Vader’s heart beat loudly in his chest. The blasted suit displayed a warning on the inside of his helmet about it. He ignored it. The ride on the turbolift was too familiar. Brought back too many memories of another time and another life. Luckily, the lift soon stopped and the doors opened. His heart ached as he saw the painfully familiar apartment. It hadn’t changed much in the years since he had last been here. The Nubian art still hung on the walls. The same vase, but with fresh flowers, still sat in the same spot. The--Â
He noticed the first discrepancy. It caused his breathing to hitch. It was a toy. A spaceship painted in bright red and yellow. It sat discarded in the hall. He walked over to it and picked it up. It was clearly not based on any established ship design. It was too fat and rounded to be a proper flight-worthy vessel. Had it be designed only as a toy?Â
His thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard shuffling steps approaching. He looked up to a gold protocol droid walking over.Â
“Oh, excuse me,” the droid said. “I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. Are you . . . the nanny from the services?”Â
“Yes,” Vader said. His voice was deep, much deeper than his real voice, thanks to the vocoder in his mask.Â
There was a pause. A hesitation.Â
“There must have been some kind of mix-up. Mistress Padme requested no droids. I will--”
“I am not a droid,” Vader interrupted.Â
“Oh. Do forgive me! You just look . . .”
Vader said nothing. He was tempted to raise his hand and curl his hand into a fist and crush this droid, his own droid, with the Force.Â
“You may cross-reference my files with the agency,” Vader said instead. “I am highly qualified,” he lied. He had hacked into the nanny service’s databank and created his own profile. “I realize my appearance is unconventional, but considering the first twelve conventional nannies have not worked out for Senator Amidala, it was time to try something . . . new.”Â
If a droid could show relief, Threepio would have shown it.Â
“I shall give you files a look, Mr. Vader,” the droid said. “And I suppose we can consider today a trial for any long-term placement. We are in need of a nanny right now. Senator Amidala has already left for the Senate, called away on an emergency meeting.”
The droid turned and started to walk down the hallway. Vader followed behind. He was led into a sitting room he wasn’t too familiar with. It looked to be serving as a playroom now. Toys were scattered everywhere. There was a small low table with two small chairs. Flimsi papers were littered about it with colorful scribbles and drawings on it. And sitting on the floor in the center of the room were two children.Â
The little boy had blond hair and played with two spaceships. The little girl with brown hair sat next to him brushing the hair of a toy doll. It was . . . It was the first time seeing his own children in person. He had seen holos. A few paparazzi shots the media, official shots published once a year, and a few he had received from hiring his own spies. But here they were right before him.Â
They were beautiful. They looked Padme! They looked like him! They were so small and precious and wonderful. They were perfect. Tears stung at his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was finally meeting his children.
“Who is that?”Â
Luke. It had been Luke who had looked up and asked. His little finger pointed at Vader.Â
“Master Luke. Master Leia,” Threepio said. “This is your new nanny.”Â
Both children had stopped playing. They stood up, walked over to Vader, and looked at him curiously.Â
“Are you a droid?” Leia asked. There was a bit of a swagger in her voice. A hint of an attitude.Â
“No,” he said.Â
“You look like a droid,” she said.Â
“You can hear his breathing!” Luke added. “Droids don’t breathe!”Â
Leia tilted her head as the two listened to two rounds of his respirator.Â
“What’s your name?” Luke asked.
“Vader,” he said.
It was true. It was his name. The name Sidious had granted him when he fell to his knees and pledged himself to the Sith. A name that now only he knew with Sidious’ death. He couldn’t use Anakin. That name no longer had any meaning to him, plus it was now tarnished. No longer was he Anakin Skywalker hailed as the hero of the Republic. He was marked as a traitor, a fugitive, a terrorist. A Sith.
“You sound funny,” Leia said. “You sound like a droid.”Â
She walked over and pinched his leg. His lower leg. His lower prosthetic metal leg. She gasped.Â
“You are a droid! That breathing is fake!”Â
“My leg is fake. I am not, young one.”Â
She pursed her lips and glared up at him.Â
“Why do you have a metal leg?” Luke asked.Â
Anger flared inside of Vader. What was he to say to his own children? That the man he considered his brother, the man who had raised him, who had stolen his wife and children away from him, had sliced them off?Â
“It was cut off,” Vader said.Â
“Does it hurt?” Luke asked.Â
He walked up and hugged his leg, and Vader became completely still. His son . . . His son! Was hugging him! Luke gave his leg a quick kiss before hopping back with a huge smile on his face.Â
“All better!” he said.Â
“All better!” Leia repeated.Â
“Th-- Thank you, little ones.”Â
“Is that metal too?” Leia asked pointing to his hand.Â
“They are all metal,” he said.Â
“Why?”Â
“They were also cut off,” he growled.Â
“Why?”Â
He clenched his teeth together and his hands curled into fists. He did not wish to discuss this as it only angered him. He was here to enjoy his children. Who knew how long this charade would last.Â
“Because . . .” he said. The twins looked at him expectantly. He didn’t move his head, but his eyes looked wildly around. What could he say to appease their curiosity? What would someone use a metal hand for? “It’s so I can crush things.”Â
Both of their eyes went wide.Â
“Can I see?” Leia asked.
“Show us!” Luke pleaded. “Please!”
“Please! Pretty please!”Â
“Show you what?” Vader asked.
“How you crush things!” both twins said together.