"That boy was never a man!" Vader growled, pushing himself forward as if challenging the droid in a duel, "He was weak. A coward. The only thing that remains of that boy is the shell in which he inhabited, and soon that will burn as well."
"That is not true." 3PO disagreed again.
"And why not?"
3PO was silent for a moment, allowing the anger that was coming off his Master to calm. He looked at the man standing in front of him, his Master, with affection in his mechanical eyes, before he said softly, "Because if there was nothing left of that boy inside of you, why am I still here?"
For once, Vader backed away, not accepted the challenge. "That means nothing." He hissed, turning his back on the droid as he put much needed space between them. The Dark Lord pulled off his tunic and shirt, before he threw it across the room in anger. He hoped that 3PO would back off, but as always, Vader knew better than to hope. "Oh, but I'm afraid it does," 3PO said, refusing to be beaten, "And you know it."
"Don't push me, Threepio." Vader said harshly, his gaze not returning to the droid as he paused at the edge of the room.
"Why not, Master?" 3PO asked, crossing the room so that he was again near his Master, "Will you destroy me like the other droids? Will you throw me out and replace me?" 3PO paused, allowing his words to sink in before he continued, "Or do I hold too much sentimental value to you? Do I mean too much to you? To that boy that still lives inside of you."
"You are a droid that knows my needs well, Threepio." Vader snapped, as his gaze remained locked with the wall, "That proves nothing of my humanity."
"It does," 3PO disagreed, "but if you can't see it. I have other proof."
"Threepio." Vader warned, "Stop this." "No," 3PO said, shaking his head, "because I know that name–that your name means something to you. "
"Threepio." Vader warned again, his voice colder than before.
"It is the name your mother gave you," 3PO said with all seriousness, "and if you want proof of your humanity, it is your love for her."
"Get out." Vader snapped, not caring to turn around to voice his threat. The threat was not in his words, but in his tone… the tone of ice and death.
3PO still didn't listen, but continued to push. "She carried you, birthed you, named you, and raised you before these beasts turned you into–
"Get out!" Vader screamed, turning to face the droid with a murderous look on his face. 3PO stood unfazed. "Not until you stop denying the fact!" 3PO screamed back, refusing to lose this battle.
"I was born human, Threepio," Vader hissed as he stalked towards the droid, "That doesn't mean I'll die human. It does nothing to prove that I still have my humanity."
"You d–"
"I said, get out!" Vader roared angrily, not allowing 3PO to defy him any longer.
"Yes…" 3PO said with a small bow, "My loyal Creator."
Vader snarled, pushing the droid out the door, and as soon as the door shut, his rampage began. Destroying whatever objects, clothing, or materials he could get his hands on. Vader, as well as 3PO knew that the Sith would never harm the droid. It gave 3PO an advantage; an advantage that no one else had, and today, 3PO had used it to his advantage. Vader growled again, as he crossed the room, his anger exploding. If 3PO had been anyone else, the droid would have been dead; beaten and broken into smithereens. But he wasn't, he was 3PO, and Vader would never harm him. He couldn't… Yet.
Trying to calm his anger, Vader brushed his fingers through his hair, before he turned to the wall. He looked in the mirror before him and across the hundreds of scars that were engraved into his skin. He looked across each and every one of them until his eyes came across the place on his arm where a strange writing was placed. Below the strange script, was a small deep scar, compared to the rest, it looked like child's play, but Vader knew it was a wound that was cut deep below the rest. It was the place where his tracking device had been ripped out of his skin when he was a child. Above it was the writing that he dared not read; knowing the pain would hurt more than every scar on his body combined. Turning his gaze away, Vader moved towards his bed, finally giving in to his exhaustion. Slowly, he eased himself onto his bed, wrapping himself in the cold sheets before closing his eyes; helpless but to think about the one thing – the one person even Darth Vader loved… his Mother.
It was hot, blistering hot, too hot for a usual morning. The double suns shined down hard on the planet, burning all that stood below. Usually the small boy would be to work by now, but not today. Today he cried as his mother pulled him roughly through the streets, as blasters and screams sounded behind them. The sand was hot underneath his feet, his mother pulling him out of bed and put the door before he could even fully dress.
"Mommy!" The boy cried, not understanding what was going on around him, "We have to go back, we didn't bring Threepio!" "Shhh, Anakin!" She hushed as she continued pulling him through the streets, "We must hurry! Be quiet! Threepio will be fine!"
They could both hear the sounds of the outsiders becoming closer and closer by the second. There was nowhere to run, there was nowhere to hide, but still they had to try. His mother pulled him through the nearest door and into a small room before locking the door behind them.
"Mom what is happening?" Anakin cried, as his mother fell to the ground beside him and wrapped her arms around him.
"Ani. Anakin listen to me." His mother soothed as she ran her hand through his bleach blonde hair, "They are coming. They are going to take you."
"Who's coming?" Anakin cried, grabbing onto his mother's hand and holding it close to his chest as he snuggled into her body, "What is happening?"
"Shh, Ani. There is no time." His mother said softly, her own tears beginning to fall as well, "I'm afraid this is goodbye for now."
"Don't say that, Mom." Anakin said, before tears began streaming down his face like a waterfall. He couldn't stop the tears. He was scared. He didn't understand. He was confused. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave him mother. He didn't want them to take him.
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