Vials

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Vader stalked around his room with [Name] two paces behind him. He could feel her frustration, but couldn't care less. Why didn't he just choke her to death and get it over with?

"I'm going to bed. Is there anything you, your Lordship?"

"Perhaps you didn't notice amid all the interesting conversation... that I didn't have the opportuniteee to eat," he replied in that mechanical accent of his.

"Sure you did. You chose not to take advantage of it. You sat at the dinner table with the rest of us."

"You don't understand, miladeee. I assure you, no one at that table would have much appreciation for my table manners."

Did he just call her milady? When was the last time he called someone that?

"What can I do, Your Lordship?" 

"That vial in the cabinet..." He said, pointing. "Retrieve it so that I might eat."

[Name] turned. Across the room in a wooden cabinet sat tall vials full of liquid. The top shelf had been labeled "breakfast" the second "lunch" and the third "dinner".

[Name] walked towards said cabinet, opened the door and grabbed a vial from the bottom shelf.

She then scanned the room for a feeding syringe. Where was it? She thought Vader would point her in the right direction, but he stood silently, watching as she fumbled through containers and searched behind the sofa.

"Where's your-"

"Are you really that incompetent! How should I know?" He roared

[Name]'s hands dropped at her sides in exasperation. She returned to the cabinet, found a small drawer and opened it. Inside were plastic individually wrapped syringes. 

Vader sat in a round armchair and waited. [Name] kneeled at his side, found a small opening on the side of his neck and positioned the syringe. But how would she attach the vial to the needle? It made no sense.

"You incable fool," Vader raged. "If you knew anything you'd attach the syringe to my feeding pump, then insert it into the opening in my suit."

[Name] sighed. Her eyes roamed the room until she located the pump. It sat in a box next to the special chair the troops brought to Vader's room.

[Name] poured the contents of the vial into the pump, then attached the syringe to his neck and throat. She flipped the switch on the pump to "on", then watched as the liquid climbed the tube all the way to his throat.

"Anybody ever teach you how to feed yourself?"

"I am not surrre that I could," he answered.

"I find it hard to believe that a mighty warrior, such as yourself, would have difficulties doing something as trivial as feeding yourself."

Vader shrugged.

he wasn't all bad, [Name] thought. He was involent, in many ways as helpless as a newborn baby. Maybe hid dependence on his underlings and servants fed his irritation.

[Name] looked down, suddenly feeling guilty. Why did she feel such sympathy for him? "I'll be back."

Vader ignored her, sitting still as the pump fed liquid into his body. He was used to eating dinner alone. He assumed the diplomat had probably left in disgust. Who wanted to watch a mechanically enhanced fleshless asthmatic eat chemically broken down food through a vial?

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