Disclaimer: Do NOT own! I repeat I DO NOT OWN! It all belongs to George Lucas, I just borrow from him...without asking.

A oneshot, and my first Vader based drabble. I don't think it's the best I've ever written but there you go.
A missing scene between Episode III and Episode IV, because I thought it would be awesome if these two had a final moment.

Death of a Padawan

The imposing black mass of the Sith Lord hovered on the bridge of the Exactor, his heavy-plated boots thudding deafeningly on the metal flooring.
Every now and again his mechanic hands would drift down to his belt and the lightsaber that hung there, awaiting its next use. The rest of the crew noted this nervously, having witnessed attacks of the Sith's anger many times before.

Suddenly there was a rude buzzing as one of the control desks burst abruptly into life; a clear, blue holo-image springing up on the shining surface admidst the red lights and silver buttons.

"Yes Captain?" Vader's synthetic voice snapped out impatiently, face leaning towards the shimmering image.

"The prisoners are secured in docking bay 54 Lord Vader," the middle-aged, thick faced man said shrinking away, much to Vader's pleasure.
He held up three objects in one hand with a part-triumphant and part-terrified expression,
"What would you like me to do with these my Lord?"

Vader observed the objects without any indication of interest, he did not move as he barked the order in his low, rasping, mechanical tone.

"Have them sent to my chamber Captain."

With a stiff bow and approving nod, the Captain signed off, his 3-D figure vanishing from the console.

With immediate urgency the Sith threw a passing glance over his staff before setting off nosily down the halls.
Battalions of stormtroopers, their white armour shining in the harsh fluorescents, marched past, along with their officers, dressed in starched, olive suits.
Vader paid them no attention, not even pausing as the enormous, durasteel doors of the makeshift prison came into view, and slid open with the gentle hiss of escaping air.

Vader's red-tinted vision targeted the captives instantly, their humanoid forms hanging in the desolate space, their familiar brown robes covering their fragile, fleshy bodies.

Two males stared hard in his direction, their hands bound in front of them with magnetic cuffs.
Vader did not recognise them, their brown and silver eyes unknown to the Sith or his previous self.

But the third…

The knight was still small, perhaps smaller than he remembered, as if the overwhelming amount of death and devastation in the galaxy had pressed upon her shoulders too heavily. Thin too, as if she had not eaten well in months.
Rusty coloured skin was cross-hatched with an abundance of white scar tissue, and the string of blue-grey silka beads had been long disposed of.
But it was those eyes, the glinting blue that reminded him so strongly of his skies of his home world, which caught him, for they had lost their youthful sparkle, and now shone with a thin gleam of despair.

Ahsoka Tano….a child when he had announced her ready to be knighted, was now a woman.

A woman about to meet her death.

And it was her that stepped forward; her lips that peeled back over her teeth in a pained grimace; her hand that fell unconsciously to her waist, to the lightsaber that was not there.

"We meet at last Darth Vader," she hissed through her clenched jaw, eyes flashing, "You're not as terrifying as I've been told face to face."

If the mask had been able to move of its own will it would have formed a telling smile.
Apart from her appearance, it seemed she had not changed a bit.

He looked down at her, a smile pulling at the lips hidden behind the mask.

"And you, Ahsoka Tano, meet every expectation I had," he teased harshly, watching as she squirmed beneath his vacant, armoured eyes, "Your tongue is just as quick as I've heard, and just as uncontrolled. You really are as stupid as they say."

He paused, his eyes never leaving Tano's glaring face, before he spoke again,
"What would your Master say if he could see you now?"

That seemed to aggravate Tano, her face twisting into a disgusted expression, by her sides her little hands clenched into tight fists and blue eyes narrowed into ferocious slits.

Snarling, she glared at him from beneath feathered lashes.

"Don't you dare speak his name."

Behind his visor Vader felt his lips twitch up into some form of a smile; she didn't have a clue did she?
Despite the whisperings that criss-crossed the galaxy about the 'true' identity of Lord Vader, she was clearly still denying the idea that her beloved mentor was now raging the war on those he had once fought along side, prefering instead to believe in the accounts that Anakin Skywalker had been the first to fall by the mighty Sith's hand, his body never uncovered in the ruins of the Jedi temple; a hero to the end.

"And what if I did?" he teased, his eyes never leaving her face while he spat his words with all the venom that he could, "What would you do little Jedi?"

Her eyes remained narrowed, focusing in on him as if she could see right through his black shell to the ravaged body beneath.

"I would kill you."

She said it with such conviction he was, for a few seconds, rather shaken, until remembering who he was he resumed his towering pose over her, hands on his belt making sure she got a very clear sight that he was very-much armed; then he laughed, a sound which can out menacing and grating through the electronic synthesisers.

"It would do you well to remember which one of us is unarmed Miss Tano," he finished, pointing to her empty belt, "A Jedi with a lightsaber is barely a threat, yet alone without one," he waited for some witty response but none came, "Have you not heard the rumours about your old master?"

That got her attention once more, her face snapping back to stare at him.
If a Jedi was allowed to hate, then he would have named that emotion in her eyes at that moment.
Her teeth were bared together and a bestial growl reverberated low in her throat; even the others in the group seemed frightened at his sudden turn in her mood.
But Vader found it quite amusing, apparently he had hit a tender nerve.
One he would prod at a little more before he granted her the final honour.

"Don't you dare!" she snarled at him, her fingers curling into fists at her side once more.

"Rumours that say it was your dear Master, your idol, that betrayed your pitiful order."

With each word her blue orbs flashed crimson, her fists balling up tighter and tighter.

He watched as every muscle in her face clenched in turn, her teeth gritting together as she worked her jaw in disciplined, little circles.
From the occasional mumble that left her mouth he could tell she wanted to say something but her anger had gone beyond all known language.

It wouldn't be long before she snapped.

Turning his back on her he paced away, giving her time to simmer in her own rage for a while; her eyes followed his every movement, he could feel them like blaster bolts in his back, but it only served to amuse him more.

When he was certain his prolonged ignoring had stewed up as much hatred as possible, he turned back to her, pointing his lifeless eyes straight at hers.

"How amusing," he said, in the most deadpan tone he could, motioning his hand at her fists and scowling forehead, "Your anger is so strong. Not much of a Jedi are we?"

And that was it. That was all it took to bring about Ahsoka's downfall.
He had known it, after all he had trained her, she was passionate just like he…..just like Anakin had been: press the right buttons and her smouldering core would ignite, he had seen it all too often during her Padawan years.

She sprung at him, flipping over in the air and aiming her foot right at the centre of his chest.
He had to admit she was quite impressive, even when she was exhausted, half-starved and facing her death: she would have made a great ally, but he knew her well enough to know she would never accept the power that he had. And that was why she would never be able to defeat him.

A hand flashed out catching her foot where it hung in mid-air; she didn't cry out, dangling upside down in his vice-like grip as small as ever beside his hulking form.
He watched her struggle for a while, writhing back and forth in an attempt to wriggle free of his hands then suddenly and silently becoming quite still, realising that her fighting was all in vain with the meek acceptance that was common for all those Jedi-scum.

"Enough fighting," he said, nodding for the six white-armoured troopers to come forward.
The end was fast approaching.

"It is time for you to become one with the force."

Tano's expression did not twitch, she had been expecting this all along, after all Vader was the scourge of the Jedi, the leader of the Great Purge, his very identity came from destroying all the Jedi that crossed his path, unless they could first be converted.
And time had run out for the three gathered before him.

He nodded again, and the room was filled with well-aimed blaster fire, the red bolts flashing past him and the motionless figure of his captive. Even with their enhanced agility and lightning reflexes the two men could not escape the onslaught of the Empire and after three minutes of sustained fire the dull thuds of their bodies could be heard; the troopers lowered their weapons.

Ahsoka glanced over at the fallen figures of her comrades, and only then did she let her calm façade slip: her lips dropped into a sad line, and her big eyes seemed to turn a paler shade of blue.

"And now," Vader announced coldly, releasing his grip and letting her fall with a bump to the grated metal floor, "It is your turn."

The young female shuffled back across the floor, her eyes transfixed on his helmet like it was some form of devil.
Coming to her feet she crouched low, waiting for his infamous red saber to make its first strike.
His fingers encircled the hilt of his weapon, lifting it from his belt with no urgency. He watched her eyes narrow, confused at his lack of speed.

Then with a quick sweeping movement he lit the energy beam and lunged forward, missing her by mere inches as she flipped backwards out of the way.

"Impressive," he mulled, sounding anything less than overwhelmed, "But the time for games is over."

He lunged forward again, but did not fully commit to the move; if he knew his old apprentice like he thought he did then he could catch her out this way.

Just as he predicted she slid to one side, narrowly dodging the attack again and then springing up to somersault over his head.
And there it was; Ahsoka's first, and last mistake.
Giving away nothing he rapidly swung the weapon up, hearing the hiss of his blade as it sliced through flesh and bone, a high pitched scream piercing through the silence of the hangar as the Jedi's body thumped to the floor behind him, her foot dropping down in front of him. Vader spun round, his cloak flapping as he looked down at her curled-up figure, her little hands clutching at the smoking stump as she groaned and grunted in agony.

"A shame little one," Vader bent to cast his imposing shadow over her trembling form, "You could have been quite an asset to the Empire."

The little one glared up at him, hissing from behind pain-clinched teeth.

He lifted his saber up in front of him, the red light casting an eerie glow across his black armour, behind his mask he sneered.

"As I said...a shame. You could have made a great Sith Snips."

The utter shock on her face sent a thrilling shiver through his entire body, though it could have been merely a trip in one of the cybernetic circuits of his suit.
Her mouth opened and closed, opened and closed; her eyes wide and unbelieving as she shook her head frantically, the pain no-longer her primary concern.
Now she knew the truth.

"No," she whispered, her broken voice only just audible.

And that was the last thing Ahsoka Tano ever said as without regret the Sith master bought his blade down upon his own pupil and gave her the privilege of dying for her cause.

After the task was complete he extinguished his blade and returned it to his side, not casting another look at the smouldering remains of the little Jedi as he strode across the large bay, nodding to his men once again,

"Clean this mess up."

So Ahsoka's got to die sometime right, and I thouht it only fitting that she died by the hands of the man who had trained her.
I'm not a fan of the Clone Wars Series, I'm not a HUGE fan in general of the newer Star Wars at all, but this just wouldn't let me rest, and after being sat on my hard-drive for the past year I thought it was about time I posted it.

So any thoughts? I have to say I quite enjoyed writing from Vader's perspective, he's such an interesting fellow :D
Would love any feedback you have good or bad, and I hoped you enjoyed my little work.