Easing forward in her pilot's seat, Padme flipped the switch to the loading ramp of their ship. As it slowly lowered, she turned in her chair to face Obi-Wan, who was sitting in the copilot's seat and still looking a bit green around the gills from their unexpected asteroid...adventure. She shook her head in mild amusement. "Ok. I've made this easy for you this time, Obi-Wan. I've included everything we need on your datapad." She instructed firmly, flicking her wrist at the device in his hands. "Everything on there is a necessity—make this your first priority before you go get the other ship. Remember, if you don't get something, that just means we'll have to come back for yet another shopping trip sooner rather than later. Got it?" She gave him a pointed look, her lips twisting wryly.
Honestly, Obi-Wan was awful at shopping, even for the necessities. Totally clueless. Anakin had never had a problem whenever she'd sent him out to the market, even if he went without Threepio or Artoo. He'd always managed to get whatever was needed and rarely forgot anything on the list. I miss him so much, the stolen thought crept in as she shook off the resurgence of old memories, her heart twinging with longing for a moment at what once was and couldn't be again.
Sighing, she acknowledged that, in the here and now, Obi-Wan's shopping attempts were at least improving...well, somewhat. Even though she'd had to cut him some slack at first because he'd never really had to shop before—everything he'd needed had always been given to him by the Jedi Order his entire life. But, now they were fugitives, and she, in particular, was a fugitive with a family to feed. Gandle Ott was so secluded, and thus scarcely populated, even for the Outer Rim that it was not exactly a great place to get everything that they needed. So, if they were running low on supplies, Padme would usually have Obi-Wan get the groceries while they were here in their usual port stop between missions on Daluuj, a planet in the Albanin sector of the Outer Rim, and she then went to get their second ship out of storage.
They had been provided two ships by the Rebellion, a Star Commuter 2000 and a VCX-100 Light Freighter. Both were modified for ultra fast speed, of course, with all the current shielding upgrades included, as well as other technological advancements (especially weapons upgrades), but they were different makes and models to try to divert any unwanted Imperial attention, and since Obi-Wan generally loathed flying and Padme was more naturally adept with piloting skills, she was the one who handled all the maintenance issues and most of the flying of their ships. That meant Obi-Wan had had to learn to be a bit more domestic, which- though a touch frustrating - was nonetheless amusing to watch.
But, now their first ship, the Star Commuter 2000, was damaged and in need of repairs, thanks to Vader's well placed shots to the rear stabilizer. If they didn't have it repaired before their next mission, the onboard computer indicated that it might not start back up again. Unfortunately, their second ship, the VCX-100 freighter and the market place were in a small, inconspicuous town here, and there were no ship repair shops in close proximity. They were actually lucky this town even had an adequate sized spaceport they could store their ship in while they were out on missions. But, without an available repair shop, Padme was forced to leave Obi-Wan to get the supplies and retrieve their second ship while she flew their Commuter 2000 to the nearest repair shop to get the rear stabilizer fixed. Unfortunately, it was in the next city over, a forty-five minute flight away. It was a risky move, but after she and Obi-Wan had argued about it for an hour, she managed to convince him that one person bringing in a damaged ship wouldn't be as memorable or conspicuous as two masked people bringing in a damaged ship. He could fly over and pick her up once he'd gotten everything purchased and loaded onto their VCX freighter.
"Fine, fine," Obi-Wan grumbled unhappily, rubbing his temples agitatedly, "But...you be careful. Do not hesitate to call me on the secure comm line if you run into any trouble." The look he shot her was pointed.
"Yes, Master," came her cheeky reply, which earned her a glower from those blue-green eyes and a muttered, "Incorrigible Skywalkers," as Obi-Wan stood from his seat and exited the cockpit.
Smirking, her eyes twinkling with mischief at the Jedi Master (no wonder Anakin had always enjoyed goading him. It was just too easy) Padme nodded resignedly, already turning back to the control panel and refiring the engines. Obi-Wan was only stating the obvious, of course. Daluuj had more of an Imperial presence than Gandle Ott (which had almost none and was why it was chosen as their hideout), what with its Imperial Training Center, but that was in the capital city of Oldranai on the other side of the planet. This side of Daluuj didn't have enough of a presence so that it was particularly dangerous. She'd been on plenty of treacherous, well-guarded, Imperial controlled planets since she'd started her work as an assassin. Still, she couldn't blame Obi-Wan for being overly cautious. They had, after all, just been chased by Darth Vader only mere hours before.
And barely escaped.
She quickly shoved that thought away. No. She wouldn't think about it. One step at a time. Get these repairs done, get restocked, and then she could get back home to her kids and her mother and just take some much needed time off to be with them and clear her head.
The moment Obi-Wan exited the ship, she pushed the switch to close the ramp, and then took off towards the next city. What would have taken days by foot or land speeder took Padme only about forty-five minutes of flying over the barren canyons of the desert planet below her. It wasn't a desert planet like Tatooine was with its never ending sea of sand, but it was still not an environment that she would ever want to be stranded in. She avoided looking down at the ground below her, for every time she did, she was strongly reminded of the sweet little boy she'd met on Tatooine all those years ago…
The city wasn't even really a city—rather just a slightly bigger town. It was all industrialized, with plenty of factories and mechanic shops scattered about the landscape. The only beings that really lived here were employees of the various businesses represented. Most people lived on the fringes of the city, or in other surrounding towns, and would only take day trips to the city whenever they needed something from it. As Padme flew in low over the city skyline, looking for the right mechanic shop she had researched and found on the Holonet long before now, just in case something like this were to happen, she couldn't help but notice, with some concern, the multiple Stormtroopers visible out patrolling the streets below. She scowled, but didn't put too much thought into it. This was an Imperial controlled sector, she reminded herself. It was normal for Stormtroopers to be out and about in this city. It would actually be suspicious if they weren't there. Someday, that would change. Stormtroopers would be no more, and the Republic would return, this time steadfast and strong.
She would make sure of that.
Finally, she found it on the outskirts of town, setting the ship down easily in front of the complex. Before she shut down power, she made sure to wipe the ship's log and all related information as to where they'd actually traveled on this mission, replacing the data with falsified information provided by the Rebellion. Once that was done, she powered down the ship, feeling the ship shudder, confirming her worries that it needed immediate repairs. "Well," she muttered to herself, as she stood and made her way off the ship, "At least we made it here in one piece. Thank the Force."
Briefly, she thought that if only Anakin were here, he would have been able to fix the ship at little to no cost...and quickly. But, she reminded herself bitterly, her face twisting with a grimace, it had been Vader that had damaged the ship in the first place…How ironic! A perfectly diametric description present in this situation of the two vastly different men who happened to occupy the same body.
One took pride in fixing things—the other took pride in destroying things.
When she stepped off the loading ramp, she was buffeted by a sweltering desert breeze, which whipped and tugged at her black cloak as she walked over to the loading bays to be greeted by an oily Besalisk. At first, she stopped dead in her tracks because, for a brief moment, he reminded her so much of Dexter that she thought it was him at first. But, no, this Besalisk was darker skinned, and a bit thinner, though not by much. "Greetins, Friend." He said, eyeing her hood, cloak, and her mask warily. She knew that the mask was a bit suspicious, but she also didn't want to risk being identified. "Ship need fixin?"
"It does." She kept her voice low and cool in the carefully accented way she usually spoke to those who didn't know her true identity beneath the mask. Vocal alteration had been impressed upon her as a necessary tool in the assassin trade, and one that she had utilized frequently - and successfully - since beginning her training. This allowed her to travel throughout the galaxy without having an identifiable voice marker. Besides, she had been a well-known public figure for so long, it wasn't just her face that was recognizable. Her own natural voice could have been just as easily recognized as well. Though she doubted this Besalisk was all that interested in Inter-Galactic politics, she couldn't take the risk of finding out. "Got into a scuffle with some pirates. Damaged my rear stabilizer. Think you can fix it?"
His eyes narrowed, and she knew what he was doing—he was sizing her up. Deciding on how much he was going to demand of her to pay. But, she was no easy mark. Casually, she shifted her cloak so that the twin blasters on her hips were visible. She saw his eyes flicker there, and they hardened with decision. "I can repair it...for a price." He said, predictably.
"Of course. As long as it's a fair price." She quirked an eyebrow at him, staring him straight in the eye, her look one that warned she wasn't to be trifled with.
The price he started out at was reasonable, but still a bit too pricey. Clearly, he wasn't taking chances with her. Good, she thought, as she haggled a better deal. His hesitation meant that the getup she wore was working: It not only concealed her identity, but it also made her appear menacing. And, to be frank, she certainly was menacing, quite capable of killing this creature in a split second right where he stood...and he'd never see it coming. After all, she was an assassin now.
And, a good one.
Finally, they agreed on a price. Padme paid half of it up front, with the other half due upon completion of the repairs. "When do ya need it dun by?" The Besalisk asked.
"Two weeks." She answered. Two weeks, and she'd be back on another mission.
The Besalisk nodded. "It'll be done."
With that settled, Padme turned and left the shop property, exiting out onto the cracked and unkempt street, heading for the junkyard where she would meet Obi-Wan. Already, the heat of the day was practically baking the ground, and being in all black, and with an outfit that covered her whole body other than her eyes, she was soon sticky with sweat. She took one sniff, and found that she didn't smell that great either. I could sure use a shower, she thought but shook her head and tried not to focus on it too much, and instead paid attention to her surroundings. There were some citizens mulling about, though they were focused on their own tasks and didn't bother to pay her any attention, which was fine by her. Stormtroopers patrolled the street, as they usually did, and occasionally they'd give her a curious look, but none of them investigated. This was the Outer Rim, after all. Shady figures far worse appearing than her lurked on planets like this.
Still, she casually quickened her step, anxious to get to the meeting place so that she could get into a climate-controlled ship again. The first thing she would do when she got home, after giving her children hugs and kisses of course, was take a long, cold shower. Ice cold. She normally hated cold showers, but after today...
She rounded a corner and almost stopped. Was it just her imagination, or were there an alarmingly high number of Stormtroopers present on this particular street? Yes, she decided, forcing herself to act natural and keep walking. There were. She was not a Jedi. She did not have the ability to tell just by reaching out with her feelings whether or not she was in significant danger. Still, Yoda had taught her to trust her instincts, that the Force could guide and help her if she trusted in it…and right now, all her instincts were telling her that she was walking into a trap.
She couldn't turn around though and go the other way. That would be an obvious indicator that she was up to no good, had something to hide. Her eyes began to scan the street for any avenue she could use to casually escape, but as far as she could see, this street was well guarded, almost as if they'd expected her to come down this route.
Kriff.
The buildings were built close together, with gaps between them that were too small for her to escape through. Still, she continued to search, sweeping her gaze left and right, up and down, as she walked, vividly aware that Stormtroopers were attempting to imperceptibly begin to patrol closer towards her, and the fact that the last of the civilians on that street had seemed to disappear into their homes. Part of her brain began to scream at her that she was trapped and to just give in and surrender now. But, Padme wouldn't go down without a fight. No. She refused to willingly submit to the Empire.
She would die to protect the Rebellion - even by her own hand, if necessary - before she was captured.
So, she kept walking casually, acting like she was too oblivious, or too stupid, to notice that the street was full of Stormtroopers. Already, she was calculating what her odds would be if she fought back. She swept the street with her eyes again. She had no cover to duck behind. The street was too open —she would be shot to pieces before she got very far. She could only deflect so many blaster bolts with her lightsaber. She considered contacting Obi-Wan on the comm, but she could feel herself being watched and thus, discarded the idea. That would be too obvious…Obi-Wan's not going to like this, she thought, already dreading the lecture she knew would be forthcoming.
That's when she saw it.
There! A gap between two buildings. She was just barely small enough to slip through it, and even with her diminutive form, it would still be a tight squeeze. She stopped abruptly, casually leaning down as if she needed to adjust the buckles of her boots.
"Stop right there." An almost mechanical voice ordered from behind her. She froze, though her hand was now on the hilt of her blaster. "Stand up. Slowly." She did as she was ordered, moving slow, her muscles tensing and ready to spring into the gap next to her. "Turn around!" She did so, also slowly, deliberately, keeping the corner of her eye on the gap. There were only two Stormtroopers standing there behind her, pointing their blasters at her. The other squadrons of troopers were beginning to slow their pace and close in. Inwardly, she cursed again, this time in Huttese. She was going to have to move lightning fast. "Put your hands up!"
"Sure," she said casually, bringing her left hand from beneath her cloak…and shot both troopers in the chest at near point blank range with two quick, perfectly precise shots. At this distance, their armor didn't stand a chance, and they were blown backwards from the force of the impact onto the pavement, dead. She didn't wait to see that though—her other hand ignited the lightsaber she had also grabbed from her belt, igniting it and whirling, deflecting the barrage of blaster shots that instantly erupted. She barely managed it, though, before she backed toward the gap and then squeezed herself into it, turning the lightsaber off so that she could concentrate on scooching as fast as possible through the gap and out to the other street.
It started off fine—she could hear the troopers rushing to the gap, and she knew she only had seconds—but right as her upper torso escaped the gap, half of her freed, her hips got stuck. "Sith's spit!" She hissed. Sure, she had lost most of the baby fat from having the twins, but the last of it seemed stuck in her breasts and hips, both of which certainly were a lot more rounded than they'd been before she'd been pregnant. She normally didn't mind like most women seemed to, but right now, when she was stuck and running for her life, she did mind.
Dammit!
A blaster shot, fired at her from behind, just barely missed her. Desperately, she pressed both gloved hands on either side of her, bracing against the two buildings she was stuck between, and, sucking in her gut as much as she could, she heaved with all her might until she was finally, barely, able to squeeze through the opening. The sudden freedom from her constricted position caused her to fall forward into the street, where she awkwardly rolled to her feet and scrambled away from the opening. Blaster shots were firing wildly into the gap she had slipped through, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they circled around and blocked both ends of the street she was now on. That trick wouldn't keep working, and next time, she really might get trapped. She had to find another way to escape. Looking toward the rooftops, she understood immediately where she had to go.
Up.
She had barely thought the word before she was grabbing the window sill of the building she was pressed against, leaping with mild effort to the next hand hold on the building. Thankfully, one of the assassins she had trained under taught her thoroughly on how to scale buildings...in any environment or circumstance. Thanking the Force for that man's knowledge and tutelage, she used those skills now, grabbing onto window sills, then a drainage pipe, as well as other chipped dents in the wall to make her way quickly up the side of the building, and soon she was rolling clear onto the flattened roof, breathing heavily from the exertion, completely drenched with sweat inside her assassin's garb.
She didn't stop though, even though her entire exhausted body screamed at her to do so. She couldn't, or she'd risk being killed, or worse, captured. She had to make it back to her children. They needed her…the Rebellion needed her. She began to run, practically flying across the rooftops, jumping from building to building. From below, blasters were fired at her from the streets. The Stormtroopers had been quick to loop around the block, and glancing over her shoulder and down, she saw that she had been right to escape to the rooftops. The streets were swarming with troopers, and they were all after her.
She picked up her pace even more, continuing to leap between buildings, each breath feeling like fire in her lungs. She heard shouts as troopers tried to climb up onto the roof to follow her, but in their clumsy white armor, most of them failed. Soon, however, there were a few who had been successful in reaching the roof, and they began to awkwardly lumber after her, firing and missing her as she ducked and dodged. She considered stopping and fighting, but she wasn't in a good position. So, she scanned the area around her, looking for a good place to make her stand while she waited for Obi-Wan…
There.
The end of the street dead-ended with a large metal fence. Beyond that fence lay the junkyard she was supposed to meet Obi-Wan in. Given that she was on the rooftops, she would easily bypass the gate while the Stormtroopers below had to either find a way over it, around it, or through it. She could use the junkyard as a place to lose most of them, and she could take out the ones she didn't lose while she contacted Obi-Wan.
She forced herself to speed up, and as she reached the last building, she whirled, pulling one of her heavy Corellian blasters out again and shooting the troopers on the roof quickly and with ease. They went down, all head shots. Smirking, she would have taken a moment to be a little proud of her quick work, but she didn't have time. Already, the Stormtroopers below were trying to cut through the fence, while others continued to shoot at her. She ducked their blasts, running to the edge of the roof…and stopping. The wall of the building had no hand holds that she could see. She scanned it again, refusing to believe that there wasn't a way down, and found another drainage pipe that ran down the edge of the building. It was close to the Stormtroopers, yes, but if she was quick enough…
Hell, she'd make it work.
Ducking yet more blaster shots, she carefully climbed over the edge of the building, holding onto the edge with a tight grip. Using her hands, she scooted left over to the drainage pipe, hanging on the side of the building with nothing but her hands, and grabbed hold of it. Immediately, she began to slide down, the leather of her gloves growing uncomfortably warm from the friction. But, she didn't dare slow down, however. Blaster fire was everywhere, many bolts narrowly missing her. If she slowed down, she was dead, and…
BANG!
A laser bolt hit the metal above her head, melting away a chunk of the pipe. She certainly wasn't heavy by any means, but still, under her weight, the pipe groaned and shook, and as she drew nearer to the ground, it abruptly tore away from the building. Suddenly no longer in a controlled descent, she found herself hurtling the last few feet towards the ground in a freefall, the metal pipe screeching after her.
Her scream stuck in her throat, coming out more like a sharp gasp. A split second later, she hit the ground feet first before collapsing in a heap, and pain immediately lanced through her ankle and up her leg. She cried out involuntarily and then bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, to keep from crying out in even more pain. She could hear the Stormtroopers trying to get through the metal fence, but so far, she was alone in the junkyard.
Looking around at her surroundings, she paused to get her bearings, catch her breath, and allow the pain radiating through her leg to subside some, she could see spare ship parts were cast haphazardly into random piles. Giant hunks of metal stuck out of the mountains of trash like monuments to ancient, forgotten ships. Really, there was no true way for her to tell if she was alone. She was no Jedi. She couldn't sense the presences of others.
No. She had to get up. She had to keep going, find a hiding place to safely contact Obi-Wan. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed herself to her feet, the move causing waves of pain to crawl up her body, so sharp it momentarily sucked the breath from her lungs. As she settled on her feet, she felt sharp, stinging pain shooting up her leg, but she forced herself to ignore it. She had to. She wasn't free yet. She could wallow in pain (and a bacta tank if needed) later, but she didn't think anything was broken. Sprained, probably. Bruised, certainly. But not broken. A good thing.
She began to stumble forward, one hand still brandishing her blaster, while the other stayed close to her lightsaber. She wandered for a few minutes, trying to find a good secure place to hide, going deeper and deeper into the rather substantial sized junkyard. Each corner she turned, she imagined that a Stormtrooper squad would be waiting there to intercept her, but so far, each time it was empty and silent. Hmm...
Too silent.
She paused, her instincts screaming at her that something was sounds of the Stormtroopers were gone. That was...odd. No blaster shots. No shouts for assistance. No sounds of cutting metal from the entryway. This was not good. Her instincts were screaming at her to get out of there somehow, some way. It didn't matter. Where is Obi-Wan? She thought frantically…and then remembered. She hadn't contacted him yet. "Damn and blast!," she swore, reaching down to the comm link at her belt. She'd have to hold off the troopers for forty-five minutes, at least. It was not a pleasant thought…How do I get myself into these messes? She wondered to herself.
That's when she heard it.
The steady, mechanical breathing that she had only heard about in stories from those who had been around him in that awful suit...and lived to tell the tale. Her entire body froze, tensing, realizing that there was literally nowhere for her to run. Not from him. Not anymore. Shit!
He'd found her.
Despite Daluuj being an Outer Rim planet with few resources, it hadn't been all that hard to set the trap. Once he'd realized where their damaged ship was heading, likely for repairs to the rear stabilizer he'd hit, it had been fairly easy to increase Stormtrooper squads in the area. After all, this was an Imperial controlled planet. When he'd contacted the Lieutenant at the Imperial Training Center in Oldranai, the capital city, with the order, the man had been so frantic at the thought of Vader coming to personally apprehend someone in their sector, he'd practically fallen all over himself to get his men out of their barracks and into the troop transports to make the trip to the other side of the planet and thus into the streets of this town to await their...hunted prey. At least, when Vader circled the city from above in his TIE fighter after coming out of hyperspace, and observed the street below where the trap was to take place, that's what it seemed like. Everything was going according to his plan.
Perfect.
He was sure that every Stormtrooper in that city had been placed on the street, augmented by the arrival of the additional squadrons of troops from the training center. Still, he hadn't been concerned. He preferred his target caught alive, but if they died…well, he certainly would enjoy Kenobi's death for sure, though he preferred it to be at his own hands. And, as for this intriguing assassin, if he had to forego getting his answers from her about her...at least he could report truthfully to the Emperor that she had been taken care of, and then he could go back to his primary objective of ridding the galaxy of the remaining Jedi and crushing the Rebellion.
Using the Force, he looked for a place to set his TIE fighter down. It wasn't long before the Force pulled at him, bringing him to hover over a junkyard at the very far end of where the trap would take place. He frowned. Perhaps he misunderstood. Why would he need to set his ship down in a dilapidated old junkyard? The Force tugged at him again, harder this time, and he scowled, but nevertheless, obeyed. If the Force was that insistent…
By the time he had landed and powered his TIE fighter down, his comm pinged. He glanced at the display and let out an irritated sigh before he answered. "You'd better have good news, Lieutenant." He snarled at the image of the blatantly quivering man.
"Y-Yes Sir," The man stammered, as he performed a salute. "The trap is under way, Lord Vader. She tried to escape to the next street over, but we're close on her heels, Sir."
"Good." Vader rumbled, and paused. "Was she with anyone?"
"No, Lord Vader," The man shook his head. "She appears to be alone."
Damn. Where the hell had Kenobi gotten to? Then again, he highly doubted Kenobi had expected them to be followed, they had fled from Kauron through the asteroid field so quickly. Perhaps Obi-Wan had wandered off, leaving the assassin alone to bring their ship in for repairs. This seemed out of character for the Jedi. Kenobi was obviously...close to this woman, and he'd always been a rather gallant fellow in times past. No matter. He would not be long away, Vader was sure of it. The moment he sensed that his ally was in danger, he would come running.
And, I will be there to end him when he arrives, Vader thought, as a feral grin spread across his face. "Do not lose her, Lieutenant, " Vader snapped, "And…" He broke off as a feeling of severe pain suddenly broke through his mental shields. He was used to those around him being in pain. He'd been a warrior for so long, it seemed like he was destined to be surrounded by the pain of others his whole life, to bask in it, to draw strength from it.
But this…this was different. And way, way too familiar. No. It couldn't be...Could it?
His heart leapt into his throat. He let out a shuddering breath, the air whooshing out of his lungs in shock. Distantly, he could hear the Lieutenant asking what was wrong over the commlink, but he ignored it. Instead, he stretched out with the Force, looking for the source of that pain that had begun to fade into something manageable…
And, he found her. Her presence.
It was the same as he remembered it, and yet…different at the same time. More fragile. Like the bright shining light it had once been was somehow weakening, flickering, due to fade out at any moment and be surrounded by abject darkness. He stopped breathing, checking again, then double checking, then triple checking—each time, he recognized her presence instantly. It was beautifully refreshing, just as she'd always been to him. He would know her anywhere. Already, his heart, his soul, felt like it was coming alive again, breaking loose from the bonds of hell he had been encased in, for the first time in two long lonely years.
Padme. His Angel. His Wife.
"Stand down!" His yelled, his voice was harsh, sounding monstrously loud through the mask. He couldn't let those idiotic Stormtroopers anywhere near her! He could already feel that she'd been injured...but Force, she was dead! She had to be dead! This had to be a dream! Ok, a weird and totally surreal one, but a dream nonetheless! He'd been present at her funeral, for Kriff's sake!
The hologram of the Lieutenant blinked in surprise. "I'm…W-what, Sir?"
Vader fixed the full weight of the black, terrifying stare of the mask of Darth Vader on the man. "Stand. Down. Now. That is an order, Lieutenant."
"Y-Yes, Lord Vader. At once, Sir!" The transmission cut, and Vader used the Force to open the hatch to his TIE fighter, leaping effortlessly out of it in one graceful move. The moment his boots hit the ground, he was striding purposefully towards the presence that was…well, at least an almost identical copy of hers. Yes, that was it. It had to be a copy. A clone, maybe? But…No. He'd met clones, worked with clones for years, and this wasn't the same thing. So, what then? An imposter? That couldn't be it either, because it was literally impossible to fake a Force Presence, even for those not Force Sensitive.
But, how could he be sensing this? Why was he sensing this? She was dead! He'd seen her funeral procession with his own two eyes! He'd felt their Force connection snap with her death after Mustafar. If she'd somehow lived after that, shouldn't he have found her much sooner than this?
He had to find out.
He followed the presence deeper and deeper into the junkyard, winding through a maze of heaping trash piles, feeling the Force surging stronger through him with each step he took. He could feel her pain, her worry, her fear and desperation to get out of there. None of that fully registered in his brain—No, he had to confirm she was real, because she shouldn't have been real. It was some sort of a trick. It just had to be. Yes, an elaborate hoax meant to torment him and increase his mental and emotional anguish, and he swore that if this was a trick concocted by Sidious as a stupid test of loyalty, he'd fly straight to Coruscant and murder the Sith Lord himself!
The presence suddenly stopped moving, as he was beginning to catch up. He sped up, turning round the last corner…and halted in his tracks. There she…whoever she really was….stood, her slender back turned to him. He swept her petite form from head to toe with his gaze...and he had to admit...he'd have to blind not to notice how alluringly shaped her body was, as the black body-hugging outfit she wore left little to his imagination.
The Force suddenly swept through his body in a surcharged pulse so strong it nearly dropped him to his knees, and he felt the first real stirrings of physical desire he'd had since the last time he'd made love to Padme, before Mustafar. His blood pounded in his veins, his breathing hitched, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks, as a fine bead of sweat broke out across his upper lip. The breathing apparatus that automatically started whenever he put the mask on was the only sound in the silence that stretched out between them. He desperately wanted to take the offensive mask off, to show her that he still lived, that he still loved her so very much…but he still wasn't sure if it was really her or not.
Eternity.
That's what it felt like as he watched, and felt, her body tense when she realized exactly who it was behind her. She was wearing that all black cloak that covered her head. He felt her intense fear shudder through her...and her unbelievable anger, which stunned him in its intensity. These were emotions that he couldn't quite put with Padme, and yet if it was her…Well, he had a lot of questions to be answered.
And, a lot of explaining to do.
Suddenly, she whirled on him, firing off multiple shots from her blaster at him. Shocked, by both her speed and skill and the fact that she would attack him, he barely moved in time to react, using a Force-shield to block and absorb the blasts. She kept firing, despite it doing no damage to him whatsoever. Irritated more than he was angry, as if he were swatting away flies rather than blaster shots, he used the Force to rip the blaster from her hand, calling it into his own. Glancing at it, he was surprised to find it was a Corellian made heavy duty blaster...a far heavier and more powerful weapon than what Padme had always carried before. She had come packing some heat. That was not his wife's style.
Still, if ripping her blaster from her hand shocked her, she didn't show it. Immediately, she whipped out a lightsaber, igniting it with the familiar snap-hiss, the brilliant blue blade roaring to life. Even at this distance, Vader could see the blue light illuminating those rich dark brown eyes…just like hers had always been…
She charged at him.
He snapped himself out of his flustered stupor just in time to dodge her. She whooshed past him with an agility he was impressed by, and as she did, he reached out towards her, using the Force to pull the hood down off her head, revealing thick hair braided carefully down her back, the same hue of chestnut brown that Padme's had been…
He felt another spike of fear and desperation shudder through her.
She pivoted, the mask still firmly over her face, and she expertly twirled and brandished the blue bladed saber high over her head, bringing it down in an arc towards him. He used the Force to call his own lightsaber to his hand, igniting it just in time to block hers. For a moment, they stayed locked like that, her eyes, hatred swirling in their depths, meeting his through the mask. Vader was momentarily stunned...at both the enmity and malice in those beautiful brown orbs, as well as the powerful physical strength and prowess she exhibited, as she easily held their sabers locked. She was toned. She was trained. Another wave of desire surged hot and primal through him, and he couldn't stop the animalistic growl that rumbled forth from his chest.
No wonder he wanted her.
Momentarily, his gaze slipped to the lightsaber she wielded—Force! Was that his lightsaber?! Dammit! Yes, it certainly was! He'd know that lightsaber anywhere! It had been an extension of himself at one point in his life not to long ago, a part of his very soul. He'd crafted it with such care after the harrowing mission he'd gone on to find that blue crystal in the first place. How did she have it? Where did she get it from? Ahhh, yes…
Kenobi. He must have given it to her after he'd stolen it from him on Mustafar! And, taught her how to use it, obviously.
She jumped away from him suddenly, disengaging. Oh, no you don't...He wouldn't let her get away. He had to know. He used the Force to close the distance between them rapidly. She yelped as he did so, trying to scramble back away from, to block him with her...his saber…But, his gloved hand was already reaching up toward her face, grasping her mask, and yanking it off. There was some resistance, but he managed to pull it off, revealing the face underneath it.
He simply stared at the truth in her face.
His whole world stopped as the breathtakingly beautiful countenance of the woman he'd so dearly loved almost his entire life was revealed to him once again. It was the face of the woman he still dreamed about whenever he did actually sleep. It was the face of the woman who haunted his memories. It was the face of the woman who had once been - and technically still was, he assumed - his wife and his lover, in secret. It was the face of the woman who had once been his only source of light in the darkest, most painful moments of his life.
It was the face of the woman he'd betrayed. The face of the woman he'd thought he'd killed.
And yet…Here she stood before him. Alive. Breathing. Still incredibly beautiful, breathtakingly so. Glaring at him with such malevolence (and fear), but still alive. The blue lightsaber that had once been his hummed in her hand. He felt his love for her reverberate throughout his entire body. His beloved wife was alive! "Padme," he breathed, though it came out distorted and deep through his vocalizer.
With just that one word, her face twisted and contorted with a menacing snarl. "Padme is dead." She spat out through clenched teeth, as she rushed at him again, and he barely had enough sense to block her attacks. Astounded at her amazing level of skill with the weapon, she swung at him hard and fast with a rapid fire series of moves he found himself struggling to keep up with…moves that Yoda himself would have been proud of...his, no her lightsaber smashing against his red one. He blocked each slash of her blade, but it was all instinctual. He wasn't fighting back, merely stopping her from harming either of them. There was no brutality there normally was when he wielded a blade. He couldn't help it. He just…stared at her. She was alive.
His Angel.
His Padme.
His wife.
And, she was dueling him with a lightsaber...almost as well as any Jedi or Sith he'd ever crossed blades with before. And, she was trying to kill him! He realized then that she must not know who he really was. Dimly, he remembered Obi-Wan had been with her on that ship (Force, he'd almost tried to blow her ship to shreds!). He was sure that Obi-Wan must have told her he was dead after Mustafar. He should have been angry with the idea of her being with Obi-Wan, and deep down, he probably was, but at the moment, all he was, was just shocked. It was a miracle of the Force she hadn't run him through yet.
Using the Force, he gently pushed her back, not wanting to harm her further. He heard her hiss in pain, and he felt her pain, too. He felt bad, but he had to create enough space between that so that he could let her know it was him. Before she could launch herself back at him in a fresh wave of fury, he reached up, finding the edges of his helmet, and pulled it off with a snap hiss. Real fresh, though still uncomfortably warm, air hit his face for the first time in years. The breathing apparatus stopped. His unruly, long blonde curls, sweaty at the moment, bounced in the wind, tendrils sweeping across his forehead and cheeks. He met Padme's wide paralyzed eyes, and dropped the mask to the ground. Neither of them moved for the span of multiple heartbeats.
In that moment, he wasn't Vader. He was Anakin, and he was staring at his beautiful, beloved, and somehow still alive, wife. "Padme," His voice, his real voice, full of love and longing, breathed out her name like a caress on the wind. She was frozen, and her emotions were so wild and convoluted that he couldn't quite catch all of them. "Angel! I thought….I felt you die!"
Padme's mouth twitched, just barely. "I did die," She snarled viciously, and though her voice was so familiar, so achingly familiar that it tore his heart to shreds, it was also filled with so much hostility that it was almost staggering. "I died the night I lost my husband to you!"
Anakin shook his head fervently, his curls bouncing around his forehead. "No, Angel," he insisted, "Don't you see? I'm right here! I'm alive, Sweetheart!" He made a move toward her, his arms outstretched to embrace her.
"What I see," Padme replied bitterly, her nostrils flaring, face full of loathing, "Is the evil man who took over the body of the good man I married. My husband is dead! You are not my husband!"
Then she launched herself forward, unleashing such a furious barrage of attacks with her…his lightsaber, that in his stunned state, he barely blocked her. Her words kept ricocheting in his head, round and round: You are not my husband. You are not my husband. You are not my husband!
Yes, I am your husband! I still love you!, he wanted so badly to argue. How could she say that he wasn't her husband?! He was Anakin Skywalker, dammit, and they'd married…
Oh. Wait.
No, he wasn't the same man she'd married, was he? No. He was Vader now. Anakin Skywalker had died the moment Padme Amidala Skywalker had died.
But yet…here she was. Alive and currently trying very hard to end his own life.
In that instant, he became aware of another presence coming upon them…fast. He barely recognized it, so focused was he on Padme. But, as the presence was practically on top of them, he finally noticed.
Obi-Wan.
He glanced up for a millisecond into the sky. There was another ship. There was nothing noticeable about it. There were literally millions of ships like that in the galaxy. A VCX light freighter, he noted. The loading ramp was opening in midair, as if…His breath hitched as he realized what Obi-Wan was trying to do.
He was trying to take Padme away from him again! Just like before!
Desperately, Anakin tried to disarm her, but she was already beginning to retreat. "No!" He screamed, pleading with her not to leave, his eyes meeting hers, "Don't go, Angel! Please! Not now, not after…"
There was a slight hesitation in those beautiful brown eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by determination. He recognized that look. He'd seen it in her eyes many, many times before. As he rushed for her, she reached to her belt, brandishing something small and black and…
She threw it on the ground between them.
Thick, pungent smoke filled the air, choking him, making him cough. Without his mask and its inbuilt filtration system, it entered his nose and his eyes, making them water, blinding him, making it impossible for him to breathe. Still, he tried to move to grab her, tried to get to her…But, Obi-Wan had already moved the ship close enough for her to jump up onto the ramp. He was already taking off. As the distance to the ground increased, she still stood there on the ramp, impassively, her face in a neutral mask, holding onto one of the poles that adjusted it, staring at him, his lightsaber still ignited and lighting her in a blue glow as the ship sped away across the barren terrain.
"PADME!" He roared, running futilely after it.
He didn't catch it. And it didn't come back. He'd found her, only to lose her again.
And, that's when it hit him. Padme was the assassin. Padme was the one killing Imperials. Padme was the one who had convinced Obi-Wan to abandon his noble, high and mighty ideals, to join her in this crusade.
His Padme had chosen to become his enemy. But, not for long.
As he stared at her fleeing ship, growing smaller as it raced away from him toward the atmosphere above, he vowed that he would get his wife back.
And, nothing and no one in the galaxy would keep them apart this time.
I know it's been a while since I last updated, but I had writers block. I knew what I wanted to have happen, but I wasn't sure how to achieve it. So... this was the result.
Obviously, Vader/Anakin was in shock. If he wasn't, the fight would have ended very differently.
The songs for this are: The Pit of Carkoon/Sail Barage Assault by John Williams and The Winter Soldier from the movie The Winter Soldier.
Review! Let me know what you thought!
Love,
Sarah
