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Chapter 25 - Paradise Lost
Three days was the most Anakin could spare before departing for Naboo. Three days, which felt like three hours to the members of his household. Far too little time for any of their liking. But it was a small and necessary sacrifice to secure the galaxy's safety.
Anakin had taken full advantage of every waking moment, reveling in the twins' company and that of his wife and father. The atmosphere within the former Darth Vader's retreat was radically different than ever before. Never was it to return to the days of morose quietude. Gilded with the armor of unconditional love, the Skywalker family was intact, harmonious, and invincible. Three days went surprisingly far in healing years upon years of separation and misfortune.
On the morning of his departure, Anakin had reluctantly bid his children goodbye and plotted his voyage. He had a script prepared for when he saw Obi-Wan face to face. More than likely, he'd throw it out the window when the time came, but having it in the back of his mind was comforting.
Comforting too were the transmissions Padmé had shared with him the night before. They were backdated several weeks, having failed to transmit during his recovery. Video messages from the twins made him grin shamelessly. Their innocent, heartfelt sentiments of missing him brought tears to his clear blue eyes.
Not comforting, however, was the message Padmé had saved for last. It contained a distraught account of an uninvited guest who'd identified herself as Giri. Anakin stared at the photo Leia had taken of her – not because she was beautiful, but because her features struck a warning bell.
I could almost swear I've seen her before… I just can't place it…
He'd soothed Padmé's alarm as best he could, but the truth was, both of them would feel safer with Obi-Wan in their company.
Obi-Wan had to return with Anakin. Too many things rode on that outcome for it not to happen.
So that morning, Padmé kissed her husband passionately for good luck. Then she gasped in horror as he reached inside a duffel bag, withdrew his old suit, and stoically began to put it on.
"What on earth are you doing?!" she cried, feeling like her brain might have an aneurysm.
"Keeping up appearances," Anakin deadpanned. "I have to do this, or I don't stand a chance of taking Palpatine and Xizor by surprise."
She still felt sick to her stomach. "That's absolutely awful!"
"It's really not that bad. A little warm, but I can handle it. It feels a million times better than it did the past five years." He snapped the Mandalorian gloves into place over his wrists, flexing his fingers before reaching for the helmet. He tucked it under one arm and looked compassionately at his stricken wife.
"I thought you said you'd never have to wear it again!" insisted Padmé.
"Not for physical reasons, but for political ones, unfortunately," Anakin clarified. "No one can know anything's changed. I need them to think I'm exactly the same, both inside and out."
"But you're not," her voice wavered, as if suddenly uncertain.
"No," he reassured. "And that's true no matter how long I wear the suit. It can't possess me and turn me back to the dark side. It's just fabric and disconnected electronics, Padmé."
Anakin's smile was empathetic and genuine, but it looked unnatural above his broad shoulder armor. It was a good thing they'd already exchanged their goodbye kiss; there was no way Padmé would accept one now.
His luggage was relatively light. His course was laid in. And his family was prepared to wait and pray ceaselessly until he returned.
And in a distant system, his old mentor unknowingly awaited an epic reunion.
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Xizor had been busy. Perhaps busier than he'd ever been. And after running the Black Sun for almost ten years, that was saying something.
He had Vader to thank for the lack of dull moments. The past seven weeks had been delightfully hectic and overloaded. What he'd extracted was well worth the long nights and near-intravenous dependence on caffeine.
Searching the holonet archives confirmed everything he already knew: Senator Padmé Amidala and Jedi Anakin Skywalker were known to fraternize heavily during the Clone Wars. A minority of writers speculated that their relationship wasn't just platonic, which led to more salacious gossip when the senator's wardrobe stopped being form-fitting. Most of the media, however, kept a professional distance from the topic, respecting Amidala's reputation as well as her Jedi companion's.
All the respect in the galaxy couldn't save her from dying, however. The funeral footage was quite somber. Except it wasn't real. Which begged the question: why would the good senator, pregnant, fake her own death and abscond with the children? The answer: because it wasn't mere chance that Anakin Skywalker's disappearance coincided with Darth Vader's emergence, which coincided with Padmé Amidala's untimely demise.
The pieces couldn't fit together more perfectly. Xizor had everything he needed.
Or so he thought before the purchase order reports appeared on his desk.
Orders for specialty medical supplies shipped to the surgery center he owned on Rakata Prime, signed by an unknown customer. Stranger still, a sizeable order of cortosis ore sent to the Emperor Palpatine Surgical Reconstruction Center. All of which was purchased from his companies within one week of each other.
The same week Vader had conveniently started freelance Jedi hunting.
Neither Xizor nor Palpatine had heard from the black-clad Sith in two months. Again, likely not a coincidence. Xizor was quickly learning those didn't exist when it came to Vader.
Xizor was no fool. If anyone had need of specialized medical equipment, it would be Vader. And never would he be in need of them more than now, after being reunited with the family he'd presumed dead. Talk about the perfect impetus to follow through on old resolutions – like total body reconstruction, for instance. That was just one example.
An example Xizor was willing to bet all his chips on.
He had no definitive proof yet, but the circumstantial evidence was enough. Guri's surveillance of Vader's retreat brought news that the dark lord's shuttle arrived and then left again just three days later.
And while the Sith was away, his nemesis would surely come out to play.
The time to strike was now. Xizor decided the family Vader left behind wouldn't be there when he returned.
Killing them wasn't on the agenda – not yet, anyway. Far too much fun could be had before that point. Holding them hostage and manipulating Vader might just be the best entertainment the Prince would ever have.
Vader's security perimeter wasn't quite as impenetrable as he'd have everyone believe. It took Guri a matter of hours to analyze its structure – and weaknesses. As she'd already proven, its biggest vulnerability was the seashore. A few choice favors called in here and there, and Xizor had a platoon of shadow troopers at his disposal. Xizor's rate of pay was ten times Imperial wages. For that number of credits, they'd willingly risk step into the viper's lair.
The rest was relatively easy. Cutting fiber-optic lines, neutralizing the shield barrier in places, and then seizing the mansion like it was child's play. It all went down before Xizor's stomach grumbled for dinner that evening.
Amazing… even Darth Vader can be outwitted when one is sufficiently motivated, the prince gloated to himself, watching through binoculars as the hapless family members trudged through the sand, bound and gagged. Shadow troopers led them toward a submarine portal a few hundred yards out.
Fifteen minutes later, he paced on damp planks of a hidden maritime dock beneath his restaurant, green skin tingling when he saw the vessel breach the surface. He'd have traded half his wealth and power for this thrill of having Vader's closest relatives in his possession.
Seeing them in person at last, there was no denying they were indeed his relatives. The older man bore the same striking features as Anakin Skywalker, and the young boy would someday grow into them as well.
But it wasn't the males who caught and held his attention. It was Vader's wife. The photograph Xizor had seen hardly did her justice. No wonder Vader had been consumed by vitriol all these years, if this was the creature he thought he'd lost forever. Xizor could well imagine going half mad over such a loss.
"Welcome, Skywalkers," he purred, gesturing for the troopers to disperse for a time. "I am Prince Xizor of Falleen. You are to be distinguished guests at my palace."
"I know who you are, Xizor," Padmé boldly spoke. "What have we done to deserve this 'honor?'"
Xizor smiled lecherously. "In your case, simply being Darth Vader's beloved. And the rest of you, his flesh and blood."
A rock crashed to the pit of Padmé's stomach. Time to think fast.
"What are you talking about? We're no relation to him!"
"Please, beautiful lady, don't patronize me. I know everything! You are the former Senator Amidala of Naboo. And these are your children with Vader. Standing behind you, looking rather constipated, is Vader's father. Correct me if I'm wrong – wait, don't bother. I know I'm not!" His teeth gleamed triumphantly in the dim light.
Padmé's blood ran cold. Why, oh why couldn't Anakin have heeded her warning about Xizor? Not that it would have changed his plans… they'd still need Obi-Wan to get them out of this mess.
Xizor sauntered closer to her. "I don't blame you for denying involvement with Vader. He's hardly the man you fell in love with. You deserve someone far less hideous… someone refined, who doesn't debaucher his wealth and power. Someone with finer tastes," his tongue almost flicked out like a snake. It made her skin crawl like a million ants covered it. "Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other."
Worry? Why would I worry? There's nothing terrifying about this turn of events… nothing at all…
"Now, if you'd be so kind as to follow me, I'll show you all your new accommodations," the prince invited with exaggerated hospitality.
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A well-disguised spring in Xizor's step carried him through the palace district that evening. After securing his "guests" in the uppermost level of his palace, he was off to meet with Palpatine. He still hadn't decided how much, if any, information he'd disclose to the Emperor. Revealing only pieces of the truth might snowball into more if he wasn't careful. To tell Palpatine that Vader's family was alive would invite a flurry of questions he didn't want to necessarily answer – especially questions concerning that family's present whereabouts.
That was the ace up Xizor's sleeve. And he needed to hold his cards close to his chest to make this all unfold in his favor.
Oh, the fun he could have with this… the possibilities were practically endless. Extortion had always been his preferred method of manipulation.
Good thing he was well-practiced in it, because the time to execute it was suddenly at hand.
Barreling around the corner, almost crashing full force into Xizor, was Darth Vader himself.
They shuffled a few awkward steps to regain their balance, and then the animosity set in, frigid as ever.
"Out of my way!" snapped Vader, adjusting his belt.
"In quite a hurry, I see! What's the rush?"
"None of your business!" Beneath the helmet, Anakin was fuming. As if the day hadn't been awful enough! Discovering a fuel line leak on his way out of Imperial City, searching for a replacement part nobody seemed to have in stock, and now this. Was the entire universe conspiring against him?
Based on what Xizor said next, apparently it was.
"You'd be surprised how much of your business is now my business, Vader," the green-skinned prince crossed his arms smugly. "When was the last time you spoke with your family?"
Not.
Good.
Anakin's heart plummeted straight to the bottom of his boots.
He knows…
Nothing like high-pressure stakes to test his acting skills. Thank the Force his horrified expression was obscured.
"You're a fool. I have no family, Xizor." Anakin was grateful, too, for the voice box. It gave his faltering voice power.
"Really? Then I have four people in my palace all suffering from the delusion that they're related to you. How very odd!"
If not for the suit's support, Anakin would have fallen to his knees.
This can't be happening. He's bluffing… he has to be.
But how would he know there are four of them… unless he'd already been spying on the retreat? Oh, Sith… he's smart enough to do some digging and piece it all together. And the minute I leave, he makes his move. What a coward! What scum! I should end him here and now!
No… Darth Vader would choose that. The easy way out. It would be just as cowardly. Remember who you're doing this for, Anakin. They need you to stay strong now more than ever.
"What do you want?" he surrendered.
Xizor laughed. "Oh, many things. I am a man of varied tastes, Vader. But I assume, in this context, you're asking what I want in exchange for their lives?"
Resist the urge to tear his mocking vocal cords out of his throat right now, Anakin insisted to himself. He nodded without a word.
"Yes, well I'd hoped to have more time to refine the details, but here you are now! It would be rude to keep you waiting. So let's see," Xizor rubbed his chin, enjoying this far too much. Vader was a pitiful mouse squirming beneath his thumb. "I've had my eye on some cortosis ore deposits on Tatooine. A planet you know quite well, no?"
Anakin's stomach churned. He's done his homework all right. "You could say that."
"Then you're also familiar with a moisture farm belonging to the Lars family."
"I am."
"Then you know right where to go!" Xizor rubbed his hands greedily. "I've been working on a deal with Jabba the Hutt for some time now, but he says his agents have gotten nowhere. Owen Lars is quite the stubborn man! I was thinking he might be less obstinate with you leading negotiations."
"I see."
Anakin processed Xizor's request. All he had to do was convince Owen to sell the farm to Jabba. How hard could it be, as long as he explained Padmé and the twins' lives were at stake? Owen might be stubborn, but he wasn't coldhearted. He'd sell in a heartbeat for their sake.
"Consider it done," he consented. "So when the contract is signed, you'll release them?"
"Them? You mean your father, wife, and children?" goaded Xizor. "Come Vader, you've always been one for precise communication! Don't be so vague."
Anakin curled both fists. If anyone could tempt him to fall back to the Dark Side, Xizor was surely the frontrunner. Every line that came from his condescending lips was designed to rile and provoke him. And to what end? To spark a fatal confrontation? Xizor had to know he wouldn't survive it. Was he suicidal? Or was he secure in knowing that Palpatine would punish Vader for destroying his pet?
Speaking of Palpatine…
"There's something I don't understand, Xizor. Why haven't you told the Emperor and gotten what you've always wanted – me dead?" Anakin inquired.
"I'll refrain from telling Palpatine if you fulfill this mission," bargained Xizor. "You'll have paid the ransom for your family and proven your loyalty to the Empire – something you'd better do if you know what's good for you."
That sounded odd. "Excuse me?"
Xizor leaned in, eyes cold as steel. "Did you really think you could order such conspicuous amounts of supplies from my companies without me noticing? Please, Vader. I know you haven't been off hunting Jedi the past two months! And I'd wager you look a lot different underneath that suit than you used to!"
That was it. The final blow. There was nothing Xizor didn't know. He held all of Anakin's vulnerabilities in the palm of his green hands, ready to crush at whim. It didn't really matter how the Prince had learned all that he had. He possessed Vader's most intimate secrets, and that made him a thousand times more dangerous than he'd ever been before.
If Anakin made the slightest misstep, took the smallest risk or underestimated his foe for one second… he'd lose everything. This time permanently. There'd be no second chances or coming-back-from-the-dead miracles with Xizor holding the trigger.
"Is this all to avenge Falleen?" Anakin asked quietly.
"I wouldn't go to such great lengths for any other cause. I've been waiting to gain the upper hand since before I built my palace next to yours, Vader. Justice will be mine!"
"And when you have it, this feud between us will end?"
"Well, I think that would disappoint Palpatine. He enjoys our banter," a bemused Xizor replied. "But if I'm honest, it is growing a little weary. I think it's time to let a new chapter begin." A chapter where you're out the picture once and for all. Our feud would be over then, wouldn't it Vader?
"Then let it begin," Anakin said with flat resignation.
"Excellent! You know what to do," Xizor stepped aside to let Vader pass. "I trust I'll be hearing from you very soon."
"I'll head to Tatooine as soon as my shuttle is repaired."
Sinister victory shone in Xizor's eyes as he watched Vader walk defeated down the sidewalk.
"Oh, where is my head? I forgot to mention one thing," Xizor feigned thoughtlessness. "If for some reason your relatives aren't as cooperative as you expect, you will eliminate them. But look who I'm telling! Darth Vader doesn't need to be reminded to get the job done in any way necessary, does he?"
Anakin tried to keep his stride steady, but the urge to reach back and silence the Prince forever was almost overpowering. How does he always know how to get inside my head? Curse him!
"No reminder is needed," he breathed. "Now leave me to my business! You'll get what you want, Prince."
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Aaand it finally happened. Apologies to those who didn't want it to... it makes for more drama and suspense. I had to do it. :X
Stay tuned, there's plenty more where that came from!
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