Oneshot Story Ideas & Fun Stories

Fun Story #20: Return of the Jedi: Death of Sidious Different Version.

Slowly, Luke and Vader circled. Lightsaber high above his head, Luke readied his attack from classic first-position; the Dark Lord held a lateral stance, in classic answer. Without announcement, Luke brought his blade straight down then, when Vader moved to parry, Luke feinted and cut low. Vader counterparried, let the impact direct his sword toward Luke’s throat... but Luke met the riposte and stepped back. The first blows, traded without injury. Again, they circled. Vader was impressed with Luke’s speed.

Pleased, even. It was a pity, almost, he couldn’t let the boy kill the Emperor yet. Luke wasn’t ready for that, emotionally. There was still a chance Luke would return to his friends if he destroyed the Emperor now. He needed more extensive tutelage, first training by both Vader and Palpatine before he’d be ready to assume his place at Vader’s right hand, ruling the galaxy.

So Vader had to shepherd the boy through periods like this, stop him from doing damage in the wrong places or in the right places prematurely. Before Vader could gather his thoughts much further, though, Luke attacked again much more aggressively. He advanced in a flurry of lunges, each met with a loud crack of Vader’s phosphorescent saber. The Dark Lord retreated a step at every slash, swiveling once to bring his cutting beam up viciously but Luke batted it away, pushing Vader back yet again. The Lord of the Sith momentarily lost his footing on the stairs and tumbled to his knees.

Luke stood above him, at the top of the staircase, heady with his own power. It was in his hands, now, he knew it was: he could take Vader. Take his blade, take his life. Take his place at the Emperor’s side. Yes, even that. Luke didn’t bury the thought, this time; he gloried in it. He engorged himself with its juices, felt its power tingle his cheeks.

It made him feverish, this thought, with lust so overpowering as to totally obliterate all other considerations. He had the power; the choice was his. And then another thought emerged, slowly compulsive as an ardent lover: he could destroy the Emperor, too. Destroy them both, and rule the galaxy. Avenge and conquer. It was a profound moment for Luke.

Dizzying. Yet he did not swoon. Nor did he recoil. He took one step forward. For the first time, the thought entered Vader’s consciousness that his son might best him. He was astounded by the strength Luke had acquired since their last duel, in Cloud City, not to mention the boy’s timing, which was honed to a thought’s breadth. This was an unexpected circumstance.

Unexpected and unwelcome. Vader felt humiliation crawling in on the tail unwelcome. Vader felt humiliation crawling in on the tail of his first reaction, which was surprise, and his second, which was fear. And then the edge of the humiliation curled up, to reveal bald anger. And now he wanted revenge.

These things were mirrored, each facet, by the young Jedi who now towered above him. The Emperor, watching joyously, saw this, and goaded Luke on to revel in his Darkness. “Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Yes! Let the hate flow through you! Become one with it, let it nourish you!”

Luke faltered a moment then realized what was happening. He was suddenly confused again. What did he want? What should he do?

His brief exultation, his microsecond of dark clarity gone, now, in a wash of indecision, veiled enigma. Cold awakening from a passionate flirtation. He took a step back, lowered his sword, relaxed, and tried to drive the hatred from his being. In that instant, Vader attacked. He lunged half up the stairs, forcing Luke to reverse defensively.

He bound the boy’s blade with his own, but Luke disengaged and leaped to the safety of an overhead gantry. Vader jumped over the railing to the floor beneath the platform on which Luke stood. “I will not fight you, Father,” Luke stated. “You are unwise to lower your defenses,” Vader warned. His anger was layered, now he did not want to win if the boy was not battling to the fullest. But if winning meant he had to kill a boy who wouldn’t fight… then he could do that, too.