Star Wars: Daughter of the Dark Force

Chapter 4: Enthusiastic Hatred

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Kimmy (AKA DarthKemberli)

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CHAPTER 4: ENTHUSIASTIC HATRED

"[Lord Kemberli] is frightening. When I look at her, I feel like I can see the hatred that's consuming her."

 - Tamia Gundree, commander of the Executor's 4th Squadron

I was hungry but I didn't want to eat.

I sat alone in the farthest corner of Mess Hall S5 - E, my legs pulled up on the bench and crossed beneath me. Though I had bonded with the dark side and pledged myself to Vader irrevocably, it would take me a while to accustom myself to seeing copies - clones - of the same person walking around with themselves. There were, of course, many normal people - usually higher-ranking officials - but the vast majority of Vader's soldiers were clones. Enough originals had been cloned to create some variety, but I still saw identical men and women together in the same room. It unsettled me, and I wondered how they coped living like that, knowing that they were the outcomes of technology, produced solely for the purpose of war.

Maybe they viewed it the way I did now: a necessity, even a desire, not something to be repulsed by. Though they were all programmed to be much the same, I knew that each one of them had an individual, unqiue soul. I felt their souls, warm presences brushing by my consciousness, none ever quite like another. Some were colder, some were warmer... Vader's presence was the coldest I had ever felt. But then again, I hadn't met very many other Sith.

Just the thought of Vader and his cold, cold soul roused my admiration. He was perfect, invincible, powerful. And truly and completely frightening. In his presence, I trembled no matter how hard I tried not to. His presence was too overpowering not to shiver. I could feel his Force power. It was cold, it was all-encompassing, and it was dark. So dark. Exactly like a black hole. I shuddered, remembering the way I was always drawn to stare at his face, though it could hardly be called a face. I was afraid of Vader, yet I craved the fear that consumed me when I was with him. It paralyzed my mind, yet it powered my limbs and my soul. I was so powerful now that I had joined the dark side. Strange to think that just two weeks ago, I had been so devastated to learn of my origins and my true purpose in life.

Abruptly I stood. Thinking this way was dangerous. I could easily slip and allow my deepest buried thoughts to force their way up to the surface of my mind. Distracting myself, I walked down between the benches, keeping my eyes in front to avoid the stares of the soldiers around me. They were all curious about me, but far too afraid to approach me, except when on errands. I preferred it that way: becoming too attached to individual persons could not have a positive effect on my progress in training.

The higher-uppers in my block, however, were less shy, especially the men. It irked me, but I refrained from being too rude with them. Impatience would be disgraceful for a Sith lord, so I remained calm, knowing that as time passed, they would lose interest. Hopefully my nearness to Vader would discourage them.

I took a tray - white, unsurprisingly - and joined the line. The woman in front of me was none other than Commander Gundree. I said nothing, indifferent as to whether or not she noticed me. After our first meeting in the halls, when I had broken into the Executor, we had met on several occasions, always in the company of Vader. She was one of Vader's most trusted lackeys, having served under him for several years now and having completed many dangerous combat missions. The Executor's Squadron Four was under her command. She was also an excellent pilot. I now recognized her by her light brown hair, loose and hanging down to her shoulders. She wore a tight nut-brown suit and her white trooper's boots. I had never seen her in anything else besides her trooper's suit, and I had to admit that her body was eye-catching. I didn't understand why, then, did the men bother with me when she dressed so much more appealingly.