A/N: I can only hope I didn't screw this up beyond belief. Vader is...difficult to write.
Anyway, thanks everyone for the follows and faves and comments. Also, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
He had seen her before. He recalled the first occasion with some apprehension. She had been on the arm of Thalassa Tarkin, clutching the woman's limb as though it were a lifeline as the two of them passed between two lines of stormtroopers, the elder speaking in hushed tones. The splash of colour amid so much white and grey had been what caught his eye. And the fact the girl seemed quite out of sorts. He'd brushed her away, intent on seeing to his own tasks; the presence of the Grand Moff's wife offering additional assurance that he had no interest in that quarter. The Emperor might not have any qualms about relying on these men, but then politics was ever a complicated game.
Vader had no love for the Tarkins. The Grand Moff was a capable man, but he seemed the only one of the lot worth anything. Still, he regarded the young woman who had just boarded the Devastator with her entourage. She wore a standard imperial uniform and might have been confused for a Stormtrooper Officer were it not for the conspicuous absence of a rank badge. As always, she cut a neat figure, fitting in next to the crew serving on his ship. She looked about with interest, giving the impression of uncertainty as she stepped forth to greet the man who had broken out of his place in the line and offered words of welcome.
He had to wonder how much she knew of her role in his master's scheme. Her eyes rose from the man she conversed with, settling on his person. Her lips formed a lax oval as she apparently lost her place in the sentence. It was for just a moment. As though his presence had taken her by surprise. Just as quickly as she had taken notice of him, she looked away, redressing the conversation.
Descending from his elevated position, Vader made his way to the two speaking, noting that the females flanking the girl stiffened, attention snapping to him. A lacking guard, he decided but a moment later, pressing on. "And here is Lord Vader," his man interjected within the sentence he hadn't quite managed to finish. Bowing out of the way, he rejoined his comrades.
"Lord Vader, allow me to thank you for receiving us aboard your ship." Her bow was perfunctory, executed with more precision than he would have thought her capable of, given the earlier display. She then raised her head, tipping it slightly backwards so as to meet his eyes. "I have never seen anything quite like it." A brief smile touched her lips. It was out of place.
Intrigued nonetheless, both as to why she faced with a smile and the reason for which the Grand Moff had insisted she be sent as a representative, he gave a slow nod by manner of response. "The ship has had its course set. Join me so we may settle the details of this expedition." Not quite well-travelled, he decided upon further consideration. Vader did not know what to make of that. Had they sent a child to take on what ought to have been a serious mission?
That could not be. If the Emperor acquiesced to Tarkin's suggestion, there was a reason behind it. Without waiting on the girl's agreement, he turned on his heel and marched to the set of private rooms allotted for staff meetings of a private nature. He heard her behind him, her steps quick and sharp, her breathing coming in shorter bursts than before, as though she were making an effort to keep up with him. Still, no complaint came from her quarter and before long the two of them were ensconced in the privacy of the smallest of the chambers.
He sat down. She followed with the same hesitation he had seen before, the delayed response prodding once more at his own curiosity. A little mouse of a girl should not signify in the eyes of anyone, let alone men of power and resolve. "The Emperor wishes to speak to us," he announced, interested in seeing the two of them interact. He'd be able to learn enough, he suspected, by watching what it was his master said to the ingénue. For the moment, he could tell that she was made uneasy by such notions. Nonetheless, she remained rooted in her seat, murmuring superfluous assent. Determined to satisfy himself with answers, Vader made contact.
A projection of his master's face appeared before them. The Emperor's eyes roamed from one to the other, a knowing grin flashing across his face. The pieces had been set and would soon swing into motion. "I see our guest has arrived at her destination in good condition. Keep her safe, my apprentice, for she is key in our design." Only if his master planned to have her take the eyes of the Naboo queen with a youthful, innocent appearance. Not to mention that while such a ploy might well work on the foolish girl to whom the throne had been entrusted, it would certainly hold poorly as far as her advisers were concerned. He kept his peace, however, content to listen as his master laid out his objectives. "Naboo remains blind to the threat of the Jedi. You must impress upon them the necessity of caution, Junior Representative, when dealing with such wily opponents. Likewise they must be made aware of our desire to aid them, if only they will open themselves to the proffered help."
"Of course, Your Highness." He sensed the discomfort rolling off of her in even stronger waves than before as the Emperor continued in the same vein for a short while. He understood at long last what it was his master sought and was glad for the distance between them as doubt wormed its way into his mind. But then, he did not suppose it mattered how the objective was achieved. While his master concentrated his attention on Naboo, he would see to strengthening his own position.
"As for you, my apprentice, Naboo will no doubt offer some solace in its familiarity as you rid the realm of our enemy." Vader gritted his teeth at what he knew to be a purposeful jab. It surprised him, however, when the girl stiffened in her seat. It was but a moment later that he realised she had seen his hand curl into a fist. Her eyes darted guiltily away. There was no time to linger on that.
"My master." There was no true response he could give. Thus he listened. Mercifully, the Emperor had other matters to attend to as well and did not keep them overlong. By the end of it, Vader had learned enough that he was satisfied. The mystery of the Grad Moff protégé solved, he tucked all concern away into a small corner, allowing the girl to be off on her way. He had one less thing to worry about at least, and that, he supposed, demanded its own moment in the sun.
He might have well enjoyed it too were it not for the pain in his limbs, or what remained of them, spiking in intensity, s it always did when he confronted bits and pieces of a loss too recent to contemplate at length. Naboo, his thoughts turned upon a bitter path, thought to prove its mettle. The newly minted Queen thought she could stand against the Emperor. Not even a fraction of the leader Padmé had been, she futilely endangered her people. But then it was no concern of his what the Queen chose to do. In another life, Vader contemplated, he would have gladly offered Naboo the shield of his protection. If only Padmé had waited; if only she'd been willing to listen.
Ache and torment kept him company as he moved through the hallways towards the only safe haven remaining open to him. His meditation chamber received him with a gust of warmed air. He did not need to look to know what was happening, so used had he grown to the pod. Without a second thought he sat down, allowing the mask to be removed. The pressurised chamber offered as much comfort as could be expected. Seated heavily in his chair, Vader lifted one arm listlessly, fingers curling inwards.
"Keep me sane, my love." There were times when he could almost feel her at his back, her arms a noose around his neck. The sweetness of her perfume, a vivid memory, played havoc upon his mind. Indeed, he sometimes caught himself turning as though to catch her there. But Padmé was gone. In time, he supposed, the knowledge would become less obvious in the pain it caused. He closed his eyes, calling to mind the image of his beloved. She was smiling for him, mirth shining in her eyes. That was how she ought to be, always. A tear-stricken face flashed before his mind's eye; a reminder that he hadn't been able to protect that smile and those eyes. An admonishment. Vader pushed away his last memories of her, the recollection bringing to mind his master's words.
Rest did not come easy. The swell of emotion roiling inside of his chest deflated a little at a time for a lack of proper release. He would have some life targets soon enough and then he might unleash his wrath. For the time being, he allowed himself to slip into a meditative trance. Years of training came to his aid, drowning out the din of sorrow and regret. Almost as though he'd been plucked out of the wreck that was his body, he breathed in gingerly. A brief moment of freedom where he could imagine he wasn't tethered to heavy, awkward limbs.
He allowed free rein to his senses. The slow expansion was marked by a tumult of voices, all speaking at once. As a rule Vader did not linger upon the conversation of the ship's crew. It was meaningless chatter meant to fill the void, to alleviate some of the loneliness, if only by the white noise of indecipherable exchanges. As ever, there were some who thought themselves at leisure to waste time with idle chatter. The exercise went on for some time, until he found himself bored.
Nearby, a pair of feet walked lightly. He recognised the presence rather than the sound of those footfalls. It seemed the frightened hare his master thought to use was more relaxed when not under watchful eyes. Failing to detect any other presence near her, he assumed she thought herself relatively safe. Sheer curiosity pushed him to probe further. Something like contentment fluttered weak wings in time with the beating of the girl's heart. Vader surmised she took some comfort in her solitude. He wished he might replicate her response to isolation, but found, much to his annoyance, that the little glimmer of gratification compelled him to sharpen his attention upon the body of origin.
What else was there to do when no immediate danger reared its head? Time had ever gone against his wishes, Vader considered, momentarily relaxing his vigilance in order to lift his hand. The flesh and metal abided by his will. He pulled his lightsabre in hand. The Jedi hiding on Naboo would fall to his hand. He had yet to decide whether he would attempt to refine the speed of his attack or increase the strength behind his swings. The trouble was that even with the best of efforts, he was nowhere near as agile as he'd been before Mustafar. Metal fingers wrapped around the handle of his weapon in a brutal grip. The display of force eased his turmoil none and thus he searched out the fountain of ease nearby.
How odd to think that he'd once known similar sentiments, but stronger. The Grand Moff's dependant seemed to live everything at a slower pace, a lesser intensity. As though she might better protect herself if no particular feeling gripped her. Something of a less pleasant nature lurked beneath the simplicity of her immediate emotions. Vader felt his lips curl. He pulled back, unwilling to peel away any of her layers.
The attack came as a surprise. Vader gripped the bannister, not for balance, but to keep himself in check. A heavy ship as the one they were aboard of would not have an easy time of proceeding with evasive manoeuvres and they couldn't afford to barrel through the line of X-wings. "My lord, what are your orders?" the officer at his side asked.
"Man the TIE fighters." It was a daring attack, if a needless one. He considered what reason could have motivated such an outburst of violence when by all means the outward mission was one of peace. Of course, there was always the possibility that the rebels were simply dull-witted and did not understand the need to bide their time. The ship lurched to the side, one of the shots landing, no doubt, in a sensitive area. There was no time to waste.
He boarded his own TIE fighter, leading the men out. It felt liberating to be able to confront one's foes. Vader relished the opportunity to tear into the attackers. Not so much for the fact that he was wining a battle, but for the knowledge that he crushed all opposition before it gained strength. If only he could figure out what it was these people were after. In the end, it proved an easy fight to win. The X-wings had not been numerous to begin with and the way they'd organised themselves left much to be desired. His men managed to wipe out the two thirds before the remaining lot retreated to ground. He needn't have concerned himself.
Returning to the docking bay, Vader exited his craft, somewhat taken aback to see the Representative rush past him. She approached one of the pilots who had just drawn his palm away from what looked to be an open wound. Immediately, her hands reached for the gaping lesion. The noise kept her words from his ears. He had no trouble, however, taking note of the way she insistently spoke until the bewildered pilot allowed her to guide him to the edge of the bay and sit him on a bench.
A medical droid, one of the many engaged to see to the wounded, took the matter on from there. She did not leave the man's side until a few more words had been exchanged. Her companion gave a nod and with a reluctant step put distance between them. Of somewhat more decisiveness, the girl returned the disembarking pilots, seemingly intent on looking them over. Before long he caught her eye. Vader could not say he was displeased when she paused visibly. The woman she'd been speaking to saw him as well and, presumably the mute exchange, and excused herself. He caught only an assurance that she had suffered no injury.
"Lord Vader," she acknowledged him, brow furrowing gently. "I trust you are unharmed." Harsh breathing filled the silence between them as he considered her.
"You have medical knowledge then?" Hare like still, she flinched at the sound of his voice. So soft and fragile, so easily broken. Her lips parted, but no sound came. It reminded him of the gala and his master's attempt to converse with her.
"Not enough to be of real help, I'm afraid," Melia Motti offered. "But I can help just about anyone to a medical droid." She nodded sharply in the wake of those words. "And I can at least distract the unlucky few who have been hit." Seemingly coming to her senses, she made to depart, "Look at me, standing here prattling. If you will excuse me, my lord, I am going to the medical wing." Prattling, indeed. That was the most he'd heard out of her thus far.
Before he might come to a decision regarding his next step, the fleet Commander approached. Baris Lon gave a brief summary of his report before bringing forth a more pressing matter, "It does not seem a well thought out attack, my lord. Could it be this is a splinter cell on some mission of its own?"
"To lure us away, you mean." The man nodded, pointing out that the remaining X-wings had indeed gone to ground, but it was in the direction opposite the Capital of the planet. "I have considered it. They were hoping to engage us and distract us, but for the moment our objective remains capturing the Jedi knight on this world before they depart." It made sense. He too would have offered up some bait in order to take eyes away from the true mission. Crafty though the Naboo may be, he was craftier still and had the superior strength. "Our losses?"
"Four dead and six TIE fighters inoperative. We can fix the damage on the crafts after we've landed. We also have three critical cases; we need bacta tanks."
"The droids can keep them alive until the necessary materials are acquired?" The Commander nodded. That was enough to satisfy him for the time being. Vader took his leave of the man, making for the small area which had been before convened would serve as sick bay if need ever arose.
Just as she'd said she would, the girl was sitting at the head of one of the pilots, a young man, one of the critical cases by the way she stroked his head. Blood coated the side of his face, pouring from a cut lining his temple. Melia smoothed back his hair and swiped at the wound with what looked to be clean gauze. Meantime one of the droids was working on the man's torso. The hand which had been in the man's hair, reached over to grasp one of his fists. She worked on unclenching his fingers and linking them with hers.
Her voice carried. "Listen to me, listen to me now. You'll be just fine." The pilot had a gabled reply. Vader doubted she'd be able to understand a thing. She continued soothing him nevertheless, "We'll get you in a nice bacta tank and you'll be as good as new. Back to flying in no time." The hand not holding his wiped blood away once again.