Chapter 10
Anakin placed his hands on Luke's shoulders as he guided his son forward, giving him a push in the direction he was supposed to be going. His son was obviously feeling grief, punishment for the fact that his father could potentially die over the course of the next few hours—it obviously frightened him, for Anakin could feel his son shivering.
They did not speak on their way to Vader's office, the oval room that was the end for the Senate corridor. Even though he was not a member of the Senate, a delegate, what the emperor would call 'traitors' like the rest of the empire, his old office was centered in the senate; Vader was on the leash of the emperor then, he was merely a servant standing next to the cruelest man on two feet…
Luke tried to hide the light behind his eyes as he envied the grand atmosphere of the Senate building, but also couldn't hide the feelings of… anguish he felt for his father. He had known him for such a short time, and in the beginning, hated him, but now—he had deep admiration for him.
When they reached Vader's office, unclearly marked and covered in shams of black and carpeting in gray, they stepped in.
Anakin had a look around—he hadn't been here in a while. Nothing seemed the change, except for a few dust bunnies underneath his desk.
Before he slid out behind the sliding door, Anakin slyly said, "Oh, and happy birthday."
Luke smiled. He had remembered! If wasn't odd for a father to remember a son's birthday, but to Luke, he had to make mark of it. He hadn't spoken to his father about his birthday in over a week, made no hints—it was just a miracle he had remembered.
Then, he thought of another thing. How could he be so stupid! Today, too, was the day that marked the death of Padmé Amidala—of the mother he never knew. Of course Anakin had remembered…
He ran his hand through his hair, and frowned. Sitting himself promptly on Vader's desk chair, he swiveled to the side, opening the bottom drawer, looking for something interesting to look at—
His hands found a holovid of a picture of a much younger Anakin, and a young Padmé Amidala. Anakin's arm was arm Padmé's shoulders, her neck, in a tight embrace; he pushed her towards the camera, which he was obviously holding, and kissed her on the cheek. The setting was unfamiliar, but obviously on Curoscant, for there were many speeders gliding along in the background. Her smile spread wide across the scene, and she was glowing with happiness.
Luke stroked the photograph, it still moving from it's first position is was taken to the last. He stuck it inside is cloak, hoping to keep it for later…
He found himself in the hallway sometime later, with no intention of disobeying his father—just curiosity, really. He watched the well-dressed humanoids stride past, for this was their quarter. As the famous faces passed, many looked down at the boy, wondering why the hell he was in such an 'important place' during this time. He ignored them, of course.
That was, until, he saw someone who looked about his age. Desperate for some contact with the human word of children, he approached her, seeing that she was wearing a button on her black dress that clearly read 'its My Birthday'.
He stepped in front of her, cutting her off from where she was going. She was shorter than he, but not by far—her curly hair was done up in a half-bun, and she was wearing a semi-formal black dress with a blue bow sachet on the side of the dress.
She huffed, obviously upset that Luke stepped in front of her way—"Hey," she whined, "I was walking, here—you…"
"I'm—er—I'm sorry to bother you," he said politely. He had seen her face before, but couldn't place it…
"—Well you are," she said flatly.
Luke frowned. Okay, just a little stubborn here. "It's just that it's my birthday too," he managed to get out before she cut him off again.
She debated this, and her frown diminished into a rather neutral look, and then she smiled faintly. "Then happy birthday too you," she said, obviously more kind this time. She curtsied rather clumsily, but didn't seem to care, "Princess Leia Organa," she stated her name rather proudly, not accustomed to meeting random people—
"Oh, so that's how I know you!" Luke exclaimed, thinking out loud. The girl looked at him funny. "I mean I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker." He smiled proudly, too, flashing her almost the same exact smile…
Leia blinked. "Skywalker?" She questioned. "Like Anakin Skywalker—the Jedi Knight?"
He nervously nodded slowly.
"Wow," she said, amazed. "How does it feel to follow in the footsteps of Anakin Skywalker?" Luke opened his mouth to answer, but the dazzled Leia didn't let him answer, "Whom do you live with now—since he died, and stuff? Your mother?"
Luke shook his head, unable to answer any of the questioned. "My mother died when I was born," it was the truth, sorry to say—"but I'm kind of wandering, now."
She cleared her throat, knowing that this kind of person—'a drifter' as her mother used to call them—was not someone royalty should be hanging around with. She wanted to ask why he was here then, why he was in the strict security offices of the Senate building, but couldn't bring herself to talk to this boy anymore. "I—uh—I have to go," she reported, looking around, seeing many stare Luke down. "Happy birthday, okay?"
And she was gone. Luke watched her disappear behind a pillar in the red-carpeted hallway, standing there and watching her leave. He couldn't help but feel something… something… different… about her…
He shrugged it off, reaching inside his cloak to pull out the holovid again, giving it another hard stare, wishing that maybe, just maybe…
The emperor was expecting Vader—he had summoned it when he felt the man land his ship on Curoscant. He glided down the hallway, skimming the walls, swiftly moving down to the even larger office when he sits, waiting for the dark lord.
Anakin approached the red guards, and was granted access easily. The doors slid open slower than before, it seemed—
This is it…"Ah, Lord Vader," Palpatine seemed pleased to see him. His desk chair swerved around to face Anakin. "There has been news of those damn Rebels hiding on Dantooine, Lord Vader. I'd like you too examine the grounds, and if anything is found—"
"I'll know what to do." A sith-like smirk crept up on Anakin's face.
Palpatine mirrored Anakin's evil smirk, flashing his yellow teeth. "They deserve what will become of them," he decided. He paused, getting up from his desk, meeting his apprentice halfway, "Ah, speaking of traitors—isn't this the very day that wife of yours died eleven years ago?"
Anakin grimaced at Palpatine speaking of Padmé like that, almost as if she were a bug, reminding him that it was his fault, after all, that she had died, all those years ago. Don't you dare speak of Padmé like that, he thought, blocking his thoughts from the force.
"Yes, she was a traitor," he kept speaking, "She was a member of the Delegation of Two-Thousand, don't you remember, Vader?" Anakin forced a slow nod, "She came to me—oh, yes, you were there—what a scoundrel. I will never see what you saw in her, Vader. She was nothing but a—"
"Don't say another word," Anakin spilled out before even thinking…
Anakin reached for his utility belt, finding his red bladed saber, igniting it. He willingly held it up to Palpatine's throat, releasing his anger…
Luke, this of Luke, Anakin—it is the only way.
"Luke?" Palpatine spat, a fake smile forming on his face. "Ah, so you're still so carefree about your thoughts being able to be read, Vader." He laughed. "Enlighten me, my apprentice, who is this 'Luke'?"
He didn't realize it—his breath increased rapidly, he was now panting, gasping for air, hoping that this nightmare would be over soon. The blade from Palpatine's neck was met with another red burst of his that ignited for Palpatine's saber.
Both released themselves in a full battle, throwing the 'emperor' against the wall, knocking the statues from the post, crashing to the floor.
Anakin couldn't hear anything. He felt as if his ears were plugged with cotton, as if he was to faint, anytime soon.
"Luke," Palpatine gasped between lightsaber crosses, "Let me guess who he is…"
Anakin held his lightsaber above his head, thrashing it into his old master's, knowing what would come next.
"Brother?"
He thrashed again, only to catch on a swift Palpatine's saber once again.
"Uncle?"
He repeated, over and over, unaware what he looked like crashing into an old man, one of the strongest in the galaxy; he certainly was the strongest when it came to power, when it came to thrust. But Anakin didn't care. Palpatine needed to die—he was a terrible man. Padmé had seen it many years ago, why couldn't he have?
Have you ever considered we're on the wrong side?
"I've got it," Palpatine decided, "Son??"
Anakin screamed, them grunted, as he force jumped to meet with Palpatine again, his anger bubbling. He feared for Luke suddenly—what if he didn't make through this alive? He had know other person to take care of him—no other worthy person…
What have I done?
"Ah, so I am correct, my apprentice," Palpatine sneered, knowing that calling him that would make his anger surge—that he'd finally become a Sith again, against all odds, he could never return to the dark side. "So the child has survived after all. He would make an excellent apprentice, Lord Vader."
"Never!!"
Much to Anakin's surprise, Palpatine put down his mighty weapon, letting it drop down beside him, far away from his reach. "Strike me down, Vader. You've been nothing but weak ever since Padmé died."
"Don't you dare speak her name again, Emperor."
"Like I said," Palpatine repeated, making no move to fight with Anakin further more. "Strike me down. Your anger—I can feel it."
"It gives you focus…
"Makes you stronger…
"Shut up!!" Anakin roared, putting his weapon above his head, standing in the correct stance for the position of killing the sith master. "Enjoy the last second of your pathetic life, 'Emperor Palpatine'…"
"Just seeing you try to destroy me is amusing enough."
He moved it back, placing his foot forward in attempt to kill the man he had come to hate so much—
"You can't do it, can you, Vader—you're no better than the rest of them…"
There were tears forming in Anakin's eyes now, and he couldn't place why they were there. Why was he crying? Was it because if he kills Palpatine now, he won't know what to do after? Maybe because he feared for the future of Luke, his son, and the boy whose father killed the emperor? Was it such a good thing?
Was any of this a bad thing? How was the empire bad?
Sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship to me…Flashes of Padmé filled his head: flashes of early memories, of late—of just lying in bed with her one morning, procrastinating the future, and of just watching her sleep, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest…
Ani, I'm pregnant…Oh, how happy he had been that day! He was going to be a father—it was the best feeling he had felt, ever, in his life. Padmé was going to be a mother, also, one of her dreams from a very long time ago. Why couldn't times be like that now? Why couldn't—
"You wouldn't…"
Anakin chuckled, and thrust his saber downwards, inadvertently driving the weapon into the man's chest...
A/N: Ah, so our story comes to a close end. I'm sorry this took me a long time; I only recently recieved internet in my new house (in case you didn't know, I just moved overseas), so I haven't had any time to update. Anyways, please review--I like your feedback!