Chapter Text
Darth Vader was uncomfortable.
This was not unusual considering that almost his entire existence consisted of pain and discomfort, and he needed what was essentially, a poorly made portable life support suit in order to survive every day without suffocating to death. Yet this discomfort was different. It was not the discomfort of Forced breaths from burnt lungs or pinched skin and metal joints grating against seared flesh. It was a discomfort in the Force. No, not a discomfort. A disturbance. And a disturbance in the Force would require meditation. Vader despised mediation.
That was one thing that hadn’t changed since…
Vader spun around and stormed down the hallway of his flagship, Stormtroopers saluting as he strode past and officers squirming under the thunderous sound of his heavy boots striking the cold floors.
The Force was grating at Vader with memories of the life he had forgotten. The life he had erased. Perhaps it was due to all of this recent business with Kenobi… Vader’s hands curled into fists at the mere thought of the traitorous name.
‘Yes’, he thought. ‘The disturbance. It must be Kenobi. It has always been about Kenobi.’
Vader had reached the bridge now and addressed the Fifth Brother, or whatever rank the inquisitor had decided to claim for himself that day. He didn’t keep up with their petty squabbles.
“Where is the Third Sister?”
Vader’s voice was cold and even, a side effect of the vocoder in the helmet he had been wearing for over ten years now. It allowed for no emotion and brokered no argument.
“At the Fortress, My Lord,” The Brother replied swiftly.
“Does she have Kenobi?”
Vader doubted it. Kenobi may have been weak, but the Third Sister was inconsequential. He knew who she was. A youngling of little training besides what he and her fellow inquisitors had provided. Even in Kenobi’s weakened state, she could not best him.
“No, My Lord,” the Brother spoke again with a grin, gladdened by his comrade's failure.
Vader raised his hand and, with a sigh that could not be picked up by the vocoder, began to squeeze it into a fist. Over the sounds of the Fifth Brother’s choking gasps and the shuffling of uncomfortable officers' boots, he spoke,
“Your petty squabbles are of no consequence to me,” he dropped the inquisitor in an ungraceful heap.
The Fifth Brother’s hands immediately flew to his throat as he gasped for air. Pathetic.
“Kenobi is all that matters,” Vader stated.
His own breaths, forced from broken lungs still forced to breathe, sped up painfully in his rage at the thought of his old master. He turned back to the star chart that showed their course was set for Fortress Inquisitorious, the Mustafar System. He turned back towards the quivering admiral.
“Why is our course set for the Fortress?”
The admiral nearly choked without a single thought on Vader’s part from his fear alone. He was saved from answering or a fate similar to Vader's useless lackey when the Fourth Sister finally spoke up.
“She has a girl.”
Vader turned to her. He hadn't even realised she was in the room before now. Perhaps she wouldn't be if she didn't say something that provided merit with her next breath.
“A girl?”
“Yes, My Lord."
His fingers twitched. That was not meritable.
Yet The Fourth Sister did not falter under his ire, and that was enough to stay Vader’s hand. She was not as fearful as her Brother. If he cared for the inquisitors at all, he may have been impressed.
“Third Sister has captured a girl, one she believes Kenobi cares about enough to mount a rescue,” The sister continued.
The bridge was silent for several moments. The only sound Vader’s cold, mechanical breaths. It was broken when he spoke,
“Admiral?”
“My L-Lord?” The admiral practically tripped over the Fifth Brother, who was only now managing to catch his breath, in his effort to jump to attention.
“Continue your course. Do not disturb me unless it is on a direct request from the Emperor or upon our arrival at Fortress Inquisitorious.”
Vader turned and strode from the bridge, the Force swirling around him like the cold, empty depths of dead space. Something was different. The disturbance was growing yet still felt just out of reach.
He reached out with the force and felt something… warm.
Before he could shut himself off from the feeling, Vader was seized with images. A boy and a young man flying too fast across the Coruscanti skyline. The same pair, older now, fighting side by side, a battalion of brothers behind them. The pair fighting crossing blades, pain, pain, painpainpainpainpain, BURNING -
Vader slammed his mental shields up with a ferocity so strong he felt the walls of the hall surrounding him shudder. A cold fury seeped out of Vader and into the Force, quickly snuffing out any sense of lingering warmth that had survived his initial blast of anger.
‘Kenobi,’ he thought with venom.
Perhaps he would not have to meditate after all.
The disturbance was close.
Kenobi was close.