Owen Lars, hostile, dismissive and evasive. And possibly the galaxy's best-kept secret...
The one thing anyone really knows about Darth Vader is that he makes a considerable impression. You see him once and you never forget him. He haunts your dreams. He becomes inescapable. Consequently, people tend to talk about him. They exaggerate. He seems like he's everywhere.
But the thing is, the man behind the myth isn't any larger-than-life than an overbearing uncle who's serving as foster father to a lonely youth looking for a little adventure.
Life on a moisture farm in Tatooine plays out in slow motion. That's what anyone will tell you. Luke Skywalker especially. To him, Owen Lars is scarcely different from Darth Vader. Luke's never even heard of this infamous Sith lord. He knows all about the Rebellion against the Empire, or so he thinks, but he doesn't know any of the key players. He knows his good buddy Biggs got to join the Imperial Academy. He doesn't even know Biggs defected to the Rebellion almost immediately. It's probably what he would do, too, if given the opportunity.
Except his uncle is always getting in the way. And Luke is resentful. If given the chance, he'd easily lump Uncle Owen and Darth Vader into the same menacing category.
Except Uncle Owen isn't around as much as he seems. He's always going off on trips, saying he's looking for spare parts or whatever. Sometimes Luke, who hates those mundane tasks more than anything, thinks the Jawas are always ripping them off, goes with his uncle, but most of the time he doesn't. He has no idea that Uncle Owen leaves Tatooine all the time, slips into the gear and helmet of Darth Vader, and bullies the rest of the galaxy, too, getting home in time to scrounge up some junk he can present as an excuse for his absence.
Owen has good reason to play the role. Luke's father Anakin was destined for a bad end. He was one of those Jedi, or so he liked to think. The one time Owen met Anakin face-to-face, he knew what would happen to his brother-in-law. He could see it coming from a mile away, even with the glaring suns in the way, his hands thrown in front of his eyes for protection.
In a way, he feels responsible for what in fact did happen, which was Anakin dying in an ill-considered attempt to avenge the death of his mother at the hands of Tusken Raiders. He should have looked after the unruly youth's best interests. Well, that's what he's ended up doing for Anakin's son, who ha always been far too much like Owen's brother-in-law for his liking. Someone has to make sure the galaxy doesn't fall apart with malcontents like that running around!
Owen found out he had a connection to the Force by accident, a development that was probably the result of his exposure to Anakin, or something like that. That never really mattered to him. Anyway, it certainly helped when he decided to become Vader. As Vader, he could ensure that whatever reality Luke encountered when he finally left Tatooine would be prepared for him. The longer he played the part, though, the more Owen got into it. It spiraled quickly out of control.
When Luke and Vader clash in Cloud City, Owen realizes he can no longer hide the truth. He's already faked his own death. The only person he's hiding from now is his adopted son. And Luke has turned out okay. It just seems wrong to perpetuate the ruse. He takes the helmet off in public for the first time ever. Luke is so shocked he falls down a shaft screaming!
Owen shakes his head. "That's what I was afraid of."
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 48: Never in the Same Room
Just suppose you've never had the story told to you, not the version that everyone knows. Suppose you've heard it told in a way where Darth Vader and Obi-Wan Kenobi never share the same room. What might you begin to believe about them? What might the relationship between them begin to look like, from a certain point of view?
Just suppose this: Darth Vader is Obi-Wan Kenobi.
After the fateful clash between Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker at Mustafar, only one leaves the planet of his own accord. But what if only one truly leaves the planet at all? Kenobi finishes the job there and then, ending the life of the rebellious Jedi and would-be Sith apprentice Skywalker, but then can no longer live with himself, having murdered his long-time friend and ally, and so he replaces him as apprentice to Palpatine, ruler of the Empire and Darth Sidious, keeper of the Sith flame.
Except he can't let the galaxy know what he's done. Even in the version you know, Kenobi goes into anonymous exile. Certainly, Yoda does the same, but Kenobi is the one who can't fully remove himself from matters of the Force, one way or another, remaining active, whether in guiding the young son of Skywalker to maturity, or in becoming the watchdog of the Empire, the last remnant of Force lore active in the galaxy.
As Vader, even if he operates as a Sith, Kenobi has all the opportunity he needs to correct his mistake. Taking the life of Skywalker ended the Jedi Order's chances of influencing Palpatine's further movements. To keep hope alive, Kenobi must replace him. It's a life of constant danger. If Palpatine suspects the truth, the gambit is finished in an instant. To everyone else Vader is invincible, but not to a master of the Sith. Even if he's not compromised, fused with metal parts the way Skywalker needs to be in the version you know, Kenobi never had full command of his abilities, the way Yoda did, or Palpatine. He would be overmatched, without a way to expand his powers, no guidance possible and no time to himself to learn on his own, always carrying out the bidding of the Empire or Palpatine directly. He seems autonomous but he isn't.
It's a mission with a long-term goal, waiting for an opportunity, no matter how long it takes. Either way he must recruit Skywalker's son, who is instantly a wildcard, someone Palpatine can't control. As Vader, Kenobi can manipulate the truth with impunity. First, the boy won't trust him. But when he learns the truth he will do anything to live up to the hope he represents.
But it is a costly life, a costly lie, for Kenobi. He will be scorned by those he once loved and distrusted even by his allies. It will be lonely. You see, there are so few differences between what you know and what might have been, what's to quibble? Kenobi might as well have been Vader all along.
It might even have been easier this way.
Just suppose this: Darth Vader is Obi-Wan Kenobi.
After the fateful clash between Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker at Mustafar, only one leaves the planet of his own accord. But what if only one truly leaves the planet at all? Kenobi finishes the job there and then, ending the life of the rebellious Jedi and would-be Sith apprentice Skywalker, but then can no longer live with himself, having murdered his long-time friend and ally, and so he replaces him as apprentice to Palpatine, ruler of the Empire and Darth Sidious, keeper of the Sith flame.
Except he can't let the galaxy know what he's done. Even in the version you know, Kenobi goes into anonymous exile. Certainly, Yoda does the same, but Kenobi is the one who can't fully remove himself from matters of the Force, one way or another, remaining active, whether in guiding the young son of Skywalker to maturity, or in becoming the watchdog of the Empire, the last remnant of Force lore active in the galaxy.
As Vader, even if he operates as a Sith, Kenobi has all the opportunity he needs to correct his mistake. Taking the life of Skywalker ended the Jedi Order's chances of influencing Palpatine's further movements. To keep hope alive, Kenobi must replace him. It's a life of constant danger. If Palpatine suspects the truth, the gambit is finished in an instant. To everyone else Vader is invincible, but not to a master of the Sith. Even if he's not compromised, fused with metal parts the way Skywalker needs to be in the version you know, Kenobi never had full command of his abilities, the way Yoda did, or Palpatine. He would be overmatched, without a way to expand his powers, no guidance possible and no time to himself to learn on his own, always carrying out the bidding of the Empire or Palpatine directly. He seems autonomous but he isn't.
It's a mission with a long-term goal, waiting for an opportunity, no matter how long it takes. Either way he must recruit Skywalker's son, who is instantly a wildcard, someone Palpatine can't control. As Vader, Kenobi can manipulate the truth with impunity. First, the boy won't trust him. But when he learns the truth he will do anything to live up to the hope he represents.
But it is a costly life, a costly lie, for Kenobi. He will be scorned by those he once loved and distrusted even by his allies. It will be lonely. You see, there are so few differences between what you know and what might have been, what's to quibble? Kenobi might as well have been Vader all along.
It might even have been easier this way.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 47: Mace in Vader's Helmet
For years popular gossip around the galaxy centered on the identity of the man beneath the helmet of Darth Vader. Everyone had their opinions, the likeliest candidates. On Coruscant, there were plenty of people who were pretty confident they knew exactly who he was. A couple of kids discuss it:
"My dad says it's pretty obvious," George says.
"Your dad's bantha fodder," Irving says.
"That may be, but he says it's definitely Mace Windu," George says.
"I have no idea who that is," Irving says.
"Back in the days of the Jedi, he was a pretty important one," George says.
"That means nothing to me," Irving says.
"It was well before your time," George says. It may be important to note that they're both ten years old.
"Blah blah blah," Irving says.
"No, listen: Mace Windu is the Jedi who was sent to arrest Palpatine," George says. "Back in those days, everyone knew that. My dad was there. He was one of the guards who was watching the chancellor's chambers."
"He probably died," Irving says.
"That's what everyone says," George says. "Too obvious. I think they framed it as an arrest, but really it was Mace Windu defecting to the enemy!"
"Question: weren't these Jedi of yours supposed to be the good guys?" Irving asks.
"Jedi defected left and right," George says. "Sifo Dyas, Count Dooku. Lots of bad apples."
"Why does he hide under the helmet then, Mr. Big Corellian?" Irving says.
"They had to make it look good," George says. "It was really nasty, too. Everyone knows Mace fell from the chambers' picture window and he was missing a hand. No one knows what happened to the body. I think it's obvious. Palpatine sticks him in this outfit, he places on the helmet, and zam! we have Darth Vader."
"You're a real Gungan, you know that?"
"My dad says it's pretty obvious," George says.
"Your dad's bantha fodder," Irving says.
"That may be, but he says it's definitely Mace Windu," George says.
"I have no idea who that is," Irving says.
"Back in the days of the Jedi, he was a pretty important one," George says.
"That means nothing to me," Irving says.
"It was well before your time," George says. It may be important to note that they're both ten years old.
"Blah blah blah," Irving says.
"No, listen: Mace Windu is the Jedi who was sent to arrest Palpatine," George says. "Back in those days, everyone knew that. My dad was there. He was one of the guards who was watching the chancellor's chambers."
"He probably died," Irving says.
"That's what everyone says," George says. "Too obvious. I think they framed it as an arrest, but really it was Mace Windu defecting to the enemy!"
"Question: weren't these Jedi of yours supposed to be the good guys?" Irving asks.
"Jedi defected left and right," George says. "Sifo Dyas, Count Dooku. Lots of bad apples."
"Why does he hide under the helmet then, Mr. Big Corellian?" Irving says.
"They had to make it look good," George says. "It was really nasty, too. Everyone knows Mace fell from the chambers' picture window and he was missing a hand. No one knows what happened to the body. I think it's obvious. Palpatine sticks him in this outfit, he places on the helmet, and zam! we have Darth Vader."
"You're a real Gungan, you know that?"
Friday, August 22, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 46: Frozen
So many things change if Luke actually gets frozen in carbonite. Many more things change if he doesn't survive the process. For instance:
He never finds out that Darth Vader was his father. For that matter, if you experience these events somewhere a long time from then in a galaxy very,very close as a form of entertainment, neither do you.
Vader is never motivated to redeem himself.
No one is there to rescue Han, Leia, and Chewie from Jabba the Hutt.
No strike team is capable of destroying the shield generator on Endor.
The Rebellion is crushed.
The Jedi never return.
Balance is not restored to the Force.
Good thing that Luke had good reflexes!
He never finds out that Darth Vader was his father. For that matter, if you experience these events somewhere a long time from then in a galaxy very,very close as a form of entertainment, neither do you.
Vader is never motivated to redeem himself.
No one is there to rescue Han, Leia, and Chewie from Jabba the Hutt.
No strike team is capable of destroying the shield generator on Endor.
The Rebellion is crushed.
The Jedi never return.
Balance is not restored to the Force.
Good thing that Luke had good reflexes!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 45: After the Freeze
Leia is standing there looking at him. It's difficult to breathe under the helmet of the bounty hunter she's impersonating. After confronting Jabba openly just to have access to the palace, she's been waiting all evening, her nerves slowly unwinding.
She walked through the unfreezing process a hundred times with Lando, grilled him on it even before she started trusting him, the moment it became clear they were leaving Cloud City without Han, but with his scoundrel friend. She knows Lando is here somewhere, and has come around to feeling a measure of comfort in that.
She steps back. No, just go ahead with it. She steps forward again. She approaches the carbon block and directs her attention to the control panel that will release it from the wall. It falls heavily. She resists the urge to look around. She's well past the point of worrying that she'll be caught. All she cares about is him. She realized that the moment he went into this strange hibernation.
She reaches out once more and sets the block to thaw. His face is the first thing she sees, all these months later, the words "I love you" caught in time and tumbling from his lips. Maybe it's just her imagination.
His hands are next, and they fall from the pose they've been holding. She wants to take them in her own.
When it's over, she knows he must be allowed to carry his dead weight to the floor, even the thought of catching him in this state impossible despite what she so desperately wants to express, what she's hated herself from holding back since the moment she met him.
Seeing him collapsed like that, she crouches down beside him, moves him into a seated position. He's still not moving. She wants to remove the helmet right away, but she doesn't, because she's thinking much more about him than herself, and she hates herself for having to admit that if she's done that before, none of this would have happened.
He doesn't speak a word. He doesn't move at all. She's becoming frantic.
Slowly, it dawns on her, what's happened. He didn't survive the process. Somehow she always knew. She knew from the moment the platform descended into the chamber.
She can hear Jabba cackling behind her, his deep voice making the sound echo even in a room teeming with the worst scum of the galaxy. She doesn't let Han go. Not this time. Not ever again.
Leia will die before she lets that happen again. She knows now that this is how it should always have been...
She walked through the unfreezing process a hundred times with Lando, grilled him on it even before she started trusting him, the moment it became clear they were leaving Cloud City without Han, but with his scoundrel friend. She knows Lando is here somewhere, and has come around to feeling a measure of comfort in that.
She steps back. No, just go ahead with it. She steps forward again. She approaches the carbon block and directs her attention to the control panel that will release it from the wall. It falls heavily. She resists the urge to look around. She's well past the point of worrying that she'll be caught. All she cares about is him. She realized that the moment he went into this strange hibernation.
She reaches out once more and sets the block to thaw. His face is the first thing she sees, all these months later, the words "I love you" caught in time and tumbling from his lips. Maybe it's just her imagination.
His hands are next, and they fall from the pose they've been holding. She wants to take them in her own.
When it's over, she knows he must be allowed to carry his dead weight to the floor, even the thought of catching him in this state impossible despite what she so desperately wants to express, what she's hated herself from holding back since the moment she met him.
Seeing him collapsed like that, she crouches down beside him, moves him into a seated position. He's still not moving. She wants to remove the helmet right away, but she doesn't, because she's thinking much more about him than herself, and she hates herself for having to admit that if she's done that before, none of this would have happened.
He doesn't speak a word. He doesn't move at all. She's becoming frantic.
Slowly, it dawns on her, what's happened. He didn't survive the process. Somehow she always knew. She knew from the moment the platform descended into the chamber.
She can hear Jabba cackling behind her, his deep voice making the sound echo even in a room teeming with the worst scum of the galaxy. She doesn't let Han go. Not this time. Not ever again.
Leia will die before she lets that happen again. She knows now that this is how it should always have been...
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 44: Who's Really Under Boba Fett's Helmet
There's a bird sitting outside Boba Fett's window. Fett is taking a break. He's been on the go for months, nonstop, across countless worlds. A bounty hunter's life isn't easy. Some consider the life deplorable. But it's a living, and it tires you out same as any other job.
The bird had been singing, but then it noticed that Fett moved to take his helmet off. Birds are as curious as any other living being, all of whom express this simple impulse in different ways. Blink and you might miss it. Fett's quarters are perched high above the earth, the better to keep him unobserved, except by those who can, like Fett himself, fly. Such as birds.
Such as this bird. The bird keeps observing the territory around itself, mindful of predators, or potential meals, listening for others of its kind. There are many like this bird, just as there are many like Fett. But they are also both of them unique. The reasons why are boring. The bird wants to see what's beneath that helmet, same as anyone else.
This bird's feathers are unique. We'll grant you that. Their coloring is vibrant beyond the norm for its kind, and they jut in odd directions, like spikes, fanning out not in the interests of attracting a potential mate, but to give the bird a menacing appearance. Is this something that came about naturally, or did the bird somehow craft this look itself?
Birds chatter all the time, both in matters of love and general gossip. There are no bigger gossips in the galaxy than birds. They cover a lot of territory, both out of instinct and interest. They want to know what's going on. There are birds who have traveled the stars, the pets of starship crews. They have the chance to spread gossip far indeed!
The legend of Boba Fett has long held the interest of birds. They see him as a kindred spirit. This bird is about to learn something very interesting.
The bird knows what others have said about Fett, how he is the son of the man who was cloned in order to create the first Army of the Republic and later Empire. He's never believed that. It sounds good, but the truth is usually far more fascinating, even mundane, connecting facts that seem improbable only because in a different context they're like anything you yourself have experienced, and one's own experiences always seem...dull.
Who's beneath the helmet?
The bird, like all of its kind, views the world in slow motion. It flits about so quickly in its own life, nothing else can be expected to keep up. Gossip can be used quite handily to overcome impatience and boredom, the rigors of an unsatisfying life where everything must be done yourself. Perhaps Fett understands that, too?
The helmet, it's rising!
The bird twitches anxiously. Get on with it, already, Mr. Fett! The neck emerges. The bird, of course, is observing Fett from behind. The back of the scalp, which is smooth. The skull. The...horns?
Wait a minute. The bird knows that look. The pigmentation, tribal, a warrior's decoration, a master of oneself. Fearful, but a mask. This...isn't possible. That man is dead, isn't he? Didn't the bird receive that news a long time ago? Except there he sits. He tosses the helmet aside. It clatters to the floor. The man rethinks what he's just done and picks the helmet back up. He looks around, stares the bird in the eyes for a brief moment.
Because the bird quickly darts off.
The bird had been singing, but then it noticed that Fett moved to take his helmet off. Birds are as curious as any other living being, all of whom express this simple impulse in different ways. Blink and you might miss it. Fett's quarters are perched high above the earth, the better to keep him unobserved, except by those who can, like Fett himself, fly. Such as birds.
Such as this bird. The bird keeps observing the territory around itself, mindful of predators, or potential meals, listening for others of its kind. There are many like this bird, just as there are many like Fett. But they are also both of them unique. The reasons why are boring. The bird wants to see what's beneath that helmet, same as anyone else.
This bird's feathers are unique. We'll grant you that. Their coloring is vibrant beyond the norm for its kind, and they jut in odd directions, like spikes, fanning out not in the interests of attracting a potential mate, but to give the bird a menacing appearance. Is this something that came about naturally, or did the bird somehow craft this look itself?
Birds chatter all the time, both in matters of love and general gossip. There are no bigger gossips in the galaxy than birds. They cover a lot of territory, both out of instinct and interest. They want to know what's going on. There are birds who have traveled the stars, the pets of starship crews. They have the chance to spread gossip far indeed!
The legend of Boba Fett has long held the interest of birds. They see him as a kindred spirit. This bird is about to learn something very interesting.
The bird knows what others have said about Fett, how he is the son of the man who was cloned in order to create the first Army of the Republic and later Empire. He's never believed that. It sounds good, but the truth is usually far more fascinating, even mundane, connecting facts that seem improbable only because in a different context they're like anything you yourself have experienced, and one's own experiences always seem...dull.
Who's beneath the helmet?
The bird, like all of its kind, views the world in slow motion. It flits about so quickly in its own life, nothing else can be expected to keep up. Gossip can be used quite handily to overcome impatience and boredom, the rigors of an unsatisfying life where everything must be done yourself. Perhaps Fett understands that, too?
The helmet, it's rising!
The bird twitches anxiously. Get on with it, already, Mr. Fett! The neck emerges. The bird, of course, is observing Fett from behind. The back of the scalp, which is smooth. The skull. The...horns?
Wait a minute. The bird knows that look. The pigmentation, tribal, a warrior's decoration, a master of oneself. Fearful, but a mask. This...isn't possible. That man is dead, isn't he? Didn't the bird receive that news a long time ago? Except there he sits. He tosses the helmet aside. It clatters to the floor. The man rethinks what he's just done and picks the helmet back up. He looks around, stares the bird in the eyes for a brief moment.
Because the bird quickly darts off.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
101 Star Wars Variations 43: Darth Maul
But which was destroyed? The master or the apprentice?
Twenty years seems like a pretty good run. The Jedi all but wiped out. The Republic transformed into an Empire. The Sith ruled the galaxy. Seems pretty easy to say that Palpatine, Darth Sidious, was definitely the master and Darth Maul the apprentice, not even considering that Maul died before any of that was achieved.
Except it was Maul who was the apprentice. If not for a fluke defeat, which led to his premature death, Maul's vision would have stood for a thousand years, his leadership stronger than that of his apprentice Palpatine, a mere politician from Naboo, fluent in the arcane, filled with grandiose notions and fanciful ideas.
When Palpatine introduced himself to the Trade Federation, he did so while hiding Maul's existence. Either this is the mark of a master or the first telling detail of Maul's true role. The Sith had been driven into hiding, all but extinct, limited to a tradition of two rather than an entire and continually expanding brotherhood as in the Jedi Order. Consequently, it was Sith habit to remain in the shadows, which Palpatine was careful to do in his machinations concerning his home world. Maul humored his apprentice in these matters, remaining silent, remained focused, knowing these short-term goals were part of a chain of events that would bring glory back to the Sith. Palpatine's clairvoyance was always his dominant ability over Maul's own powers, something he had that his master didn't. But Maul understood Palpatine's visions better, which was always a disturbing matter between them. Without his guidance, Maul feared Palpatine would easily lead himself astray.
Which is, of course, exactly what happened.
Had he lived...things would have turned out differently. The Sith would not have been defeated, again, so easily, so quickly. Then again, maybe it was better that he died without knowing Palpatine's brief victory.
Perhaps, in his final moments, Darth Maul saw not the past but the future flash before his eyes. And that was his true agony.
Twenty years seems like a pretty good run. The Jedi all but wiped out. The Republic transformed into an Empire. The Sith ruled the galaxy. Seems pretty easy to say that Palpatine, Darth Sidious, was definitely the master and Darth Maul the apprentice, not even considering that Maul died before any of that was achieved.
Except it was Maul who was the apprentice. If not for a fluke defeat, which led to his premature death, Maul's vision would have stood for a thousand years, his leadership stronger than that of his apprentice Palpatine, a mere politician from Naboo, fluent in the arcane, filled with grandiose notions and fanciful ideas.
When Palpatine introduced himself to the Trade Federation, he did so while hiding Maul's existence. Either this is the mark of a master or the first telling detail of Maul's true role. The Sith had been driven into hiding, all but extinct, limited to a tradition of two rather than an entire and continually expanding brotherhood as in the Jedi Order. Consequently, it was Sith habit to remain in the shadows, which Palpatine was careful to do in his machinations concerning his home world. Maul humored his apprentice in these matters, remaining silent, remained focused, knowing these short-term goals were part of a chain of events that would bring glory back to the Sith. Palpatine's clairvoyance was always his dominant ability over Maul's own powers, something he had that his master didn't. But Maul understood Palpatine's visions better, which was always a disturbing matter between them. Without his guidance, Maul feared Palpatine would easily lead himself astray.
Which is, of course, exactly what happened.
Had he lived...things would have turned out differently. The Sith would not have been defeated, again, so easily, so quickly. Then again, maybe it was better that he died without knowing Palpatine's brief victory.
Perhaps, in his final moments, Darth Maul saw not the past but the future flash before his eyes. And that was his true agony.
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