Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. (A/N: small changes at the end)
The stars mocked him once again.
The years had arrived and weighted him down. His prosthetic joints still carried on their task. The microscopic computers counted, measured and processed data they collected and passed on. Unyielding, the computers and tiny motors continued the work they were created for. They kept on going, but today he felt old.
The silent lullaby of the tiny engines humming in his ears, he stared at the stars, and they stared back at him.
Yet the only answer came from the distant suns in the abysmal space.
Darth Vader didn't dare speaking out loud. His thoughts reached out for the light that just moments ago had replied to his call. He could not bring himself to banish the echo of the word out of his mind, even when he should.
Ever since Darth Vader had learned about his son, he had called for him, but never received an answer - until now. Warmth and light, nearly burning bright, all so strange and yet familiar at the same time, heard him. Reached for him. And touched him.
Whisper of the memory trailed across his spine; and Vader recoiled whilst still clung on to it.
Just a word. One word. But it had torn his world in two.
So he stayed, and watched, and called. Because he could not abandon the hope.
The stars alone heard him. But the only thing they were able to and had ever given him was separation. From his mother. From his wife. And now from his son. The stars mocked him once again. His thoughts were amongst the stars and with his son, but he remained alone.
And resigned, because Darth Vader was too weary to hate, too tired to believe - to hope; and because he had come too far to feel anymore, he turned his back. The humming of the computers as his sole companion, he walked slowly away, because there was nothing else to do, but to turn away. From his mother. From his wife. And now from his son.
And never in his life, Darth Vader had felt so old.