Vader stared at him, considering. It went against his nature to kill an unresisting man. Still, this was a Jedi, and he had his orders. Eradicate the Jedi. “If you have nothing to live for,” Vader offered, “why not give yourself to the dark side? Turn and serve my Master, and claim a new life for yourself.”
“No,” Boda said wearily. “It wouldn’t bring back what I’ve lost—what I destroyed myself. Besides, I would be betraying the memory of my brother if I served your Emperor. It would make a mockery of what he died for. No…just take my life, as you have been ordered to. It might even be a mercy for me, to reach the end.”
Vader nodded, looking closely at the old man’s face, recording it in his memory. Not the first, and not the last one to die. Simply the next. He reached out one black gloved hand and made a clasping gesture. The Force flowed at his command and surrounded the old man’s heart. Ashka Boda doubled over as his heart was grasped hard inside his chest. He fell from his chair as the heart stopped, collapsing onto the stained floor. Then his last breath left him.
After a minute, Vader walked over to the sprawled body and examined it. He took out a small scanner and held it over the corpse. There were no life signs. Suspicious of a deception, Vader probed with the Force to detect any hidden life within Boda, but he found none. This was not a hibernation trance. The old man was dead.
Vader noticed that the body did not fade away as sometimes happened with the Jedi. This did not disturb him. Fading was a function of being particularly close to the Force on the light side. It didn’t always happen, particularly if the spirit was tainted. Boda’s evident despair suggested that he had done something terrible in his lifetime. Finally, Vader left the body where it was and went down the narrow stairs to the front of the dilapidated building. He strode past the cluster of stormtroopers surrounding the decayed facade, gesturing to the building as he gave a single command. “Burn it.” The white armored soldiers hurried to comply…
Vader awoke from his memory trance as his mask and helmet clamped firmly into place once more. He felt physically refreshed, and clear in his purpose. He was certain that Ashka Boda had died that day on Utapau, yet there was obviously more to the man than he had seen in that dingy room in the spaceport. Nevertheless, it didn’t matter what powers or secrets the old man had. When Boda had seen Vader in the garden, he had run, proving he was still no warrior. Vader had no doubts. He had killed Ashka Boda once…he could do so again.
The man who had caused such consternation for Vader had indeed fled at the sight of the Sith Lord. Boda had no desire to confront Lord Vader, not with so much at stake. It would be a pointless battle, because Boda’s real target was the Emperor Palpatine. He had learned a lot about Vader over the years, while he worked at the Palace as a gardener. He knew the Dark Lord was just a servant, in thrall to his Master, who was the true evil. Vader was not an opponent to be destroyed, just an obstacle to be removed. Boda would spare Vader if he could, and he did not want to risk Vader killing him before his plans could come to fruition.
Boda knew it was endgame for Palpatine and himself. The moment Vader had seen him, Boda had known his time of planning and plotting was over. And was that so bad? He had been preparing for years upon years. Perhaps he had needed a small push to finally act.
Vader’s sighting him had been a mistake, a chance encounter. The Sith Lord never visited the gardens, so Boda had always managed to avoid Vader by keeping to the gardens of the Palace and of his rooftop home. Avoiding Vader had been important—Boda was grateful to Vader for his second chance at life, but he knew Vader wouldn’t feel the same way. But it was now over and done—he had been discovered and now he had to be ready. The Emperor would send Vader after him, Boda reasoned. The Dark Lord was Palpatine’s Jedi-slaying machine from the Purge. Boda had decided to deal with the Sith Lord here, in his own greenhouse home, where his plants would give him an advantage. Once Vader was out of the game, it would be time to go to Palpatine and deliver the Emperor’s long overdue death. It was going to be glorious. Years and tears of patient work had filled the Palace with explosive material. It was a colossal bomb waiting to go off. And it would, once Boda was sure that he and Palpatine were inside it. So they could die together…
Boda walked along between the rows of Bafforr trees under a wide glass sky, working out the details of his defense in his mind. His home was a vast greenhouse atop one of Imperial City’s skyscrapers. The glassed-in food producing facility had been built around the original penthouse apartments to help feed the huge metropolis, but years ago, Boda made the place his own. Using the Force, he had convinced the original owners to sell it to him cheaply, and now it was his own garden, where he grew the exotic plants that he enjoyed more than the company of people. Here, he grew giant carnivorous plants, moving vines, and exploding fungi. They protected him well. Here too, were his beloved Bafforr trees, sentient creatures that spoke to him in their unusual way, warning him of danger and removing his loneliness. And best of all was his sweet-smelling Phelarion moss, a soft, gray-green species that filled every nook and cranny, soothing Boda’s anxieties away. He was truly at home, and he knew his home would fight with him.