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Poof has a love-hate relationship with the Saga. On the one hand, it’s where he has his shinning moments as a Jedi Knight on the Jedi Council. On the other hand, he dies during the Saga era, and that wasn’t much fun at all.

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Author	Topic: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - New Challenge Up!!!
BrokenNoseOfQui-Gon Registered: Nov '04	Date Posted: 5/9/05 7:52am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Some great viggies here. I was going to try to remain spoiler free, but that lasted all of about thirty seconds. Who am I kidding??? Looking forward to more Vader without the suit vignettes. That has always been an interesting alternative. Though forgive me if I don't think "HOT SITH." -----signature----- My Name is Boba Fett http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/18371227/?0 Broken Nose of Qui-Gon http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=16981717& Luminous Beings http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/17766838
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Alethia Registered: Feb '05	Date Posted: 5/9/05 9:09am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	I had an idea for an epic fic, where Vader is not in the suit, back in Jan/early Feb. So I started to write it and everything and because it fits perfectly with the challenge, and because rhonderoo mentioned that it would be perfectly all right to consider the fic I have already started as a challenge fic for this month, I decided to post the beginning of the second chapter here. The fic is called Going Back to Yesterday and contains spoilers, as does this particular excerpt. It tells a tale of a Padmé who has fallen into a deep coma after ROTS and then, two years later, suddenly awakes. And of course, the first thing she wants to do is set out to find her husband. The first two chapters are mainly Padmé based, but this chapter centers for a good 75% of the chapter on a suitless Vader. You should be able to read this part without knowing what's going on in the rest of the fic, since this is Vader's first appearance and he doesn't know what's going on either. grins Anyway, this is unbeta-ed and therefore a draft. But I figured that would be okay...I already had one editor read through it, now I'm just waiting on the beta. It contains spoilers, is fairly dark and, well, enjoy reading. Chapter 3: As of Yet Untitled With a crash, a glass hits the wall, splintering into tiny crystal shards. The liquid in the glass slowly runs down the wall, leaving a dark red trail- the same color as blood. He feels a certain satisfaction as the Commander cringes away from him, his eyes wide. Fear… He lives on fear, drinking it like water, the one substance that keeps him nourished. And the fear of this commander will feed him for days… It rolls off of him in a palatable cloud, seeking the void in the room, the void he himself is. He draws the fear to him, tasting it, letting it wrap itself around him, covering his every inch. Perhaps because the commander has fed him so well, he will let him live. It is not so often that he receives such a strong dose of what he needs to survive, to keep his systems in working order, to give him the will to live… Though he doubts he truly does live. To live is to be full of life, a wish to continue on this plane of existence, a desire to make the most of what is sent your way. And he has none of these desires. Instead he is the void, the absence of everything, the presence of nothingness. His eyes, considered by many to be the window to the soul, are lifeless, dead. They fix on objects without really seeing, without really knowing. His eyes are dead- and so is his soul. He is the very darkness that he wraps around himself, the very fear that radiates off of him. He reigns in his darkness, calling the invisible vapors of fear in the air towards him as he turns to face the commander- the weak, pitiful commander, who trembles at the sight of him. With a smirk, he decides the fate of the commander, as he reaches with one hand towards his hood he always wears, keeping his features hidden to the world. The Wraith, the Shadow, the Darkness, the Evil, the Betrayer… He is the Dark Lord and few alive have seen his true features. An imposing figure in black, he always wears an over-robe with the hood drawn low, keeping his face in the shadows. Those who are lucky- or unlucky enough to see some of his features tell tales of bloodless yellow eyes, a slight curl of darkened hair and a scar over his right eye. And those who see more live no longer. The Dark Lord only reveals his true face to those who are to imminently meet Death. He gives them the honor of finally knowing their murderer, one last favor to them before they become one with the Force. Not one being in the galaxy can say that the Dark Lord is not honorable. He does not kill anonymously, but with calculated pleasure as he draws back his hood and sneers, reaching out a hand, fingers splayed. And then he listens to the sound of the dying's screams. It is music to his ears, as the victim spasms on the floor, blue Force lightning wreaking havoc on his systems. The screams heighten as the Dark Lord intensifies the strength of the lightning and then taper off as the last particle of life leaves the shell of what once was a commander of the Imperial Navy. He lowers his outstretched hand and steps over the body, drawing up his hood once more. He ignores the shards of glass on the floor as well, the wine that still drips, pooling in the middle of the splinters. With an annoyed wave of his hand, the door to the chamber opens and he steps out, motioning to two troopers to remove the body and clean up the wine. He stalks down the corridor, his footfalls echoing as he moves towards the bridge. For one, someone will have to be promoted into the dead commander's position. And, what he dreads, he must tell the Admiral as well. They are to set course towards the Imperial Center immediately. His 'Master' is calling him. Calling him like a nerf on a leash. His fists clench with the thought. He is no toy or idle slave to be ordered around. He is the Dark Lord, the Wraith, the Shadow, the Emperor's right hand. And yet he is still ordered to drop everything and hurry as fast as he can to his master's feet. It is probably just some visiting dignitary, a weak and utter fool of a politician, holding a ball in the Emperor's honor to gain prestige. A ridiculous and useless affair where other politicians, dignitaries and high-up government officials all flock to, to promote themselves and to better their own positions. And yet the Emperor enjoys such nonsensical events and forces him to attend as well. But then it does not surprise him. Palpatine is a politician, as well as being a Sith Master. And politicians enjoy, no, crave such retched, pointless displays. Palpatine attends the parties and balls with much fervor, playing his intricate little games. He will praise one Senator one day only to have them arrested for treason the next. It curls his blood. It is not the imprisonment that bothers him. If he had things his way, he would throw all politicians into detention centers. The galaxy would be much better off without the lot of them. No, it is the fact that his master expects him to join in as well. Like a parent and a small child, Sidious calls and expects him to come running, expecting him to attend the complete wastes of time his master, for some unknown reason, considers amusing. It is times like this when he contemplates taking over the Empire himself. He has no more need for his master. The secrets that his master once promised him are useless to him now. The glory he had once craved, the recognition, the power- he holds them all in his mechanical fist. Palpatine, Sidious, the Emperor- the being under the names has no purpose anymore in his plans. Not that he wasn't from the very beginning planning, scheming, watching to make his move and take over. Yet something once held him back. Something once allowed him to make no move against his Master, his Emperor, his friend, his enemy. Something soft…sweet…full of life. Something that was now gone from his life, never to return. He doesn't need her anymore. He refuses to let his thoughts stray. There is no reason to even think of her anymore. She is dead, by his own hand. His lips curl into a snarl. The traitor deserved what she got. He will not think of it anymore. He will not. So why do his thoughts continue to stray? Why can he not shove her into the locked chamber of his mind that holds the memories of his past? He is the Darkness. He is Power at its source. The galaxy cowers when they hear his name or see his approaching shadow. He is Death, Eternity, the Void. And yet such a pitiful little toy of a woman can bring him to his knees. Or could. She is dead, after all. Yet still, the very memory of her taunts him, taking over his thoughts, torturing his very essence, his soul. What a wonderful way to learn that he has a soul- to learn of it as she rips it to pieces along with his heart. "NO!" he roars, letting the power flow through him, sending off shockwaves that make the ship tremble and throw the crew to their knees. He will control himself. He will not let her take a hold of him, toying with his mind. He is Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith and nothing will stop him. Nothing. ---------------------------- "I have sensed a disturbance in the Force, my young apprentice." He keeps his mind blank, pulling up his normal shadows to hide his true thoughts. Revealing them to his master would not be wise. Palpatine was not forgiving of traitors and he would not act any differently towards his own, traitorous apprentice, if he knew the thoughts he entertained. If he knew. Which he does not. Lord Vader has had years to practice. The shadows that surround his body also surround his mind. Should his master probe his mind, he will only receive echoes of darkness. And Palpatine does this, quite frequently- another occurrence that causes him to allow those thoughts of treason to play through his mind. There is no trust between a Sith Master and a Sith Apprentice and he expects none. He is well aware of the age-old paradigm of the Sith. Yet it incites him that Sidious think so little of him. No one holds as much power as he does. Conceived by the Force itself, he is a fountain of power. And Sidious dare to force his way into his mind? He controls his thoughts as he kneels before the holo of his master. "The disturbance was me, my master. A commander…disappointed me." "Ah…" Sidious's eyes light up. "Very well, my friend. Your anger is powerful." "Yes, my master." He keeps his head low, his tone even and respectful, yet on the inside he is screaming. "I have a mission for you, once you reach Coruscant." Sidious continues, but instantly shifts into Palpatine as a Royal Guard appears next to him. There is no visual difference between Palpatine and Sidious, but a difference in power. Emperor Palpatine was betrayed by the Jedi and therefore has outlawed the use of the fabled mystical power called the Force. Emperor Palpatine barely tolerates his right-hand's usage of the ancient ways, scoffing about them in front of whoever is listening. Sidious is the Master of the Darkside, the Sith Master, who wraps the Force around him, reveling in its darkness. Sidious keeps his identity hidden, revealing himself only in the presence of his apprentice. The guard leaves shortly after handing something to his master and Palpatine continues. "Lord Vader, return to Coruscant immediately and we will discuss your new mission." "Very well, my Master." And with a bow of his head, he switches off the holo, watching the image dissipate into nothing. He rises in a fluid movement, his eyes still trained on the console where his master had stood. A figure approaches and he senses the presence of Admiral Reichen, a competent and ambitious admiral, who strives to run the Executor with precision and grandeur. As Lord Vader's personal flagship, she is in pristine condition, with a crew hand-picked by Lord Vader himself and carefully manned by him as well. Reichen could also be trusted, a trait Lord Vader prizes him for. One of the few officials who has seen his true face, Reichen is also one of the even fewer who knows Vader's former identity, having served with and under him in the Clone Wars. And although the identity of the Dark Lord is sought-out knowledge by all the holo-news reporters, he knows that Reichen would never betray him. Reichen values his own life. "Admiral," he speaks, his back still turned to the admiral, who stands at attention behind him. "Yes, my Lord?" Inwardly, he smirks. Reichen really is a competent admiral, his voice unwavering as he addresses the same Sith Lord who had only moments earlier almost destroyed an entire corridor with a simple scream. Not many men can do that. Turning to face the admiral, he meets his eyes. Still, Reichen restrains from flinching under his cold, dead gaze. "Set course for the Imperial Capital. The Emperor wishes us to return." With a salute, his eyes still focused on Lord Vader's, Reichen acknowledges the request. "Straight away, my Lord." He means to turn away, but is stopped. "I'm not finished, Admiral." His voice cuts through the air and immediately halts the admiral's movement. He smirks on the inside, refusing to allow his slight amusement show on his cold features. Trusted or not, he does not allow anyone to see any form of emotions in his features, unless you count the coldness of his eyes and his perpetual frown. It is good to see that Reichen has been shaken by his interruption. "I am retiring to my quarters and do not wish to be disturbed until we arrive." Reichen salutes again, nodding. "Is that all, my Lord?" "Yes." He watches as Reichen about-faces and does not stop the man from leaving this time, watching the admiral walk in a steady, yet quick pace, off to tell his men to prepare for their journey. He waits until the admiral is gone before pulling up his hood and leaving the office, punching in the lock codes for the door. As the Commander-In-Chief of the Imperial Navy, he has special offices in each Star Destroyer of the entire fleet, as well as personal chambers on the Executor, also equipped with an office. This office is close to the bridge, where he meets with the various officers. No one ever enters his personal office in his chambers. He stalks down the corridor, his mind turned to the conversation he had had with the Emperor. Dignitary Rimbanu of the Cullensi System has journeyed to Coruscant to negotiate terms for his system's entrance into the Empire. And this of course means that Lord Vader's presence will be required at the mindless festivities. He'd rather fall into a river of lava. Politicians. He glares as he tramps down the corridor, two technicians seeing his approach and quickly springing out of his way. One of the few reasons he had not yet bothered to over-throw Palpatine. As Emperor of the galaxy, he would be faced daily with the sniveling races, forced to listen to their mindless blabber, attending their meaningless functions, and in general wasting his time. He is a warrior, a master strategist in battle, the best pilot in the galaxy. He goes to foreign worlds and conquers them, fights in battles, hunts Jedi and the Rebellion. His place is not in a Throne Room. His place is out, amidst the stars. Once, he had entertained the idea of ruling the galaxy. Once, he had thought to let Palpatine build his hated Empire and then throw him down. Once he had thought many things, but they didn't matter now. His dreams were dead. He is dead. For even stars die. Just as his own had. By his own hand. He doesn't even take notice of the crew members, who pass him as he walks by, nor does he acknowledge the sniveling commander he choked on instinct, not even thinking of it as he attempted to speak to him. He just continues moving, lost in his thoughts. Padmé… He had done it all for her. He had opened his heart and soul to her, offering her everything she could ever want- and she betrayed him. Betrayed him with his Master. She had taken everything from him and then left him laying lifeless before her feet. She had died- damn it to the nine hells, leaving him. She had promised that she would never leave him and she had, curse her memory. She deserted him when he needed her the most. It was all her fault. Everything was her fault. Flames flicker in his eyes as he clenches his metal fist, tightening it around a phantom throat. Her phantom throat. She had caused him to wrap the Force around her windpipe, crushing it with all the dark power he possessed. She had caused it all- had ruined it all. She had forced him to kill her, her final act of betrayal. His Queen… From the moment he had bowed down before his Master, accepting his new identity and destroying the 'good and caring' man who was Anakin Skywalker for eternity, he had made his plans. He would learn the secrets of life and death from Sidious. He would destroy the Jedi, be the ever-minding apprentice and watch as Palpatine destroyed the very Empire he had created, as he became the most-hated man in the galaxy. Politicians- most of them, at least- were fickle. They would cry for an Empire one moment and then curse it the next. He would not have to wait long for the galaxy to decide the Palpatine was a corrupt tyrant. Palpatine would become the most hated man in the galaxy. And then he would step in. He and his wife, a politician in her own right, but someone who actually cared for the state of things, would appear as saviors. Padmé would make a wonderful Queen of the galaxy and with him by her side; they would make sure that there was peace and order in the galaxy. They would rule together and their child would be their heir, trained in the ways of the Force by its father and trained in the ways of the people by its mother. The same child that died with its mother. Also by his own hand. The child they had created, his seed, her womb, half of each of them. The child they had conceived through their love, so pure and innocent. The same love that had become corrupted and tainted. The same love that had allowed her to betray him. He has reached his chambers now and, with a glare, he opens them through the Force. His mind is still on his former love, the woman he had given up everything for, the woman he had done everything for. He had offered her an Empire and she had spit in his face. Traitorous wench. It was all her fault. Hers and that fool Kenobi's. That fool had played with his wife. And she had let him. She had brought Kenobi to him. She had betrayed him with her last breath. She had returned to him and he had held her in his arms and everything was going as planned and soon there would be no more worries. Soon they would have everything that they deserved. And then she had ripped out his heart from his chest and had thrown it into the rivers of lava of Mustafar. Had she had other motivations, bringing Kenobi to him as a gift, a way to apologize for doubting him, he would have accepted it with pleasure, allowing her to ascend the godly pillar she belonged on in his heart. Yet instead her gift was full of betrayal and deceit. So he had killed her. He stalks over to the bedroom, throwing off his robe. He has no plans for sleep- he rarely sleeps as it is. He'll meditate, calling waves of darkness to him, or he'll simply pace, wearing away his thoughts with each step. He'll stare unmoving at the stars for hours. But he will never willingly sleep. He is not in control when he sleeps. Memories assault him when he sleeps, twisting through the shields in his mind, bringing images into play he wishes never to think of again. Even things he should revel in, like the memory of his first use of the Darkside, he pushes away, not daring to allow them to take him over. Even the darkest of his memories are linked to her. And she is a weakness he will not accept. His chambers are elegant, yet simple. A large bed covered in black silk stands in the center of the room, with a nightstand on one side. A door opens to a refresher. Another door opens to something akin to a closet, where he stores his meager possessions. He does not have many material objects, although he has more than enough money to pay for them. He wears the simple set of tunics, surcoat, military issue trousers and utility belt he has always worn, the dark color mirroring the space outside. He has no trinkets or any other frivolities in his bed chamber. The walls are a dull sheen of the metal they are made of, efficient but plain. Efficient but plain. The mantra of his entire chambers fits this. There are no comforts in his chambers- he needs none. He keeps his chamber sparsely furnished and decorated. No artwork graces the walls, no reminders of his extending wealth. He had no need for material possessions. There is not even a mirror in his refresher. It is too painful for him to look into a mirror. Some might call him handsome. His features have altered only little in the time since he has began hiding his face from the public. He still has the high cheek bones, the regal looking nose, curt mouth. His curly dark hair, bleached from radiation to gold, unruly strands lightly touching the back of his tunic has only changed in the fact that he cuts it occasionally. He still bears the scar, as testimony of his duel with Assaj Ventress, cutting over his right eye. He has added another scar to the left side of his face, a scrape that never healed correctly, as testimony of his duel with Kenobi. Truly, the only thing that has changed is his eyes, from their previous deep cobalt blue to the dead yellow they now display. And it is none of these factors that cause him to shun away from his appearance. It is his own mind. His features are the ever-lasting memory of who he once was, and what he had lost. For all intent and purposes, Anakin Skywalker was dead, long dead. And yet his reflection greeted him every time he looked and saw himself. Even when he looked into a mirror, he no longer saw the yellow eyes of the Sith, changed by his anger and despair and welcoming of the Darkside, but the same blue orbs his wife had always said matched the lake on Naboo on a beautiful summer's day. He could not bear to look upon the man who had been weak, chained to a woman who crushed his heart with a simple thought. And so he refused to have a mirror in any of his quarters or apartments scattered through out the galaxy, refusing to acknowledge the man he had been once. Anakin Skywalker was dead. There was to be no more thinking of those long dead and gone. Kenobi had made sure of that. He lowers himself onto the bed, sitting on the side, his eyes unseeing. Kenobi… His former Master, his former friend- back when he cared for such things. A traitor, just like his wife. He had offered him a chance to flee. But no, Kenobi had to go and be noble and betray him. He remembers that night in great detail. He remembers the smell of sulfur in the air and the way the flames licked at their boots as they dueled. He remembers the way they each pushed themselves to the limit of their abilities. He had always been stronger. But Kenobi had experience and therefore they were equally matched. Until he had made a mistake. A fatal mistake. Even now, two years later, he still hates Kenobi, hates himself for that encounter. It does not matter who began the duel, or how it progressed. It only matters how it ended. Kenobi has tricked him, that fool. Kenobi has left him floating on that damnable droid in the river of molten lava, having sprung to safety himself. And then Kenobi has the gall to lecture him. Him! Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, and Kenobi tried to lecture him and demands his surrender? Has Kenobi gone mad? With a snarl, he leaps off of the droid, using the Force to propel him through the air. And fate almost stops as Kenobi's lightsaber comes very close to slicing through his legs. But he has seen through the trick, parrying the saber with his own and as he lands on the cliff, he makes a swipe of his own- at Kenobi's head. And the duel continues. Kenobi blocks the swing, striking out at his torso. He parries and blocks and they move towards higher ground, as the planet begins to tremble. Perhaps it is the energies of the Force that causes the planet to quake, causing the cliffs to tremble, fire to rain down upon their heads. Neither of them takes the time to contemplate it- it does not matter. All that matters is them, their duel. Light against Dark, Master against Apprentice, Father against Son. The outcome of this duel will dictate the future. There will only be one victor, as former friends who have become bitter enemies battle it out to the very end- death. It is clear to both of them that only one must walk away from this duel and both of them are giving their best to insure that they will not fall, but triumph- whether it be Good over Evil or Evil over Good. The planet begins to shake even more now, but neither of them thinks of that. They are concentrated only on parrying each other's blows, struggling back and forth on the uneven cliffs as it rains ashes on them and the planet shakes. He swings out with his fist, Kenobi blocking it and swinging his lightsaber at his own torso. He leans back and flips, coming at Kenobi with a two-handed hold, chopping down and Kenobi ducks, pivoting on his foot and striking out at him once again. Surely Kenobi realizes that he will not win. With the Darkside at his command, how could Kenobi even dream to conquer him? He is the Hero With No Fear. He has saved worlds single-handedly. He is the Chosen One, bringing Balance to the Force by destroying the treason-filled Jedi Order, with their outdated principles and back-stabbing ways. With a roar, he charges at Kenobi again. He will finish this duel and come out the victor. He feels nothing for Kenobi now. He gave Kenobi a chance to turn away and disappear and Kenobi refused. So be it. He will not hold back. And, as his blade crosses Kenobi's, he lets a sneer show on his face. Kenobi will not come out of this alive. Through the exchange, the two of them either do not realize that they have moved upwards to a high cliff or they simply do not acknowledge it. They both attack with intensity as the ground rumbles beneath them and rocks crumble, falling into the lava river the cliff overlooks. It is dangerous- very dangerous and only the best of fighters could manage to not only keep their balance, but also their rhythm. They are two of the best. The match of power versus experience draws on, becoming only more evident and as they continue their fight, neither receiving the upper-hand. At the moment, if it continues as it has, the duel will stay a stalemate, neither participant winning or losing, unless some outside factor enters in. Like an earthquake. The planet has been shaking for awhile now and the two warriors have easily ignored it. Such little tremors were not worthy enough of the attention of two men locked in a battle of life and death. But now it is time to take those factors into consideration. It is only when he feels the ground underneath his feet crumble that he realizes not only is the planet convulsing, but also that the very ground they stand on is giving away. He will not let it distract him. With a shove of the Force, he sends Kenobi back. Kenobi counters the shove with his own, and, high above the lava, they continue to duel as he swipes at Kenobi's arm. Kenobi raises his arm out of the way and kicks out at his head. He leans backwards, to miss the blow- And that is his fatal mistake. He is already leaning backwards to avoid Kenobi's kick, but he does not expect Kenobi to lash out at him with his lightsaber at the same time. If it were normal conditions, he would have fallen on his back and perhaps he could have still managed to keep duelling. But these are not normal conditions. The very ground he stands on chooses that particular moment to tremble and quake and crumble from beneath his feet. He falls. It is only through the Force he has gripped in panic that he manages to grab part of the cliff, saving him from tumbling down into a molten river. His legs and left arm scramble for a hold, for he can feel his mechanical grip crushing the rock that keeps him from falling. He claws at the cliff, attempting to gain another hold. He barely recognizes Kenobi reaching down to pick up his saber, twirling the handle in his hand, comparing it with his own. In a moment of complete and utter weakness, he does the only thing left for him to do. He calls for his Master. "Obi-Wan…?" The fumes are beginning to choke him as he dangles high above the lava. He can feel the earth giving away underneath his powerful grip. He knows that he is about to fall and as he casts his mind and will out for the Force, for once it does not answer his call. Obi-Wan is his last hope. But as Obi-Wan looks up from the two sabres he holds in his hand, down upon him, his former apprentice- he can already read it in his eyes. There will be no help from Obi-Wan. "You were the Chosen One! It was said you would destroy the Sith, not join them." Obi-Wan continues in his angry tirade, but he cannot hear it. His mind is still on Obi-Wan's first words. You were the Chosen One. You were the Chosen One. And the ground finally gives way under his grasp, sending him plunging down along with the boulders and rocks the quakes have set free from their places, sending them all down into a river of death. "I hate you," he screams, as he falls. Falling. Falling. Falling. You were the Chosen One. Darkness. "My lord? My lord? We have reached Coruscant. My lord?" He reaches out and closes his fist, effectively choking the officer without thinking. It has become such an automated response, almost second-nature. His lifeless eyes come to rest on the commander who claws at his throat futile, for it is the Force that chokes him. The Commander coughs, trying to gain even a breath of air as his throat constricts. "You- You-You were dreaming-my-" And he is dead before he can finish with Lord. With contempt, Lord Vader glares at the body on the floor of his bed chamber, before rising to leave. "Sith Lords do not dream." ------------------------ End of excerpt. There- my rendition of Vader without the suit. -----signature----- Jen, High Scholar and Ponderer of all Things Verily Blue, and Official caller of Suz, Crusader of Heretics and Knight of the Blue 1000 Now sacrificing Movie Garfield
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S-e-t Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 5/9/05 1:25pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Whoa, Thia. Breathtaking. I mean, I don't even really know much about the character at all and even I could grasp how powerful this excerpt was. You are one awesome writer, girl!
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rhonderoo Title: Former Head Admin Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 5/9/05 1:29pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Wow, Alethia. Great post!! When Vader is hating, he is hating. Great characterization!!! Beautiful imagery and descriptions also. -----signature----- DT421
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 5/12/05 11:57am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	VaderLVR humbly asks for others to write viggies about "One Hot Sith Lord." Pretty please??? I'll send chocolate. -----signature----- If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Army Mom! HOOAH! Adopt a soldier: http://soldiersangels.org/
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Alethia Registered: Feb '05	Date Posted: 5/12/05 12:20pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Aww... LVR, I'll try. But I have no time at the moment. Will try to write some more soon, though... -----signature----- Jen, High Scholar and Ponderer of all Things Verily Blue, and Official caller of Suz, Crusader of Heretics and Knight of the Blue 1000 Now sacrificing Movie Garfield
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TNPredsFan Title: FF Chapter Rep Memphis, TN Registered: Nov '04	Date Posted: 5/12/05 5:47pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Wow! Great post! -----signature----- "I hate it when people I hate make sense." - Jarael, KotOR "In...women courage is often mistaken for insanity. " - Iron Jawed Angels
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Shadowolf Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 5/18/05 8:42am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	Oh man, there are some amazingly talented writers on this Challenge thread! All of the stories are wonderful! -----signature----- Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars. - Matthew Stover Happy to be Layren's Padawan! From My Point of View http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=21027412 updated 12/23 - finally! Happy Holidays one and all!
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 5/18/05 11:44am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	You know how much I love that story, Alethia! I can't wait to read more! -----signature----- If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Army Mom! HOOAH! Adopt a soldier: http://soldiersangels.org/
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SithLord4488 Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 5/24/05 5:11pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We
	killing dooku -----signature----- May the force be with you! "were fine down here....how are you?" -HAN
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rhonderoo Title: Former Head Admin Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 6/7/05 1:45pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - poss. spoilers - Darkness in the Things We L - Date Edited: 6/7/05 2:03pm (1 edits total) Edited By: rhonderoo
	Okay, my entry is not AU. So Qui-gon does not survive, but here it is none the less. Brotherhood and Family The atmosphere on Cato Neimoidia had cleared from the low storm clouds that had previously blanketed the skies over the Republic encampment. From beneath the dark indigo horizon, little bits of light peeked out, peppering everything in view with stars. What a beautiful way to end the day, Obi-Wan Kenobi thought as he absently rubbed the mud and grit from the surface of his beloved lightsaber. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes from the heavens since twilight. He became aware that Anakin hadn’t spoken in his normal teasing manner about Obi-Wan’s attention span yet, and looked around to find his friend bent over a table, his rucksack and it’s contents splayed everywhere, concentrating on the act of writing something on flimsiplast. A twinge of guilt, and then he breathed it in and out. He would allow Anakin this now. There would be time after the war to deal with the ramifications of any attachments he may hold. He wondered how many holos between his former padawan and the Senator had actually passed back and forth over the space of three years. He turned back to the window with a sigh. Qui-Gon, what would you have done in this situation? What would you have me do? I find it harder and harder to break the bond I have with Anakin, yet I know I must do my duty someday. He still needs me, though. So tenuous is his relationship with the Council. I begin to see some of your misgivings with them, Master. You may now retrieve your jaw from the floor. If Qui-Gon heard him, there was no evidence. Unless the slight breeze that wafted in open tent window counted. How he missed him on these nights. All that surrounded them in the camp was silence and one’s own thoughts. He reluctantly turned from the window and placed his lightsaber on his belt. Anakin looked to be finishing up. Anakin looked up defensively as his friend and mentor approached the table. There was an air of hesitance around Obi-Wan and Anakin knew why. “It’s not what you’re thinking,” he said. The words came out sharper than he intended. “Oh? What am I thinking then?” Obi-Wan asked. The look on his face was one that Anakin would have abhorred when he was younger. Eyebrow cocked and patient face waiting, smirking even. He had now come to appreciate it as one of the many parts of his beloved former Master’s make-up as he had gotten older and the strains of the Master and Apprentice relationship had given way to real and mature affection. They shared a bond, he and Obi-Wan. One that he was not sure he could ever totally sever, and it would present problems one day, of this he was sure. He would have to choose when the war was over. He only hoped that Obi-Wan would understand when he realized he had already made his choice the day he married Padmé. He desperately hoped that they could still share each other’s life in some capacity, he didn’t think he could easily let Obi-Wan go. He was too important to him. There it was again, that pesky attachment rule. He sighed inwardly and drug his thoughts back to the here and now. To Obi-Wan standing patiently, waiting. “It’s not to…her,” he said with downcast eyes. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say her name aloud to Obi-Wan. It wasn’t as if saying it would make his marriage any more real. He loved Padmé and she was his life after the war, which was already as real as it could possibly be. Still…he didn’t want to rub salt into a wound. Even if the wound was internal. “I didn’t say anything,” Obi-Wan answered and sat down at the table. He tried to keep his eyes away from the flimsiplast. Anakin looked up at him and grinned. “It’s killing you, isn’t it?” “Absolutely not,” he answered. “It is none of my business who you are corresponding with. I am not your Master, remember?” He narrowed his eyes jovially at Anakin and was rewarded with laughter. “Here, you can read it. As long as you promise that there will be no lectures on attachment.” Anakin pushed the flimsy towards Obi-Wan and got up. “I have to go set Artoo up for recharge, anyway.” “I don’t want to read it,” Obi-Wan called to Anakin as he walked away. “Blast,” he muttered as he pulled the flimsiplast to him Owen, I am terribly saddened to hear the news of your father’s death. I received the news from a holo transmission from Senator Amidala. Thank you for making sure she got the news to give to me. In the short time that I got to be around him, Cliegg seemed to be a very good man. I will never be able to repay your family for the kindness you showed my mother, and I regret that I didn’t get to stay longer, but my duty has never kept me at one place for very long. Just know that I am thinking about you, and wish you peace. Please give my love to Beru. Your brother, Anakin With a sigh, he laid the flimsiplast back on the table as Anakin sat back down across from him. “Anakin…” “Don’t, Obi-Wan…just…don’t,” Anakin said. “Anakin, I was not going to bring up attachment, but now that you mentioned it, I have to say that I understand these feelings…but as Jedi, sadness at death is not something we are supposed to feel.” “Obi-Wan, I know what the Jedi say about attachment and grief.” Anakin leaned closer to Obi-Wan, his eyes intense. “It is harder than you can imagine in practice, but I try.” He leaned back with a sigh, and ran his hand over his hair. He leaned over the table at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes snapping. “Do you not ever grieve Qui-Gon? Does your heart never hurt when you think of him? Of his kindess? His irreverence to all things political and stodgy? Don’t you ever feel him with you? I only knew him a short time as my Master, Obi-Wan and I miss him. I miss him. Sue me. Kick me out of the order. I miss him. I know the order can’t bludgeon something like that completely out of one’s soul. I see you sometimes, with that far off look in your eyes, and I know. I know, Obi-Wan, that you miss him. You cannot fool me.” Anakin sat back up and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Master.” He looked away as Obi-Wan’s eyes met his. Anakin’s face was flushed with the intensity of his outburst and for a moment Obi-Wan saw the young padawan that had questioned him so many times on this same subject. Disgusted with his inability to not feel, but at the same time struggling with Obi-Wan’s inability to understand. And then would always come the inevitable apology from Anakin, real but not heartfelt. One more time that they misunderstood each other completely and Anakin felt he had let his master down. Only Obi-Wan was not let down, he did feel these things. He could just never let Anakin know. He hated that Anakin sometimes thought him cold and unfeeling, but the code was branded in him from the beginning and it was his duty to teach Anakin as he had been taught. He kept his secret well hidden always, that he did form attachments. He had loved Qui-Gon, even as he now loved Anakin. He envied Anakin’s ability to let it show, to wear it on his sleeve, to fling it in the face of the Council and the other Jedi. He knew Anakin’s special connection to the Force was part of this. Qui-Gon had felt it. It was only one of the ways he felt the Jedi may be veering off their intended course. He sighed and touched Anakin’s hand. “I do miss him, Anakin. There are many times that I can see him in you, and I know that you were brought to me to take Qui-Gon’s place in my life. We are a good team, and I know Qui-Gon is happy knowing that you have become a Jedi Knight. And I do mourn for the day I will have to let you go. But as a Jedi I will do what I must.” Anakin looked away at the emotion in Obi-Wan’s eyes, layered with the steely Jedi determination that always accompanied it, as if he were fighting his own private battle. Obi-Wan always wins his, Anakin thought miserably. He looked back to his mentor with pressed lips and laid his metal hand over Obi-Wan’s. “Then I am glad that we are brothers, because we will always have that.” Both men drew away from the conversation and into their own worlds for the moment. Anakin took the flimsy and folded it and put it in his rucksack. The war had changed many things, most of them for the worst, but it had allowed he and Obi-Wan to overcome their struggles as young master with an obstinate student. And Anakin was well aware the burden his friend had carried as his master. In truth, Obi-Wan was the Jedi to him and the only link he had to the Order that wasn’t clouded and twisted to the unknown fear and mistrust that prevailed on the Council. He knew Obi-Wan knew how much he wanted the Council’s trust and respect and that it hurt him deeply when they shut him out and pushed him away, for nothing else than because they didn’t know how to deal with him. Anakin also knew that Obi-Wan had come to understand that he had no idea why this group feared him so, and played emissary between the two factions. Anakin had spoken of his concern that he didn’t feel the Council listened to the Force with Obi-Wan before. His master would get a certain look in his eye when Anakin did find the courage to broach the subject. A mixture of fond memory and fear. Fear that the order was changing and only he – Anakin - saw what could be ahead. Anakin could tell it frightened Obi-Wan when he dreamed his visions, now. He paid attention. Neither he nor his best friend could overcome the heavy-hearted blackness that seeped into their thoughts if they allowed themselves too much time to think. “So, Owen is your brother?” Obi-Wan’s voice interrupted Anakin’s reverie. “My other brother,” Anakin winked as he got up and threw the rucksack to his cot. “And Cliegg is your step-father?” “Yes. He freed my mother and then married her. I met them when….” Anakin’s voice trailed off. “When your mother died?” “Yes,” Anakin turned around to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I am very sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sure it is a sad time for them.” “Yes,” Anakin offered. “They will survive, though. Tatooine does that to people. Teaches them to survive. It is a barren dustball, but it teaches the art of survival well.” Obi-Wan could tell Anakin was closing himself off from the conversation, shutting him out. He knew Anakin’s feelings on his home planet. He looked up to his former padawan, now his best friend and brother, his eyes curious and wary. “So, are you ever sorry that Qui-Gon took you from there?” Anakin sat back down at the table and studied Obi-Wan for a moment. “No. I’m not.” He looked down at the table and clasped his hands in front of him. “I am sorry that I didn’t have time with my mother. I am sorry that she died. I am sorry I didn’t get to know Owen and Beru while I was there, that in my grief I shut them and everything out. But I am not sorry I am a Jedi, Obi-Wan. I am not sorry I met the great man that was Qui-Gon Jinn.” He looked back to his former Master and mentor, his blue eyes open and intense. “And for that I have you to thank, Master. You have done the best you could with someone like me, and for that…I’m sure there’s a special place for you in the afterlife,” Anakin laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Seriously, Obi-Wan. I know you are not my Master anymore, but you will always be my brother. Even past death.” “Thank you, my padawan,” Obi-Wan said, fighting to keep the mist from his eyes. “That is all I could ever ask for.” The End -----signature----- DT421
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ithesock Registered: Mar '05	Date Posted: 6/10/05 10:25pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - Anakin/Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon entries
	Wow. That was so well done. Even if Qui-Gon wasn't part of it, I liked Obi-Wan's thoughts about his master (particularly about 'retrieving his jaw from the floor'. )And Anakin's strong attachment with Obi-Wan, hoping that it'll continue, no matter what. Beautiful. -----signature----- Fields of Elysia (JA): http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/20100957/?140 - 10/8 Epistles to a Master (JA, AU): http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/20479680/?25 Lore-Master to Seven
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mithrissa Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 6/13/05 7:25am Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - Anakin/Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon entries - Date Edited: 6/23/05 8:13am (1 edits total) Edited By: mithrissa
	Wonderful as always rhonderoo I love your portrayal of the precious but still fragile fraternal relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin. I'm particularly guilty of ignoring this aspect of their relationship, but you conveyed it so vividly and authentically. Insightful and interesting reflections on both their parts about the Council too."You may now retrieve your jaw from the floor" Indeed! And Qui-Gon was SO a presence too, and not in a creepy, undead kind of way either quirks. -----signature----- The Triumph at Mustafar- http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=20766484&replies=0 The Ultimate Submission - http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=20911436&replies=23 " Even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again"
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 6/13/05 1:30pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - Anakin/Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon entries - Date Edited: 6/14/05 6:30am (7 edits total) Edited By: VaderLVR64
	Title: A Life of Fulfillment Author: VaderLVR64 Characters: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin Summary: Qui-Gon survived his injuries on Naboo, though he continues to live with the consequences. And Obi-Wan must deal with the trials and tribulations of training a being of prophecy. Notes: Written for the “Three Musketeers” challenge. I got inspired after eating lunch today (a full tummy does that to me! ) and this is the result. A Life of Fulfillment Qui-Gon quirked one eyebrow at his former apprentice. “Yes, Obi-Wan? Having problems are we?” Obi-Wan fell into his favorite chair with a groan that was equal parts exasperation and weariness. “You might say that,” he grumbled. There was laughter from the older man. “Anakin is giving you fits again, isn’t he?” One blue eye peeked from in between his fingers as he gave Qui-Gon a wary look. “You must be using one of your Jedi mind tricks,” he mocked. “How ever did you guess?” The massive shoulders shrugged. “Just lucky, I suppose,” he said as he maneuvered his hoverchair closer. “What was it this time?” “The usual.” “The usual as in gambling, sneaking out of quarters, or getting into a brawl?” Qui-Gon ran through the list. “All of the above actually,” Obi-Wan said and then shook his head. ”The boy had a busy week,” Qui-Gon noted, trying very hard not to laugh. “Week? I only wish it had taken him a week to get into that much trouble!” Obi-Wan exploded. “One night, Master! One night is all it took Anakin Skywalker to almost get himself expelled from the Jedi Order!” “Pretty impressive for a sixteen year old,” Qui-Gon mused. Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon with narrowed eyes. “You think this is funny!” He accused hotly. Shaking his head, Qui-Gon made a soothing gesture with his hands. “No, no, my boy, not at all. It’s just that…” he stopped and gave Obi-Wan an apologetic grin. “I just think he’s keeping you young, that’s all.” “Young?” Obi-Wan cried out. “Young? You think he’s keeping me young?” He shot to his feet and began pacing restlessly. “More likely that he’ll drive me into an early grave, that’s what!” Qui-Gon chuckled from behind his hand. “Fine, Master, make fun of me, have a great laugh at my expense. But when I’m finally driven insane will you visit me in the wards?” “Most assuredly, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said solemnly. “And I’ll even bring Anakin with me.” “Do not do me any favors,” Obi-Wan retorted. “Besides, what makes you think the young scamp will still be alive?” Now his own lips twitched. It was too hard to hold onto his bad temper around Qui-Gon Jinn. “There’s the Obi-Wan I know and love,” Qui-Gon noted approvingly. “Feel better now?” “A bit,” Obi-Wan conceded. “You’re doing a marvelous job with him, Obi-Wan.” His voice was warm and reassuring, as it always was in these situations. Training the Chosen One was a group effort. Obi-Wan scowled and flopped back into the chair. “Not good enough. I can’t even keep him in the Temple!” “I don’t think anyone alive could do that, Padawan.” “He’s going to be the death of me,” Obi-Wan warned. “Or the joy of your old age,” Qui-Gon countered. “A state to which he is driving me rapidly,” the younger man said with a smirk. “Would you like something to drink now that your temper has cooled?” Waving away his Master’s offer, Obi-Wan got to his feet. “I can serve us, Master. I still remember where you keep everything.” As he walked into the kitchen he heard the soft sounds of the hoverchair’s movements, and as always it gave him a pang. It still seemed so odd to see the big figure in the hoverchair and to know that he would never be free of it. Six years since the Sith’s blade severed Qui-Gon’s spine. Six long years since he had seen him stride proudly through the Temple. It seemed both a lifetime and a mere moment. “You dwell on things you cannot change,” Qui-Gon chided from behind him. Blinking away tears, Obi-Wan turned with a guilty smile. “It’s rude to peek into my thoughts, you know.” “Your shields were down, little one.” “Now that I won’t believe. My shields are better than ever because of Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolded. “I don’t dare let the boy catch a stray thought.” “Or he’ll use it against you,” Qui-Gon guessed shrewdly. The younger man nodded as he began to prepare some tea. “Exactly!” The chime on Qui-Gon’s door rang out. “I’ll get the door; you make the tea,” Qui-Gon said as he gave his chair a sharp turn. Anakin had tinkered with it and now the turning radius on it was incredible. In fact, Obi-Wan was sure that his Padawan had added a good bit of speed to it as well, if Qui-Gon’s pace as he zipped through the corridors was any indication. Qui-Gon motioned the door open. A tall, slim figure stood in the doorway, shoulders slumped. “I did it again,” he announced in a morose tone without preamble as he shuffled into the apartment. “Done what?” Qui-Gon asked, though he already knew the answer. Anakin held up his hand and began listing his transgressions. “First, I snuck out of the Temple way past curfew,” he said solemnly. “And then I gambled, which is specifically against the rules.” “It most certainly is,” Qui-Gon agreed. “But I did win,” Anakin mused. “That ought to count for something, shouldn’t it?” “Not really,” the Jedi Master replied. Anakin shrugged and then let his lanky frame drop into the same chair favored by Obi-Wan. “I’m sure Master Obi-Wan will be here soon to fill you in on my latest escapades.” He smirked. “That boy will be the death of me,” he said in a credible imitation of Obi-Wan’s cultured tones. “And so you shall,” Obi-Wan said from the hallway. “And don’t forget the fighting, Padawan. You got into a brawl in that cantina - a cantina you shouldn’t even have been in, I might add.” The young man flushed. “You’re getting faster in your old age, Master,” he grumbled. “Keeping up with you has made me fleet of foot.” “He’s still sore,” Anakin said to Qui-Gon. “It appears that way,” Qui-Gon said. Coming to his feet, Anakin stood before his Master and gave him a bow of respect. “I most humbly beg your pardon, Master, for my actions.” Obi-Wan stared at him with twinkling eyes. “I don’t think you know the meaning of the word humble, Anakin Skywalker.” Grinning, he replied, “Sure I do, Master.” Then, closing his eyes and reciting from memory he said, “Characterized by modesty or meekness in behavior, attitude, or spirit.” “So you know the meaning,” Obi-Wan conceded. “But you don’t do humble.” Tilting his head to the side, Anakin considered this. Then he smirked. “No, I guess I don’t.” Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. “Do you see what you saddled me with?” But his tone was affectionate and he ruffled Anakin’s hair as he walked by him to take his Master’s tea to him. “Yeah, scary isn’t it, Master Qui-Gon?” Anakin said as he grabbed Obi-Wan’s tea and took a slurping gulp. Obi-Wan winced at the sound. “You might have gotten stuck with me!” Qui-Gon gave a mock shudder. “I still have nightmares, believe me.” “I am living your nightmare,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin threw him a disgruntled glance. “All right you two, enough of that. I’m the Chosen One after all.” Qui-Gon burst out laughing and was joined by Obi-Wan and even Anakin couldn’t help but join in, for even he saw the humor in his words. ****************************** “Master, will you join us for dinner later tonight?” Obi-Wan asked as they made ready to leave a few hours later. “Of course,” he replied. Then he stopped. “Wait, who’s cooking?” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Anakin is cooking, if you must know.” “Why then yes, I’ll come.” “You’re learning, Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin said. They bid Qui-Gon farewell and then Obi-Wan and his apprentice made their way back to their quarters. Anakin walked beside him in silence, but seemed thoughtful. “What is it Anakin?” Obi-Wan said in an encouraging voice. Biting his lip, Anakin was silent for a moment. “Do you ever wish that Qui-Gon hadn’t been injured so he could have been my Master?” Without hesitation, Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s shoulder and answered. “I wish every day that Qui-Gon had not been injured,” he said and felt Anakin stiffen. “But every day I am also grateful that I have had the honor and privilege of being your Master.” A proud smile slipped into place on Anakin’s young face and as he walked through the corridors it might be said that there was a strut to his steps. Obi-Wan walked by his side and knew that no matter how exasperating and rebellious his Padawan might be, he would not give up the joy of teaching him for anything in this galaxy. And he knew a moment of swift joy that his own Master was there by his side, guiding him along the path. Between Anakin and Qui-Gon, he knew his life was a fulfilling one indeed. Qui-Gon being handicapped might seem an odd notion, but for me it was actually pretty ordinary. My oldest son is in a wheelchair and has been in one for over a decade. We've learned that while it has changed his life, it doesn't have to change his dreams. In this case, the injury and the long recovery led the Council to entrust Obi-Wan with Anakin's care, but with the understanding that Qui-Gon would always be there to help him. Qui-Gon's life is indeed, a life fulfilled. Ugh, stupid mark-up codes! -----signature----- If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Army Mom! HOOAH! Adopt a soldier: http://soldiersangels.org/
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rhonderoo Title: Former Head Admin Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 6/13/05 2:03pm Subject: RE: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader Character Challenges - Anakin/Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon entries
	I really liked this, VaderLVR!!! I can see Qui-Gon still providing mentorship and wisdom even though he is physically handicapped. And your son sounds like a very special young man. -----signature----- DT421
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