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Apr. 1st, 2006 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matril*snerk* I don't usually read much fan fic unless I know the author is decent (and has a basic grouding in spelling and punctuation) but once in a while, when I'm feeling snarky, I dive in for some laughs. Just read the phrase people usually gave them wide births, and I just about popped out an eye from laughing. I assume the intended word was "berths," but "births" makes for some very interesting images....
Anyway, now I'll offer my own work to be set up for ridicule. ;) It's a sort of companion piece to The Kid in the Junk Shop.
Iego
“My Lord?”
He was a nervous commander, Vader observed dispassionately, noting how his face tensed with fear. But that neither displeased nor excessively satisfied him. Fear was merely an extreme form of respect, and Vader had come to expect it.
“What is it, Commander?”
The officer had little poise or grace; an unsurprising observation since he had just graduated from the recently-founded Academy. He looked up awkwardly at Vader’s mask as if wondering whether any eyes were looking back, then stuttered out his report. “My Lord – er – we’ve received information that there may be rebels seeking refuge in deep space, somewhere within the Reshtot system.”
Vader waited, but the commander seemed to have run out of words. “And?” He put an edge of threat to his tone, as if to say Are you merely wasting my time or is there a point to your statement? The commander paled.
“Uh – I thought – since we’re within a few days journey from Reshtot – you might want to investigate it.” He looked tentatively into where he thought Vader’s face would be. “Sir.”
Vader let a long moment pass in dangerous silence, allowing the commander to envision what expression might be watching him behind the mask, enjoying his apprehension. Then he answered levelly, “A reasonable suggestion. Set your course for the Reshtot system.”
The commander repressed an obvious sigh of relief and nodded. “Yes, my lord.” He fairly fled Vader’s presence, as quickly as protocol allowed.
Vader allowed himself a grim smile. No one could deny the effect he had on the weak-willed. Some of the stronger-willed too, for that mater. It was a satisfying feeling.
Searching for the rebels was less than satisfying. They were fragmented, without much cohesion, but for that very reason they remained frustratingly out of his reach, scattered from one edge of the galaxy to the other. Now was the time to stamp them out, while still weak and disunited. Yet they continued to grow, their tiny, hopeless attacks becoming more and more frequent. It didn’t matter that they were futile attempts. They were an insult to the Empire and must be quelled on principle.
Vader had little doubt that Organa was a major player in the workings of the rebellion, but the man had an infuriating popularity in the Senate and in public opinion, so that an accusation without proof would be difficult to enforce. Eventually Vader would catch him, one way or another, but until then he fumed at every mention of Organa, with his cadre of sycophantic Senators, and his pampered little princess –
The thought of Organa coddling a child, something Vader had been denied, was too much. Sitting down in his meditation chamber, he put his system into rest mode and forced his thoughts onto their arrival at the Reshtot system. Gradually his heady anger settled to a safer simmer, and he brooded in the closest state to sleep that his prison of a suit allowed him.
~~~
After the Star Destroyer emerged from hyperspace, Vader came to the bridge to survey the vista of stars. He had visited more systems than he could count, perhaps more than any other being in the galaxy, over the course of completing the purge and seeking out seditious governments. This sector of the galaxy, however, was unfamiliar to him as yet.
All star systems looked the same from a distance, pinpricks of light that seemed in perpetual danger of being extinguished. It was a sort of lonely beauty that Vader gave himself a moment to indulge in. He was intimately acquainted with the fragile nature of existence, with the flickering fires of life that died all too easily. His hands clenched the railing, prosthetic against industrial metal, the flimsy fabric of his glove doing nothing against the ever-present cold. Nothing was certain; nothing was lasting but the Force. A bitter truth.
“My Lord?”
Vader released his grip and turned. “Yes, commander?”
“We’ve begun our initial search of the system.” The commander spilled out his report in an anxious rush. “Probes have been sent to every planet and inhabitable moon, seeking for signs of life or technology. Scout ships are ready to go out at your order.”
Vader nodded curtly. “How many possible habitations are in the system?” He began striding down the walkway; the commander struggled to keep pace. He appeared relieved, however, to have met with Vader’s approval.
“Seven, sir. Reshtot itself, and its sister planet Deshtot; Garrana’s two moons and Iego’s three –”
Vader halted and rounded on the commander. “What did you say?” His voice was quiet and controlled; nevertheless, the commander seemed to sense something unsettled below the surface and blinked, uneasy.
“Garrana,” he stumbled, “and Iego. Both have habitable moons. I – is something the matter, my lord?” he ventured almost daringly.
Vader brushed him off, his mind leaping ahead. “Ready my ship, commander. I shall see to Iego’s moons myself.”
“My lord,” the commander protested, “there is no need – we have many willing pilots – the moons’ orbits are known to be erratic, possibly dangerous –”
Turning to him, Vader demanded, “Are you questioning my abilities?”
The commander gasped out, “No, my lord,” and hastened to obey Vader’s commands without another word.
Iego.
A memory from a past life, sentimental and worthless. Yet Vader continued on his way to the hanger, climbed into the cockpit of his ship and loaded up the coordinates for Iego, without pause, without deliberation. The moons pulled him as inexorably as the destiny that had made him Vader.
~~~
Three moons. They circled a giant reddish planet, their orbits irregular and dangerously unpredictable. Navigating them required constant concentration and skill; landing on one of them was a gamble with death.
Vader loved it.
He seldom had the chance of late to work out difficult flight maneuvers and enjoy the solid feel of ship controls at his hands. There was simply no need for it most of the time. Now, however, he could indulge himself. The rush of breakneck speeds, sudden turns and leaps, swooping around and between and over and under –
This was what he was born to do.
If he had been younger, his other self, he might have let out a whoop. Instead he settled for a satisfied murmur. “Nothing else compares.”
Vader chose the smallest moon to start with. Skillfully adjusting the controls, he directed his ship through the atmosphere. Immediately he realized there would be little chance of finding rebels hidden there. The air was far too thin; it gave way for his ship with hardly a nudge. And his sensors picked up no technology, so no bases with generated atmospheres.
Some creatures, though, might thrive in conditions such as these...
Vader flew low, and located a series of honeycombed rocks, narrow caves that were just big enough for his ship. Vader found an opening and entered.
The passages of rock twisted back and forth bewilderingly; without his computer Vader might have been hard-pressed to find his way out again. The beams of his search-lights only seemed to accentuate the cavernous darkness. Utter emptiness. What was he doing here? There were no rebels, no purpose in searching these barren moons. A waste of time –
A vision of heart-rending perfection suddenly filled the viewscreen. Vader pulled the ship to a wrenching stop and stared.
Blast his masked senses. If only he could see unobscured – but even with the machine-generated sight, he knew there could be nothing more beautiful than this, a being of merging fragility and resilience, skin nearly transparent yet exuding a very solid warmth. Her eyes – and somehow he knew it was female – her eyes, deep and wise and sorrowing, twin wells of grief. Pained, yearning and filled with empathy. Delicate limbs, raised as if in surrender. Or perhaps blame.
Vader sat and stared, transfixed. Memories rose up in the angel’s wake, bitter-tasting, scorched with rage. And the pilot’s voice from years and years ago, a warning he had missed.
Take your breath away, angels do...
Vader started up the engines. The noise startled the angel, and she fled into the darkness. He handled the controls harshly, sharply methodical. The computer had to be powered up again; it may take some time to find a way out of the cave’s confines. Vader grimaced. A blasted, foolish waste of time.
He flew aimlessly through the passages, little enjoyment remaining in the pursuit. When he finally did make his way out, he ought to redouble his efforts to find pockets of rebels. And he would leave Iego well behind him.
Abruptly, the angel reappeared. Vader looked out at her blankly, slowing his ship down almost unconsciously. She tilted her head in a gesture like gentle beckoning, then started down a passage. Vader, without reason, found himself following. Through intricate twists and turns, into great hollows of darkness, the angel led him, until suddenly the entrance gaped open before them, radiant with sunlight.
Vader flew out in a burst of relief, then looked for the angel. She was gone.
He hesitated, his hand hovering over the controls. What was he waiting for? His crew would have long been expecting his return, and there were things to be done.
If he could have stolen just one more look into those eyes –
And then what?
Some memories were best left in darkness.
Vader flew his ship back into space at top speed.
Anyway, now I'll offer my own work to be set up for ridicule. ;) It's a sort of companion piece to The Kid in the Junk Shop.
Iego
“My Lord?”
He was a nervous commander, Vader observed dispassionately, noting how his face tensed with fear. But that neither displeased nor excessively satisfied him. Fear was merely an extreme form of respect, and Vader had come to expect it.
“What is it, Commander?”
The officer had little poise or grace; an unsurprising observation since he had just graduated from the recently-founded Academy. He looked up awkwardly at Vader’s mask as if wondering whether any eyes were looking back, then stuttered out his report. “My Lord – er – we’ve received information that there may be rebels seeking refuge in deep space, somewhere within the Reshtot system.”
Vader waited, but the commander seemed to have run out of words. “And?” He put an edge of threat to his tone, as if to say Are you merely wasting my time or is there a point to your statement? The commander paled.
“Uh – I thought – since we’re within a few days journey from Reshtot – you might want to investigate it.” He looked tentatively into where he thought Vader’s face would be. “Sir.”
Vader let a long moment pass in dangerous silence, allowing the commander to envision what expression might be watching him behind the mask, enjoying his apprehension. Then he answered levelly, “A reasonable suggestion. Set your course for the Reshtot system.”
The commander repressed an obvious sigh of relief and nodded. “Yes, my lord.” He fairly fled Vader’s presence, as quickly as protocol allowed.
Vader allowed himself a grim smile. No one could deny the effect he had on the weak-willed. Some of the stronger-willed too, for that mater. It was a satisfying feeling.
Searching for the rebels was less than satisfying. They were fragmented, without much cohesion, but for that very reason they remained frustratingly out of his reach, scattered from one edge of the galaxy to the other. Now was the time to stamp them out, while still weak and disunited. Yet they continued to grow, their tiny, hopeless attacks becoming more and more frequent. It didn’t matter that they were futile attempts. They were an insult to the Empire and must be quelled on principle.
Vader had little doubt that Organa was a major player in the workings of the rebellion, but the man had an infuriating popularity in the Senate and in public opinion, so that an accusation without proof would be difficult to enforce. Eventually Vader would catch him, one way or another, but until then he fumed at every mention of Organa, with his cadre of sycophantic Senators, and his pampered little princess –
The thought of Organa coddling a child, something Vader had been denied, was too much. Sitting down in his meditation chamber, he put his system into rest mode and forced his thoughts onto their arrival at the Reshtot system. Gradually his heady anger settled to a safer simmer, and he brooded in the closest state to sleep that his prison of a suit allowed him.
~~~
After the Star Destroyer emerged from hyperspace, Vader came to the bridge to survey the vista of stars. He had visited more systems than he could count, perhaps more than any other being in the galaxy, over the course of completing the purge and seeking out seditious governments. This sector of the galaxy, however, was unfamiliar to him as yet.
All star systems looked the same from a distance, pinpricks of light that seemed in perpetual danger of being extinguished. It was a sort of lonely beauty that Vader gave himself a moment to indulge in. He was intimately acquainted with the fragile nature of existence, with the flickering fires of life that died all too easily. His hands clenched the railing, prosthetic against industrial metal, the flimsy fabric of his glove doing nothing against the ever-present cold. Nothing was certain; nothing was lasting but the Force. A bitter truth.
“My Lord?”
Vader released his grip and turned. “Yes, commander?”
“We’ve begun our initial search of the system.” The commander spilled out his report in an anxious rush. “Probes have been sent to every planet and inhabitable moon, seeking for signs of life or technology. Scout ships are ready to go out at your order.”
Vader nodded curtly. “How many possible habitations are in the system?” He began striding down the walkway; the commander struggled to keep pace. He appeared relieved, however, to have met with Vader’s approval.
“Seven, sir. Reshtot itself, and its sister planet Deshtot; Garrana’s two moons and Iego’s three –”
Vader halted and rounded on the commander. “What did you say?” His voice was quiet and controlled; nevertheless, the commander seemed to sense something unsettled below the surface and blinked, uneasy.
“Garrana,” he stumbled, “and Iego. Both have habitable moons. I – is something the matter, my lord?” he ventured almost daringly.
Vader brushed him off, his mind leaping ahead. “Ready my ship, commander. I shall see to Iego’s moons myself.”
“My lord,” the commander protested, “there is no need – we have many willing pilots – the moons’ orbits are known to be erratic, possibly dangerous –”
Turning to him, Vader demanded, “Are you questioning my abilities?”
The commander gasped out, “No, my lord,” and hastened to obey Vader’s commands without another word.
Iego.
A memory from a past life, sentimental and worthless. Yet Vader continued on his way to the hanger, climbed into the cockpit of his ship and loaded up the coordinates for Iego, without pause, without deliberation. The moons pulled him as inexorably as the destiny that had made him Vader.
~~~
Three moons. They circled a giant reddish planet, their orbits irregular and dangerously unpredictable. Navigating them required constant concentration and skill; landing on one of them was a gamble with death.
Vader loved it.
He seldom had the chance of late to work out difficult flight maneuvers and enjoy the solid feel of ship controls at his hands. There was simply no need for it most of the time. Now, however, he could indulge himself. The rush of breakneck speeds, sudden turns and leaps, swooping around and between and over and under –
This was what he was born to do.
If he had been younger, his other self, he might have let out a whoop. Instead he settled for a satisfied murmur. “Nothing else compares.”
Vader chose the smallest moon to start with. Skillfully adjusting the controls, he directed his ship through the atmosphere. Immediately he realized there would be little chance of finding rebels hidden there. The air was far too thin; it gave way for his ship with hardly a nudge. And his sensors picked up no technology, so no bases with generated atmospheres.
Some creatures, though, might thrive in conditions such as these...
Vader flew low, and located a series of honeycombed rocks, narrow caves that were just big enough for his ship. Vader found an opening and entered.
The passages of rock twisted back and forth bewilderingly; without his computer Vader might have been hard-pressed to find his way out again. The beams of his search-lights only seemed to accentuate the cavernous darkness. Utter emptiness. What was he doing here? There were no rebels, no purpose in searching these barren moons. A waste of time –
A vision of heart-rending perfection suddenly filled the viewscreen. Vader pulled the ship to a wrenching stop and stared.
Blast his masked senses. If only he could see unobscured – but even with the machine-generated sight, he knew there could be nothing more beautiful than this, a being of merging fragility and resilience, skin nearly transparent yet exuding a very solid warmth. Her eyes – and somehow he knew it was female – her eyes, deep and wise and sorrowing, twin wells of grief. Pained, yearning and filled with empathy. Delicate limbs, raised as if in surrender. Or perhaps blame.
Vader sat and stared, transfixed. Memories rose up in the angel’s wake, bitter-tasting, scorched with rage. And the pilot’s voice from years and years ago, a warning he had missed.
Take your breath away, angels do...
Vader started up the engines. The noise startled the angel, and she fled into the darkness. He handled the controls harshly, sharply methodical. The computer had to be powered up again; it may take some time to find a way out of the cave’s confines. Vader grimaced. A blasted, foolish waste of time.
He flew aimlessly through the passages, little enjoyment remaining in the pursuit. When he finally did make his way out, he ought to redouble his efforts to find pockets of rebels. And he would leave Iego well behind him.
Abruptly, the angel reappeared. Vader looked out at her blankly, slowing his ship down almost unconsciously. She tilted her head in a gesture like gentle beckoning, then started down a passage. Vader, without reason, found himself following. Through intricate twists and turns, into great hollows of darkness, the angel led him, until suddenly the entrance gaped open before them, radiant with sunlight.
Vader flew out in a burst of relief, then looked for the angel. She was gone.
He hesitated, his hand hovering over the controls. What was he waiting for? His crew would have long been expecting his return, and there were things to be done.
If he could have stolen just one more look into those eyes –
And then what?
Some memories were best left in darkness.
Vader flew his ship back into space at top speed.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-02 10:04 pm (UTC)But yeah, love the story. It feels like it's a puzzle piece that belongs in the overall story when you put the two trilogies together, and that's always awesome.