Star Wars: Heir to the Sith (Part 1) (#Wattys2018 shortlist)

Prologue: The Sanctuary Command.

The dagger-shaped hull of the Executor filled the top half of the shuttle's cockpit view screen as the ship started its approach. Aboard the capital ship, the three-hundred thousand strong crew were drilled and prepared. Numerous TIEs patrolled the nearby space, the pilots in a high state of readiness. Nerves were being tested as the waiting continued. It wouldn't be long now.

For a battle was imminent.

One of the shuttle pilots activated the communications.

"This is shuttle ST-321 on approach from the Sanctuary Moon. Confirm the shield is lowered and that we are cleared to proceed."

A silence filled the cockpit. The passenger sensed the deep unease in the two pilots. Did they feel he was testing them? He had flown the ship down to the moon a short while before, but upon the return journey he had decided to stand in silence, motionless in deep contemplation.

"ST-321," a voice crackled. "The shield is down. You are cleared to proceed."

"Very good."

The pilot increased the velocity and the shuttle gained speed as it travelled along the underside of the Executor. As the bow of the command ship tapered off to a fine point above them, an even greater sight filled the view screen beyond.

The Death Star.

Even unfinished it was an awe-inspiring sight, bigger and far more powerful than its ill-fated predecessor. There had never been anything so destructive in all the galaxy's history.

Exactly the same could be said for the mind that had conceived it.

Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

Darth Vader felt the anger in him grow at the thought of the man who had manipulated his entire adult life. His compassion had waned over the course of one battle after another, his youthful idealism lost to the horror of conflict and the futility of war. All of it orchestrated by Palpatine.

There had only ever been one shining light for him to hold onto, a secret, forbidden love. It was the only thing he had ever truly fought for.

Padme.

It always astounded him, in hindsight. How a human woman, not normal, for Padme was far beyond that, but without the Force nonetheless, had provoked such powerful feelings in him. Not even Palpatine, with his immense command of the Force, had ever come near to such complete domination of his soul.

Love had done that, he realised. Both given and received without condition.

And he had killed her, seduced by Palpatine's promises of being able to protect her, desperate for the power that he alone said he could offer.

He had lied then, Vader now believed. And that lie had caused him to betray his friends, to kill them and to drive all that they had once fought for from the galaxy.

Everything Padme had stood for had perished under his own anger. Anakin Skywalker had suffered and lost. And Darth Vader had been determined that the rest of the galaxy would feel such pain if it opposed him.

But if Padme could see him from beyond death, then she must surely hate him now? He was so utterly beyond redemption, falling so far to a place where no light could reach.

Or was he?

Vader turned to look back at the single prisoner who sat in the darkness behind. He felt the younger man's unblinking eyes bore into him, perceiving far more than the armoured suit that kept Vader alive, perceiving the pain-filled dungeon that that suit had become, the mobile-torture chamber that kept him in a living agony, his body blistered and burned and beyond the ability of any bacta tank to heal. The young man felt his conflict.

And his fear.

For Vader was afraid. Within the next few hours, a battle would indeed be fought, one against which the concept of rebel freedom fighters against Imperial tyranny was an irrelevance.

This was the real battle. The Sith, facing the return of the Jedi to a galaxy that had long suppressed the very knowledge of them. Today, one would triumph over the other. It was the conclusion to more than a millennium of planning and secret conflict.

Within a few short hours, the fate of the galaxy would be decided by his prisoner.

Vader dared to reach out, to test the strength of the youngster before him.

Yet he recoiled at once, surprised at the potency of his power.

He was strong. Far stronger than the last time they had met. Perhaps he had the power to do what he had never been able to?

Perhaps he really could destroy the Emperor.

If he would only embrace the Dark Side! Then he would certainly have the strength to do it.

Yes. That is what he needed him to do. Between his master and himself, they would make sure he would accept it.

And when that was done . . .

Darth Vader turned back to the cockpit.

"Send the Sanctuary Command," he ordered. "To all of them. Let there be an end to it."

The pilot obeyed and the signal was sent across the galactic HoloNet.

In the view screen, the Death Star neared. Vader felt its draw greater than any gravity. Here, it would happen. The conclusion to his life, to the great failure he had become. Or would it be different? Would it be a new beginning?

Would he rule the Empire?

Darth Vader turned to look back at the seated prisoner.

But Luke Skywalker remained silent.

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