A/N: I hope you all are healthy, safe, and not going crazy during the quarantine! My thoughts are with you guys.
Oh, and just a heads up: there's a somewhat graphic depiction of injury towards the end of this chapter.
I hope you enjoy this mega-chapter (the longest one yet!); may the Force be with you all, and stay safe!
This, Padme thought, not for the first time that morning, is an awful plan.
She craned her neck, unable to tear her eyes away from the dark tower looming in the distance: Vader's castle.
An awful, horrible plan, she amended. Padme shivered, and hugged her cloak closer to her body.
But what were the alternatives?
There were none.
That thought plagued her as she approached the Sith Lord's home.
Subblock after subblock, she trudged through the frigid morning, her surroundings blurring into a gray haze as her mind drifted.
I'm just going to walk into Darth Vader's palace… the private fortress of my husband, Darth Vader, a Sith Lord….
Padme knew she shouldn't be so inattentive to her surroudnings. Dimly, she was aware of the stormtrooper patrols passing by. But her cloaking device was still in place, and so far it had kept her as unseen and safe as…
Well, as a ghost.
Or a dead woman.
She just prayed the cloaking device had a long battery life.
With that thought in mind, Padme quickened her pace. The last thing she wanted to do was suddenly become visible to the stormtroopers swarming the area, especially with the Imperial curfew in place; she'd be shot on sight or even-
Wait. She blinked. Rubbed a hand across her tired eyes. No- this was definitely happening.
Great. Just great. How in all the kriffing hells did I lose sight of a castle? she huffed. It's the second tallest building on Coruscant, for gods' sakes!
She fought the urge to tear out her hair.
All but shuddering in the chill air, Padme blew on her fingertips, noting with dismay that she was losing feeling in them.
Think. Think.
You have until midnight. You can find Vader's castle by then.
Slowly, she turned in a circle, meticulously scanning the Coruscanti skyline. Her heart hammered.
Lost a castle; I'm the galaxy's biggest idiot, it's official-
Her frustration mounting, on the verge of infuriated tears, she completed the turn, and found herself facing her initial direction again.
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her.
"There it is," she whispered. She had to look almost straight up to see it, but the skyscraping palace was unquestionably present. Her view of the castle's narrow tower had been blocked by its wide, circular base.
For a moment, pressed her face into her hands. She shut her brown eyes. And breathed… slowly… deeply. This was no time for hysterics, and frankly, she felt like she was starting to lose her grip. She needed to collect herself if she wanted to navigate the imminent encounter with Vader.
It's just Anakin, she told herself, a lump forming in her throat. Just Anakin.
Shivering in the wind, she pulled out the passkey he'd given her.
Now all I have to do is find the entrance.
Her legs were cramping. She winced as another spasm rocked her calves. Padme had been crouching in the shadows for roughly two hours. She was starting to think the castle entrance's guard would never change.
As if the universe had finally acknowledged her mental pleas, the pair of stormtroopers made an abrupt about-face. Swiftly and silently, Padme stood up. At least, she tried to. The pins-and-needles sensation in her legs made all her motions rather graceless. It was a miracle she didn't keel over.
As the two stormtroopers left their post and marched alongside the palace walls, Padme made a mad dash for the door. If the new guards arrived at the entrance before she did, there wasn't a chance she would make it inside. Not for another two hours, at least.
She kept Vader's passkey in hand- her cloaking device made both herself, and the item she held, invisible.
Padme skidded to a halt at the tall, dark entrance.
Blast!
The old guards weren't out of sight yet. But the new guards could arrive at any moment. Did she risk opening the door now?
She bit the inside of her cheek, knowing that this was no time for indecision.
This is only a side entrance, she assured herself. It's not like I'm trying to open the main gates without being noticed.
She shuddered at the thought- the towering, fortress-like central gate had been guarded by a full twenty stormtroopers, not to mention the four troop patrols roaming the surrounding subblock.
It's now or never, she urged herself. The old guards were leaving; the new guards hadn't arrived; and the roaming stormtrooper patrols wouldn't pass by this spot for another three minutes.
With a surge of adrenaline, Padme swiped Vader's passkey across the lock, rushing blindly inside as the black door split open in the center. She wasn't two steps inside before the door sealed itself behind her with a hiss.
Padme forced herself to stop and take in her surroundings. Running helter-skelter through one of the most secure buildings on Coruscant wasn't a good plan.
She had arrived in a dim, narrow corridor, so long that she couldn't see the end of it. The walls were black durasteel, slanting inwards near the ceiling, and punctuated every few meters by a slim door- several of which were passkey-protected. The floor was made from some duller form of durasteel, cut into large gray slabs.
Padme squinted, eyes adjusting to the dim light. The only source of illumination came from scant golden glowpanels near her ankles. Now she could see that at the end of the corridor, there was a gleaming silver turbolift; in the corners just above it were-
She sucked in a breath. Near the ceiling, in the corners just above the turbolift, were two security holocams. Padme cautiously turned around. Behind her, just above the door she'd entered through, were another two holocams.
Thank the gods she'd had the sense to leave her cloaking device on.
A muffled voice sounded outside the door she'd entered through; Padme jumped out of her skin.
"-sure it's just a power flux?"
"Positive. Besides, I'm not going in there uninvited to investigate."
Padme tensed- even through the thick castle wall, she recognized those filtered voices: stormtroopers. No doubt these were the new guards, standing watch at the side entrance.
"But what if-"
"Look, first of all, we didn't see anyone go in. Second of all, this door was barely open for two seconds, and there's no way anyone could get inside that fast. Only Lord Vader's passkey could get you in without going through all the identity scans and redundancies."
"Some rebel could've stolen the key."
"So you're saying that 'some rebel' just walked up and pickpocketed Lord Vader? I'm telling you, there was a power flux and the door opened for a second. That's it."
Padme thought she heard the other trooper sigh.
"Fine. But if some rebel did get in, you'll be the one explaining it to Lord Vader. And you have to be the one to tell maintenance about that power flux."
"Copy that."
A wry smile touched her lips as she stepped back.
No rebel could've gotten in here, huh?
Confident that no stormtroopers would be dropping in on her, she turned around, softly padding toward the turbolift. Padme was about to summon the lift- but again, she hesitated.
What if someone was monitoring the holocams in this corridor? And what if they saw turbolift opening "on its own?" A droid might dismiss the odd activity, but could a sentient being dismiss it as a second power flux? Padme doubted it.
She bit her lip, staring up at the holocams. And then something clicked.
Back when she'd been Naboo's senator, she'd been given the privilege of living in the penthouse suite of the 500 Republica-
Of course, she'd only been allowed to live there because she was representing Naboo... and the landlords wanted to curry favor with the Nubian Chancellor Palpatine. Once Padme had become too ill to serve as senator, she'd promptly been evicted….
Padme mentally shook herself.
No need to dwell on that.
Right now, she needed to recall the holocams she'd installed in her old apartment. She'd been uncomfortable knowing the 500 Republica's security guards could see into every room in her apartment- even her bedroom and closet- through the official security holocams. So with the hard-won approval of her Nubian security force, she'd modified the holocams to link to a private security feed: one that wasn't monitored by a sentient being, but instead programmed to alert her (or her security team) whenever someone was detected entering the apartment.
Padme took a close, careful look at the holocams above the turbolift in Vader's castle. A sad smile traced her lips.
You've been thinking of me, haven't you, sweetheart?
Sure enough, these holocams were visibly modified exactly the same way hers had been.
Which means…
She was willing to take a gamble and say that Anakin- or a droid of his- was the only one monitoring his private fortress here. And if she was willing to take a risk, she'd bet that if Vader saw things in his castle suddenly moving "on their own," he'd attribute it to a certain ghost's presence.
Padme took a deep breath, then summoned the turbolift. Really, she didn't have any other options, aside from standing in the hall until Anakin arrived at midnight- which was hardly practical.
The lift arrived with a soft chime, and she stepped inside.
Sabine paced through the small, white-walled cell. Ten paces to the right. Then ten paces to the back of the cell, until she hit the durasteel bench- the room's one commodity. Another ten paces to the right, then ten paces to the front of the cell, until she was cut off by the locked door.
Turn around. Change directions.
Rinse and repeat.
The young woman raked her fingers through her hair, tightening her grip until sharp pains raced through her scalp. It was almost enough to drown out her panicked thoughts.
Where's Hera? Where's Ezra? Where are Kanan, Zeb, and Chopper?
What about Obi-Wan? Zeb thought he was heading towards us, but…
And- oh, shavit- what's Vader done with Padme?
Focus, she chided herself. Focus.
She'd been in this maddening, tiny cell for roughly three hours- and she wished the Imperials would just get this interrogation over with. Before she went insane thinking about her crew, and what awful tortures might be inflicted on them.
Regardless… she wasn't going to tell the Imperials anything. She'd decided that a long time ago. She'd bite her tongue off first.
The air behind her hissed. Sabine snapped around- and Darth Vader was in the doorway of her cell. The blood drained from her face.
With one long stride, Vader entered the chamber. The door sealed behind him.
Vader towered over her- she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. Sabine swallowed tightly as his skeletal mask leered at her.
"Sabine Wren," he rumbled. The Sith Lord's low tones echoed through the harshly lit cell.
Sabine forced the tension out of her muscles. "Darth Vader," she answered as confidently as she could. To her pride, her voice didn't shake.
Darth Vader did not react.
"The two Jedi proved most resistant to standard interrogation methods," Vader began. "Perhaps your pain will convince them to cooperate."
For the first time, Sabine noticed the interrogation droid hovering behind him- and the many needles sticking out from the torture device.
She sharply pinched the inside of her elbow, forcing her thoughts away from Vader's weapon. But her mind just wouldn't shut up.
He tortured Ezra. He tortured Kanan.
I have to get them out of here.
Vader's gloved hand slammed atop her shoulder, forcing her down onto the bench in the back of the room.
And a plan flashed into Sabine's mind, a panicked, adrenaline-fueled plan. A very stupid plan. One that would throw Obi-Wan under the bus.
But it would get the rest of them out of prison.
And if Obi-Wan were here now, Sabine knew he'd tell her to do anything to save herself and her friends.
The black interrogation droid floated toward Sabine, snapping her back to reality.
"You know," Sabine began, heart pounding, "this is hardly any way to treat your allies."
Vader held up a hand. The interrogation droid hovered in place, still just inches away from Sabine.
"You imply that you are willing to cooperate," Vader rumbled. He took a step forward, his cape swirling around him with the motion.
"I'm saying I already have," Sabine snapped- yes, snapped- at the Dark Lord.
Silently, she prayed that Vader couldn't read her thoughts word-for-word. Because Sabine wasn't lying through her teeth, just… selectively revealing the truth. And that might be just enough to fool Vader and his Sith powers.
"You are stalling," Vader growled, a hand coming to rest on his lightsaber. "And today I have no time for games."
"I'm sorry," Sabine replied, sarcasm dripping off each word. "I gift-wrapped Padme Amidala for you and-"
Vader's hand shot out; it was wrapped around her throat before she could cry out. Slowly, painstakingly, the Sith Lord lifted her into the air. Sabine clawed at his hand- it didn't help her. But she could feel Vader trembling.
"Padme is dead." Vader's voice shook. "She is dead!" He shouted, his hand tightening around Sabine's throat.
"I… kn-know about," Sabine gasped out, "your… e-experiments…."
Vader released her. She crumpled to the ground, coughing and sputtering.
"Speak quickly," Vader ordered.
"You've… tried to bring… her back to life," Sabine rasped, rubbing her throat. "Whatever you did this time… worked. I found her wandering around in her funeral dress and brought her to you."
"You were not there when she appeared to me." Vader rumbled. But a trace of uncertainty had entered the Dark Lord's tone.
"Too many stormtroopers for me to stick around," Sabine truthfully replied. "I would have been shot on sight."
"You should have handed her over to me directly." Vader accused. He turned, pacing through the cell, fists clenched at his side. "Not left her stranded in some alleyway where Kenobi could have taken her from me!"
"You were in the Imperial Palace this morning. The Empire's placed a bounty on my head. I couldn't just walk in there and ask to see you," Sabine answered, trying to keep her story straight as Vader kept up the rapid-fire questioning.
"You knew," Vader whirled around, pointing his gloved hand at her. "You knew Kenobi would be there! You planted the bombs, you helped him try to kill me. You used Padme to lure me there!"
"That doesn't make any sense," Sabine insisted. She knew she was pushing her luck with her attitude, but her sarcasm- and Vader's raging emotions- were distracting the Dark Lord. She wasn't about to give up that advantage. "You didn't even know Padme was going to be there. I didn't use her to lure you anywhere."
Vader growled something in frustration- perhaps a curse, but it was too low for her to hear.
"Then explain why you were on Coruscant in the first place," Vader continued, "if you were not part of the rebel strike that occured today."
"I'd planned a robbery," Sabine answered promptly. It wasn't a total lie- she'd broken into the Good Omens casino last night. "I only cooperated with the strike so Kenobi would help me sneak onto Coruscant."
"And what of last night? I saw you and your rebel crew sabotaging the AT-ATs in the weapons factory."
"And I did as little damage as possible," Sabine swiftly answered. She tried to ignore the sweat beading on the back of her neck. "Half the bombs I planted were decoys. Those were easily found and removed by your troops, weren't they? And in the end you only lost six AT-ATs out of hundreds."
Again, Sabine wasn't lying- not really. She'd planted both decoy charges and more subtle explosives. She'd done her best to sabotage the machines, but her work had been cut shut by Vader's arrival.
"You were found on a rooftop with a sniper rifle aimed at my location." Vader pressed. But he seemed… almost a little calmer. Almost.
"I didn't take the shot, did I?" Sabine replied.
Not that I didn't try my kriffing hardest. She quickly suppressed that thought.
Vader silently stared at her, perhaps evaluating her story.
Sabine pressed the advantage. "I'm tired of being a rebel. I've been looking to get out for a while now, but I can't erase my criminal record. You can do that." She lifted her brown eyes, pleading with him. She knew that wouldn't do any good, but she felt expected to beg for mercy. "I knew Obi-Wan would lure you down that alley. The bombs weren't supposed to kill you, just slow you down so I could shoot you." Sabine took a deep breath. Vader hadn't interrupted her; that was a good sign.
"Before I got into position," Sabine continued, "I ran into Padme, and recognized her. I told her I was a member of the Rebel Alliance, and that she could trust me to hide her from the Sith." Sabine took a deep breath, thinking through her concocted story before she spoke. "Before I went to the rooftop with my sniper rifle, I brought Padme to the alley. I showed her a place to hide, and told her to stay there while I got us a transport off-world.
"I knew Obi-Wan would be too busy running from you, to notice Padme there. But you would find her." Sabine slowly pushed herself off the floor, coming to a seat on the bench. "Like I said, I practically gift-wrapped her for you. I could have killed you instead, and sold Padme to someone like the Hutts, but I didn't. And I'd like something in return."
Vader was silent for a moment. "You wish for me to erase your criminal record." The Dark Lord slowly said.
"And the rest of my crew, too," Sabine pressed. "Hera Syndulla, Zeb Orellios, Kana-"
"I do not pardon Jedi." Vader cut her off.
"You owe me a favor," Sabine boldly replied. She stood, drawing herself up to her full height. "And I want you to pardon myself and my four crew members. Including the two Jedi."
Vader stared at her. For a seemingly endless time, the only sound was the Dark Lord's labored breathing.
Sabine felt the sweat pooling in her palms. She tried to keep her eyes on Vader's mask; she refused to be the first to look away.
That's odd….
Something was wrong with Vader's mask. It looked… cracked, or something, in the center. Like the right side of it had been broken off, and hastily reattached.
"You will repeat this story to Amidala," Vader said at last. "She will decide your fate."
Vader turned on his heel, and with a swirl of his cape, he left her cell.
Sabine pressed her head into her hands as the door slammed shut.
So Vader did capture Padme….
Sabine shut her eyes and tried to come up with a rescue plan.
Vader stormed out of Sabine Wren's cell, a cold sweat coating his skin. He pointed to the first Imperial officer he saw.
"No one else is permitted to interrogate these rebels," Vader barked. "You will see to it personally that my orders are obeyed." There was no mistaking the threat in the Sith Lord's words.
"Y-yes, my lord," the officer replied, his face sheet white.
Vader marched on before the officer could see him trembling.
"I could have killed you instead, and sold Padme to someone like the Hutts…."
The young rebel's words still haunted Vader- more than Sabine Wren could possibly know.
A lifetime of slavery under the Hutts, Vader thought, still shaken. They would have paid well for a Naboo Queen….
Vader cursed himself. He had been too stunned by Padme's sudden resurrection to take notice of anything else- he hadn't sensed the danger of the sniper rifle pointed at his back; he wouldn't have sensed the danger when it fired. He knew that if Sabine had chosen to kill him, he could never have reacted in time to save himself… or to save Padme from a lifetime of slavery.
Insolent girl, Vader cursed young Sabine Wren. How dare she?! The rebel threatens my wife, then demands a pardon for herself and the Jedi!
He was still trembling- not simply with rage, but with terror.
Sold to the Hutts… sold to a thousand other men…
And Vader had nearly allowed it to happen. He had been blind, just as blind as he had been ten years ago.
A thousand images flashed through his mind's eye: the flames of Mustafar, the black fortress crumpling atop his beloved wife… and her funeral on Naboo.
Not again, he swore to himself. Not ever again.
No one else would be permitted to interrogate Sabine Wren and her crew. No one else would learn of Padme's presence.
Especially not the Emperor.
Darth Sidious would lock Padme in the Imperial Palace, dangling her just out of Vader's reach, using her as a cruel means to control the Sith apprentice. And when Vader failed on his missions, the Emperor would no longer torture Vader with Force lightning- The Emperor would torture Padme instead.
Vader shuddered. No one could learn of Padme's presence.
No one.
He clenched his fists, black hatred still swirling through his mind. He would kill Sabine Wren and her crew- and a hundred thousand other beings- if it meant keeping Padme safe.
Still…. Vader slowed his pace, mulling over the encounter. Perhaps Wren chose her words poorly. She's an idealistic young rebel; she would never sell an innocent woman into slavery. Perhaps Wren only referenced the Hutts to make a point.
Wren did hand Padme over to me… even if the girl did it poorly.
Perhaps a pardon is not out of the question. Her Jedi friends could serve as Inquisitors… Wren herself was once a bright student at the Imperial Academy. Perhaps she wishes to return….
Yes… Wren was correct. She has more than earned my gratitude. And she is owed a favor….
But not at the cost of Padme's safety. If Wren and her crew were to tell anyone of Padme's presence… and if word made its way back to the Emperor….
Vader paused. Wren had been holding something back during the interrogation. The girl had a long history of impassioned rebel activity- she hated Vader, hated the Emperor, hated the Empire. She did not want to leave the Rebellion. That was an obvious lie.
Then what was the point of all this? Wren wanted pardons for herself and her crew, that much was obvious. But she had clearly lied about wanting to leave the Rebellion behind. Would she simply return to the Rebel Alliance once Vader released her from her cell?
His instincts still told him there was something more to it than that. Vader cursed quietly. There was something missing from her story, something Vader just couldn't see. He would have to speak to Padme about Sabine Wren's claims.
His heart lifted.
Padme…
He was going to see her again- tonight, at exactly midnight, like she'd promised him.
And he would find a way to keep her with him.
Within the turbolift was a neat line of twenty buttons, unlabeled, but presumably each represented a different floor. The top three buttons were set apart from the others, and had a small slit in the durasteel beneath them. Padme held up Vader's passkey to the thin opening. Sure enough, it looked like the slit was built to accept the metal, rectangular key.
After a moment's deliberation, she slipped the passkey into the slit, and pressed the top button- she assumed it would take her to the highest floor. Vader's castle was the second tallest building in this megablock, so placing his personal quarters on the top floor was a no-brainer- after all, an unobstructed view was a rare blessing on Coruscant.
The turbolift's ascent was smooth, but so fast that her stomach dropped. Vader's passkey smoothly slid back out of slit the wall; she claimed it with a fumbling, sweaty hand.
Padme realized she wasn't prepared for the turbolift doors to open. What would she find here? What did she hope to find? Her stomach shifted uneasily. She didn't know. But until midnight, she had unsupervised access to practically anywhere in Darth Vader's castle- and even if she didn't have a way to contact the rebels yet, she was not going to waste this opportunity.
There was that temptation again: to simply gather all the classified data she could, steal a ship, and go running, hoping that she'd find the rebels one way or another. But she pushed that thought out of her mind. Rebel allegiance or not, only an idiot would turn down the chance to have Darth Vader as an ally. Only a very selfish, egotistical idiot would turn down Darth Vader promising to do "anything" for her.
"Anything" was a very broad term, and she could think of many favors it encompassed. In the end, this was the best way for her to help the rebels.
If her freedom was the price for that, so be it.
She just hoped Anakin would be true to his word.
Padme held her breath as the turbolift doors opened. Her heart beat like it was trying to break her ribs, or burst out of her chest.
The first thing she noticed was the view. It was truly gorgeous, even on a gray, cloudy day such as this. Long, transparisteel panels interrupted the plain walls, allowing her to look down on the other skyscrapers that filled the landscape.
And the sky…. As if possessed by the open scene, Padme slowly glided towards one of the wide windows. Coruscant's sky had been clogged with airspeeder traffic, and cluttered by metal buildings. But here….
She resisted the urge to press a hand to the glass. Here, atop the towering palace, no skyscrapers interrupted the expanse of the cloudy sky.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, as if Anakin could hear her. She stared at the open sky for a few moments longer.
Focus, she firmly told herself. With an effort, Padme peeled herself away from the view, turning to examine the room she was in.
To her surprise, it was incredibly plain. The floor was the same gray durasteel as the lower corridor, and the walls were just as black as the castle's exterior. At least this floor was better lit than the corridor she'd first entered- several standard glowpanels ran across this room's ceiling.
Padme stepped towards the center of the largely empty room. There was very little furniture. What little there was had been made from simple gree wood or silver durasteel.
She brushed her fingers across the back of the gray couch. With a small ache in her chest, she realized Vader's couch was in the same place her couch had been in the 500 Republica.
Padme frowned, scanning the room more critically. With a flash of insight, she recognized the layout of the entire room- the entire floor, in fact. She rushed back to the turbolift, then turned her back to it, pretending she'd just walked out of it for the first time. The first few meters surrounding her were empty; that correlated to the entryway of her old apartment.
She closed her brown eyes, pretending she was really in her old apartment. Moving slowly, trying to envision her old home, she walked forward.
Alright… I'm coming out of the turbolift, into the entryway. A few more steps forward… I turn to the right, step forward, and I come right into the living room.
She opened her eyes. The déjà vu was enough to make her knees weak.
She'd been right about the placement of the couch- it was exactly the right distance away from her, and it was roughly the size and shape of her own couch. But Vader's was much simpler, an unadorned piece made of gray fabric and gree wood.
There were two tables nearby: a small one near the couch's left arm,and a low oval one just in front of the couch- they also roughly matched the size, shape, and placement of her own furniture.
Unnerved, Padme took a moment to sit and collect herself. Slowly, she took in the rest of the room, keeping her old apartment in mind.
There should have been another couch across from her, but Vader had excluded it from the arrangement- perhaps, Padme mused, because a second couch would have blocked the floor-to-ceiling window across from her.
She shifted in her seat, looking to the right. There were no dividing walls on this floor, like there had been in her old suite. But she could clearly pick out the "rooms" here. To her right was a long dining table, with the same number of chairs that she'd once owned, placed where her own dining room had been. To this "dining room's" left was an empty block of space that correlated to where her kitchen ought to have been.
It's just a coincidence, she told herself. Some droid probably picked out the furniture, following a standard apartment layout. Sith Lords don't take time to pick out sofas.
That thought didn't quell the gooseflesh crawling up her arms. This was a strange, unnatural floor plan. At least three-quarters of the area was empty. No droid would logically place furniture this way.
She still doubted that Vader- Anakin- would have had time to furnish the place himself.
Maybe he threw out what he didn't want, she pondered. Maybe he rearranged what he kept, so it would be out of his way.
Maybe then he wanted it to arrange things to be like our home.
Maybe… maybe he wanted it to make it like home for me. Obi-Wan warned me; he thought that Vader… Anakin… was still trying to… trying to...
Trying to resurrect me.
She shook her head, wishing she could stop herself from shivering. This wasn't going to do her any good, wondering how much Vader obsessed over her. This was silly.
Padme stood, slowly taking in the areas to her left and behind her. They were completely empty, devoted to expansive windows and unused floor space.
Maybe I should try a different floor.
She frowned. The rest of this area was empty, except for…
There was a small, almost unnoticeable seam in the dark wall across from her- she hurried to it.
If this was my old apartment, she thought, mind racing, then this would be….
The thought stopped her in her tracks.
This is exactly where the keypad to my bedroom door was.
The keypad had been a redundant security measure during the Clone Wars. After a third attempt on Padme's life, her security team had installed an extra lock on her bedroom door. If she engaged the lock, the door could only be opened by entering a lengthy passcode on the keypad.
And by the gods, she still knew the passcode.
Padme ran her fingers across the subtle seams in the castle wall. They surrounded a small square of metal, one with no place to enter a passcode. She bit her lip thoughtfully.
Then, with a sudden flash of insight, she realized what the obvious solution was. Padme waved Vader's passkey across the smooth surface. A small cry of triumph escaped her as a palm-sized segment of wall slid aside, revealing a keypad beneath it.
Taking a deep breath, Padme entered what she hoped on all the stars was the proper combination. She entered the combination she'd designated for her bedroom lock- the date of her wedding, with the numbers entered in reverse: year, then month, then day. She sent a silent prayer to the Force, then pressed the "enter" key.
With a deep rumble, the floor panel to her left slid aside, revealing a faintly lit spiral staircase, winding down into darkness.
Padme's heart stopped. A secret level within Vader's castle? She took a lone, faltering step toward the staircase... then froze.
He's a Sith Lord, she cautioned herself. A Sith Lord's secrets are never the good type.
But the odd staircase still beckoned to her curiosity.
A chill dripped down her spine as she recalled Obi-Wan's warning: Vader's… interest… in you has lingered. It borders on obsession….
Necromantic experiments…
Did she really want to see whatever Anakin had to hide? Whatever… experiments… he'd conducted? Her stomach twisted at the thought.
But then again… once Anakin realized she knew about his secret stairwell, he would find another way to hide it from her. He'd change the passcode, or install a second series of unbreakable locks, or ban her from this floor entirely.
Isn't it better to know what he's hiding?
And what if whatever Anakin was hiding was dangerous? What if she got herself killed, snooping around where she shouldn't be?
You have to stay alive. Not for yourself, but for your child. Her rational side insisted. You have to protect Jinn or Kiné from the Emperor.
That was the reason- part of the reason, at least- she'd come to Vader's castle in the first place.
Besides, she could always ask Vader what the strange staircase was for. If he deflected the question, she would know to avoid that secret floor for good.
But what if there's something down there I need to see? What if there are rebel prisoners locked away there?
And what if I get myself killed? Then who will protect my child? A lump formed in her throat. She knew the answer. But that didn't mean she liked it.
Obi-Wan would protect them.
As angry as she was with the Jedi Master… angry that Obi-Wan nearly coerced her to nearly Anakin, angry that Obi-Wan might have lied to her about her child's death… she couldn't forget that the Jedi had gone to every length to protect her child, if he or she was truly alive.
And Obi-Wan had done his job well, hadn't he? Neither the Emperor, nor Vader, had found her child yet. Nor had they found Obi-Wan. And the Sith Lords hadn't even realized Padme was still alive.
Padme sighed softly. She'd judged the Jedi Master far too harshly. If Obi-Wan had lied to her about her child's death, it was only to protect him or her.
It's what I would have wanted, she admitted to herself. Not what I would have wanted in an ideal galaxy, or in a perfect life. But all I would have wanted for Jinn or Kiné was for them to be safe.
Not for the first time, she pondered the rashness of her decision to head to Vader's castle. Obi-Wan and the Ghost crew could be dead, or in danger- or even searching for her at this very moment- and Padme had run right to the person the rebels had all vowed to kill.
Sabine, poor girl… Is she safe? Did she make it offworld? And what about Obi-Wan, Hera, Kanan, Ezra, Zeb… even Chopper….
What if they were trying to rescue her from Vader's castle at this very moment? Or what if they were dead? Gunned down by stormtroopers, or even killed by Va-
Fury rushed up within the former queen, so suddenly that it almost stunned her. Anakin had done this. Anakin was trying to kill Obi-Wan, Sabine, and every other rebel and Jedi. Anakin had lead Order 66, slaughtering even the younglings; Anakin was the reason her child was in danger; Anakin and his turn to the Dark Side was the reason she almost died, the reason she was comatose for a decade, the reason she didn't know if her child was actually alive or dead-
Breathing heavily, Padme made up her mind. She was going to enter every locked room, every secret stairway, until Anakin arrived; danger be damned. And when Anakin did show up, Padme was going to have a long list of conditions he'd have to satisfy if he truly wanted her back.
Mentally, she ran through the list.
The safe release of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Ghost crew.
The safety of her child, if he or she was alive. Padme frowned, debating that point. Should she tell Anakin her suspicions? Or trust Obi-Wan to continue to hide her child?
Her brief conversation with Anakin on Mustafar, just after his fall to the Dark Side, flashed through her mind.
"I'm so sorry Padmé, I never should have left you alone. I won't let him hurt you. Either of you." Anakin's gold, bloodshot eyes drifted down to her stomach, where their child rested.
"Anakin… please. You know Obi-Wan, we've both known him for years. He'd never hurt us. He wants to help us- all three of us- if we'll let him." Padmé's brown eyes pleaded with her husband. "You don't have to do this. Come away with me. We can go anywhere you want; we'll run away, just like you've always wanted-"
"We don't have to run anymore, Padmé." Anakin said quietly, squeezing her hand. "I know what the Jedi told you- I know what I've told you- about the Sith, but I was wrong. Some of them were evil, but it's not that simple."
"Some of them- Anakin," Padmé said, her face sheet white, her lower lip trembling. "Anakin, you know what the Sith are. They're like Darth Maul, and Count Dooku, and what Palpatine asked you to do here-"
"I know, I know," He soothed her. His thumb traced soft circles over the back of her hand. "But things can be different now, Padmé. Now's our chance to change all that."
She shuddered. The memory still burned vividly: his glowing yellow eyes, the sheer conviction in his gentle tone… and the bodies of the Separatist leaders lying on the floor behind him.
Speaking to Anakin had been like trying to reason with a madman. What if he was the same now? Or even worse than he was before?
Ten years ago, he was willing to kill younglings. How much worse could he become?
Why?! She silently screamed. Why, Anakin?!
Padme was going to demand an answer tonight. More than an answer- repentance.
The safe release of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Ghost crew.
The death of the Emperor.
And the safety of my child.
She'd made up her mind: she was going to tell him the truth about their child. Not because it was the smartest thing to do. But because if Anakin found out about their child's survival himself- and if Anakin learned she had hidden this from him, because of Obi-Wan-
She felt the blood drain from her face. Padme didn't believe he would take his fury out on her. But anyone and everyone else in the galaxy would suffer. Especially the rebels. Especially the Jedi.
And especially Obi-Wan.
And Padme owed Obi-Wan far more than her life. She wasn't going to place him in danger now.
She pulled herself from her musings. She only had until midnight to freely roam Vader's castle. And she would need to discover exactly what state of ruin the galaxy was in, if she wanted to go about fixing it.
Mind made up, Padme started down the stairway. The secret level she'd discovered wasn't going to explore itself.
Obi-Wan held his head in his hands. Beside him, in the pilot's chair, Hera did the same.
Chopper whistled softly, nuzzling against Hera's leg. Hera looked up with bleary green eyes. Eventually, she summoned the energy to pat his dome.
"We'll get them back, Chops." She whispered hoarsely. "We won't leave Coruscant until we do."
Obi-Wan stared numbly out the viewport. There was no soothing sea of constellations to greet him. He, Hera, and Chopper were aboard the Ghost, but the ship was still hidden in the Good Omens casino's hangar bay. It had never left that location. The other rebels had been captured before the Ghost could even leave the hangar bay and attempt to rescue them.
The three of them were slumped, exhausted, in the cockpit. Obi-Wan and Hera stared at the small, blinking screen between them. As if by sheer force of will, they could find the resources to rescue the rest of the Ghost crew.
Obi-Wan had activated the tracking device he planted on the prison transport. He and Hera numbly stared at the beacon's location on their map, each refusing to leave until inspiration struck and a rescue plan came to them.
The beacon showed that the prison transport had stopped at a detention block. The highest security detention block on Coruscant. One that held only life-sentence and death row inmates.
"We could…" Obi-Wan started half-heartedly. He trailed off.
What's one Jedi and a pilot going to do against Darth Vader? Not to mention the stormtroopers?
Not to mention the Emperor, Darth Sidious?
Obi-Wan ran a hand over his weary eyes. Not for the first time, he wished Master Yoda had come with them.
"Hera…" Obi-Wan gingerly began. "The best thing to do may be to leave Coruscant, and return with reinforcements."
"It might be." She agreed hoarsely. Neither of them moved. Neither of them was willing to leave.
"If… If it is any comfort at all," Obi-Wan continued, "I can sense that Ezra and Kanan are alive."
And in pain. He left that thought unsaid.
"What about Sabine and Zeb?" Hera whispered.
"It's more difficult for me to sense them, because they aren't Jedi." Obi-Wan answered. "But I believe that if the others are alive, then Sabine and Zeb are, too."
Hera nodded. She knew Vader would want to interrogate every member of her crew.
"He's torturing them, isn't he?" Hera asked. Her huge teal eyes held no tears, but an indescribable grief.
"Yes," Obi-Wan answered softly. He had no comfort he could give her, except for honest answers.
"And Padme?" The twi'lek continued. "Vader's not keeping her in the same place, is he?"
"No," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes burning. "No, I don't think he is."
That was the challenge mounted before them- they were trying to plan not one suicidal rescue mission, but two.
"We'll think of something," Obi-Wan repeated.
"We will." Hera affirmed.
They stared at that map for a long, long time.
Steeling herself, Padme started down the spiral staircase. Her thin shoes did little to shield her feet from the cold durasteel beneath them. She was still shivering, she dimly realized, from the cold or from shock or from both.
She just hoped this staircase led to somewhere warm.
The metal staircase was wound into an uncomfortably tight, steep spiral- and it had no handrails. Padme squinted into the darkness, stepping down with exceeding care, mindful of her long dress pooling around her ankles.
At least this isn't too high, she thought gratefully. Her brown eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, and she realized how short this staircase truly was. It led down into another corridor- and a very small one, from the look of it. The hidden hall was just over two meters high, and barely a meter wide.
She made it to the bottom of the spiral stairs. Warily, she touched one foot to the shadowed floor, and-
Padme gasped as she was plunged into complete darkness. She heard a whisper of movement above her; she looked up; her stomach sank. The trapdoor above her had closed.
Frantically, she stumbled up the treacherous stairs. Her small hands pressed against the ceiling; the trapdoor refused to budge.
And I have no idea how to open it again.
She swore beneath her breath.
Well… nowhere to go but down.
Cautiously, Padme made her way back down the metal, twisting stairs. She cursed her husband for not installing a railing- she was being forced to navigate the spiral, wide-spaced steps in complete darkness. Her stomach flipped as she leaned unsteadily to the side. Padme stretched her hand out, reaching for a wall so she could balance herself. Her hand brushed against a raised surface- it was some sort of control panel….
With a dull hum, warm, artificial light flooded the locked corridor. She lifted a hand to shield her burning eyes. As she gingerly lowered her hand, she found herself looking at...
Wall sconces?
Two glowing, golden orbs hung on the walls- and they were unquestionably crafted in the style of Naboo. And perhaps it was the warm light, but everything seemed different in this secret section of the castle. Like it was… softer. More luxurious. Reddish floors complemented earthen-toned walls. The holocams gleamed gold instead of silver.
Padme stepped forward, heart leaping. There was a lone door at the end of the hall- and its keypad was in full view. She ran her fingers lightly across each key.
Alright, Anakin… let's see how well I know you.
So far, Vader had obviously chosen passcodes that were personal to her.
That means this should be easy… theoretically.
Padme bit her lower lip, running through her memories of the Clone Wars. What were the most important dates, the most important number combinations, to both her and Anakin?
There was at least one likely contender, something only she or Vader would think of. It was the first six digits of the encryption key they'd used when sending holo messages to each other. She entered the combination on the keypad, then held her breath.
The door opened.
In the end, there were two more corridors- and two more lone, locked doors- she had to pass through. She managed to guess each combination, after a few attempts (one was another encryption key they'd used during the war; the other was the last six digits of her old comm number).
Thankfully, no booby traps or stormtroopers descended on her when she entered an incorrect combination. But then again.… Once passed through each door, it sealed behind her, and offered no way out- and that was just as excellent of a security measure. Any trespassers would be found and dealt with by the Dark Lord himself.
As Padme passed through each door, and entered each new corridor, the materials used to construct it became more and more luxurious. The durasteel floors became plush scarlet carpets. The walls transitioned from dark metal to painted plaster. And the number of elegant lighting fixtures- all from Naboo- multiplied.
And finally- finally- Padme passed through the last, locked doorway. Her jaw dropped as it slid silently open.
She was looking at the circular entrance hall of Varykino- her family's lakeside retreat on Naboo. Padme stumbled across the marble floors, feeling faint.
Her gaze flew to the scene across from her. A rosy marble balcony overlooked a sandy beach, and a gorgeous, clear blue lake. The sky was a pure, light color; birds flitted above the forested mountains- and Padme could hear everything: the crashing waves, the birds' songs, the gentle breeze rustling through the forest leaves.
A smile, a true, beautiful smile, lit up her face. Padme raced across the sweeping, domed room, scarcely able to believe what she was seeing as she stepped onto the balcony. Her hand tentatively settled on the railing. She was home- home!
The smile slowly faded as she came back to her senses.
I'm on Coruscant… I'm on Coruscant, inside Vader's castle.
She leaned over the balcony railing. With trembling fingers, Padme stretched out her hand- then flinched as she touched a cool, smooth surface about a meter away from the balcony.
It's just a holoscreen, she realized, heart sinking as she touched the curved wall. Just a recording.
The beach, the lake, the mountains- they were all an illusion.
Padme softly drew back from the moving mural. As her fingertips left the wall, the image flickered- then shifted. Her jaw dropped as a towering forest suddenly appeared, golden sunlight filtering through the canopy.
Experimentally, Padme waved her hand- she tried to mimic the gesture she'd made seconds ago. The holoscreen shifted again, showing her a sparkling nightscape: the skyscrapers of Coruscant, glowing a thousand artificial colors beneath the inky sky.
Padme clutched the balcony railing, a lump forming in her throat. She'd had enough of Coruscant for one day.
She waved her hand in the opposite direction. The tightness in her chest eased somewhat as the scene of Coruscant disappeared, and the softly lit forest took its place.
Padme turned, leaving the balcony behind her. This impossible space was starting to make a lot more sense. She craned her neck to stare at the domed ceiling- logic told her this secret level was too short to accommodate such a towering, domed structure.
Another holoscreen, she thought sadly. The real ceiling couldn't be even three meters off the floor- not if Vader wanted this secret floor to go unnoticed. A secret level, by definition, had to be short enough to fit undetected between two "real" levels.
She made her way across the entrance hall, weaving around the settees and tables. They were plush, expensive pieces, perfect copies of the furniture on Varykino. Perhaps they were the actual pieces from Naboo. Vader could have moved them here.
Padme quickly pressed that thought aside. She didn't want to think about the Sith Lord trespassing in a place she held so close to her heart. Instead, she turned her attention to the rest of the room.
The right side of the entrance hall was completely taken up by the "balcony" and holoscreen, while the center of the room was filled with tasteful Nubian furniture. However, the left end of the foyer housed six tall wooden doors.
Speaking of doors…
Padme glanced behind her. There was the durasteel door she'd entered through…
And sure enough, there was no control panel she could use to let herself out.
She went over and tested the durasteel door, just to be sure. She waved Vader's passkey across every surface she could think of. She even searched for an oddly placed bust or bookshelf that could be hiding the door controls.
Padme found nothing. She was well and truly stuck.
Well, then… onto the other doors.
She briskly crossed the foyer, and opened the first wooden door. (It was a traditional, hinged door, the type only found in Naboo's ancient temples and palaces. Padme felt certain that it couldn't lock itself behind her- but just to be safe, she held the door open as she peered inside the next room.)
Behind the first grand door was a round dining room. It showcased another "balcony" at the back end- the holoscreen behind it displayed the softly lit forest scene. A polished wooden table stood the center of the room, with high-backed chairs arranged around it.
A lump formed in Padme's throat, an old memory momentarily blinding her. She'd been in this room before- so had Anakin.
"Now, don't tell Obi-Wan I did this for you," Anakin teased her as he cut the piece of green shurra fruit. Senator Amidala smiled, entranced.
With a soft, mischievous smile, Anakin raised his hand- and a slice of fruit began to levitate. It floated towards his companion.
Padme lifted her fork, deftly catching the slice. She tried not to blush as she took a bite.
Gods, he was so handsome… and he knew it.
Quickly, Padme backed out of the room, slamming the door shut.
The next room, as it turned out, was no better. It was a sitting room with a grand fireplace- another replica of Varykino.
"I know… I know it's very late. Thank you for getting up to talk to me." Anakin's words sounded oddly formal- as if he'd rehearsed this conversation a hundred times. "I'm sorry to wake you up, it's just… there's something I've wanted to talk to you about for a while, and I've only just figured out how to say it."
"Alright," Padme cautiously replied. Beneath her ribs, her heart was racing. Was he going to tell her that he…
That he loved…?
Padme stumbled out of the sitting room, not bothering to close the door behind her.
Gods, Anakin, you couldn't build one room that doesn't remind me of everything you ruined?!
Fuming, she flung open the door to the next room.
Padme snorted softly. Vader's office, judging by the color scheme. She idly wondered if the Sith knew there were colors other than red and black.
In Vader's office, the floors were dark, reddish wood, while the walls were once again black. Padme ran a finger lightly across the walls, and found they were made of painted plaster, not cold durasteel. At the back of the room were four lancet windows…
No, these are holoscreens too, Padme realized. They showed the softly lit Naboo forest, not a view of Coruscant. Her stomach twisted.
There are no windows here, and there's only one door that leads to the other levels of the castle. And that door doesn't open from the inside.
She'd come here willingly- willing to trade her freedom for her friends and family's safety. But now, looking at her pretty cage…
For that's what this was, a lovely cage, one that Vader had clearly poured his heart into making for her…
Now that Padme stood inside her beautiful little cage, she wanted nothing more than to tear her way out of it.
Nothing to do about it now, she decided, forcing an air of lightness into her thoughts. Not if I want my friends and family to be safe, anyway….
Padme turned, ready to leave the office behind. But there was Vader's personal computer terminal resting on the desk, completely unguarded, no doubt full of Imperial secrets….
No. No, she told herself firmly. It's not worth the risk. If Vader catches me passing information to the rebels, he'll never trust me again.
Vader promised me anything. Just think about that.
Think about Vader shoving Emperor Palpatine toppling off his ill-begotten throne….
Still, she couldn't quite stop herself from drifting towards Vader's desk. Padme sat herself in the high-backed chair beside it, then massaged her aching temples, trying to think.
Should I even be doing this? Should I really be looking for information to pass to the Alliance?
Of course she should, how was that even a question? Anakin… as much as she loved him, Anakin had joined the Sith. He had murdered… thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of sentient beings in the past ten years.
But he promised me he'd do anything… He'd kill the Emperor if I asked him to.
Or so she hoped.
And aren't I jeopardizing that arrangement by aiding the rebels behind Vader's back?
Padme pinched the bridge of her nose. What kind of a question was that? Of course she was. Of course she was risking Vader's wrath by underhandedly helping his enemies. Vader would never trust her again if he caught her helping the rebels.
A memory dimly welled up in her mind's eye: Anakin's fury when she decided to help Senator Rush Clovis- a former Sepratist spy- investigate the corruption of the Intergalactic Banking Clan.
To be fair, she admitted, the fact that Clovis was my ex had a lot to do with it.
Of course, Padme's intentions with Clovis had never been the slightest bit romantic during that mission. She was a very happily- if secretly- married woman. But her faithfulness hadn't mattered to Anakin. All that had mattered to Anakin was what he perceived as Clovis'... indecent… intentions with regards to her.
Padme leaned back in Vader's chair, running a hand across her weary eyes. Whether she liked it or not, she knew Darth Vader better than anyone else in the galaxy. And whether she liked it or not, if she wanted to help the rebels, she was going to have to play the long game.
That meant being Vader's loving, faithful wife- faithful to him, and faithful to his Empire. As long as she could do that, Emperor Palpatine's days were numbered. And right now, that was the best thing she could possibly do for the Rebel Alliance.
With a quiet groan, Padme forced herself out of Vader's office.
The other rooms were more of the same: windowless, luxurious quarters built to replicate Varykino, down to the last detail. Listlessly, Padme wandered through the areas. Aside from the dining room, sitting room, and Vader's office, there was a rather impressive library- shelf after shelf of real flimsiplast books, not to mention the holobooks and holovids. Her jaw dropped again when she entered a small, marble dominated by a real swimming pool; her mouth watered a bit when she found the kitchen.
She almost considered eating- her last meal had been at least twenty-four hours ago- but a wave of nausea swirled up at the thought. Her stomach was still tied in anxious knots.
The last area she entered was a sweeping, airy bedroom, complete with a walk-in closet and a 'fresher.
I should probably change, she dully realized. She didn't really want to be wearing her funeral gown when Vader arrived.
A flash of panic hit her so suddenly that she started.
Oh gods- I still have the rebels' cloaking device with me. She was still wearing it; it was, in fact, still turned on. She'd never turned it off.
And unless she wanted Vader to get his hands on it, she needed to hide it. Better yet, she needed to find a way to destroy it.
But where? Not Vader's office, and not the entrance hall…
Could she melt it in the sitting room fireplace? But that didn't solve her problem; there'd still be a suspicious lump of metal for her to deal with once it cooled off. Could she even get it back out of the fireplace, once it finished melting down? There hadn't been a fire poker nearby, she hadn't even seen a way to turn the fireplace off. No, the fireplace wasn't an option….
What about the 'fresher?
She rushed inside of it.
Calm down, she instructed herself. There's still hours before Vader's supposed to get here.
Meticulously, Padme rifled through the cabinets and drawers under the 'fresher countertop. There wasn't much she could use: a hairbrush and combs, makeup palettes, various sparkling hair pieces…
What am I supposed to do, flush the cloaking device down the toilet and hope it doesn't clog? Just chuck it in the trash bin and hope Vader never notices?
At last, she found a somewhat viable option. A small box of feminine hygiene products was tucked away in the corner of a cabinet.
Not the most dignified hiding spot, she acknowledged, but Vader would never have a reason to look in here.
Padme froze, her mind catching up to her frantic actions.
Why in the galaxy does Vader keep women's toiletries here? She'd assumed Vader had built everything here for her. But she'd been dead. And Vader was- according to one of Obi-Wan's theories- encased in some sort of life-support suit. Vader shouldn't be able to eat the food in the fully-stocked kitchen here, and he certainly didn't need this box of ladies' toiletries, or the women's clothing in the closet.
Either Vader had placed everything here for her, in case he succeeded in resurrecting her… or else…
Ice slipped through her veins.
What if Anakin… No. No, Anakin wouldn't have a mistress.
Would he?
Padme's stomach squirmed uncomfortably. She'd been dead for ten years- only supposedly dead, but dead to Anakin nonetheless. What was there to stop him from taking another woman?
Padme ignored the nausea welling up in her, and simply gritted her teeth.
If there is a mistress, I am going to deal with that situation later. I am going to deal with this cloaking device first.
But that brought up another question- as soon as she hid the cloaking device, she would (obviously) become visible to the castle's security holocams. There were holocams everywhere on this level, except…
Padme glanced around the room she was currently in.
Except in the 'fresher.
So it was safe for her to take off the cloaking device in here.
But what if Vader was watching the security holos right now? Watching Padme's "ghost" move invisibly through her new quarters, causing doors and objects to move "on their own?" Wouldn't Vader find it strange- even a little suspicious- if Padme suddenly chose to become visible while walking out of the 'fresher, of all places?
And what if Vader had captured the other rebels, and the Sith Lord realized they'd all been carrying cloaking devices? Would Vader put two and two together? Suspect Padme of using a cloaking device herself?
I'm probably overthinking this… But I'm going to cover my tracks, just in case.
And she'd have to do it carefully….
Padme exited the 'fresher with her cloaking device still activated. Invisibly, she crossed the bedroom, heading for the spacious walk-in-closet. She glanced up at the closet ceiling as she flicked on the lights. Sure enough, there was a holocam in each corner of the long room.
Time to put on a show, then.
Padme took her time looking through rack after rack of women's clothing. Gently, she ran her hands across the fabric, letting the holocams capture the garments' mysterious movements. Padme tried to unclench her jaw, as her mind conjured images of Vader's mistress touching these same gowns.
I don't know that he has a mistress, Padme firmly told herself. And I don't care if he does have one.
She ignored the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Padme frowned, brow creased in concentration, as she spotted a golden dress embroidered with pink flowers.
My dress… the one I wore on Naboo, in the meadows with Anakin.
She pulled the delicate dress off the hangar, holding it against her petite body, just to be sure. Padme let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
It is my dress- the exact same dress.
Not some replica Vader had designed for his mistress.
Not that I care if he has a mistress. I don't… I don't… I don't.
But that didn't stop her heart from lifting as she realized how small that possibility really was.
I'm being ridiculous, she told herself. This is a closet filled with my clothes. This is a… not a home, but a place to live… filled with all the things Vader knows I loved. This was meant for me, not some other woman.
But the relief was short-lived.
This isn't Anakin showing his love for me. This is Vader obsessing over me. There's a difference. A very disturbing difference….
Padme shuddered, trying not to picture the necromantic experiments Obi-Wan had warned her of.
She spent a while longer idly moving the clothes around, letting the holocams capture the movements. She refused to dwell on the memories her old dresses brought up. And when she felt it was safe to do so, Padme pulled a warm-looking dress off its hangar, gathered some socks and undergarments from the dresser, and brought them into the 'fresher with her.
Now, at least the "ghost" of Padme would have a reason to suddenly become visible on her way out of the 'fresher- even if it was a little far-fetched. Padme was going to accept the offerings Vader had left for her: specifically, a change of clothes and a hot shower.
She'd hide her cloaking device in the 'fresher, and when she came back out into the bedroom- in full view of the holocams- she'd be wearing the new clothes Vader had left for her. Padme hoped that would give her "ghost" a reason to suddenly become visible to the holocams.
It didn't have to be a perfect alibi. It just had to be good enough to hide the fact that she had a cloaking device…. Something a ghost definitely didn't need.
Padme stepped into the 'fresher with her new clothes. At last, as the door closed behind her, Padme turned off her cloaking device. She flinched- in the mirror was a wild-haired, puffy-eyed woman covered in ash, dirt and blood. Padme leaned toward the mirror, clutching the 'fresher counter for support. She pressed two cold fingers to her cheek. Yes… this was her. Torn dress, mascara running down her cheeks, scrapes and cuts and even burns covering her pale, shivering body.
How close was I to the explosion in the alleyway?
If she'd felt any pain, she hadn't noticed it then. She could barely feel it now- a dull throb pulsing its way through her numb, frigid body. Gods, she looked like she'd just crawled out of her grave.
The cloaking device, her mind prompted her.
Right.
Carefully, Padme knelt down, wincing as sharp pains shot up through her knee. For Force's sake, how had she been so oblivious to her injuries before?
She shook her head as she dug through one of the cabinets beneath the 'fresher counter. With a trembling hand, she pulled out the box of feminine hygiene products, and shoved the rebels' cloaking device into the very bottom. She sighed, dissatisfied.
That won't work. What if it just falls out one day?
Padme pulled the cloaking device back out. Taking her time, she sifted through the various women's toiletries in the box, until she found a product slightly larger than the cloaking device. She unwrapped the product, and threw out the clean cotton; then she painstakingly enclosed the cloaking device in the product's wrapper. Padme did her best to conceal the cloaking device's shape by stuffing extra tissues beneath the wrapper.
It could be worse, she decided as she stuffed the disguised cloaking device into the very bottom of the box of toiletries.
She stood up- and cursed, the pain driving through her knee like a small sword.
"Shiraya's wings," Padme swore, clamping a hand over her leg. That was a mistake; the simple act practically set her limb on fire.
She shrugged off her cloak and tattered silk gown, examining the damage.
Shrapnel… oh, sharrows, that's a lot of shrapnel. She felt bile rise up in her throat as she observed the bloody, shredded, bright red knee cap.
It's okay… it's okay, it's just tiny pieces. Not even as big as my fingernail. They're each maybe the size of half my fingernail.
"It's scabbed over," she muttered soothingly to herself. "It's scabbed over, I'm not bleeding out. It's okay. It's just surface stuff; it's not even in there that deep. And I can still walk. It'll be fine."
She stumbled over to the shower, managing to turn on the hot water before she had to lean against the 'fresher counter to support herself. Irrationally, she wished Vader was here.
Well, maybe it wasn't that irrational. Pulling shrapnel out of her own knee wasn't exactly pleasant.
Trying not to gag at the thought of doing that, Padme shuffled over to the medicine cabinet. Sure enough, there was a medkit there. She pulled out a pair of tweezers, some gauze, and several bacta patches, then dragged herself into the hot shower.
It hurt. Like acid rain. But she curled up on the tile floor, and forced her marred knee under the steady flow of water, letting the shower clean the injury for her. And she forced herself to take deep, even breaths, even as her limbs trembled.
Pulling out the shrapnel was the worst part. She did it intermittently, giving herself breaks to wash her hair, or scrub the ruined makeup off her scraped face. It probably just dragged the whole process out, but she accepted that. It kept her from going crazy in the meantime.
Finally, it was over, and she stuck her knee out of the shower, carefully patting it dry. She hissed softly with each touch, but it wasn't the worst pain she'd felt in the past few days. That thought kept her going. Then she added bacta patches to her knee and wrapped a stiff bandage around the whole thing.
She towel dried her hair and the rest of her body, then managed to wriggle into the undergarments she'd brought with her. The dress came next- it was a soft, white, warm thing, velvet on the outside and lined with fur inside the long, flowing sleeves. Padme gratefully hid her hands in the warm sleeves, her shivers finally subsiding.
She gave herself permission to comb and dry her hair, and to apply a bit of makeup. Padme wanted to look as put-together as she could for her encounter with Vader. Not like the wild-eyed gutter rat she'd appeared to be earlier.
She tossed her ruined cloak and funeral gown into the trash bin. She'd already pulled the small flowers out of her hair, letting them run down the shower drain.
I hope I never see those again in my life.
As for her dagger, and the leather scabbard for her forearm? She just tossed them into a drawer. Vader already knew she had the dagger, he'd seen her with it in the alleyway. If he was determined to find the weapon and take it from her, he'd find it, regardless of where she hid it. (The cloaking device was another matter. Vader didn't know she had it- and he didn't need to know she had it- so he wouldn't be searching for it.)
Padme finally limped out of the 'fresher. She glanced at the chrono on the nightstand. Already, it was past five o'clock.
Quietly, Padme cursed herself for telling Vader to meet her at exactly midnight. When she'd first set that deadline, she hadn't even intended to stay at the castle- she hadn't had any idea of what to do. All she'd been trying to do was buy herself time.
She hadn't known if she would use the time she'd bought herself to search for Obi-Wan and the Ghost crew, or to steal information from Vader's castle and escape off-world. She certainly hadn't planned to willingly stay in the castle.
But when she'd begun to suspect her child survived… that had changed everything. And now here she was, locked in the secret quarters Vader had built for her. Padme looked at the chrono on the nightstand and sighed. Unfortunately, she still had seven hours before Vader would arrive. Seven hours that he could be using to hunt down the rebels….
Again, Padme cursed herself, thinking of Sabine, and Obi-Wan, and the rest of her friends…. They were in danger because of her. And right now, there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing but stare at the chrono on the nightstand, counting down the hours until Vader returned….
Something else on the nightstand caught Padme's eye: a small, black leather book. She hadn't noticed it before, but it looked like it had been hastily discarded there. It sat askew on the table, face-down with the pages splayed out beneath it.
Like Vader was reading this, and set it down in a hurry.
Curiosity stirred, Padme picked up the book, and settled onto the large bed to read. The first thing she noticed was that there was a pen on the nightstand, one that had been trapped beneath the book- and the book she was holding was handwritten.
A journal?
She started to skim the page the journal was opened to- then realized she was trying to start reading in the middle of the entry. She flicked back to the beginning of the most recent entry. A jolt surged through her spine as she recognized Anakin's handwriting.
My love,
It's been ten years now since I wrote you that first letter. I miss you just as much as I did on that first day, and I wish I had found more time to write to you recently.
I've been very busy with preparations for this tenth Empire Day- although that is no excuse to delay writing to you. Still, I hope you will forgive me, and understand that what little time I have to myself, I use to try and bring you back to me.
In that regard, I've met another dead end, one just as frustrating as my last failure. Although I uncovered the holocron of Darth Andeddu- the Sith Lord who was once hailed as immortal- I found nothing of use. There were rituals pertaining to the preservation of self, but nothing I could use to bring you home to me. In the end, I decided it was best to destroy the holocron, and prevent my master from gaining the same knowledge.
I miss you, Padme. You and our child. I love you both more than you could know, and I hope you will forgive me for the time we have lost together. We'll be together soon, beloved, I promise you. It's only a matter of ti
The entry ended abruptly. He must have been interrupted, by the rebels, or the Emperor….
Padme took a deep, shuddering breath, biting her lip to try and keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. She'd cried too much today, already.
But her efforts were in vain. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as the sobs shook her body, and she turned back to the very first page of the journal- it was dated to nearly ten years ago.
My dearest Padme,
Today is your lifeday, beloved, and I sat down to write you a letter as I always do for the occasion. It wasn't until I picked up the pen that I remembered you aren't here to celebrate it with me.
I hope that, in some way, you will know that I keep you constantly in my thoughts. Everyday, I meditate on the memories I have of you, so that they may never fade away. I've caught myself foolishly hoping that if I think of you long enough, it will summon your spirit.
Do not be afraid, my love. Wherever you are now, know that I will never cease to think of you; nor will I ever cease to love you. Nor will I ever stop searching for a way to bring you back to me.
Wherever you are now, Padme, don't worry. I'm coming. I promise.
With all my love,
Anakin.
Padme pressed a hand to her mouth, her vision blurring, the sobs still wracking her body. She jumped up on shaking legs, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere, but on the bed beside that journal. Dark spots abruptly filled her vision- she gasped as her head spun. She shouldn't be surprised, really, she chastised herself. She'd stood up much too suddenly, and hadn't eaten or drank anything in nearly a day, and she'd probably lost a bit of blood from her injuries….
Her vision grew dimmer, the room still swooping back and forth. Unsteadily, she backed up to the bed, hands grasping blindly for something to balance herself with…. Her legs hit the bed, and she managed to crawl atop it before her knees buckled. She felt herself crumple atop the soft covers.
She didn't even realize she passed out.
Vader limped out of his master's throne room, the apprentice's bones still aching from wave after wave of Force lightning. Sidious had been disgusted by the escape of Kenobi, not to mention the Ghost crew's leader, Hera Syndulla. Vader gritted his teeth. The apprentice had captured the rest of the rebel crew, not to mention two Jedi, Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger. But the Emperor showed no mercy.
Still, one thought had kept Vader sane: it would be midnight soon. The Sith Lord's pain faded as he glanced at the chronometer on the wall of the Imperial Palace. It was six o'clock. Only six more hours until he could see her again, and yet it felt like an eternity stretched between them.
Vader staggered eagerly out of the Imperial Palace. He had no wish to stay there, tempting his master's fury; yet Vader couldn't return to his own castle yet- not until exactly midnight, as Padme had warned him.
In the end, Vader decided simply to wait in his speeder, flying aimlessly through Coruscant's empty skies.
6:21 P.M….
6:35...
6:42….
Vader tapped his fingers impatiently against the steering yoke. With a quiet, frustrated growl, he landed his dark speeder in some sort of empty park, one within view of his castle. Perhaps here he could find something to occupy his mind until midnight….
Vader pulled out his comlink, checking for any missed calls or messages he could attend to.
To his shock, there were dozens upon dozens of messages on his direct frequency- and every Imperial knew that calling Lord Vader directly, in any case except a drastic emergency, was an automatic death sentence.
Frowning, Vader scrolled through the messages, starting with the oldest first. There was one from roughly noon that day, from some ambitious technician blabbering on about prototype cloaking devices- rebel technology to rival the Empire's. Vader decided to deal with that matter tomorrow; it was nothing urgent. And the technician who dared contact him this way would have to be reminded of that….
Tomorrow. Vader didn't dare begin any new matters so close to midnight.
The rest of the messages were all- his stomach dropped- security alerts from his castle. Vader immediately opened them, thoughts of Padme's safety flying through his mind.
Vader had never trusted sentient beings to monitor his security systems; Vader knew they could easily be bribed by the Emperor to spy on him. Instead, Vader programmed the security system to send reports to his comlink whenever something outside routine occurred- that could mean a door was opened by someone other than Vader or the cleaning droids, or it could mean the holocams captured footage of a person not on the facial recognition program's whitelist…. There were a hundred thousand possibilities.
Now his comlink was filled with those automatic messages. They each contained time stamps and holocam footage from that day, along with brief information crawls stating that Vader's passkey had been used to open various doors, and even-
For a moment, Vader couldn't breathe. Someone had used Vader's own passkey to break into the secret level.
Swiftly, Vader opened the first message.
2:21 P.M. Door #5 [East Exterior Door] opened. Personal passkey [VADER] used.
Facial recognition software detects no one.
Footage: Holocam #117
Vader played back the footage. The door opened… and no one entered the castle. Frowning, Vader opened the next message.
2:25 P.M. Turbolift #5 [East Interior Lift] summoned.
Facial recognition software detects no one.
Footage: Holocam #119
Vader played back this footage, as well. The turbolift doors opened in the hall… and again, there was no one present.
Uneasily, Vader looked up, observing his castle in the distant city skyline. This wasn't the work of any ordinary criminal.
2:34 P.M. Door [NO DESIGNATION NUMBER] opened. Personal passkey [VADER] used.
Facial recognition software detects no one.
Footage: Holocam #1005
Vader's grip tightened on the comlink as he watched the floor panel slowly slide open, revealing the secret staircase leading to Padme's future quarters.
The Sith Lord rewound the footage to 2:25 P.M., when the turbolift had been summoned to the ground level. Sure enough, less than a minute later, the turbolift opened on the top floor of Vader's quarters. Dark thoughts swirled through Vader's mind as he contemplated the events.
So the thief steals one of my passkeys, and uses a cloaking device to enter my quarters…. Vader clenched his fists. Perhaps this is Hera Syndulla or Kenobi, using the rebels' prototype cloaking devices….
He was shocked from his musings at the sound of her beautiful voice just a moment later. It was only a murmur, one Vader couldn't quite make out; he hastily rewound the footage, playing it back at the highest volume.
"It's beautiful," Padme murmured, just a few moments after the turbolift opened.
Vader laughed, a smile breaking across his face as tears spilled out of his eyes.
It was real. It was all real.
Was that why she had asked for his passkey, then? To reassure him that what he'd seen in the alley was not some hallucination or fantasy? That she was truly there, truly waiting for him, leaving him whatever trace of herself that she could?
Vader listened to her voice again, and again, the smile never leaving his face. Any thoughts of the rebels faded from his mind.
Finally, he found the patience to let the footage play. He watched as the secret keypad was discovered- Vader couldn't see her, but Padme was clearly the one who had found it. No one else could have guessed such a personal passcode on their first try, much less also have Vader's passkey with them.
Vader watched, heart trembling, as she discovered the secret stairwell that led to the small paradise he'd built for her.
The other security alerts, his thoughts saw fit to remind him.
Vader quickly glanced through the other messages- and found Padme was behind all of them. He watched the footage- although she remained invisible- as she made her way through the three other, redundant doors that kept her from her quarters. Vader smiled, listening to her softly curse with each incorrect entry on the keypads; he rejoiced in her triumphant laughter when she finally made it inside.
And Vader was content to watch the traces of her presence in their home: he quickly skimmed through the hours footage, pausing to watch as Padme caused a holoscreen to shift, a wooden door to swing open, a chair to shift its position.
He listened to her hum a gentle melody as she moved the dresses in the closet, even pulling one or two off the hangars and holding them up- and even as Vader treasured the precious recordings, he longed to see her face again.
At one point, Vader watched as a white dress was pulled from the closet, and floated into the 'fresher. Vader skimmed through the footage at a quick pace, and found that the 'fresher door opened roughly an hour later, and-
He jumped, as if struck by lightning. Padme walked into the bedroom, visible on holocams now, dressed in the long white gown- not the funeral dress she'd worn when first appearing to him.
Vader stretched out a trembling hand, tracing the curves of her cheek. He drew back only when his touch caused the hologram to flicker. He watched as she picked up his journal… and his heart ached for her as she cried, reading his letters to her. Vader wanted nothing more than to hold her hand, to promise her they would be together now, that everything would be alright….
His eyes widened as she suddenly scrambled to her feet. And moments later, Padmé collapsed atop the bed, unconscious.
Heart racing, Vader sped up the recording, fear tightening in his chest as he saw that over the past three hours, she hadn't moved once. And now he was looking at a live feed from the holocams: he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Padmé's chest subtly rise and fall. For a moment, Vader cradled his head- really, his helmet- in his gloved hands.
She's alive…. She's alright….
He would return home to his wife, not her corpse.
What if she's hurt?
Did Vader dare return to the castle now, hours early? He stared at the dark silhouette of the building before him.
Padmé had given him signs that she was already there, signs that she was ready for him to return- signs that Vader had nearly missed.
What if she had needed his help? What if that was why she tried to gain his attention- because she was hurt, or because her spirit didn't have the strength to remain there until midnight?
Ice ran through Vader's veins at that last thought. Adrenaline flooded through him as his speeder shot through the dark skies, racing for his castle's hangar bay.
The journey seemed to pass in mere instants, in a panicked, blurred haze. As Vader landed, he glanced down to the security hologram: Padmé was still in bed where she'd collapsed. She didn't move; she gave no sudden warning for Vader to leave, and return only at midnight.
Vader sprinted through the corridors, running harder than he ever had in his life. One frantic thought pulsed through his mind:
Not again. I can't lose her again.
Not again. Not again. Not again.
Please, Force, not again.
He impatiently rode the turbolift, opened the secret passages, and unlocked the many secure doors between him and his wife. He had meant to keep out those who would harm her, but now, he only kept himself from saving her.
At last, the final door opened, and Vader rushed into the bedroom. He stumbled to a halt just short of the doorway.
Padmé was there- right there, on the bed before him.
And she's alright.
He could sense her presence now: it was strong, and steady, if exhausted. She was not on the verge of death, as he had first feared.
Softly, not wishing to disturb her, Vader crossed the room. He took a seat on the bed, beside his angel. Hot tears slipped down Vader's cheeks as he brushed a gloved hand against her cheek.
"Padmé," he murmured, gently stroking her hair as he tried to wake her. His bride began to stir, pressing her cheek against his hand.
"Anakin…" she mumbled in her sleep.
"I'm here, beloved." Vader's voice trembled as he spoke. He sent her what strength he could through the Force. "It's alright. You're safe, Padmé, you're here with me."
Slowly, her caramel eyes fluttered open.
"Anakin?" She softly asked, and that simple word was the most beautiful sound Vader had ever heard.
