Darien Whit

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Chapter One: In which Vader does not destroy the list of Force-sensitive children, and Darth Vader (2017-) #10 has a different end.

0 AFE

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"Master I have a report. Jocasta Nu tried to escape our custody. She was... careless. She perished in the attempt."

"I see. Regrettable. Return to me my apprentice. I would hear the story of the witch's end. But first -- tell me -- did you learn anything from Jocasta before her death?"

Vader hesitated, data disc held in one hand. It would be so easy to lie. To crush it. They were only children.

He did not lie. He did not crush the disc.

"Yes, Master. The Jedi was carrying a list of Force-sensitive children."

"Excellent, Lord Vader, most excellent! Ah, yes. I assume you have already downloaded its contents?"

"Of course my Master."

"Good. Good!"

"What would you have me do?"

"Go, go and find these children. My Inquisitors are not quite ready for this task, you will bring them to me yourself."

"Right away."

Vader stared at the corpse of Jedi Master Jocasta Nu for a few moments longer, before turning to storm onto the nearest clone transport.

There was an irritating awkward moment of confusion where the clones did not seem to know how to react.

Incompetents.

How wrong he had been to ever see them as sympathetic.

Individuals.

He knew better now.

Marching towards a ship he reviewed the information the list provided once more.

The children were arranged by planet of origin, and the list held no further information than name and date of birth.

There was no information to help track them down other than that. Not what species they were, where on the planet they could be found, nothing.

There were no records to help him on Coruscant. He would have to check with the authorities on each individual planet, in hopes of rooting the children out.

The list began on Alderaan, with a four year old child named Darien Whit.

He set the coordinates for Alderaan, the hyperspace lanes connecting Alderaan and Coruscant robust and easy to plot.

He'd be there within the hour.

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A month.

Almost one full month.

One month since the Republic fell.

One month since the Empire rose.

One month since Padmé had died.

One month since... since he held Leia for the first time.

One month since Breha had smiled at him brighter than any star in the sky, cradling their daughter - their daughter - in her arms for the very first time.

Just yesterday Leia had smiled at him!

Actually smiled!

It had been a month unlike any other.

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