Chapter Twelve
Blinding co-dependency, nauseating fear, and pain. The bitter, stinging pain of betrayal. It was all of this that drove Padmé to relinquish hope, to wish for silence - for the eternal peace of sleep. Once she had assured her children with safe with Obi-Wan, she had simply given up.
Upon opening her eyes, Padmé was at first disappointed to discover she was still alive, and in the tiny room she lay, there was one creature. One small creature who had such an overwhelming presence it made his size deceptive.
It was Master Yoda who had saved her life, who put that small spark of hope in her mind just before she passed out on the delivery table. Instead of the sleep of death which she had initially longed for, a deep, Force-enhanced coma had taken over her body.
Her spirit was waiting. Waiting for the chance to redeem itself. The Jedi Master had promised he would help her, and so it began.
Years of not only physical training, but mental as well. Her midichlorian count was just enough to develop her talents in self defense and covert operations. She could detect the slightest movement, a secret presence without the use of her physical sight, and she could seemingly vanish in thin air with the use of agility and aided speed.
It had been an uphill struggle, but her motive all the while was to redeem herself. As a woman, as a friend, as a Senator. It was her fault that Anakin was who he was today. She had witnessed the evidence of his turn. She should've trusted in her instincts, told Obi-Wan what was going on.
But they hid their relationship, their struggles and his weaknesses from their friends, her family, her co-workers, but most damaging, from his Master.
Obi-Wan would've helped. She should've insisted, sought him out even without the knowledge of her husband.
And now it was her responsibility to do something about it. If she didn't, more innocents would suffer at his hand. Even her own children. Her children would face insurmountable odds, suffering, and possibly death by the hand of their own father.
Only she had the ability to approach him, to incapacitate him. His powers had grown strong in the Force, Yoda had told her. She must depend upon the element of surprise and rely upon his emotional attachment to her.
She was counting on that. He must still love her, or this was all for naught.
Her plan had been developing for months. Each minute detail with every possible modification sketched in her mind.
Which was why Padmé was so hesitant to accept Nate Kaldon's offer to help. Not that she didn't trust him. He was younger than she was, had worked alongside her in the senate for several years as an apprentice.
But something about the ease of her passage into the senate building prickled the hairs along the back of her neck.
She should've known better. Trusted her instincts.
They were met in the corridor on the floor just below the Emperor's main office, where Padmé believed Darth Vader to be. The Emperor himself had traveled to the Outer Rim to motivate the workers building his new battle station to increase their production rate, in his own special way.
Darth Vader was alone. In that wide, oval office. Flanked only by two red-robed executive guards.
Her plan of overtaking him was rather simple. To dispatch the guards and stun him with her presence, approach him and use her customized weapon to immobilize him. Then, would she take advantage of his paralyzed state to end the galaxy of the threat of him once and for all.
But before she and Nate stood a slight hitch to her plan - in the form of three clone troopers. Armed and asking questions.
They mustn't make a scene in the hallway, or else she would raise suspicion and Anakin would become aware of her presence much sooner than she had desired.
Perhaps she could talk their way out of this. The thought passed through her mind, however, her hope was soon squashed by an accusation coming from the Captain of the guard, as he ripped away the hood of the velvet robe Padmé had worn over her battlesuit, revealing her facial features to the helmeted clone.
"Senator Amidala. Lord Vader will be pleased to see you. Take them to the holding cells."
Padmé sat opposite the cubicle where the troopers had placed Nate. He looked worried. She tried to lift his confidence with a smile, but her own confidence was quickly waning as well, especially when they drug Nate out of his cell and took him away.
Hours passed slowly before the security guards returned to escort her upstairs as well. She hid her emotions as she saw the Royal Imperial guards drag away Nate's lifeless body. It did give her pause, however. She understood firsthand how he had died, how an invisible grip more than likely had stolen his life away.
Darth Vader had his back turned to her when she was aggressively brought into the room, the tight grips on her both her forearms bruisingly painful.
Padmé had heard stories of his appearance. Of how his final battle with Obi-Wan had damaged him so severely that he required a med suit. However, she really wasn't prepared for what she was seeing, or how very intimidating he was.
Her heart skipped a beat as he turned. The bitter taste of her own bile crept up into her throat as the stories of his ruthlessness flashed in her mind, but Padmé quickly returned to her scheme and put on her most innocent and charming face.
"Let her go."
The voice rasped behind the mask and the grip upon her body was immediately released.
"Leave us."
The command was immediately followed, and Padmé found herself alone, facing the most dangerous being in the Galaxy.
She twirled the golden ring upon her finger and slowly approached him, displaying her false sense of pleasure through a smile and unshed tears.
She only made it halfway across the room before the monster had her in his arms and was holding her tightly.
"Oh Padmé. You're alive!"
The words and the reunion could have been joyful in another life, but in the one she was currently living, they made her sick to her stomach.
