Luke surrenders to a small crew
of officers & is brought before Vader.
He even hands over his light saber,
& the two walk the hallways as though strolling through
a sunlit field.* But the calm’s broken
when Luke calls his dad Anakin Skywalker.
That name has no meaning for me, Vader
snaps, igniting his saber behind his son’s
back. For a moment Luke freezes.
You don’t know the power of the dark side, Vader
says. But luckily, he implies, the Emperor
would be more than willing to tutor him. He is
your master now, Vader says. Luke shakes his head
& exhales. Then my father is truly dead.
* Or possibly an even more bucolic scene. Insert your own Romantic vision here. “And then the Force with pleasure fills/ and dances with the daffodils” etc.**
** Wordsworth used to be one of my best friends. But since I quoted him here, he totally hates me. I asked his sister, and she confirmed it; he totally hates me. Whatever.