Chapter 10: Occursum Domini
TANTIVE III: EN-ROUTE TO ALDERAAN
Ribbons of iridescent blue and white light streamed passed the Tantive III as it hurtled through hyperspace. Ferus and Caleb both sat at the large conference console, trying to process what had just taken place. Not only had they failed to save the Queen, but they'd also lost Padmè to the Sith in the process. It had all gone so horribly wrong, and neither one of them wanted to talk about it.
"Well, Sabè is asleep," Jaina announced, rubbing her arm and taking a seat. "The ship's medics had to sedate her."
Ferus looked up from his entwined hands to the young blonde. "Why's that?" he asked.
Dragging her hand up into her hair, she started pulling out her braid. "She was hysterical. Between the constant tears she just kept repeating, 'It's him, he's got her'. There was nothing else they could do."
Caleb scrunched up his face. "It's him? What the kriff does she mean by that?" he asked.
"There has to be some sort of history between the two of them, Caleb. He was, after all, at her mausoleum," Jaina replied.
Ferus's ears pricked at the young woman's deduction. A brief flashback of their confrontation and failed rescue attempt flashed before his eyes. He stared up at his two padawans, like he'd been shot in the back. "You're absolutely right, Jaina," he stated. Turning his gaze to Caleb, he cocked his brow and leant forward. "Did you happen to notice the way he reacted when she ran out? It was like we didn't even exist."
Caleb shrugged his shoulders and stood up, glancing back at them. "No, I didn't," he dismissed, "I was slightly preoccupied with trying not to get myself killed."
"Master?" Jaina asked, her crystal blue eyes brimming with questions.
The older Jedi turned to her, "Yes?"
"Obi-wan seemed to know her rather well, he even recognized her voice on the transmission. Do you think maybe he might be able to help us?"
With a sigh, Ferus moved to push himself up from his chair. "I'm not sure my young padawan," he replied, reaching his arms up into a stretch and yawning. "Perhaps we can ask him when we meet up." He glanced between the two exhausted padawans. "But for now, the best thing we can do is rest. Once we get to Alderaan we have a long journey ahead of us."
"Where are we going master?" Jaina asked.
The older Jedi trudged to the door and lent on the frame. He glanced over his shoulder. "We are going to Tatooine."
IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: EN-ROUTE TO CORUSCANT
Where have you been hiding? What happened to our baby?
So many questions swim in my head.
Shifting my boots, I stare at her sleeping, watching the Japoor snippet I gave her gently rise and fall with each breath. I wanted her in my chamber, lying in my unused bed and safe with me, where I could make sure she never disappeared again.
But something convinced me to keep her here, hidden in the guest quarters right next to my own. I have of course, altered the codes to the security locks and stationed two troopers at her door; both to keep her in and more importantly to keep everyone else out. Only I know those codes. Only I can enter or leave.
I am not taking any chances. Not now that I have her. I just wish that I could remove my mask. To be able to see the ruby red flush in her cheeks, the true depth of her hazel eyes when she opens them, but I can't. Still, I guess it's a blessing in disguise. At least this way she won't see my face; won't see the horrific scars on my skin or the piercing amber hue of my eyes. If they are even that colour right now – somehow I doubt it going by the excruciating pain I am experiencing.
Will you even want me when you see what I've become. After witnessing first hand what I am truly capable of?
My heart grows heavy. She probably won't. Not that it matters, I'm not letting her go. Not now ... not ever. She's my wife, I did this for her. I sacrificed myself and became this thing for her.
Did her eyelids just twitch?
A solid lump forms in my throat. They just twitched again, I wasn't imagining it. This is really happening, she's finally slept off the stun ray's effects. Taking a deep calming breath, I fold my arms over my chest and watch as she slowly comes to.
Her eyes gently flutter then suddenly burst open. She yanks the covers up and scrambles against the upholstered bedhead, sitting bolt upright and staring straight at me. I can feel her fear pulsing through the force. Normally the beast inside me would relish in it, gorging on the sensation. But not this time. I don't want her fear. The pure thought of it sickens me. I want to run over and cradle her trembling body in my arms, begging for her forgiveness, but I know I will only frighten her more.
Opening my mouth to speak, I find myself lost for words and my ears tune in to the respirator relentlessly hissing in-and-out. My heart feels like it's about to explode, pounding away furiously. I can't do this. I don't know what to say. Seeing her terrified eyes staring up at me and her hands shakily clutching the blanket to her breast, I am overwhelmed by guilt.
Without warning it abruptly turns into anger, rising dangerously close to the surface. I drop my hands and clench them tight trying to contain it. They shake by my hips. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her before I lose control. Spinning on the heel of my boot, I make for the door.
"Wait."
The sound of her wavering whisper pulls me to a stop and I freeze. My heart is thumping and the respirator falters, rasping and clicking oddly under the strain. I blindly stare at the door, so close yet so far away, unable to move.
"Where am I?"
I swallow. My throat is dry and coarse. Closing my eyes I stutter in a shallow breath. "On-board the Exactor," I reply.
"Oh," she sighs. "Where ... where are you taking me?"
I shouldn't have answered, because now I know the questions won't stop. It's just who she is, who she always was, curious about every minute detail. "We are heading for Coruscant."
"Oh," she responds, and I can hear the disappointment in her tone.
I go to take another step.
"Wait. Who are you? Why didn't you kill me?"
I pause again, grinding my teeth. I knew she wouldn't recognize me like I am. Why should she? But then again some stupid part of me buried deep beneath the surface had silently hoped she would. I whirl to face her and fold my arms. Allowing the respirator to cycle I stare into her eyes once again, battling the urge to disclose everything.
"We both have questions, but now is not the time. My officers will bring you your meals and ensure you are taken care of. We can discuss all other matters once we reach the Capitol. Until then you will remain in here."
My tone came out harsher than I desired, but the effect was sufficient. She raised her brow at me and for the briefest of seconds I caught that familiar flash of defiance sparkle within her wide eyes. Folding her arms, she held my gaze and huffed. That's my girl. Feisty and determined. That undying strength that made me fall so hard for her.
"So I'm your prisoner then?" she snaps back, slightly more aggressive than before.
I turn to face the door and pause, dipping my head. Glancing back, I growl in return: "If that is how you wish to perceive it."
"How I wish to perceive it?" she replies.
"Yes."
That's it, I'm done. Striding for the door I wave my gloved hand over it and it slides open. Commander Appo is standing in the corridor with a tray of Naboo delicacies arranged on a platter. "Commander, keep an eye on her. If she makes any attempt to escape, stun her. I will be in my chamber if you need to reach me."
"As you wish Lord Vader," Appo acknowledges, carrying the tray into her room.
Closing the door behind me, I stride out from between the two troopers and charge down the corridor for my chamber.
The door whooshed shut. Padmè watched the Clone trooper carry a tray of food over to her bedside table and place it down. She glanced at the tray and then to him as he stepped back. He was the same one she'd seen in the market the other morning, with the distinctive blue arrow marking on his white helmet. He folded his arms then rested against the wall.
"You're from the 501st aren't you?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes my lady."
Leaning forward she picked up a Shuura fruit from the plate and turned it around in her hands. "What's your name?"
"Commander Appo," he replied.
"Were you at the Jedi Temple burning?" she asked, taking a bite from the exotic fruit.
"Yes."
Padmè nervously glanced between the half eaten fruit and then to the trooper. She had to ask. Someone had to know what happened to her husband. "What happened to your General?"
His helmet spun to face her. Shifting his footing, the Commander seemed reluctant to answer the question. After a silent moment he turned to stare at the wall. "General Skywalker never made it out."
But he did. She knew he did. He came to see her that very same night, right before leaving for Mustafar. "How do you know that?" she asked.
He spun around and crossed his arms with a huff. "Enough. Save your questions for Lord Vader. Perhaps if you cooperate, you might live long enough for him to answer some of them."
"Live long enough?"
He nodded. "Yes. Prisoners don't tend to last very long around here. You want my advice? Give him whatever he wants and hope that he is in a forgiving mood. After all, he does seem to be unusually fond of you."
Padmè rolled her eyes and dumped the half-eaten fruit back on the plate. "I think I just lost my appetite," she groaned.
• • •
The Exactor lurched out of hyperspace and moved into orbit over Coruscant. The ever increasing fleet of newly commissioned Imperial I-class star destroyers loomed ominously around the busy city planet, while squadrons of TIE-fighters practiced routine drills between them.
A white Lambda-class shuttle flanked by two TIEs emerged from the Exactor's belly and hurtled toward the planet's hazy atmosphere. They crossed the chaotic sky lanes and slowed their approach as they neared the Imperial Palace hangar. The TIE-fighters hung back waiting for the shuttle to raise its tripodal wing-foils into landing position, following it inside once it finally touched down.
Bursts of pressurised steam sprayed into the air from the hydraulic pistons supporting the descending ramp. Commander Appo led his three officers from the shuttle and onto the platform. Padmè hesitantly exited shortly after with the Dark Lord following closely behind her. He ushered the former senator toward his awaiting troopers and proceeded to escort them all through the heavily reinforced blast doors and into the palace.
He stopped at a set of giant wooden doors, guarded by two red-robed royal guards. They stood rigid with their force pikes firmly planted on the marble floor. Vader turned to his troops. "Commander, have your men wait here. I will take the prisoner inside alone."
"As you wish my lord," Appo acknowledged.
Turning to Padmè, he tilted his mask down to look into her eyes and gently grasped her upper arm. "Come. He is expecting us," he rumbled, doing his best to keep his tone calm.
She nodded staring up into the tinted lenses of his mask, suddenly feeling oddly safe in his company. There was something about him that was so familiar – not his appearance, she'd never seen him before the massacre in Theed – but a feeling, deep within the pit of her stomach that insisted she stay close to him. Allowing him to walk her forward, she followed him into the sweeping throne room.
Dark grey stone pillars lined either side of them, towering over the walkway until their tops mingled with the cavernous ceiling overhead. The heavy thud of his armoured boots and unsteady rasp of his breathing echoed in the silence, drowning out the gentle pat of her footsteps.
He kept his stride short, like he was trying to make it easier for her to keep up, although she doubted that was actually the case. But if it was, that would only add to her sudden confusion. So far he'd been nothing but civil toward her, definitely not what she'd expected from a Sith. Even in captivity she'd been placed in a luxurious suite far from what anyone could describe as a prison cell.
He stopped, gently pulling her to a halt beside him. A sudden icy chill swept through her, radiating from all directions, chilling every bone in her body. Lifting her head she stared up at the steep staircase before them. At the top was a dark shadowy figure that slowly rose from his seat and slithered toward the head of the stairs.
"Ah, Lord Vader, you've returned ... and with company I see. How interesting."
His voice was smooth and sinister, purring with malice. She didn't need to see his face beneath the hood to know his identity. That voice she remembered all too well. Despite the ice worming its way through her veins, a sudden burst of fire ignited inside her. Before she could speak, a rumbling growl came from the armoured Dark Lord standing beside her.
"You lied to me," Vader hissed.
She was so caught up in watching the Emperor approach them that she failed to see the sudden shift in his body language. His gloved hand was twitching at his belt, dancing over the metallic hilt of his lightsaber. His feet were splayed, as if braced for battle. Even his breathing had sped up, the strange rasping and clicking coming in sudden short bursts.
"No, my friend. It would appear we were both lied to. You saw the reports yourself," the Emperor purred. He made his way down the stairs, his black robe dragging over each one as he descended. His hands hung limply at his waist, the long wiry fingers dangling like claws. Reaching the floor he turned his yellow eyes to Padmè, standing deathly silent beside his angered apprentice. "It's such a pleasure to see you alive, my dear. Your supposed death was indeed a terrible tragedy."
The former senator folded her arms and scowled. "What you did to Anakin, the Jedi and the Republic is the real tragedy. You've already taken everything from me, what more could you possibly want?"
Vader grasped the hilt of his saber in his glove and edged closer, preparing to protect her. He looked down into her shimmering eyes, seeing the tears starting to build. "Padmè, don't," he muttered.
She didn't hear him, her anguish from the last nine months had successfully built to boiling point and now faced with the one person who had single-handedly ruined her life, she was losing it. "Where is he? What have you done with Anakin?" she cried.
The Emperor stopped. He looked to Vader and back to her, steepling his hands together. "Ah ... I see. He hasn't told you yet has he?" he sneered, a twisted grin morphing onto his withered face. A vicious cackle left his lips as he slowly turned back to the stairs.
"Told me what?" she snapped glancing angrily between the two men. "What are you talking about?"
Vader turned to her, gently gripping both arms in his hands while his master continued to laugh, standing at the foot of the stairs behind him. Her questioning eyes stared up into his mask and he was certain they'd found his hidden behind the crimson lenses. "Padmè," he rumbled weakly, his vocoder crackling, "Angel it's ... it's me."
Her face dropped. She tried to pull away and free herself from his grasp, but he held on. "No ... I don't believe you," she cried, struggling in his grip. "Please, tell me it isn't true."
Dropping to one knee, his cape cascading onto the marble around him, Vader took her by the hands and gazed up into her tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, Padmè. I truly am."
Tears streamed down her face. She stared at the masked Lord kneeling before her in horror. "But how? Why are you dressed like that? All those people you murdered! Anakin ... tell me why?"
"Padmè, please." He released her hands feeling her rising panic. "Let me explain."
She shook her head violently, cautiously backing away. "I ... I don't know you anymore. I don't want to know you anymore," she wailed, brushing the moisture from her cheeks.
Vader slowly pushed his hulking body up from the floor sensing her desire to run. His master had stopped laughing now and he could feel his eyes boring into his back. He watched as she suddenly turned and bolted for the doors, her chestnut braid swinging in the air behind her. "No. Padmè wait!" he bellowed, moving to follow her. His boots thudding heavily on the marble as he ran to chase her down. She neared the doors, but he was gaining on her. He couldn't lose her like this, not again.
A blinding blue flash lit up the room and he suddenly crashed to the floor writhing in pain. The lightening sparked and sizzled over his suit, searing his flesh and shorting out his cybernetics. "PADMÈ!" he roared from the ground trying to get up.
She briefly glanced back to see him raising his hand off the floor toward her. She grabbed her neck instinctively, remembering how he'd choked her before and fled into the corridor.
The Emperor strode forward and called out to his men by the doors, watching his apprentice convulsing. "Guards, seize her and take her to Lord Vader's chamber. He will join her there when I'm finished with him," he hissed.
"Yes sir."
He slammed the doors shut with the force and stared down at his crippled apprentice by his feet. "You are pathetic," he hissed, standing over his armoured body and blasting him again with the lightening. The current engulfed the Dark Lord and he screamed in agony, twisting and thrashing from the scorching energy coursing through him. "She rejects you and you throw yourself at her feet, begging for forgiveness. You disgust me."
Vader didn't respond, he couldn't respond. The lightening had rendered him powerless, lying on the ground rasping for air. His leg shook violently as he tried to pull his knee up towards his chest.
"Get up, before I put you out of your misery," Sidious snarled, crossing his arms and scowling. He watched Vader struggle, trying in vain to push himself up. "You can't even get up can you? Your weakness sickens me. Perhaps I should've let you rot where Kenobi left you."
Arms and legs shaking, Vader slowly forced himself to his feet. His skin was on fire, singed from the lightening and his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Finally reaching his full height, he swayed in place staring at his master before him. "Yes ... master," he stammered.
Yellow eyes glowing, Sidious turned and made his way to the stairs. Stopping at the base, he whirled back to face his apprentice waving his withered finger at him. "You may keep your wife, but it comes with conditions."
"What ... conditions?"
"If I so much as suspect her presence weakening you, as it did just then, I will finish what you started nine months ago."
Vader dipped his head in submission fighting hard to stay conscious. "Yes, my master."
The Emperor continued. "There are others, but those I will tell you in time. For now, go to her, sort this all out and remember ..."
Lifting his mask, the Dark Lord waited for his master to finish.
"A Sith takes what belongs to them, Lord Vader."
"I understand, my master," Vader rumbled with a bow, still struggling to shake off the tremors. He turned and left the throne room, drawing on the dark side to stay upright.
His vision was blurring, drifting in and out of darkness with each step. He passed the royal guards and staggered to the nearest wall, moving to lean on it.
"Here my lord," Commander Appo stated, moving his shoulder armour beneath his arm and taking his weight. Another trooper moved in around his other side and they started to guide his failing body down the corridor.
"The medic, I ... I need the med..."
His words trailed off, and his legs suddenly gave out. The two troopers hoisted him up onto their shoulders and carried him to the med-bay. This wasn't the first time they'd needed to assist him to the theatre, but it was definitely the first time he'd actually passed out along the way.
They reached the theatre and two doctors were already poised and waiting with an assortment of med-droids standing by. The first doctor, a brunette wearing glasses saw them enter and ran over to assist. "We were expecting him. Quick get him onto the table, it sounds like his respirator has failed," she ordered moving to get her equipment.
The two troopers carried him to the bed and with the droids' assistance lifted his hulking body up onto it.
Grabbing the breathing mask the doctor prepped the machine and waited for the droids to remove his head gear. "Aleria, strip him down. The emperor has ordered another physical."
The young redhead doctor nodded and started to undo his suit. She painstakingly removed the pieces, laying them one by one over a nearby chair. When he was completely undressed, she pulled a white sheet up over his waist and watched her partner finish attaching the breathing mask. "Are we restraining him Celeste? They didn't really do much the last time," she asked.
"Yes, I know they won't stop him, but they will slow him down. I'm afraid these tests are particularly invasive, he's not going to be happy when he realizes what's going on."
The breathing mask stuttered before finding it's rhythm. Doctor Celeste hooked up the vital monitors and watched his scarred chest slowly rise and fall. "Well, he's breathing, that's a good start. Let's give him a minute before we begin so he can adjust," she said walking over to the bench and preparing the tests.
Padmè stood between the heavy black curtains, twirling the Japoor snippet within her fingers and staring out at the busy skyline. She couldn't shake the image of him trembling on the floor covered in blue lightening. The crackle and hiss it made as it tore through his body. The way he screamed in agony desperately trying to reach out for her.
It didn't matter how scared she was, or what atrocities she'd seen him commit, she still loved him. And when he cried out to her, helpless and in pain ... she ran. She stammered in a shaky breath and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
Nine long months she'd spent wondering, hoping that he was still alive. Praying that somewhere in the galaxy, hidden amongst the distant stars and planets, her Ani had survived and was waiting for her. But could she accept him as he was now? If that was even him behind the mask. The familiar feeling in his presence was undeniable, but without actually seeing him how could she be sure?
Hearing the door slide open, she spun around expecting to see him standing in the entrance.
"Ah ... Padmè my dear," the Emperor purred walking inside and closing the door behind him. "We need to have a little talk."
She folded her arms and turned back to the window. "I've nothing to say to you," she snapped.
He snickered, slithering across the living room towards her. "Oh but you do. I can feel your anger rolling off you. Ask your questions. Say what you want to say."
She whirled to face him, her face tight with anger. "What did you do to him?"
He stepped closer, his yellow eyes staring into hers. Placing his wrinkled hand upon her shoulder, he sighed. "Your anger toward me is understandable, however misplaced. Come, there's something you need to see."
What choice did she have? She was trapped. Shoving his hand off her shoulder, she stepped back and gestured to the doorway. "After you, Emperor," she retorted.