|Letter to the Galaxy
Author: rhonderoo PM
Darth Vader gets some things off of his chest.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - Darth Vader - Words: 776 - Reviews: 30 - Favs: 57 - Follows: 4 - Published: 11-11-04 - id: 2131110
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Letter to the Galaxy
by Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith
First, let us get this out in the open - immediately. I do not stalk the streets of Coruscant at night looking for kittens to dismember. I am a Dark Lord of the Sith, not a common criminal, for the love of the Emperor. The last time I did anything remotely similar was when that Devoronian idiot stepped on my cape at the last Imperial function that my Master insisted I attend. And that was appropriate. It was entirely his fault. How stupid must you be to get close enough to me to step on my cape?
Moving on. I do not drink blood, collect body parts or shrink heads. After all, I do all of the work in the galaxy, and the Emperor must have SOMETHING to do. If it were not for me he'd be back in the Senate pouring tea for Bail Organa, or dead. Since we are on the subject of dead... How did his face get like that? When I accepted this assignment, I was told the dark side would be everlasting life. I must go back and look at my contract. He should look into the whole mask concept. And his breath... Pardon me, I digress.
I do not purposely and/or maliciously set out to do mayhem and murder each day, although it does sometimes unfortunately happen. Sometimes it is actually me that does these terrible and unfortunate things, although I am positive that your confidence in my ability to be 23 places at one time does sometimes lend itself to skepticism.
Furthermore, I take no delight in killing those of you that are unfortunate enough to step a little too far over the line, although you would be behooved to learn your limits, I'm getting impatient and irritable in my old age. I have never gotten any extreme pleasure out of impaling, dismembering, or choking any victim that has had the unfortunate pleasure of, how shall I say it....ticking me off. Except maybe the Hutt who tried to sell me a slave, but that is a different story for another time.
My point is this - I believe you all get somewhat carried away in your...perceptions of me. My intention was always to bring order to the galaxy; it is not my fault that you, the galaxy as a whole - lack discipline.
Now, on to the whole "torturing and trying to kill my own children" thing - and do not interrupt me with so called "facts"; I have not completely forgotten how to use a Force choke. Why in the name of Yoda would I try to kill my own son? So he can be a bit of a complainer... Okay, he can be very whiny. But I daresay that is probably the only bad trait he inherited from his mother. And looking back it should be decidedly evident that I was trying to teach the boy a lesson. You will notice that only when I pushed "THE" Skywalker button did he beat me. Ahem, I mean...did I let him beat me.
His sister, on the other hand is definitely my kid. Granted she may have gotten a little misguided in her intentions along the way, but never let it be said that one can cross her and come away unscathed. Now if only she would improve her taste in men. At least he can fly. Pilots can be dashing figures. Just ask her mother.
And finally, my favorite subject, Obi-Wan. I have heard various snide remarks regarding my refusal to LET IT GO. In my defense, I must say that it is only because he owes me 20 credits that I even remember him. Oh, and the fact that he ATTEMPTED TO KILL ME. And let me tell you, it was not like living in the same quarters with him for 13 years was a vacation on Naboo. He snored. He was always grumpy in the morning, and he never remembered the code to the entry pad. I know what you are saying, that I am obsessed. But you would be too; if he STILL came to you constantly to gloat that he knew all along of the "good in there." Damn! Why must he always be right???
Having said my piece, I'm sure we can move forward for a mutually beneficial understanding. I am sure you will no longer see the need to tremble with trepidation when you hear of me. That is...unless you step near the cape.