Chapter Twenty-Five
"You could have been killed," Vader said with deadly calm.
Padme could feel it. The anger and rage seemed to roll off him like waves in an ocean. She stepped back against the wall, just on the threshold of the balcony, pressing her hand against the stone. A flash of that horrible last moment on Mustafar rolled through her mind. But she planted her feet, grimacing at her husband.
"It got them out. And I'm fine. Everything went as planned."
"Padme, you cannot do this. Rush, headlong and reckless into situations," he growled.
"It's what you used to do. What you still do."
"I am more powerful than you!" he shouted, stomping forward a step.
She jumped, visibly recoiling. She instantly regretted the motion as she felt the shift in his emotions. She could feel the shock at her reaction, followed by more rage, before, finally, he seemed to reign it in.
"Padme. Are you… afraid of me?"
"No. Not as you were. But this, now? This Darth Vader who would slaughter innocent citizens trying to defend their beliefs against an insurmountable enemy? I… I don't know."
She looked back toward the inside of the temple, unwilling to feel his veiled stare upon her. He took another step toward her and gently gripped her arms. She glanced up at him.
"Please. Don't be afraid. I would never hurt—"
Neither spoke, letting the truth hang. He gave her arms a squeeze, one meant to be reassuring.
"Not. Again. Never again," he vowed.
"Ani," she murmured, reaching up toward his face.
A roar of angry voices from the courtyard beneath them brought her hand to a pause. Immediately afterward, a small beep announcing an open radio line sounded from Vader's helmet.
"Lord Vader, people have returned. It seems they are even angrier, and have acquired a handful of new weapons," an officer's voice said.
Both Vader and Padme moved to the edge of the balcony. One glance below confirmed it. The courtyard was full of people—some with white powder in their hair and on their clothes—and they seemed even more riled up than before. Padme sighed, shaking her head.
Vader glanced over at her.
"We do things my way now," he stated. He hit a button on his belt, and the radio beeped again. "Officer, seal the courtyard and prepare the stormtroopers. I am going to eliminate this problem once and for all."
A quick "yes, sir" was the response, and Vader whirled and began to stalk down the stairs back to the main atrium of the temple. Padme followed closely.
"You can't! You're going to kill them! Please, please don't do this!" she begged. "There has to be another way."
"These people had their chance," he growled as they touched down in on the main floor.
Vader stalked right up to the waiting line of stormtroopers, who parted their assembled ranks to let the Sith Lord through before reforming. Vader signaled an officer to open the temple's secured doors, and Padme felt her stomach fill with stone. When Vader, followed by the line of white-and-black armored troopers marched out, Padme followed quickly behind. It was briefly surprising to her how none of the officers stopped her, or even attempted to. Perhaps they thought she needed this to bolster Vader's reputation in her upcoming article—like she was going to put a good spin on senseless death.
The doors to the temple slammed shut behind her, and the roaring of the gathered crowd was deafening to the point where it almost physically threatened to shove her back up against the doors. She fought it down, moving to the side of the assembled line, her eyes darting back and forth from the crowd to Vader. She recognized several obscenities in several different languages being shouted, as well as some Basic shouting of "leave this place!" A volley of rocks suddenly flew through the air from several different origin points, but they all appeared to have the same target: Vader.
He lifted his hand, almost casually, and the rocks simply fell straight down upon the steps. They never even came close to touching him. The crowd roared again, and Padme saw, in the distance, the gate at the entrance of the courtyard slam shut. Vader ignited his crimson lightsaber, and only then did a moment of silence fell.
It was followed immediately by horrified screaming.
"Don't do this!" Padme screeched, her voice drowned out by the sheer vocal terror around her. "Please!"
Vader descended the few steps to the bottom and swept through a group of citizens there with his saber as easily as though he might be trimming a hedge. Padme pressed her fingers to her lips, her stomaching rolling. The entirety of the protestors realized their mistake too late as they all turned to flee. The stormtroopers followed after the Sith Lord, firing into the crowd. Padme fought to keep her food down as she watched innocent after innocent fall. Desperate, she went down the first step, casting her gaze about the courtyard. There was a massive group clogged up against the sealed gates, banging fist or weapon or implement against it in their attempt to escape the grim specter of death. There had to be another way out of this courtyard. The Jedi were never ones to have only one choice as a course of action. The Jedi were planners. Padme tried her best to ignore the screams of the people as she searched for a way to free them.
Finally, she saw it. In the upper, right-hand wall of the courtyard—tucked away in the corner—was a door. It was plain, appeared to be made of simple wood—completely old-fashioned. The gates had been sealed from the inside of the temple. There was a chance that this old door wasn't on a powered system at all. Lifting her skirt, she fought her way into the crowd, aiming toward that corner.
In a way, moving through the crowd was easy, as everyone was trying to move to the back, to get away from Vader—who was still busy mowing down citizens. However, it took some elbowing to break through the last barrier of people. A little bubble of emptiness was left right in front of the door, and she stumbled out from the mass of people right into it. She ran to the door and hoped that it was open. She pushed. It gave a little, but it was stubborn, probably from disuse. She backed up as much as she could without running bodily into another person and ran with all her might into the door. It flew open, and Padme almost fell to the floor on the other side. It was dark, with no electric light on the inside, and it appeared to be some sort of storage closet. It took a couple of minutes before her eyes adjusted to the dim mix of sunlight and shadow. But when it did, she was almost overwhelmed with relief. Another wooden door, on the left interior of the room, stood. She rushed to it, yanking it open with all she had in her. It swung wide, and Padme beamed to see that it led right into the city. She lost no more time.
She ran back into the crowded courtyard and physically grabbed the first person she reached. It was a young man, maybe only in his twenties, and he almost took a swing at her. Instead, she whirled him about, pointing at the open door.
"Go!" she ordered.
He sobbed a "thank you" at her and was gone. Padme began to spread the word, ordering those she told to pass this alternate exit along before they used it. Before long, there was a steady stream of people breaking away from the crowd at the gates. She waved them all through, pushing some who let panic overtake them. One middle-aged man managed to get caught in the doorway with a young woman, and Padme shoved herself into their backs to move them through. They stumbled into the storage room beyond, and the line continued to move.
Suddenly, a hand—cool and ungloved—seized her by the wrist. She was whirled about, face-to-face with a masked man she had never seen before. A faint pricking sensation was felt on the crook of the elbow of the seized arm.
"Compliments of the Emperor, Senator," he said.
Then he released her and was through the wooden door. There was a moment, the briefest one, where sheer panic washed over her. The Emperor knew. He knew. He would use this against Anakin, she was sure. She had to—
Suddenly, it felt as if her entire system of blood vessels constricted. She gasped, falling to her knees. She searched her arm, her eyes blurring. It was there, faint, but there was most certainly a little mark on the crook of her elbow. The sight of a needle's injection. "Compliments of the Emperor." She understood completely.
"Anakin," she screeched at the top of her lungs. She didn't care who heard her use her husband's real name. Not so long as he heard her. "Anakin! Anakin, please!"
She gasped again, feeling as though one half of her body was being closed off to the other half. Her sight blurred again, almost to the point of blackness, and she fell forward to catch herself with her hands.
A strong hand grabbed her, and she recognized the feel of the leather. There was a series of thuds as it sounded as though bodies were hitting the walls, and then she was being lifted and moved. When her sight cleared again, briefly, she saw that she was laying in the storage room, and Vader was kneeling over her.
She had done this. When she had broken the rules, however she had done so, she had brought this upon herself. She had cut her time short. A lifetime wasn't meant for her and Anakin. She understood this now as the poison Palpatine's assassin injected her with coursed through her veins.
"No," Vader breathed. "I can't lose you again. Padme, please. Hang on. Not again!"
Her veins felt constricted once more, and it took longer this time for them to seemingly relax. She reached a hand upward and rested it on Vader's mask, on the approximation of where his lips would be.
"Not again," Vader said, and it sounded as though he was sobbing. "Who did this, Padme? Who did this?"
"Too late. I love you, Anakin," she whispered as her body began to be wracked by pain. "I love you. Please, never doubt that. I love you, and don't give up hope. There is always hope."
"Padme," he roared, but it sounded distant.
Her body seized up and pain ran the length of it. Her vision blurred once more, and this time, it didn't return.