Which wasn't to say he found her unpleasant; he found her pleasant in a way akin to how he admired a well-crafted speeder or the beauty of an elegant weapon. He noticed and appreciated them, but nothing went deeper than that. He reasoned that such a response wasn't uncommon, knowing that even his master recognized this. If anything was certain after experiencing the minds of so many people, it was that most people, especially men, felt that way about her.
Sidious nodded, appearing to contemplate his response, though he couldn't determine whether the man was pleased or not.
Then he sighed, stepping closer until he stood before him. "My plan would have been much easier had you simply allowed events to unfold as I foresaw," he said, dismissing the fact with a wave of his hand. "No matter. We must address this error to ensure it does not happen again."
Vader remained silent. There was no reason to respond.
"I hate to do this to you, Vader," Sidious sighed, although Vader could hear the smile in his voice.
Liar. "But you leave me with no choice."
I know.
"You must be punished."
Failure is unacceptable.
Every torture inflicted on Vader was unique, always varying, so the young Sith could never fully prepare for the pain he would endure. Sometimes, his master would use Sith lightning; at other times, he would physically harm him with a lightsaber or another torture device. Occasionally, he would invade his mind, forcing him to relive painful memories until he felt his mind turn to goo.
Vader preferred physical pain to mental anguish. He could endure the pain and even recover from it, but the memories were entirely different- a scar that would never fade– a wound that could never heal. Unfortunately for Vader, it seemed that Sidious was determined to make him suffer.
Like a sharp saber piercing his skull, his master gradually invaded his mind, reaching depths so profound that, if possible, they would have been completely erased from his consciousness. These were the memories that Vader had buried so deeply that even he couldn't uncover them. They belonged to a boy long gone, a boy who had died many years ago, yet Vader still felt the pain. It was as if Sidious held a knife, cutting inch by inch into his mind, searching for the right place to begin. He searched relentlessly until he unearthed the most painful memories, allowing them to replay in Vader's mind and forcing him to recall a life lost long ago- a life that could never return.
His mother kicked the man hard, causing him to stumble backward with a loud groan. She wasted no time freeing herself; instead, she pushed her son forward. "Run, Anakin!" she screamed, her voice both firm and frantic. "Run! I'm right behind you!"
Anakin pushed himself off the ground, stumbling forward as he struggled to regain his balance. He tried to follow his mother's command, running ahead while praying to any gods or greater forces that might be listening, hoping his mother was right behind him and that they would be all right.
He reached the doorway, ready to turn the knob, when a strange sound echoed from behind him. It was odd. Unusual. A sound he had heard in his dreams, yet could not place. He couldn't help but glance back, freezing instantly at the sight.
"Mom!" he cried, trying to warn her, but it was already too late.
"Ani!" His mother screamed as she saw her son stop, oblivious to her own fate. His name was the final word from his mother before the red blade pierced her chest.
"No!" Anakin screamed.
His mother's lifeless body fell to the ground, and his entire world shattered. His heart broke in his chest, and he felt the tears well up in his eyes.
He ran toward her but couldn't reach her. The scene shifted once more, and she stood in front of him.
He was younger, perhaps four. They were in their hut. She stood in the kitchen while he hid behind one of the inner walls, out of sight of their master. He could hear his master's voice from somewhere beyond. He saw two men in the kitchen, his mother shrinking back against the counter.
"No," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes as her gaze darted toward his room at the end of the hall. "Not here." His master said something, but he couldn't hear the words.
"No, no, I don't want to," his mother cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't make me do this."
He didn't know what to do; he wanted to stop her tears.
Watto hovered forward, his large eyes narrowing into a frown. He flicked his finger at her.
"You will do as I say," he said harshly, and his mother seemed to sink into the very ground. "Treat them nice. You didn't please my last paying customer."
One of the men stepped forward. His mother flinched but didn't move away as he touched her cheek. Anakin knew she didn't want this. He had to protect her. He needed to protect her. He stepped out from his hiding place, standing tall. "Don't touch her," the little boy said, and four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, though none were as horrified as his mother.
"Ani," she whispered, pointing down the hall. "Go to your room now. Close the door and don't come out until I tell you."
Anakin stood his ground, refusing to budge. He had to protect her.
"Ani," she pleaded as the other man advanced.
"I don't care; I'll do it in front of him."
"No," his mother said, swatting the man's hand away and stepping closer to her son.
"Listen to mommy, Ani," his mother said, striving to sound strong despite the tremor in her voice. "Go to your room. Close the door. I'll be there soon." Anakin yielded. He had no other option. He shot the men one final glare before turning away.
"Run along, little pup," one man laughed. "You don't want to see this."
Anakin retreated to his room and covered his ears from beneath his blanket.
The image shifted again, swirling to another night when he was the same age.
It was dark. He lay in bed, when suddenly a loud bang erupted, followed by a scream. His mom.
.
.
.
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