For
graycastle:
Just Names for Sides
Luke seized the princess' hand and sprinted after Han and Chewie across the flight deck. Ahead of him the pilot and the Wookie shot down the storm troopers guarding the Millenium Falcon. As he was about to run up the ramp into the ship, Luke paused, his senses prickling. He spun round to see his teacher step out into a side room across the flight deck. From the other side of the room, Vader slid, dark and menacing, the sound of his breathing apparatus hellish and loud.
'Ben!' Luke cried, stepping back from the ramp.
'Come on, kid!' Han yelled.
* * *
The Jedi and the Dark Lord of the Sith faced each other silently, and then their lightsabres hummed into life.
'Dark Lord of the Sith?' Kenobi asked irritably. 'Had you just read too many bad novels that day?'
'I was pressed for time, and had to come up with something, you know how it is,' Vader said, circling round him slowly.
'Oh, I know all right. Tacky. Very tacky.'
'Well, I'm sorry, Mr member-of-an-ascetic-warrior-order. How's that working out for you, anyway? Found a planet with cream buns, yet? Ow!'
The beams of light clashed with angry sparks and high pitched whines of energy. The opponents separated, circling warily.
'I'm tired of sitting round, babysitting these people,' Kenobi said, feinting with his lightsabre. 'I want to go somewhere else.'
'Fine. So quit, I win, I get the write up on this.'
'No, I want a draw, something we can both claim.'
'No way, I deserve a raise. I'll buy you a really good dinner . . . You know, anyone with half an eye could tell you're not really trying to kill me.'
'It's this blasted welding torch,' Kenobi said. 'It doesn't handle anywhere near as well as a real flaming sword.' He executed a sudden fast move, leaving afterimages flickering on the vision of the only human currently watching them. 'Was that better?' he asked sweetly, as Vader brought his lightsabre up hurriedly to block.
'Bastard,' Vader muttered, trying to cut Kenobi's head off.
'Kill me,' Kenobi said suddenly. 'You haven't done that for ages - you get a nice commendation, I get not to look at that over-enthusiastic boy's face for one second longer.'
'Your idea of a draw has changed, hasn't it?' Vader said, laughing. 'Happy to oblige, though.' He brought his lightsabre round and seemed surprised to have it blocked.
'Wait. You have no patience, dear boy. You kill me, then I give that child some inspiration in how to destroy this monstrosity of yours. You get the commendation for killing me, I get one for stopping this force of evil and oppression. And probably blow you up into the bargain. We both get commendations, we both get a slap on the wrist for unauthorised discorporation, we both get the hell - if you'll excuse me - out of here.'
'Hmm,' said Vader. 'OK. But how are you going to tell your little pal anything once you don't have a material body? You know the bastards never pay proper attention.'
'He's strong in the Force,' Kenobi said. 'He'll be able to hear me.'
'Ohhh, the Force,' Vader said sarcastically.
'Yes, dear. He is. He's very sensitive, has very good hearing, very good reflexes, some minor abilities to shape his surroundings to the way he wants them to be. He's remarkably better than most humans. Tell me,' Kenobi said with an evil smile, 'does the name "Amidala" ring a bell?'
Despite his features being concealed behind the sinister black helmet, Vader wore an air of considerable embarrassment.
'Ah,' he said. 'Um. Er. Don't put that on your report, OK? Um. Yes, I think I can agree to your plan. Just blow me up as quickly as you can, and let us never speak of this again.'
'See you soon,' Kenobi said with a wink, and turned his lightsabre off.
Vader brought his blade down sharply, and Kenobi crumpled to the floor. From across the flight deck came an anguished cry of 'Ben!' Vader looked up as the boy was dragged into his ship by his friends.
'Must take after his mother,' he muttered, and snorted in dry amusement as he looked back at Kenobi's body. It had vanished away, leaving only his worn, shabby robe. 'Show-off,' Vader said cheerfully, looking at something no one else could see. Then he straightened and assumed once more his air of brooding menace, and stalked away to ready his affairs for the end. He hoped it came soon. He could really use a drink.