Title: When Hope Disappears

Author: Darth Manul and Darth Corsa

Rating: PG13

Genre: Drama, Angst

Feedback: Always appreciated.

Disclaimer: These characters are definitely not ours.

Summary: ROTS, AU, non-slash. Padme is standing between a rock and a hard place. What can make Amidala kill her turned husband or the Jedi, who failed to help? Or… both?

Author's note: This is a remastered version with some changes and less spelling mistakes. Chameleon-Irony kindly helped as a proofreader and corrected all authors' terrible English patiently.

"Ah, let's stop wasting our time!" Palpatine interrupted Mas Amedda's report. "Obviously, you know what to do. Spare me the details. Just go and execute the plan. That is all." There was not even a trace in the Emperor's voice of the enthusiasm of a minute ago.

Mas Amedda was rather surprised that Palpatine, who had, just moments ago, been directing the search for the corpse of the defeated Jedi and had seemed eager to rule the Empire, was suddenly sending his Vice-Chair, his co-conspirator and ally, packing. But of course, Amedda did not allow any emotion to appear on his face, and went away, after having bowed.

As for the former Chancellor, he needed no companion at the moment. He sat heavily on a platform and rubbed his temples. What had happened, how and why? Everything had been happening exactly as he had foreseen; what unknown force (or was it the Force?) could break that excellence of a working machine?

Both the worry during his conversation with the Chosen One and his hatred of the Jedi while dueling Yoda seemed like nothing in comparison to the array of feelings breaking into the rhythmic process of the Emperor's thinking like an ocean storm on Kamino, taking over his mind and turning it against reason. Everything was frighteningly unsteady, everything was swinging in the balance, and the whole universe now depended on something illusive... His colossal plans, his immense Empire, Lord Vader, himself... It was impossible to understand. Unusually realistic, bright and colorful visions followed each other in Palpatine's mind, some giving him hope, others driving him to angst.

The Jedi! What had they planned once more? What did they hope for? Was it possible that he had predicted his own destiny when he had said to Anakin, "If we work together, I know we can discover the secret"? Could it be that the plan was impossible to execute without Lord Vader?

Ha! Soon he would show his enemies "hope"!

"Prepare my shuttle for immediate takeoff. I sense Lord Vader is in danger."

Although the duel of the two Force users was an impressive sight, it also was a demonstration not of the elegance of mastery, but of the efficiency of a lethal art. How could anyone describe the power of a combatant not warding off blows, not forcing his eyes to stay open when a lightsaber passed an inch away from his face? It was the mass of metal construction, a sea of lava and, perhaps, the secret hope of those, many parsecs away, concerned by the outcome of the fight, that served as the impartial referees and spectators of the duel.

After making a swift, wide swipe with his lightsaber, Obi-Wan made a fantastic (for a normal person) flip over the wide dashboard. If only someone other than his former Apprentice and present opponent had known what a desperate and clumsy move that had been! Anakin immediately appeared an inch away from Obi-Wan. It wasn't only Anakin's eyes but all of him that radiated pure hatred, hatred that seemed to melt everything near him that could be melted.

With a quiet growl, he knocked the lightsaber out of Obi-Wan's hands. The latter automatically stepped back; however, he didn't get lucky again. Anakin pressed him to the wall with the Force and began to choke him.

"A-Ani—" Obi-Wan was wheezing. "You… don't…"

"So it must be," Anakin muttered.

"…were… the… Chosen… One…" Obi-Wan was unable to continue.

At the soft sound of footsteps behind his back, Anakin turned. He narrowed his ice-cold eyes at Padme, who was standing at the door.

"He's dying. My poor former Master. A moment, please," Anakin smiled madly.

Things had gone wrong for Obi-Wan many times during missions. It had not been easy to become and to be a Padawan to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had been under fire, he had fallen into traps, and not long ago he had been captured by Count Dooku. However, he had never fallen into despair. There had been always the great Force; thousands of other Jedi had kept fighting; the Republic had been indestructible, and the whole universe had been surrounding him. But now a disgusting and overwhelming fear flooded into him, and he was ready to clutch at the metal floor with his nails for a chance to stay alive, because he knew nothing would survive after him. The millennia-old Republic was under the control of the Sith Chancellor, the balance of the Force was broken catastrophically, and even the world around him was being blown out by lava, destroying everything and leaving nothing for the future. And Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master, the last of the eliminated ancient Order, was dying in torturous fear and despair at the hand of his former Apprentice devoured by the dark side.

Anakin didn't need to, but he still leaned over his opponent to throttle him with his own hands. "Qui-Gon," he hissed through clenched teeth, "told you to follow the will of the Force!"

Obi-Wan was scratching anxiously at the metal floor, which began to heat rapidly. Anakin clenched his teeth and prepared to end the fight—

With the hollow sound of a blaster shot, a bright red beam burned through his neck. The neophyte Sith silently fell down, not understanding what had happened, to never stand up again.

"Padme!" was all Obi-Wan could say when he managed to open his eyes.

She was still standing at the doors of the deckhouse, pale and tremulous. Obi-Wan noticed that she still hadn't lowered the weapon. Why hasn't she shot me? Obi-Wan wondered in his mind, looking at her trembling hands.

"Obi-Wan, I thought… I thought there was good… but only hate remained in him!"

Those who preached about compassion as central to a Jedi's life really understood nothing about it. The guardians of peace and justice did not feel compassion for anyone personally, but felt general compassion for everyone. It was difficult to know both sides of this feeling at the same time. Obi-Wan, contrarily to his Master, knew the Code well (although he did not always follow it either).

He went straight to business without commenting on his former Apprentice's fate. "We must leave this place right now!" He stood arduously. "I cannot explain why, but I feel that Palpatine will soon be here. My feelings are not very clear…"

This wasn't exactly the truth. A brief vision of Master Yoda's cloak, lonely swinging on a ledge, left little hope at best.

"To meet him means to be killed at once, if this station doesn't melt before that. Let's go, Senator. Your shuttle is suitable and I know a safe place where—Padme?"

She had been holding up the blaster all that time. A bolt of red light from the weapon hit Obi-Wan's chest and he fell back to the floor with a quiet wheeze, gulping air in surprise. Although the wound wasn't bleeding, he tried to squeeze it with his hand—but this could not save him.

"W…why?" Strength was leaving him.

"For everything you all have done." The Senator's voice did not sound frightened, but extremely calm. "You made me change."

She bowed above the corpse of Anakin for a moment, then stood up and hurried back. It was impossible to miss the shuttle on the dark roof of the Separatist leaders' final hideout reluctantly sinking in boiling lava.

"Senator Amidala! What an… unexpected occurrence!" Palpatine hissed anxiously, moving quickly from the shuttle's exit towards Padme. "It's a pity… You must immediately—"

"Looking for Anakin?" she interrupted.

The Emperor staggered. So soon? But why? Palpatine himself had begun to think of betraying his own Master only when the latter had become inconvenient for his plans (and telling his Apprentice about that top-secret investigation had been a silly idea)…

Hey, hold your varactyl! They were about to have a baby! So this was what the Chosen One was hoping for: having killed his Master, he would become the Sith Master; when his child grew up, he would take him as his Apprentice, and that would be the time for searching for a way to immortality. There was no place for Palpatine in this plan.

Well, it was unknown who would win yet. But Palpatine was just a couple of steps away from a vulnerable Padme with the baby…

"Senator," he took his lightsaber from his belt in a way that made sure she saw it, "four steps forward, please, to the middle of the ladder, quickly." The disfigured Chancellor grinned stiffly at her, trying to control his burned face. "While the nightmares of some are about the death of friends, others' are about their own skin."

Padme, however, did not listen to him. She just held something out to him.

The Sith Lord looked at it suspiciously. This was Anakin's lightsaber! He remembered the moment when the blade had appeared from this handle and finished his last (though now he wasn't so sure) battle. What had they planned together? He wouldn't take the weapon, obviously. He tried to decide what to do.

"Take it, my Lord. Anakin is dead. There is only one thing I want now—to raise my children in safety. So I prefer to be on the winning side."

Nonsense! Palpatine prepared to use his lightsaber at a moment's notice. A trap! The Chosen One was waiting somewhere, counting the seconds.

What of the Force? No, it was absolutely impossible! Amidala would never—

"Everything I believed in... is gone."