Rebirth of the Light
The Years Between
Chapter Two:
The Rebel Standoff
Two months after Rebirth of the Light. . .
"I thought you hated flying."
"I do." Obi-wan replied; hitting the thrusters so hard Padme thought the little speeder might explode. She clung to the twins in her arms and braced against the wind. "Can't this thing go any faster?!" The Jedi complained.
It had taken nearly three hours after the rebels had left with Anakin to get everything together so they could leave. As Padme and Sabé had prepared the twins, Obi-wan had called ahead to the spaceport to receive early flighty permission. That way, as soon as they were aboard, they could take off.
Padme wasn't so sure they weren't simply going to take off now and rise up out of the atmosphere. The ground passed beneath them as one long, green sea, and Sabé clung to the side for dear life.
"Obi-wan, please be careful," the handmaiden called. "You're flying as recklessly fast as Anakin!"
"Good." The Jedi called over the sound of the speeder, the wind stealing his voice and throwing it back in the women's faces. "The faster, the better."
Faster! Faster!! They had to reach Anakin in time. If they could only gain more ground, maybe even beat the rebels to the spaceport, Obi-wan would make them stop and listen to reason. They couldn't take Anakin away. Not now, not after everything that had happened. Loosing him now would be . . .
Obi-wan didn't even want to think about it.
What a fool Skywalker was! Going willingly with them. Didn't he know what would happen? Hadn't he realized he would be forced to face trial?
Yes, yes of course he did, Kenobi thought, trying to calm himself. He needed to focus. Of course Anakin knew what was going to happen. He expected to pay for his crimes, was willing to do anything to try and right his wrongs. But Obi-wan wasn't as willing as his friend. Anakin's death would accomplish nothing, but the Rebels might not see it that way.
"At last." Padme breathed a sigh of relief behind him. "There's the spaceport!"
But there was no speeder coming from there direction and when a monitor of the hangers was asked, they learned the rebel ship had departed some hours ago.
"Everyone into the ship." Obi-wan snapped, parking the speeder in the storage compartment of the hanger. The women hopped out and ran to the ramp as Kenobi paid the man and followed.
The Star Rider, the ship an 18-year-old Anakin Skywalker had rebuilt after it crashed, was Obi-wan's pride and joy. True, it had been the bane of his existence in earlier years, fearing the thing might fall apart on him at any moment during missions. But later, after Anakin's fall from grace, it had been full
of memories and Kenobi cherished the bucket of bolts, knowing it had been the work of his skilled padawan's hands that had put the Star Rider together.
"I hope you're still in good condition." He muttered, quickly striding down the hallway and into the cockpit.
Padme was there, her arms empty as the twins were with Sabé. She was reaching for the controls.
"Padme, what do you think you're doing?" The Jedi placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around. Her face, when looking at him, was scared but determined. An expression he was all too used to seeing on the young queen's face.
"I'm going to fly." Padme insisted when he started shaking his head. "I am, Obi-wan, don't tell me no. They took Anakin from me. They took him and I only just got him back." The tears she had been holding back, trying to be strong, slipped out from underneath her lashes. She dashed them away with an angry hand.
The Jedi nodded, pulled her into a hug so that she could hide her face within his robes. Sighing, Padme leaned into him.
"We'll get him back, Padme. I promise you, we will."
"I know." She replied, "But I can't just sit and do nothing. I need to do something! You understand! Please, let me fly."
Hesitating, knowing she was a trained pilot but also knowing how her husband would feel about this, Obi-wan nodded his agreement and stepped back. Padme gave him a grateful look and turned back to the controls. Obi- wan moved to belt himself into the co-pilot's seat.
"Besides," she laughed, belting in and checking the system, "you don't even like flying, remember?"
As the ship prepared for slight and the thrusters roared beneath them, Obi- wan sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He frowned slightly to himself. No, he didn't like flying. But if that was what it took to get him to Anakin, he'd fly from one end of the galaxy to the other.
If he ever got the chance, he would have to tell his friend that.
It took nearly two weeks to reach the rebel fleet.
Padme thought she was going to go insane. What if something happened to Anakin? What if she never got to see him again? Surely he wouldn't do anything rash! And the Council, of course they would see he wasn't the man he had once been, wouldn't they? Of course! This was all pointless, this worrying. It upset her, and the twins, and even Obi-wan, her emotional rock in the sea of powerful and damning emotions.
As the first week passed, she found herself wondering aimlessly around the ship, looking for something to do, some way to keep herself busy and her mind off their situation.
Wandering farther and farther from the lounge and her twins, who had become fussy from the long trip, Padme returned constantly to the cockpit to check their progress. In the end, she turned to Obi-wan for help and joined him in long hours of practicing mediating. It did not have the same effect on her as it did for Jedi, but it calmed her mind and gave her time to think, without hindering emotions, about the future.
"Obi-wan. . ." she ventured one day. "Do you think maybe it's possible other Jedi children escaped? That there might be others out there? I mean, if there were, you could begin a new order."
"Like you and the rebellion, when the war ends, intend to start a new government? Perhaps, but it would take time, great planning." Kenobi nodded as he sat with her in the little lounge at the table, eating dinner. He thoughtfully poked at a string of pasta. "Much, I believe would have to change."
"Change?"
"Anakin. . .In a lot of ways maybe. . .maybe the destruction of the order was necessary. Not a good thing, but, so much had become. . .soiled. We became too concerned with the republic, and less so with the people. Anakin was right about that. I'm just sorry so many had to die for the changes to come around."
Padme nodded, considering his words. Much also had needed to change in the Republic. Perhaps the Empire was a way of making people grateful for the freedoms they had had, rather than abusing them. Now there would be honorable causes, the need for justice and liberty, things the Empire oppressed.
But, she admitted to herself, if the Rebel Council refused Anakin his life, his freedom, where they all that better than the Empire? Or the Old Republic, for that matter?
Obi-wan was right; there was much to think on.
Well, she had plenty of time to meditate on it.
Anakin had just as much time to mediate on things as did his wife.
There were fewer distractions now that he was no longer with his family. He slept, mediated and took the vitamins he had stored in his belt. Other than that, there were only the hourly checks by the guards, opening the door of the hold in the back of the general's ship and complaining there should be bonds around the Sith's wrists.
Not like he would have tried to escape. Or even harmed the guards. But he understood they had to be cautious. They were afraid of him. Terrified. He could feel it.
And he hated himself for it.
The trip might have been spent in further quiet contemplation, considering what he would say to the Council, if the not for the visit of the Senator.
Far'u, a blue furred humanoid for Gilhad, her face narrow with long, pointed features, walked with distinguished but also weary grace into his cabin. He could feel her distrust, but also her curiosity. It was her weakness. A month ago, he would have bent that to his will, crushed her spirit and used her natural inquisitiveness to his advantage.
Just as Palpatine used my ambition and my feelings of being less than worthy to control me, Anakin thought to himself.
"What do you intend to do?" she asked him after he had risen and greeted her. "When you meet with the High Council?"
"Speak with them. Offer them what I can. I know many things, about the Empire. Secrets. As you know, I was once the Emperor's. . ." Here, he felt his soul shudder in horror. "His servant. His trusted 'friend'. I know a lot that could help the Alliance."
"And why," she asked, stepping closer, her long ears, like a cat's, twitching, as if listening for the sincerity in his mechanical voice, "would you offer that, Lord Vader?"
"Please, Senator. My name is Anakin. Anakin Skywalker."
If she recognized his name or had any knowledge of his past, she did not show it. "Very well, Lord Skywalker. Why?"
"Because," he sighed, "I was wrong. I do not really expect you, or even the Council, to believe me. But it is the truth. I made many wrong decisions and done many... unspeakable things while in the Emperor's service. Things that were done out of anger, out of corrupted emotions. I thought I was seeking justice, vengeance, when all I was doing was killing innocents and pushing away the only people who loved me enough to try and save me. The Empire and its master made a monster out of me. And then hurt thousands. I would undo my crimes, and those of the Emperor's. I am willing to submit to the will of your Council, to the justice and hopefully the wisdom of the Alliance, as to see the end of this tyranny."
For the longest moment, she stared at him. Anakin didn't move, nor did he speak again; merely remained silent and let the former senator draw her own conclusions.
At last, she blinked, as if coming awake. Apparently, that had not been what she had been expecting. Then she shrugged.
"How do I know you aren't lying? You are a Sith."
"Yes," Skywalker nodded, watching and trying to read her feline eyes. "I am a Sith. That, too, was a mistake. A Jedi turns to the Darkside by giving into anger, hate or fear. And I was afraid. Dreadfully afraid of loosing those I loved. And that was my greatest mistake. Only when even I had thought myself lost, was my family returned to me. I will not loose them now."
Eyebrows raised, Far'u listened, then nodded. Turning on the toes of her boots, she swayed to the door. Only for a moment did she glance back at him.
"For a man so well condemned by his coldness, you certainly have a lot of passion, Lord Skywalker." She smiled, then palmed the door and left.
The senator did not return again to his cell, and he was somewhat grateful for it. There was something she had been hiding from him, willing it for her mind. It worried him, but as he felt no threat, Anakin shoved it from his thoughts as well.
He needed no other distractions.
Chapter Two, The Rebel Standoff to be continued...
Yes, I am aware this post was exceedingly short. Remember we discussed the need to downsize? Just look at it this way. Now I can get maybe two posts a day written.
Okay, see? That made everyone smile. ;)
Caslia
