, dear boy.” the Chancellor’s voice echoed back from the stone hallway. “He knows what I’ve found in his library and what I’ve been studying,” thought Anakin as a slight chill passed through him. “I wonder if he intends to mention it to Master Obiwan. Surely not! He seems to desire my continued presence as much as I desire access to this library.” This evening, however, Anakin was taken by a recurring impulse. As long as he could remember, and he remembered his own birth, Anakin loved to feel the wind in his face, to feel himself propelled through space. And so, he marked the page to which he wished to return with a bit of string and headed for the MPRT station to catch a transport to the fields in one of the small nature preserves of Coruscant. Once there he would ritually remove his boots, drop gracefully to the softly waving meadow grass and lie staring up into the atmosphere. The grass crushed under his long frame exuded a tender sweetness. He heard everything, the insects and birds, the wind, the leaves of grass whispering in his ear. His toes enjoying their freedom, he often thought “what a pity to ever wear shoes.” He could never have run around barefoot on Tatooine. It was far too hot. "Mom would be amused. ‘You can't stay neat for more than 10 minutes, and put your shoes on!’” Anakin remembered her doing that thing that all Mom's seem to do - spit on a little edge of clothing and “rub till your skin nearly came off.” But just then he wasn't annoyed, but sad that she wasn't sitting here beside him looking up at the same beautiful sky. No, she'd be returning from work this time of day, with work she'd brought home and piles of work waiting in Watto's shop for tomorrow. All her very own projects left on the table, unfinished. "Mom" he said softly, hoping somehow the force of his love would carry his voice to her. Anakin fervently prayed that she was all right, that life wasn't hard on her, and that she wasn't sorry she'd let him go, but deep down he knew the truth - that while their life together had been hard, they had had each other. Now he was gone, she was alone, with a greater workload, and he felt she was unwell. He knew she called his name. He couldn't think about it anymore. He'd written her and he'd asked about bringing her to Coruscant. But the answer always came back from the Council, "We're very sorry, but no." Anakin had begun to find work outside the temple for pay. "Very well, if they can't bring her back, I will buy her." After awhile, he stopped asking because Anakin could see that the Council took this as a negative measure of his progress, that he couldn't concentrate on his studies. Knowing that Obiwan had been allowed to take him as a paduwan only probationally, Anakin didn't want to jeopardize his master’s position. It was difficult because at the end of a very long day of study and exercise, all one wanted to do was sleep. He had discovered several "secret passages" from the temple. (They weren't really secret or passages. It’s just that Anakin had become very good at moving quietly.) When he was little, all of 5 years before, he used to pretend that he was escaping from tyrants. Once Obiwan had caught him in his game and cautioned him, "Be careful, lest you get stuck thinking that way." “He sounded like Mom," thought Anakin bemused. He pictured master Obi gotten up like a matron and chuckled softly to himself. Anyhow, he had managed to find odd jobs here and there. On Tatooine, Anakin had moved among some fairly seedy characters, so he knew how to fend for himself. Luckily, Anakin had fallen in with a caring old fellow who was willing to let him work at will. One evening Anakin had fallen asleep over a droid he was assembling and didn't wake till the second temple bell. It was a horrible sinking feeling, and he jumped over his worktable, sped from the doorway and raced through the grey littered alleyways up to the temple hill. As long legged as he'd become, he couldn't move fast enough. Upon arriving at his cell his heart nearly in his throat, he almost knocked his master over, and stopping in his tracks he looked all of puzzle at Obiwan who seemed to be holding back laughter. Anakin looked down and found that he was clutching a spanner and the left forearm of the droid he'd been assembling. Still, he had earned quite a bit. But not enough nearly to buy Schmi's freedom, and certainly not enough to buy her passage. And then he had to consider finding a home and food and clothing. He was not daunted, however. He didn't care about how long he had to work to procure and provide for Schmi, just that it meant she would have to bear such an existence longer. It didn't win him many friends, either. He was always focused and intense. He did have some friends though and that was enough. It was hard for the other paduwan's to understand him and Anakin didn't hold it against them. He was however impatient with them sometimes. Still, the blue sky spread out overhead, beautiful to all who cared to notice, and to saint and sinner alike. Anakin listened to his heartbeat and to himself breathe. Having cleared his mind he would rise, leave his boots and gear and run like a colt born to the race. Sometimes leaping and spreading his arms out, he hit his stride quickly and settling into a coordinated pace he would listen to his heart and strive to slow its rate while smoothing his gate. He loved to feel the blood pump through his legs and the wind rushing by his face, his feet hardly touching the ground. He was so close to flying. He dreamt it. He saw it. He felt it. There was such a thin barrier between being and being. "How very frail and tenuous our existence! We’re so close to the Force. It’s beyond feeling. Not beyond - but all the senses together, so that it can’t be explained through any one single sense. Like birth. Always, however, just when I’ve reached the veil that separates us from the Force, I haven’t the strength to go on." Pushing to continue, Anakin would collapse falling to the ground. He would rest on all fours till he regained his breath. He noted with dismay that we do indeed become what we fear most. "Without comprehending the magnitude of our seemingly inconsequential anxieties they become the directing factor toward our ends. So having set our sights on the obstacle, we keep the obstacle always before us." Anakin felt cold and numb now. He thought he should feel clammy as well, however a lining wicked away moisture from his skin. "I've been buried alive." But he still had a sense of smell, albeit limited, and that was unfortunate because his head injuries had apparently affected that faculty. Although there was a filter in the mask of the armor, Anakin realized that he would forever sense a faint smell of tannin, like green tea and rose hips or new pale wine. “Endless, endless floating, and endless nothingness…” said this Sith as he fought the pain that gripped him everywhere. The dull buzz of seared nerve endings and the sting of flesh and tissue that rejected the silicon and metal prosthetics that interlaced with the mangled torn remains of a once sound body were getting the better of me. In and out of consciousness I floated for days on end, alternately bitter and despondent. The room was quiet, he the only living being. “Who was that? Padme?” I thought she called my name. Those soft eyes! I reached out for her mind. “Where am I? How did you come here?” But she wasn't there or anywhere I could reach her - ever, ever, ever... THE CARROT AND THE STICK “You don’t seem to care much for Master Windu, Anakin,” said the Chancellor leaning down to whisper in my ear as we stood next each other in the ante chamber to the Council room. I was a young boy then, all those years ago, and Lord Sidious was the Supreme Chancellor of the decaying Galactic Republic, now defunct. I looked up in surprise to have the Chancellor speak in such a personal way. “Well, I suppose you could say that, sir.” I answered. “Hum, and why is that do you suppose?” “I suppose because I’m not humble, sir and Master Windu is especially concerned for my proper study.” The Chancellor laughed outright. “Lack of humility in the way of your refining, eh? Oh, that can’t be. I’m sure that you are a model paduwan.” The boy I used to be tilted his head in a respectful bow. “That is not for me to say, sir.” “You must forgive me, dear boy. I don’t mean to pry. Do you mean to say that Master Windu finds you lacking?” “No, not particularly. But I can’t speak for Master Windu,” said the boy sheepishly. He thought about how he had always harbored dark feelings toward the great master and Anakin was annoyed that he could not seem to understand or change them. “Yes, of course you are right. I didn’t mean to engage you in gossip. Of course anything you tell me in confidence will rest with me. Well, for my part, I must say that I find you a very apt pupil. You have learned well your duties as an intern, and you acquit yourself with a level of professionalism for which I must commend you. (His insidious words, not mine.) How could anyone find you lacking? You’ve practically devoured my library. I’m not certain I can keep you in books any longer. Surely, you’ve read everything accessible to you on my shelves, ney?” said Palpatine, gesturing with the back of his hand. I watched as the almost imperceptible flecks of powder rose from the surface of that cool and slightly knarled limb. I could hear my own breath and my own heart beat. There it was again, that sense of distorted time. How to describe it? Sometimes, when in the presence of the Chancellor, time seemed to stretch and peel away. This little boy looked up quickly. “What was he getting at?” the young paduwan thought, “for there’s a method at work, here.” “Don’t worry, dear. I know about the Sith archives.” My eyes must have widened though I strove to seem unconcerned. I felt ill at ease about this conversation from the beginning. “I thought, perhaps, that I should talk with you about this matter. I thought you might have some questions you wished to ask me.” “Questions, sir?” “Yes. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how I should come by such archives?” He must have seen how agitated I grew. Perspiration rose on my brow. Speaking about the forbidden text here outside the Jedi Council chamber begged trouble. The Chancellor was not speaking idly. “With respect sir, what do you intend by this conversation?” “Good, good, coming right to the point. I like that. I have no desire to bring trouble upon you, Anakin. On the contrary, I have the highest regard and the greatest affection for you, dear child. I don’t mean to presume, but if you can not think on me as a doting grandfather, then perhaps as a friend. These texts, however, you should have told me that you'd found them. Your master will think me remiss for having allowed you access without first asking his permission. I believe you know that you shouldn’t be reading them without guidance.” I lowered my head in hopes that somehow I could hide. “I’ll have to consider how to bring this up with your master. I’m afraid he won’t take this well. We’ll see. In the meantime," he said with mock parental sterness, "I shall have to restrict you’re access to them. Perhaps I can provide some assistance,” said the Chancellor “searching” for a solution. It was important for the boy to believe that the Sith had his best interests at heart, “I need to think about it though. You understand. I feel responsible. You must know that I have nothing but praise for you. It’s just that you should have come to me or brought this up with your master.” “Yes, sir. I intended to speak with you, but I…" I decided to retract my answer. “Please, Anakin I understand. You needn’t apologize. I'm sure you didn't mean ill but you have put me in a predicament. I tell you what!" said Palpatine with the kindliest face he could screw together, "Let me ponder the situation, and we two shall figure out how best to procede. I, myself, am familiar, as you know, with jedi study, and perhaps I can provide guidance ‘til we’ve mustered up the courage to speak with Master Obiwan, hmm? What do you say?” And not waiting for this boy’s reply, “Although, I’m sure I get somethings end on end. I’ve only common sense to guide most of the time.” The Chancellor doddered on until, I, annoyed and impatient, must have seemed to forget my perceptive misgivings. I was uncomfortable with this arrangement, but I was at a loss as to how to countermand the Chancellor. For the next several weeks, I found all sorts of reasons not to report for my intern duties. “Very good. The boy’s natural inquisitiveness and drive will lead him to me,” Sidious surely must have gloated. He had successfully baited me, this little Jedi and had begun alternately applying guilt and the "carrot"- power. "I should tell Master Obi, now. I'll go after this next session, after we've settled the treaty, and I'll tell him then." Yet, I found all sorts of reasons to be too busy to return to my internship, but soon the avoidance became embarrassingly obvious, and Obiwan, my much put upon master, grew impatient. "Anakin, is there anything you need to tell me?" "Yes, Master, only...can it wait till we're out of the Fiscal Session? I would prefer to speak to you in private," but the conversation would never take place. For as the Master and his young apprentice stood in the great ante chamber, the Chancellor approached with his entourage of secretaries and undersecretaries, and assistants to the assistant undersecretary, etc. (I should point out that while the Emperor liked to surround himself with the trappings of organization, there was generally very little organization. Usually an order was issued by the right hand and another by the left to contradict it. The minions were left to fight amongst themselves as to which was the preferred intent. In this way Palpatine ensured that his pretenders remained confused. Ultimately, no one person ever had a complete picture of his plans. Thus, this wall of officiators was merely an elaborate defense, a living wall that wove its own traps, and it, perhaps, was the only efficient mechanism in the Empire!) “Ah, General Kenobi!” said the Chancellor, hailing the Jedi and his paduwan, “I’ve been meaning, for sometime now, to speak with you.” “Yes, Chancellor, we may talk on our way…” “Oh no,” chuckled the statesman, “it isn’t official. Small talk, really. No, no, you see, it’s about young Anakin.” (I think that I must have looked like a bantha trying to squeeze under a rock. “Surely, he wouldn’t address my transgressions, there in public.” I thought. Fine! Good! Public humiliation! There are worse things.) “Oh, dear me, Master Kenobi, no,” the Chancellor breathed, seemingly winded by my Master’s energetic gait. Nodding his head towards his ever-present entourage, “No,” and looking down at me he smiled wryly, “No, I just wanted you to know what a model intern he has made of himself.” “Thank you, Chancellor, I’m glad to hear Anakin has met with your favor.” Turning toward me, Obiwan cast a mock stern look my way, “Well, paduwan, perhaps we’ll make something of you after all,” he teased with a wink. I would normally have been irritated by Obi’s incessent teasing, but I was far too relieved and confused by the Chancellor’s change of heart. How intricately, superbly, did Sidious’ understanding transmute our emotional dross to gold! Later as I stood in grateful, yet weighted respect, Palpatine was to say, “I’ll bear responsibility, paduwan. I think Master Kenobi would take this all too harshly. I’ll help you, but mind you, we shalln’t delve beyond our depth. Meanwhile, it will be our secret!” to be continued... -----signature----- http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p1 The Flower of Bast: personal journals of LDV ~\| Acroama, LD, SDO\|~ o[]\|\|]ooooooooo[0]\|\|[]{ "It's a sin to kill a Mockingbird!"
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LadyZaraMarta Registered: Aug '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 6:55pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Bravo, Pasha! What a wonderful beginning! You have the gift! More! More! More! Congratualtions!
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SKYWALKER_INC Registered: Aug '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 7:13pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Pash: I must concur with LZM... This work of art is simply brilliant! I enjoyed it very much! So much emotion and feeling... -----signature----- At last we will have REVENGE... Wipe them out... ALL OF THEM!!! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Darth Deceptious Sith Lord
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darth-chickenhorse Registered: Dec '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 8:11pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Excellent.....I cannot wait for the next installment -----signature----- ~\| Avenging Arch-Angel of the Light \|~ ~~Standard Bearer of Pashatemur ~~ Defeater of SDO Lord Darth Umbrus in mortal combat
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Darth_Underwear Registered: Oct '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 8:32pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Pashatemur, With much respect due to you. I am glad you have finally found your voice. It is a excellent beginning to a wonderful journal. I will look forward to every entry. Only Pashatemur could channel such a complicated personality as Anakin Skywalker / Lord Darth Vader. Your intuition and perception are both insightful and emotional. Most Sincerely, Lord Darth_Underwear PS. Okay the "Lord" is added for effect. You know I am the Dark Lord of the Skivies. -----signature----- http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/17858766/p1/?521
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Arielle-Sin-Seer Registered: Aug '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 8:43pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Pash~ This is a long overdue honor you have bestowed upon us. Almost everday we are graced with your intellect and insight in JW's thread and now you have finally met your destiny. Thank you! It was wonderful and I want more!!!!! Let the begging begin -----signature----- ~\| SDO Dark Side Acolyte\|~ Lady Blackstrap, Sinful Mistress and darkside converter! It's fun to be sinful!
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Jedi_Hunter_505 Registered: Sep '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 10:50pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Hey Pash great start. can't wait for more!! -----signature----- Church: Then Tex beat Jimmy to death with his own skull. Tucker: Wait, that doesn't seem physically possible! Church: That's exactly what Jimmy kept screaming. Pvt. Jimmy: Getting beaten to death with his own skull THIS DOESN'T SEEM PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE!
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darth_s-cary Registered: Aug '04	Date Posted: 1/5/05 10:54pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Pash, Great work! So much depth, so much emotion. I now know why this is a labor of love. Please, give us more. -----signature----- Proud Member Of The Jedi Technician Crew (JTC) Dean Of The Sith School For Wayward Padawans. Check out Pashatemur's new fan fic here: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=17959370&start=17962279 ]
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Kai_Wooglin_468 Registered: Sep '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 6:46am Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	No doubt, you are Anakin! I'm otherwise at a loss for words. -----signature----- "I don't believe it" -- Luke "That is why you fail." -- Yoda "And I thought they only smelled bad on the outside!" - Han There is danger from all men. The only maxim of a free government ought to be to trust no man living with power to endanger the public
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TimFisto Registered: Jul '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 7:51am Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Pashatemur, great work, superb writing, excellent storytelling. I shall watch for additional chapters with great interest. TF
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AnakinsHeir Registered: May '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 10:05am Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Excellent! Well written and unique. -----signature----- Let Me Go http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/18359174/?2 Master to JediCallista_1_6_e54 A Mother's Wishes http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/20272243/?0
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VaderLVR64 Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 1:31pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	I shall follow this with great interest! I like your concept, and you've done a great job of capturing your readers' interest. I can't wait to see what comes next. I hope there will be more soon. -----signature----- R.I.P John, Alex, Jason, and Christian Never forgotten Soldiers' Angels http://soldiersangels.org/ 2114 soldiers waiting for someone to care
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MasterSareBabe Registered: Dec '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 1:33pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV - Date Edited: 1/8/05 9:28pm (1 edits total) Edited By: MasterSareBabe
	Nice! WOW, you have worked on it! My story is more like I write it today from my notes and post it.
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Prince_Revan Registered: Aug '04	Date Posted: 1/6/05 10:21pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	I’m impressed by the depth of emotions under Vader’s mask. Almost unbelievable. Congratulations, pasha. Keep up the good work. HRH Prince_Revan has spoken. -----signature----- ADONAI Shall Return Again !
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heels1785 Registered: Dec '03	Date Posted: 1/7/05 12:17pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	"Wow" is right-- Great Work, Pasha. -----signature----- Bunsen Honeydew
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Jedi Trace Title: • SouthEast RSA • FanFiction Manager Registered: Dec '99	Date Posted: 1/7/05 1:36pm Subject: RE: THE FLOWER OF BAST: personal jounals of LDV
	Fascinating start! I shall follow this fic with great interest.... -----signature----- "Luke Skywalker kicks ass. Next question." - Tom Taylor "Sometimes bad guys are the only good guys you get." - Leverage
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