"W-who a-are you?" she managed to whimper somehow.
The slight figure locked gazes with her.
"Vader," he leaned in and said in a child's voice, but it still sounded too deep; darker than a boy's ever should. "Darth Vader."
Chapter 10
Several light years away from Naboo, Senator Cos Palpatine stopped mid-sentence on live feed. This surprised many of those watching him, as he had a reputation for being the picture of a perfectly in-control man. The press had just gotten word of his Queen going back to their planet, and they wanted his opinion. As always, he'd been the confident senator, full of concern and worry for his home world...and then he stopped.
The group stood in silence for several seconds, and he still did not respond. Many news reporters exchanged glances, and one of them went so far as to speak out of turn. "Senator?" the reporter—a blue-skinned, female Twi-lek—said aloud. He didn't answer.
The small smile that appeared on his lips would not be visible to any regular onlooker. Indeed, only someone who knew him intimately would ever have had a chance at identifying the expression correctly.
"Senator!" the Twi-lek said again. This time, Palpatine heard them and seemed to jolt from a reverie.
For a moment, he didn't seem to know where he was, yet no fear or uncertainty entered his expression at all. "Forgive me. As you can see, this has affected me deeply, and I want the universe to know that neither I, nor the other Nubians will give up! As soon as the Jedi dispatched returns with the proof necessary, we will have our home back!" Nods of approval met his exclamation, and he continued on.
xXx
In the Jedi Temple meditation room, Yoda's eyes suddenly flew open. Next to him, Mace Windu sensed his fellow Jedi's distress.
"What is it?" he asked.
Yoda looked up at him sadly.
"A grave mistake I may have made."
xXx
Jedi Knight Traavis felt the switch from light to dark on the planet clench at his soul. Even as he flew out of the exploding ship, essentially saving the Gungans as the droid army shut down, he knew something had gone horribly wrong.
With little thought to the cheering pilots over the com, he turned his ship towards the planet. He knew he would arrive too late to be of any real help, but that did not mean he wasn't going to try. He had to. He had at least two comrades on the planet, and he could not count himself a true Jedi if he didn't.
xXx
In the lowest mechanical and ventilation rooms of the palace, three figures whirled, twirled and traded blows with their lightsabers as they leapt and dove across the different walk ways intersecting the particularly large chamber. They'd been going at a break-neck pace for several minutes, the two Jedi playing tag-team against the Sith.
Then, as if on command, all three froze at the same time, halting their duel and staring unfocused ahead of them as if to confirm something they'd only just become aware of.
Then, recognition caused the Jedi to go pale. To Maul's annoyed surprise, they exchanged glances. How dare they take their eyes off of their enemy? Did they underestimate him that much? The fools.
"Anakin," they said at once, and that quickly, the red and black Sith Lord was forgotten as they turned on their tail and ran. At first Maul found himself surprised. Then curious. Did they want to go and stop this new entity? This 'Anakin'? Then he felt the familiar, comforting rage. His prey had decided to try and run, for whatever reason. He would not allow that to happen.
"You will not escape me," the Zabark hissed and took off after the Jedi. He would kill the pair of weaklings. Then he would seek out this new darkness and make it his own. With that kind of power backing him, he could easily take over and become the next Sith Master.
An anticipatory grin split his face as the trio raced through the palace.
xXx
Vader looked up at the woman he had pinned to the stone pillar with the Force. She had on enhancing eyeware, probably the kind that allowed for several different spectrums of vision, so he could not see the fear in her eyes. He could feel it though, and he reveled in it. What he could see of her face had already begun to turn a lovely shade of purple and she continued to struggle in vain, using up what little precious oxygen her body already had inside of it. He allowed her esophagus just enough slack to let in the barest trickle of air. It would keep her alive after all. And he wanted her alive. For now. It would make her upcoming death that much sweeter.
She would pay for what she'd done.
The Dark Side flowed through him in familiar waves, and he marveled at it. This is what he'd been so afraid of? This power? Oh, he'd forgotten how good it felt to be strong. For the first time since he'd come to the past, he felt like he had complete control of the situation...and he liked it. No, he loved it.
And right now, he wanted it.
How could have ever fought this? Why had he avoided it when it held all the answers? It always had.
He could feel Obi-wan desperately yelling at him from the back of his mind. Some people never changed. The weak old fool. Well, in this universe, the weak young fool.
And right then, he realized just what he could do. With the Dark Side as his ally, and his knowledge of the future, he could easily destroy Palpatine and lead the Galaxy into an era of true peace. With him at the head of course.
The Jedi would protest, but he would deal with that when the time came. Sidious would prove to be the more dangerous threat at the moment.
The difference was, now he knew it.
Oh, and Sidious would pay.
But first, this woman would. He approached, shutting down the lightsaber and holding his hand out further and clenching his fists. The already panicking woman opened her mouth, futilely trying to draw in air as he finally closed off her supply completely.
Death by asphyxiation had always been one of Vader's favorites. The person would lose all sense of dignity as they lost control of their internal systems, causing whatever waste inside the body to be expelled. Anything left in the stomach would undoubtedly come up too if he could draw out the spasms.
It was the least she deserved for hurting Padme. The gaping hole where the woman he loved should have been in his life—in both lives—would never heal. So he used it. He turned that pain into anger, and hate, and rage. And he would enjoy every minute of it.
A cruel grin crossed his features as he stepped forward again.
xXx
Obi-wan had never been at such a loss before. He knew this feeling. He'd known it ever since he'd met Xanatos, Qui-gon's fallen former apprentice.
This tainted cold that whispered false promises of power and gain was the very essence of the Dark Side. And he felt it coming from Anakin!
Sometimes he hated being right.
So why had he and Qui-gon silently agreed to go racing through the palace with an enraged Sith Lord on their heels to try and help the boy? Why did he feel so strongly? He didn't know, and the other Jedi didn't seem to either.
"Obi-wan, we cannot lead the Sith to the Queen," Qui-gon said, his breath beginning to hitch.
"Master?" he looked over his shoulder for the barest second.
"Go to Anakin. I will distract the Sith."
Obi-wan suddenly went numb. "What? Master, no! If you and I get separated..."
Qui-gon looked him hard in the eye, even as the continued to run. "I am not afraid to die."
"I can't lose you!" Obi-wan insisted.
"You can," Qui-gon said. "Because you're stronger than I am, Obi-wan."
"Master, no! We'll take him together!"
Qui-gon shook his head. "And then what of Anakin? He is the Chosen One! What will happen if the Chosen One falls to the Dark Side? You must stop him, Obi-wan."
His mind urged him to accept his master's logic, but his heart wouldn't hear of it. A whisper told him that he could do little for Anakin at the moment anyway.
"I won't, Master! We'll face him together! We'll face both of them!"
Qui-gon smiled. "I'd wondered where you'd gone, Obi-wan." The padawan blinked at his master, unsure of just what the man meant. "Go, Obi-wan. I'm giving you an order," Qui-gon insisted again.
"I won't!" Obi-wan responded.
His master looked at him, and Obi-wan met the gaze with his own determined glare. Only two Jedi could glare at each other while running at break-neck speeds through a maze of hallways. Finally, the Jedi Master smiled, relenting. "Very well. Now!"
Somehow, he'd known. The Sith had to have known what they were going to do, because the moment they stopped, Obi-wan felt a twinge of warning in the Force. He moved, but far too late as a heavy vase smashed into his head, knocking him down.
"Obi-wan!" Qui-gon's voice sounded somewhere above him, but he heard it as if through water. Colorful spots popped into his vision at random, and he fought unconsciousness. Great, probably had a concussion. Well, if he knew that he was thinking at least somewhat lucidly. Gingerly, he reached to the Force and released the pain and worry into it gratefully. It helped. A lot. His vision began to clear, and that's when he noticed his master fighting the Sith...alone.
Eyes wide, he struggled to get up, willing his vision to clear completely, going so far as to douse the area in the healing that was the Force. It complied slowly. He'd never been all that adept at healing. Oh how he wished he'd paid closer attention to Bant's lectures now.
As he stood, the world swayed, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet.
"Obi-wan," Qui-gon said through his grunting as he kept the Sith at bay, "stay down!"
Obi-wan didn't listen. They both knew he needed healing, but the padawan couldn't leave the one person he cared about most to die at the hands of a vicious Sith. After a few seconds, his stomach stopped doing acrobatics and he straightened, drawing his lightsaber.
"Obi-wan, no!" his Master said. It only took that moment of distraction for the Sith to knock Qui-gon's blade aside, and stab him through the chest.
Obi-wan felt it through the bond. He felt the shock, and worry, and pain and...acceptance.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Obi-wan screamed, ignoring the pain in his head, and he launched himself at the Sith.
xXx
Vader wasn't quite sure when Obi-wan's yelling stopped being directed at him. He'd gotten used to tuning the Jedi Master out, so the silence didn't really faze him.
The anger did.
So much so, that he lost concentration out of sheer surprise and the woman fell to the ground gasping and coughing. Anakin paid her no heed, now focusing on that little part of his soul that would always be connected to his old master.
It was true. He could feel Obi-wan's anger. Obi-wan never got angry. He got upset, stern, annoyed all too often, and sad. That was all before he released those emotions to the Force. But even then, he never got angry.
And he never hurt the way Vader could feel he did. The sense of loss and attachment... It shocked him down to his very core.
At first, he didn't know what to make of the situation. He'd never even dreamed of dealing with such a thing because it was so implausible. 'Obi-wan' and 'anger' didn't belong in the same sentence unless 'was' and 'not' or other terms with similar meanings came in between them.
Then a smile grew on his face. Obi-wan was angry.
Jedi never got angry because anger lead to hate, and hate lead to the Dark Side. He could get Obi-wan on his side. It wasn't that he needed the older Jedi with him, but taking Palpatine down would be so much easier if he had an accomplice with the same goals...
This younger, more malleable Obi-wan made an ideal candidate. But first, Maul had to be out of the picture.
Despite the rage bordering on hate, the Jedi had yet to truly draw on the Dark Side, only allowing it to trickle in instead of embracing it. He also seemed injured somehow. At his current level of technique and power, there was no way he could defeat the Sith without fully drawing on the Dark Side anyway.
Use it, he urged through the Force, only just then noticing the growing mass of anticipation growing in his stomach. Use the power...
xXx
Use it. Obi-wan almost allowed himself to become distracted by the impression that settled in the back of his mind. Almost. He could only allow a small portion of his brain to analyze the thought.
Vaguely he wondered just what he was supposed to use, but his focus on the fight at hand didn't allow for much thought. All he knew was that he needed to avenge his master's defeat. He wanted to. Desperately. Use the power...
He didn't care whether he was using power or skill or speed. He just wanted to end it. He wanted to end this thing's existence!
Even with his head pounding and throbbing, he matched the horned being stroke for stroke, only stopping when they broke away from the blows for quick assessments before launching attacks at each other again. Every time they took a step back from each other, Obi-wan could see an anticipatory gleam in the other's yellow eyes. It only served to make the Jedi angrier. His master's presence continued to fade and the Sith was enjoying this. Along with the anger, this realization brought disgust. How could any being think like that?
Obi-wan decided then and there that he would do anything to cut off this creature's life. Anything.
Good... He didn't hear the word so much as glimpse a general approval, and it confused him. The thoughts felt distinctly alien to his mind, like they came from a completely alternate source. But where?
That thought cost him. Taking his mind off of the battle at hand, for even a moment, was not something he could afford to do. The Sith sprang forward, and levered Obi-wan's lightsaber out of his hand, sending it clattering behind him to lie next to the dying Jedi. Shock and panic stopped the padawan from doing more than widening his eyes before the Sith used a Force push to shoot him in the opposite direction of his master and weapon. He landed hard on his backside and slid into the base of a pillar. He let out a cry of pain as the pressure that had shoved him into the support column did not lessen.
Obi-wan gasped, willing his winded lungs to do work. The Sith continued to advance slowly, obviously gloating at his victory.
For just a moment, Obi-wan looked up and was filled with an anger and rage that he'd never felt before, and he reached for it. He needed something more to defeat the Sith, and he felt a hidden power there.
Then he stopped. Where had this sudden extra power gotten him? Pinned to a wall and barely able to breathe. Power didn't help, it corrupted. If he wanted to live through this, he'd have to calm down.
He had to think.
The Sith had not been able to cut Obi-wan off from the Force, so there had to be something...
An idea came to him as he looked down the hall at Qui-gon's prone form, and the two long, cylindrical objects lying in fairly close proximity...
If he brought either one of the ligthsabers to him with the Force, not only would it arrive too late, but undoubtedly the Sith would block it somehow. No, he needed a distraction.
Sending a glare up at the advancing figure, he reached out with the Force and grabbed at some decorative vases, drawing them towards the dark figure.
The Sith sliced through them easily, only barely losing a step and then shooting a look at Obi-wan that said 'is that the best you can do?'
Obi-wan's answering smile accompanied by a snap-hiss had Maul spinning around. The Jedi had activated his lightsaber with the Force and then brought it speeding towards the Sith. The darksider brought up his own lightsaber just in time to deflect the weapon, then reached out with a hand and grabbed the hilt, deactivating the blade easily.
He was just about to turn to the Jedi, probably toying with the idea of killing Obi-wan with his own blade, when he was forcibly stopped by something foreign in his chest. It took him a moment to blink and look down. A good foot of a green lightsaber stuck out from his body.
Behind him, Obi-wan gave the blade a good tug, drawing it out of his opponent and allowing the Sith to fall to the ground. It hadn't been easy, moving more than three different objects from different directions at the same time, but it had been worth it. When Maul had turned to face the lightsaber coming at him, he'd let the pressure holding Obi-wan down, and the Jedi had caught the second, deactivated and unnoticed lightsaber. He hadn't hesitated in shoving it through the darksider.
As Obi-wan stared at the dying Sith before him, he shut off his blade. Funny, now that he'd accomplished his goal, he felt no satisfaction. Only a deeply rooted sadness.
It only took a moment for him to rush to his Master's side.
"Master..." he gasped.
"It...it's too late," the older Jedi managed to mutter.
"No!" Obi-wan protested, shaking his head.
"Help him...Obi-wan. Anakin...help him..."
The fraying bond snapped, breaking with a firmness that left no room for argument. Obi-wan's master had died.
For the first time in over a decade, the padawan did something he he had thought he would never do again.
He cried.
xXx
Padme didn't know quite where she'd ended up. All she knew was that it didn't matter. Somehow, she recognized that she'd fallen unconscious. The sharp pain in her shoulder probably had something to do with it.
"Padme..." A voice called out to her. She turned to look over her shoulder, but her eyes found no one. Not that she could really see anything, but that was the closest she could find to the general concept of her searching out another entity.
"Hello?" she called. Her voice didn't echo at all, but still seemed to stretch away from her, moving forever towards an unseen horizon.
"Padme..." the voice said again, louder this time.
A flash of a figure, a woman dressed in Jedi robes, crossed her mind. The next instant, it vanished like smoke drifting into the atmosphere. What had she just seen?
"Padme..." It came again, louder than ever. It also sounded more strained than ever.
The image of the woman, a blond woman, came to her strongly before it vanished again, but this time, she caught and held onto the impression.
"I'm here!" she said. "Who are you?"
"You must reach him..." the voice whispered, floating in and out on invisible currents. She still wasn't quite sure she'd really heard anything.
"Him? Reach who?"
The voice returned. "You're the only one who can!" She sounded so desperate. "Wake! Wake up! Or there will be no hope. I can't accept that! I won't! Neither will you! Wake!"
She turned around in the white motion of her mind, but the presence had vanished. "Wait!" she called. "How do I wake up? Who are you?" But no answer came.
Frustrated, and more than a little worried, she sat down and thought. How could she make herself wake up? She'd never tried to consciously awaken herself before. How did one go about doing so?
The pain, she realized suddenly. The pain linked her to the real world. She needed it to take her there now.
Gritting her teeth, she turned all of her focus to her shoulder...
Gasping out a soft, strangled scream, she opened her eyes. Captain Panaka knelt above her, surrounded by several of the men who had accompanied her on the mission. He wasn't looking at her, though. Instead, his wide eyes stared over at something on the other side of the Throne Room.
Trying to ignore the agony screaming through her arm and chest, she forced herself into a semi-sitting position and followed his gaze.
Again a gasp escaped her lips, this one of horror.
It was Anakin. Sweet little, helpful, 9-year-old Anakin that looked like he was about to kill the woman lying slumped on the ground in front of him.
You have to stop him, the voice echoed through her memory. You're the only one who can!
Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and forced all of her energy into saying one word:
"Anakin!"
xXx
Vader felt Obi-wan emotionally backing away from the Dark Side and hoarded a surge of anger. As ever, the faithful Jedi. If he would not turn, then he would only be a problem Vader had to fix. Nothing more. Shame really, but nothing the Sith couldn't get over.
He turned his attention back to the unconscious woman in front of him. Off to the side, the Viceroy and his attendant lay unconscious next to each other. He'd have to take care of those pathetic weaklings too, and he would soon enough. First, though, he wanted this woman's life.
Just as he raised the lightsaber to strike, he felt Maul die and faltered for a moment. So Obi-wan had managed to overcome the odds yet again. Even without the Dark Side—especially without the Dark Side—it was an impressive feat. There was no chance of Obi-wan turning now.
He would go to his fatally wounded master and have the man die in his arms, as he had before.
Vader would have scoffed again, but just then, another unbidden image came to mind. The image of a young man dressed in black and pleading with him to stay.
"You're coming with me!" he insisted. "I'll not leave you here, I've got to save you!"
Stupid, stubborn and completely desperate, begging with his father in an unspoken plea. Don't leave me!
"You already have," he'd said. He remembered how earnestly he'd felt that. Luke had saved him. Or had he?
Blinking, Vader looked down at the woman unsurely. He still wanted her to die. Shouldn't she pay the price for hurting—killing Padme?
Then a voice behind him...an ever familiar, sweet and all the more desperate voice.
"Anakin!"
He drew a breath, not daring to hope. He'd been so sure...he'd seen her die...or had he? Whipping around, he saw several of the men crowding around Padme as she struggled to sit up. Her face had gone pale, and she clutched at her shoulder, obviously in a great deal of pain, but she was alive.
"Padme...?" he asked. He vaguely felt surprise that his voice came out high-pitched and youthful instead of harsh and mechanical.
"Anakin, it's alright. I'm okay."
He didn't know what to do. She was obviously in pain, and he felt torn between taking revenge and going to her side. He was also torn between pitying Obi-wan for his loss and killing him for not turning. Both of the powerful conflicts surrounded those he had once been close to. Shouldn't he throw those away? But weren't they the reasons behind why he'd turned in the first place?
Confused and at a loss, he looked between the guards, staring at him in a sort of awed fear he'd come to expect from people, and Padme's pleading eyes. Then he looked between her and the woman lying at his feet.
Then he looked down at the green, glowing lightsaber.
Believe in you I do, because a good person you are. The memory of Yoda's words couldn't have hit him harder if they'd been made from metal.
He backed away from the lightsaber as if it were a tunnel snake, letting it clatter to the floor as it switched off. Then he took another look around the room, taking in the scene as if through new eyes.
What had he done?
What had he done?
He'd fallen. Again. He'd allowed his own personal feelings to obscure his judgment without even verifying that they were true. Just like last time.
"Anakin?" Padme asked, sounding uncertain and coaxing.
Suddenly he had to get out of there. He had to get away. Away from her forgiving glance that he did not deserve. Away from the judgmental, fearful stares the men in the room continued to shoot at him. Away from the handiwork of the three unconscious enemies he'd been more than willing to murder in cold blood.
The door was still jammed shut, so he did the only thing he could do at the moment. Much to the horror of the others in the room, he turned and fled out the window, jumping onto a ledge several meters below before taking off along the moldings like a panicked gizka. He knew he could not get far enough away, but he could try. He'd run until he could stop the guilt.
He ran for a long time.
A.N.: Well, you guys get a new one earlier this week. Mainly because my schedule at work changed, so Mondays aren't as open to me as they were before. *shrug* Ah well.
Anyway, please let me know what you think!
Haven't done a disclaimer in a while: Doesn't belong to me. I'm just having fun with it.
Shout out to Amidala Skywalker for beta-reading this!
Alright, alright, I'm done. Going to the next chapter now.