MUSTAFAR:10BBY

VIII

Keelan's hands were stuck in a repeated motion, wiping a cloth over and over on the black durasteel of Lord Vader's helmet. He polished over and over, as if the repeated motion would keep him from thinking too much but it seemed to be only worsening as he went on. Over and over, his thoughts were like a broken record, scratching at the inside of his skull. He tried to do it harder, to make sure there was not a single spec of dust on this helmet.

Baize was standing nearby, he was looking over a clipboard, he was frowning deeply in what seemed like a mixture of annoyance and concern. "For god's sake, it's clean, boy." Baize's voice, as soft as it was, still managed to startle him.

"Why is the empire hunting down jedi?" Keelan's voice burst out of his mouth before he could really think about it. He put the helmet down on the table with a thud.

Baize only frowned deeper, then cast a glance towards the bacta tank that Vader floated in peacefully. He looked back to Keelan and stepped towards him slowly.

"9 years ago, the Jedi attempted to kill the current reigning emperor. Since then, the Jedi have been branded as traitors and have been hunted down." He explained. "Any Jedi that intended to survive pledged themselves to the emperor and became Inquisitors, then they became the leading force to hunt the rest down.

"Jedi hunting Jedi." Keelan whispered.

"Exactly." Baize murmured. "And that's the way things work in the empire. You did a good thing turning in those Jedi."

Keelan tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, his eyes on the floor. "Because I... served the empire?" He whispered.

The older man was quiet for several long seconds then spoke again. "Because you served yourself." He told him, "I don't care much for who's right or wrong, everyone has something that makes them an enemy in another man's eyes. People are always going to fight and it doesn't matter if you win or lose, whether you live or not should be the focus."

Keelan was quiet, his feelings were mixed up about Baize's words, and his dark eyes looked up across the officer's face. "Why are you telling me this?" He murmured.

"I'm just saying it was you or them. And they had sabers." Baize sighed, looking down to his clipboard again as if he were bored. "They had a chance when you didn't, so you chose yourself."

Keelan let out a sigh and stared at the reflection of himself in the helmet. "I didn't have a choice though..." He whispered. "Not really."

A hand slowly came up to pat Keelan's shoulder, making him flinch. Baize still was looking at his clipboard,, he seemed to be not thinking too much about what he was doing but the touch felt comforting.

"That's the empire for you," Sir said. "Now, back to work."

Keelan took a deep breath, then nodded, returning to polishing down an arm piece. There was silence for several minutes, their ears listening to the hum of the machinery and a few hisses of air coming up from the bacta tank nearby.

"I see those gloves are helping." Baize told him, breaking the quiet in the air once again.

Keelan paused to look at his black gloved hands. "Yes, sir..." He mumbled, he squeezed his left hand into a fist. "Did Vader really-" He began.

"Lord." Baize cut in. "Lord Vader."

"Lord Vader, yes, I apologize, I'm sorry..." He said right away, his throat feeling tight again suddenly. "Did Lord Vader really send these to me?"

The older man was silent then he turned back to his clipboard, his eyes squinting at the small print. "Yes." Baize muttered. "He emerged from his tank last night for a few hours to tend to a few things, then ordered I send those to your room this morning."