Jedha.

Padme stared down at it through the viewport, her mind wondering what it was like down there. The arid desert moon was one of the most tightly locked-down planets in all the Empire. No one knew why-yet. Any spy they'd sent down there was usually never heard from again. They never made it back to Rebel Command. If she didn't have children at home, she may have attempted to go find out what the hell was going on down there for herself. But, that wasn't the mission. Their mission was more immediate, and demanded attention now. Lives were at stake.

Literally.

They hid far enough away to be possibly visibly spotted by someone from one of the massive Imperial star destroyers orbiting the moon, their ship shut down to avoid being caught on any scanners. Obi-Wan sat at the controls, his eyes closed, waiting for the moment when the supply ship would emerge from the moon's surface, and they could attach onto it right before it did it's hyperspace jump. Padme sat in the co-pilot's seat, her arms hugging her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on it as she stared down at the moon. "You know this planet used to be a holy site for the Jedi, don't you?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked into the pervading silence of the cockpit.

Padme didn't say anything for a moment. Only continued to watch the moon below, her mind wandering back to...him. "I know," her answer came quietly. She didn't say how she knew. She didn't need to. Anakin had told her so much about the Jedi, and a lot about the more mysterious things of their Order. Jedha, and it's powerful connection to the Force, was one of those things he'd shared with her. The thought of him, as it had in the two weeks it had been since that cursed tango dance on her last mission, sent her mind whirling back to the feel of his arms around her, his scent in her nostrils...the way his hands had made her shiver and ache for more. So much more. Memories had flooded her of the good times. Unconsciously, unbidden, unwanted. Even as her mind feverishly reminded her body over and over again that the man who had held her was a lie. Anakin was dead...and those golden eyes of his had proven it.

The ache was a near physical thing and almost unbearable.

That dance had changed something within her.

She wasn't the same now, and she knew it. She had worked so hard since she'd lost her husband to think of him as truly dead. The thought that he had turned into Darth Vader, her greatest enemy…it was unconscionable. And, that tango two weeks before had forced her to confront the truth in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for: Anakin and Darth Vader were one and the same. Just like he'd said. Perhaps...perhaps it had always been that way, and she'd willfully chosen to ignore it. The thought had plagued her for the last two weeks, had haunted her every step. Her nightly dreams were full of his hands on her body, his lips at her ear, his golden eyes staring so intently into her own, demanding she recognize who and what he was, what he'd become. It always ended with her involuntarily admitting, "Anakin."

Then the tears would flow. Again.

She rarely slept more than a few hours a night anymore. She forced herself to eat, if only so that Obi-Wan and Yoda, her mother and her sister, would leave her be and let her continue her missions. And, of course, for her children, who could sense the change in her mood and were just as on edge as she was now. She still had a headache from the last tantrum she'd had to settle between the twins before she'd left on this mission.

When they'd gotten into the ship and left that night, Obi-Wan had asked her a question that she hadn't dared answer. "Why? Why did you two decide to risk it all, together?" He had never asked that before. Had probably assumed it was just love, and they'd been too weak and foolhardy to fight against it, while he'd never once faltered in his Jedi duty despite loving Satine. At that moment, she couldn't answer.

And yet, as they waited and the silence stretched on around them, so many words unspoken between them, Padme found herself wanting….no, needing to speak. Perhaps doing so would calm the raging hole in her chest, threatening to eat her alive. "I was always someone who put duty above herself. Duty came first. Always. Personal feelings or needs were ignored for the greater good. That concept had been drilled into me practically my entire life on Naboo. First as Queen, then as Senator." She said, her voice tight and rough, as though she hadn't spoken in days. Obi-Wan turned to stare at her with his blue-green eyes, listening intently, thoughtfully, stroking his beard in contemplation of her words.

He didn't need to ask what she was starting to say. He knew. "My sister always joked that I'd never bother to settle down, because I threw myself so wholeheartedly into what I needed to do for my people. But, deep down, I always wanted a family of my own. I was jealous of my sister, being so carefree, able to have two beautiful girls and a husband who could provide her with love, safety, and happiness. I never thought I'd have time for that, and if I did, the risks of being with a rather controversial senator would be too much for any man to be willing to endure. But then...you and Anakin walked into my apartment, and the moment my eyes met Anakin's...I knew I was done for.

"I resisted, of course. We both did…We both tried. Even Anakin really tried. He loved being a Jedi. He didn't want to disappoint you-Force, he was terrified of that. But, I think...I think Anakin wanted a family before he ever wanted to be a Jedi. First with his mother-a family in freedom. Then, when he met me…" She paused, laughing a bitter laugh. "He told me when we first met in Watto's shop on Tatooine that he'd marry me one day. I just thought he was a sweet but funny little boy, but...maybe something in the Force just told him we were destined to marry, and he accepted it immediately, without question. And then, as a man, when he came back in my life after ten years apart...I started to wonder if he was right. But, you're not wrong, Obi-Wan. There were so, so many stupid risks in doing what we did. It's something I never would have done in any other circumstance. In fact, we initially decided against it. Like I said, we both fought the attraction and love we felt for each other. But, when we were faced with death in the arena on Geonosis, I…" she shook her head, and she felt tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

"I realized I was tired of living only for duty. That wasn't...life, Obi-Wan. That wasn't really living. It was merely existing. It gave me a sense of purpose, a sense of satisfaction that what I was doing was noble and necessary, yes, but besides that, my life was devoid of any real happiness. I was empty inside, a mere shell of a person, alive and breathing but not truly living. While Anakin always did his duty, he also lived life to the fullest. He wasn't afraid of his emotions and didn't try to squelch them. He accepted them wholeheartedly as part of who he was. He believed it was possible to both serve the Jedi and the Republic and live life with joy, happiness, and the love of a family. His family. He dreamed of what could be, of a future where those he cared deeply about would be protected. I don't think that just meant me, our children, or his mother, or you. I think that meant the whole goodness that was in this galaxy. He saw life, he participated in it, and in doing so, he created life. With me. We shared in something infinitely precious, he and I. Something rare and wonderful and good."

She looked to Obi-Wan, whose expression hadn't changed, though his eyes had darkened. "In that moment, that's what I wanted, what I needed. I wanted to be like him-to really live life. To...create, and protect, and love, and if consequences came with that...Well, I'd deal with them when and if they happened. That's why I chose him, Obi-Wan. That's why I married him, why I lived a lie. Because Anakin Skywalker, for all of his flaws and imperfections, made me feel alive for the first time in my life. For the only time in my life. And, I do not regret one second of the time we spent together, of the love we shared, or of the lives we created...together." And without him, she added mentally, she felt a huge part of who she had once been had died. But, as Obi-Wan quietly contemplated her words, she realized: Yes, Anakin had been flawed. But, he was different than Vader. Or...or maybe Vader and Anakin were the same. But maybe somewhere, somewhere deep, deep down within himself...perhaps her husband, her Ani, did still live. But, she wasn't sure he could ever be retrieved or revived. And that dance...that horrible, yet wonderful dance...had brought that reality crashing back down.

And by the Force, it hurt. It hurt so much that castigation within the nine Corellian hells would probably have been preferable.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

"I need to." She reached up and wiped her tears away. "Lives are at stake. Innocent ones." Beyond the viewport, she saw the massive supply ship leaving the atmosphere of the planet. Obi-Wan turned to it, slightly, hesitating as his hands hovered over the controls. "Make sure you turn on the cloaking device first." Her voice was final. No turning back. No persuading. This was happening.

It was now or never. And, like she said, lives were at stake.

After another moment of hesitation, Obi-Wan nodded, and his hands finally flew over the controls, lights turning on as he went. "Don't die in there." he said. He was her getaway ship...and today, she'd slip in, do what she had to do, and get out. She smiled, though there was no joy in it. She doubted there would ever be joy in her life again, like there once had been. Not without Anakin.

"There may yet come a day...but it is not this day, Obi-Wan."

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her nerves, stood up from her chair, and made her way to the back of the ship to don her assassin's uniform. Focusing all her mental energies on the mission, the plan, she prepared to go up against the Empire once again.

For the sake of her children. For the sake of freedom.

The entire galaxy was depending on her...and she wouldn't let them down.


Golden eyes swept the lines of hyperspace swirling before him.

Disturbing.

That was it. Something was pulling at him in a way he'd not felt in a very long time.

Frustrating.

Yes, he felt that, too. Behind the mask, he pursed his lips and frowned.

Vader stood at the main viewport of the bridge, long arms crossed across his massive chest, staring as the swirls of hyperspace whooshed past them, searching the Force for...Answers? Direction? He didn't really know. All he knew, since the moment he'd stepped onto the supply ship from Jedha at the behest of his master (a punishment for how distracted he'd become the last two weeks), was that the Force demanded him to cloak his presence in it. Why, he wasn't exactly sure. But, at the constant nagging in the back of his mind, he'd finally done it before stepping aboard the ship back on Jedha to make sure the cargo got to its destination safely.

A Kyber crystal. Massive, unstable, translucent, and extremely powerful. It had taken several heavy duty cargo lifters to even maneuver the huge crystal into the cargo hold of the transport ship. Back in his days as a Jedi, it would have been deemed useless and would have been left to collect dust in the bowels of the caverns where it was found on that barren rock. But now, now it was considered highly useful in his Master's plans. Priceless even. It would be one part of an even bigger collection of crystals in what would one day be the power cell of the Death Star.

Sidious' 'pet project.'

If Krennic could actually make it happen, of course.

Vader snorted quietly, rolling his eyes at the thought of both the project and the pompous power-chaser Krennic that Sidious had put in charge of the development of the plan. He didn't care one iota for the Emperor's dream machine. No weapon could out match the raw power of the Force. None. No matter how menacing it was. But, the Emperor didn't care what his opinion was, so Vader went along with it. Even if he wasn't exactly enthused about the idea of a planet killer.

Seriously. To Vader's mind, the ability to destroy a planet, while it would serve to strike terror across the galaxy (and thus, hopefully frighten people into towing the Imperial line), would be a ridiculous waste of valuable planetary resources. Especially highly populated or mineral rich planets. Once destroyed, those resources would be hard pressed to be found again.

Not to mention it would enrage the already stiff-necked Rebellion even more.

Of course, the former wasn't his concern, even if the after effects sure as hell would be. If he showed the slightest opposition to Sidious' plans, he'd merely be punished again, likely with another whopping dose of Sith Lightning.

And, he certainly didn't want to incur that. Hell, the last dose he'd gotten was a painful enough reminder of his place as Sidious' subordinate. And, dammit that fact chafed.

That had been just after the party and Stern's unfortunate demise, despite Vader's personal appearance at the event to prevent such a...tragedy. Just thinking about that deceased buffoon Stern brought back images, feelings, desires. Of her. His Padme.

And, that dance.

Still. The Force had been...strange, since that tango two weeks ago. The tango that continued to haunt him, sleeping and awake. His fists clenched, and he attempted to keep the images at bay. Though the men working all around him on the bridge wouldn't see his expression from behind the helmeted mask, he didn't necessarily want to think about how close he'd gotten to losing control that night, not with them around. But, as usual, it failed, and his mind was again conjuring up images of him holding her tightly in his arms, swinging her through the air effortlessly, the way her hands had sensually touched his body...so at odds with the hatred she so vehemently claimed to have for him.

That dress. Force, that delectably revealing dress that still served to enrage and entice him even now.

He had to bite back an aroused groan once again at the vision she'd presented in that...outfit. That plunging neckline, her beautiful bare back, the alluring length of her bare legs showcased to perfection in that barely there wisp of a dress. Once again, desire flooded his veins making him uncomfortable within the confines of his suit.

Kriff!

His heart had soared with triumph when she'd whispered his name, had admitted Vader was one and the same as her husband. He had wanted to kiss her to remind her further of that fact, had tried to kiss her actually, and for a moment he'd thought she would let him. But, she turned her face away at the last moment, and he'd ended up caressing her jaw and cheek with his kisses.

Then her target had died suddenly. He'd lost concentration...and when he realized what was really happening, that Padme had killed the man with poison from her own damn lips, he'd turned back to her, but she was gone. Just like that. Tango, done. Padme's admission….a thing of the past. The chemistry between them, broken. The ache in his chest had felt heavier in that moment than it had since he'd discovered she was still alive but now hated him.

But, he took comfort in one fact. A very telling fact. Whether she admitted it or not.

She'd had a chance to kill him, a chance literally no one since he'd become Darth Vader had ever gotten close to, and...she'd turned her head away. She'd spared his life.

So, against every impulse screaming at him to do otherwise, he hadn't gone after her. He'd reigned in his primal desires to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back on board his ship and force her to stay and listen to him, to reconcile with him, and had remained there to handle the fallout of the assassination. He'd gotten back into that cursed suit and had made a huge fuss about the guest of honor dying. He'd even endured his master's subsequent wrath and torture with that horrid lightning. Yet, it had been worth it. She'd spared his life. She'd whispered his name almost adoringly, achingly on her lips. It was progress.

Or...so he'd thought. Until he'd dragged his sore and twitching body to his desk in his private quarters to pull up the holofeed of his family and had found a completely different Padme on screen before him. Gone was the determination. Gone was the fire that drove her to recklessly throw herself into danger, consequences be damned. In its place was a hollow shell of a woman, exhausted, pale, drawn, quiet...barely functioning throughout the day. And, it affected his children too, so sensitive to the Force were they. The woman who birthed them, loved and cared for them was incredibly upset, and they couldn't even comprehend why.

But Vader knew. The moment he'd seen her, he'd known. This...this was all his doing. He'd lost control. In his jealousy, he'd baited her, had used his intimate knowledge of his wife to get a knee-jerk reaction out of her. He'd mocked their own intimacy, their marital relations, with a stupid cruel joke, clever though it had seemed at the time. He'd approached the walls she'd built to protect herself, and he'd taken a battering ram to them, assuming she just erected them to spite him in her own anger.

He'd reflected much on that short verbal exchange the last two weeks. Examined every nuance of the words spoken...hers and his.

And, maybe...maybe those walls hadn't just been to spite him, or push him away and hold him at bay. Maybe...maybe she was just as devastated about what had happened between them as he was, and it had been her method of coping. Just as his full immersion in the Dark Side had been his coping method.

His loss of control had hurt his wife deeply. Again. This time, it wasn't physical. This time, it was emotional, mental...and he wasn't sure it was any better than that horrible night on Mustafar. In fact, if he was honest, it was probably worse. Just as it always did the last couple of weeks, the thought made him sick to his stomach. The first time he'd realized it, he'd actually stumbled to the fresher to throw up, images of his most recent offense mixing with images of him Force choking his beloved heavily pregnant wife. He'd promised himself he wouldn't hurt her again, and yet...here he was, hurting her again. History repeating itself.

He really was a monster.

But, thankfully, this time as he began dwelling on those thoughts, searching the Force as he had multiple times for answers on what to do to fix the situation...something...brushed against his conscience. He froze, stretching out with the Force, careful to cloak his own presence should it be danger. Immediately, his mood soured as he recognized the presence.

Obi-Wan.

What in kriffing hells was he doing here?! Instantly, Vader's mind jumped to the Kyber crystal he was supposed to protect. Had his old master somehow found out about the crystal? About what it was being used for? No...impossible. He'd made sure the crystal was protected at the highest cost, and only the highest level of security clearance within the Empire knew of the Death Star.

So, how…? Why…?

But, Obi-Wan was forgotten almost instantly as he stretched even further out with the Force and found yet another horrifyingly familiar presence. One that had just broken into the supply ship and was currently sneaking her way slowly through the twisting halls of the ship. Abruptly, without even thinking, he pivoted, striding quickly from the deck. No one bothered to spare anything but a nervous glance at him. They didn't question him-they wouldn't dare risk their puny lives like that. Except that today, he would have just ignored them, for he was currently hyperfocused on the one presence that was onboard the ship at that very moment that shouldn't have been there. One only known to himself.

Padme. Likely, as Nightblade.

And, he highly doubted she realized he was even there.

What in the living Force was she doing there?! Kriff! Again, as he made his way with long, hurried strides through the ship to the turbolifts and down towards the private shuttle he'd parked within one of the many cargo hangars, he tried to think of any reason she'd be there. He was certain that the Kyber crystal was secret, but there was literally no other reason she could be there apart from that. His plans to be on board this ship had not been documented. Hell, even the ship's captain hadn't known until he'd shown up. So, she certainly wasn't there to assassinate him, thank the Force. That would be...awkward, to say the least. But, there was no other personnel on board who had done anything even remotely close to drawing the ire of the Rebellion to the point of needing assassination. The ship's personnel were all just pawns in the Empire's machine. Nothing more.

So...she had to know about the crystal. There was simply no other explanation. Dammit.

He could have faced her as Vader. He seriously doubted she'd give him any answers as to how she'd found out what was being exported from Jedha. Worse, he wasn't yet sure how he could face her after he'd so thoroughly hurt her. Again. No, Vader would just make her upset again, he decided minutes later, as he reached his private, nondescript shuttle left so innocuously in the empty hangar. The ramp was already lowered, expectantly waiting for when they'd dock at their destination, and he could make a quick getaway back towards his personal ship, the Executor. He opened the hatch to his secret compartment, and pulled out his other persona.

This was a job for Sandstorm.

He dressed quickly in the outfit of his alter ego. Actually, in the time since she'd last met with Sandstorm, he'd done quite a number of smaller side 'missions' as the mysterious Jedi in hiding. Nothing big, or even detrimental to the Empire. Just small things that made that little band of rebels she'd introduced him to happy, and who would therefore report good things back to both her and her Rebel Command about him. So, it wasn't completely unlikely that Sandstorm would show up here, with Jedha being such a prime target for infiltration. Jedi were good at that, after all. But, he wasn't sure what to do about Obi-Wan. A quick check on the man told Vader that the older Jedi had stayed in what was likely a getaway ship in another, often unused, hangar on the opposite side of the ship. So, that meant he could help Padme without interference...and then he'd somehow have to find a way to split up from her.

He paused as he secured the voice modulator, fully dressed now, the hood drawn up over him, the mask securely in place. Frankly, he had no idea what the kriff he was going to do about this whole plan. Not that he had one. He couldn't exactly let Padme find out about why they were transporting the crystal, but it would be extremely suspicious if he kept her away from it. Maybe he could maneuver the situation so that she would find the crystal, but wouldn't find out why the Empire bothered to have it. Maybe...Hell, he had no idea.

But, he couldn't just stand there and let her ruin this one mission either. Not this time. The wrath he would face from Sidious if that happened….he actually shuddered as he bounded out of the door, keeping to the shadows as he raced towards where Padme was, making sure his presence was fully cloaked from detection from Obi-Wan, who likely was hyper aware of what Padme was doing as well.

Though he'd had to avoid multiple squads of Stormtroopers, he reached her level quite easily. It helped when he had the Force and was able to either stay fully hidden in the shadows, or direct curious onlookers' attention elsewhere. He slowed his pace, willing himself to calm his racing heart as he moved stealthily towards where she herself was stealthily avoiding Stormtroopers. He paused as two more troopers walked past on patrol, the hallways so narrow that he barely could fit behind an abandoned crate in time. But, soon enough, they'd stalked past, their footsteps fading away, and he breathed out a sigh in relief, about to move out…

The sudden snap-hiss of a lightsaber was his only warning. Damn! How'd she do that? He elected to freeze, as a glowing purple blade entered his vision briefly...before quickly moving away. "Sandstorm?!" Padme, Nightblade, whispered incredulously. Vader slowly turned and looked up to find her staring down at him with wide eyes over her own mask.

I'm so sorry, Angel! Were the first words that wanted to be blurted out of his mouth. It...wouldn't make sense in this situation though. Not as Sandstorm. So, he quirked an eyebrow lazily, acknowledging her with wry amusement in his voice. "Nightblade. Are you usually in the habit of threatening people with…" Wait a minute. He'd taken her...his...lightsaber from her. He frowned, looking at the weapon still humming in her hand. Another kriffing lightsaber...and not one he'd seen before. Purple blade with a smooth silver handle that curved just slightly. It was much smaller than his own blue blade had been. Better suited to her body size and fighting style. Nice weapon. Reminded him of Naboo and seemed perfect for his wife. She'd always loved the color purple after all. And, there was only one person who could've made it for her. Damn him! But nice though it was, that still didn't mean he appreciated Obi-Wan making it for his wife. Like always - interfering where he didn't belong...Usually in the middle of his and Padme's marriage.

"I didn't realize you were Force sensitive."

At the pointed look at her new lightsaber, Padme sheathed it smoothly with another snap-hiss. "I'm not. It was a gift. From another Jedi friend." There was a question in her voice, as if she wasn't sure how he'd react to finding out about another hidden Jedi.

"Was that before or after the Purge?" He asked, his voice like ice. He couldn't help the strong surge of jealousy he felt flare in his system at his former master, and he realized he'd have to be very careful if he didn't want to inadvertently tip her off as to his real identity. If Padme had needed a new lightsaber, then he should have been the one to make it for her. Not Obi-Wan. Of course, Vader would have preferred she not have a lightsaber at all. Not being Force sensitive, using the weapon of a Jedi presented an increased danger for his wife in handling and using the weapon. On the other hand, given the fact that she would continue to go on missions against the Empire, Vader acknowledged the odds were stacked considerably more in her favor with the ancient weapon in hand. And, for her own protection, he admitted he would prefer she had every advantage she could get.

Not to mention how badass she was at handling a lightsaber. Even he could admit that.

"After. Recently, in fact." Still no mention of names. Nevermind that. He'd already put the pieces together and figured out where she'd gotten the blasted thing from, and it was an effort not to get angry again and give in to the Dark Side. He couldn't afford his eyes turning gold just now. She didn't trust him that much. Not yet. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." He stood and began moving again, as though he'd had a purpose. He didn't, but they weren't about to sit and share idle chit chat when they were currently dressed as Imperial enemies.

"You first." Nightblade was ever the stubborn one. In spades. Still, it was more animation in her voice than he'd heard from her since that tango. Despite it all, he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. It was some small improvement.

"I was trying to find out what they were doing on Jedha." He said, carefully. Nice answer. Vague, not giving anything away.

Stunned silence met his remark. Then, "Did you find out anything?"

He shook his head. "No. But, then I saw them loading a bunch of things in here and...well, I stowed away."

"We've been trying to get operatives into Jedha for weeks...not one has returned." The words were incredulous. "But, I guess being a Jedi has its perks, right?"

He almost snorted at that. A life of waiting around while the galaxy took advantage of them? A life without love or attachments or any sort of feelings whatsoever? Just duty, duty, and more duty? Some perks. "So, if you haven't been able to get operatives back, why are you here?"

Another silence, as if she was debating whether to reveal her mission. "I'm here to free the slaves."

Vader stopped in his tracks, whirling, blue eyes wide as he searched her own concerned eyes. She was wrong. Someone had grossly misinformed her. There were no slaves being transported on this ship. He was certain of that. Sidious knew how Vader felt about slavery. While he basically ignored what Sidious was doing with slaves across the galaxy, he had made it clear to his master that he would have no part in it. Never. Not after… "How do you know this?" Even with the voice modulator, his voice was clipped, shocked. Padme blinked in surprise.

"A distress signal got through." Padme replied smoothly, unaffected by the change in his mood. "Was that not why you got on board?"

He barely heard the question. He whirled back around, trying and failing to control his breathing as his fists clenched, his jaw tight. Immediately, he stretched out, looking at ALL presences on the ship, looking for any that were out of place…

At first, nothing was out of the ordinary. Just the normal bored and apprehensive soldiers and Stormtroopers. He began to breathe out in relief, knowing she was wrong, that whatever intel she'd received was wrong, and he could send her back on her way with the crystal - and its ultimate destination - still protected. But then…there. No. It couldn't be! But, the Force didn't lie. Double checking, he was both horrified and sickened to find a mass of terrified presences just a few levels below. Innocent ones. In an area of the ship that Vader suspected was a single big cargo container.

Damn you, Sidious!

"I came here in desperation to find out what was happening on Jedha, but…," His voice, though modulated, was tight, almost strangled. "This...this is far more important." He took a deep breath, making sure he was calm, that his presence was still hidden in the Force, as he turned to face his wife. "Two floors below. That's where they are. And, we're getting them out of here."

There was no room for argument in his voice, but he didn't need to worry about Padme protesting.

She nodded grimly, motioning forward. "Lead the way, Jedi." This time, he didn't scoff at the name, merely turned and did as he was told. For once, even being in Padme's presence wasn't enough to keep his full focus on her. Instead, his mind whirled with fury, with outrage at the outright betrayal. Sidious knew. Damn him! Vader had no doubt of that fact. And, his master had sent him here anyway. Not as a guardian of the much vaunted Kyber crystal, but as a mere delivery boy for slaves. This time, the old Sith Lord had gone too far. But, he didn't have time to worry about that now. He would deal with Sidious later.

First, he had slaves to free.

They were silent as they wound their way through narrow, suffocating, dimly lit hallways. Normally, he would have relished the time to be with her, to hear her voice, modulated as hers was, but he couldn't trust himself to open his mouth right now. It was all he could to to keep from raging and losing control to the Dark Side, killing every blasted Imperial on that ship. But Padme, as they found a turbolift without guards, decided against silence. "Thank you. For helping me help them."

They entered the turbolift, and Vader hit the button for two floors below. Immediately, the door shut and whisked them down to the level where the slaves were being held. "You don't need to thank me for this." He replied stiffly. "Those are innocent lives down there. Lives that don't deserve a life of subjugation in slavery." He was stunned to realize he still meant it, with every fiber of his being. With that realization, the Force seemed to whisper to him, So, why do you stand by and let it happen when you can't see it?

"I know." Padme said, her voice a little louder in the lift. "It's just...I'm sure there were other things you were doing."

"They can wait." A pause, as he realized that it probably would seem weird if he didn't ask about the Jedi she mentioned earlier. "Who was the Jedi who made you that lightsaber?" It was a miracle he sounded like he didn't already know who it was.

A hesitation again as the lift slowed to a stop. "It's not my place to tell." She finally said, as the doors whooshed open and they quickly exited. "You'll likely meet him anyway when we get those people out of here."

And, if he did that, no amount of hiding in the Force would keep Obi-Wan from knowing who he was. It only worked at longer distances. It worked if the person was standing right next to them as well, but they'd have to be not as strong or observant with the Force. Obi-Wan was both strong, and way too observant for his own damn good. "He's here?" He tried to sound incredulous, but he wasn't sure if he managed it. They were getting closer and closer to where he could sense those terrified souls. Force, how could he have been so kriffing blind?...Dammit, how many times had this happened already without his knowledge?!

Knowing Sidious, too damn many to count.

"He's our getaway ship." Obi-Wan must have either been very careless with his wife, or else he trusted her abilities far too much if he allowed himself to be a mere getaway driver for this mission.

"What, you're going to leave in the middle of hyperspace?" He asked, though he, of course, knew the answer already.

"With an experienced pilot, it's possible to do so and not get ripped to pieces. Especially if that pilot is Force sensitive." A pause. "You must not be much of a pilot if you didn't know that."

That did cause a snort from him, and he opened his mouth to reply...and promptly shut it as they turned the last corner, and he quickly pulled Padme behind a crate. Instantly, she was on alert, asking no questions, as Vader slowly peered out from behind the crate. Two Death Troopers stood at the door, speaking to one another in their scrambled language. Had Vader been wearing his helmet, he would have been able to tell what they were saying. He reached out with the Force for the inside of that room. No other Stormtroopers were there, but they would likely come running the moment they engaged those Death Troopers.

He leaned back, bumping the back of his head against the crate, pondering what to do. He could easily kill both troopers now with a quick crushing of their windpipes...but that wasn't exactly very Jedi-like. "What are they?" Padme asked, bewildered and concerned. Even not being Force-sensitive, she could tell there was something...different about these troopers.

"Death Troopers. They're elite." He kept it simple, didn't bother explaining they were Krennic's little lackeys. But, Vader understood plenty. So, these slaves were for that oaf Krennic. Likely to work on his stupid Death Star. He clenched his teeth. "They're not going to go down easy."

"I never said I wanted it to be easy." But, despite the bold words, he could feel apprehension of the unknown rolling off of her. "No chance of sneaking up on them, is there?"

Vader shook his head. "Not in that position, no." He replied, his mind whirling to figure out a way to get them all out of this. "The moment we engage, the rest of the ship will be notified of our presence." He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow. "If I keep your path clear, do you think you could get those people off the ship, and as quickly as possible?"

Padme's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. As determined to do her duty as ever. Good. He was gratified to see her resolve was still intact after what he'd last done to her at the party. "We'll get off this ship alive." She promised, and then added for emphasis, "All of us."

He simply nodded. He didn't mention that the moment he was sure she and the prisoners were safe and in the clear, he would be splitting off from them. But, he smiled grimly behind his mask all the same. "That's the spirit." He said. They waited a moment, staring at one another, before Vader nodded and leapt out from behind the crate, his lightsaber-Anakin's lightsaber, the handle covered by leather though it was, springing to life, as he charged at the Death Troopers.

Even with his considerable Force enhanced speed, the troopers saw him coming, and one of them, as he'd predicted, got something out over the comm with that gargled vocal interference right before he reached them, and with a massive Force push, sent them flying backwards and down the hallway. Wasting no time, sensing Padme right behind him, her own lightsaber now ignited, he stabbed his lightsaber into the lock mechanism holding the door. Instantly, it's connections severed, and it whooshed open, revealing terrified and startled slaves of nearly every conceivable race cowering in a dimly lit, grimey, sweltering room. The conditions - and the smell - made him bristle with renewed fury, but he didn't have time to worry about that right now. The troopers were back on their feet and had begun shooting their blasters in his direction.

"Get them out, now!" He ordered, as he began deflecting blaster bolts with ease, sending them back towards their target. Had they been normal Stormtroopers, they would have been down immediately, but he wasn't lying when he said they were the elite. The Death Troopers were the best of the very best in the Empire. Not hard enough to deter him, true, but a major annoyance still, for sure.

And, he couldn't help a flash of concern that they might be too much for Padme to handle, despite all her superb skills and training.

Shaking that thought off, he focused his immediate energy and efforts on clearing the pathway for them to exit. As Padme began directing the terrified prisoners out of the room, Vader pressed forward, running and deflecting blaster fire at the same time, heading without fear towards the two Death Troopers. It was almost like being back in the Clone Wars-Padme at his back, ready to fight as necessary, while he took the brunt of it. But this time, Padme was more than capable of standing on her own, which she proved effortlessly as three Stormtroopers rounded the far corner behind them, and immediately opened fire. The terrified prisoners screamed and ducked, but Padme was there, calmly twirling her saber and deflecting each and every blaster bolt, maybe not quite as gracefully as he did it, but smoothly and effectively nonetheless. Despite it all, Vader had to admit she'd been taught rather well by Obi-Wan if she was that effective.

And, while a quick flare of jealousy swept through him at the thought of Obi-Wan training his wife like that, in that moment, he was also surprisingly grateful to the older Jedi as well. If his former master hadn't trained her, they'd likely be kriffing screwed about now. For once, Vader was actually glad for Obi-Wan's meddling.

He reached the Death Troopers, using the Force to smash them into opposite sides of the wall, and before they could recover, he slashed his blue blade across both of their chests, slicing clean through. They slumped to the floor, dead. Elite or not, he was still a Jedi...Umm, wait, no, a Sith Lord. Yeah, that's what I am. The Dark Lord of the Sith. He was the most powerful Force sensitive in the galaxy, perhaps only rivaled by that of his own children. None of Krennic's puny men could withstand him.

He whirled back, racing for the end of the corridor, where the two Stormtroopers had now become five, though two lay sprawled dead in the hallway. Padme still defended their group vigorously, her purple blade singing and swirling through the air nonstop, as the prisoners continued to crawl out from the cargo hold behind her. He stopped at her side, joining in the fray. "These are just the ones on this level!" He said through gritted teeth, his own blue blade whirling to help block the increased shots fired their way. "Don't bother killing all of them-Just the ones in our way!"

He hoped that sounded reasonable to her. After all, how could he explain such carnage to Sidious, if a whole kriffing legion of Stormtroopers ended up cut down on an Imperial controlled vessel? His master was going to be pissed as hell as it was that the slaves had gotten free.

Not that that was any of her concern.

"I know that!" She snapped back, but now that he was covering her, she whirled, motioning for the newly freed slaves to stand and follow her. Vader kept deflecting, the Dark Side calling at him to turn these troopers into dust but...no. He wouldn't give in, not now. Not when he, Sandstorm (not Vader), had a reputation to uphold, to garner Padme's trust...but also to not frighten these poor people more than they clearly already were. So, he watched their backs as they made their way back towards the turbo lift, deflecting bolts back that hit their deadly mark time and time again. But, unfortunately, more troopers were beginning to arrive, and it was all he could do to keep going. Still, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the pulsating rush of adrenaline blazing white-hot through his system, giving him that wonderful high, that thrill of accomplishment that he'd so enjoyed as a Jedi. A feeling that, he had to admit, had been decidedly lacking since donning the mantle of Sith Lord. In that moment, he realized...

He'd missed it...missed this, missed helping people instead of humiliating and hurting them for the Empire's own twisted needs and goals.

And, for a second, he felt his chest constrict with emotion, making it hard to breathe.

I can't focus on this now!

They reached the turbolift, and the prisoners began filing in. Thankfully, there weren't too many to fit in one go. But, as they filed in, Padme was back at his side, helping, bolts deflected back at enemies not as frequently but still, it was something most non-Force sensitives couldn't do at all. He might have been more impressed, had their lives not been in such peril. Finally, the last of the prisoners was in the turbo lift. "Go." He ordered.

"Already ahead of you." Sure enough, she was already in. "Get in, now!"

This time, it was he who heeded her, and he stepped into the lift, the doors swishing closed. For a few moments, blasts continued hitting the doors, but soon the sound faded away as the lift began to rise. "I assume we're going straight to the level where your getaway ship is, correct?" He growled, his body still tense. There would surely be more troopers waiting for them when the doors opened. He would see her through, then he'd split.

"Yeah." Padme whispered back.

"Are...are you Jedi?" A small timid voice asked from behind them. Both Padme and Vader turned their heads, being too squished to fully turn around in the packed lift. Behind them, a young Twi'lek girl, no more than sixteen at most, stared wide-eyed at them, smushed up between two other adults, one an older human male, the other a Cerean female.

How to answer that? Vader frowned. When these people were freed, surely they would tell their story to others in the galaxy. The idea that Jedi were running around looting Imperial ships carrying Kyber crystals would surely send Sidious into a raging panic. Even worse, he couldn't exactly come out and admit he was Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. That would definitely cause a panic. Not to mention piss his wife off royally and ruin all of his carefully laid plans to woo her back to him. "Not anymore." Was what he decided to go with. There. Neutral, revealing not too much of who they were, but just enough to get these people to maybe trust them.

The prisoners glanced at one another, murmuring in hushed whispers amongst themselves, but the Twi'lek girl managed a small, albeit sad smile. "Thank you. For coming to rescue us."

Vader couldn't say anything. He was too choked up to speak. Had it not been for Padme, he likely never would have known these people were even here. Unknowingly, he would have delivered these people to their new masters, like some kind of...of slaver. The idea made him feel disgusting, dirty, and used in the most reprehensible way possible. Sidious had violated the trust he'd once had in him in the most heinous of ways, deliberately mocking him behind his back with his own past as a slave. He turned away, swallowing the bile and anger that threatened to make him lose his tight control over the Force.

"Of course." It was Padme who spoke, kindly, reassuringly. "When we received your distress signal, we were immediately dispatched by the Rebellion to come rescue you."

In any other circumstance, he would have ridiculed her for turning the Rebellion's propaganda on these people. But, in this instance, she was right. The Rebellion had done something brave and respectable and right in working to free these innocent people. All he'd done for two years was either cause destruction, or stand by, turning the other cheek as it were, while lives were ruined and destroyed...all for the 'good' of the Empire. If his mother could see him now…

She'd be ashamed.

Before he could dwell on that more, the lift opened, and mercifully, they found themselves staring face to face with a whole squad of troopers. A perfect excuse to file that thought away for...for never. Vader and Padme immediately acted, both of them re-igniting their sabers as they threw themselves into the fray, blocking more blaster bolts as they charged, leaping, stabbing their blades through the pathetic excuses of armor as they went. Both of them together moved in sync, as though they were two deadly dancers weaving a lethal dance, carving Stormtroopers through with ease. At one point, Vader heard Padme cry out in pain, and he whirled around to find that a Stormtrooper had managed to hit her across the face with the butt of his blaster. But, before Vader could lose his cool and destroy him, Padme lunged forward with a snarled grunt, slicing upwards with her lightsaber in one smooth move and sliced the trooper's head clean off.

Good, he thought darkly, as he moved in closer to her to make sure she was well protected.

That was too damn close. And, he wouldn't lose her again.

Finally, the last trooper was dead, and the way was clear to the hangar. "Go!" He ordered, pointing toward the hangar bay, his mind already racing ahead. Obi-Wan was close. He could feel him in the Force. If he got any closer, his cover would be blown. "I'll take up the rear." Where he could figure out how to escape unnoticed.

Padme didn't question it. She was already moving forward, guiding the others towards the open blast doors leading to the hangar where Obi-Wan's getaway ship likely was waiting. He waited, watching himself as the last of the slaves rushed past, pausing as he waited for his opportunity…

Just as he'd suspected, another squad of troopers came running around the corner.

"Sandstorm!" Padme called out, as Vader turned to face them. In the Force, he could feel her start to come back for him, to fight by his side, and while that thought made him proud, he also couldn't allow her to do that. Not if he wanted her to escape unscathed with the slaves...and not if he didn't want her to find out who he really was. He whirled, aiming his lightsaber at the lock mechanism next to the blast doors, and stabbed it in, the door rushing shut.

"Get them out now! I'll find my own way out!" He yelled, as the doors slammed shut between them. The last thing he saw was her dark, concerned eyes, wide with horror as he disappeared from view. Confident that she and Obi-Wan would escape unhurt with the slaves, he nodded once in grim satisfaction, pleased to have thwarted Sidious' vile plan for these slaves at least.

The moment the doors shut, however…

He shook that thought off, grinned darkly, and turned back to the amassed troopers before him. Now, he didn't need the facade of Sandstorm. Now, he could be who he really was - the Dark Lord of the Sith…and these troopers were going to pay.

He would see to that personally.


I know, I know, it's been a while. Things got really busy. They're technically still busy-between work, Twitch streaming projects, personal life...I really only get like an hour a day to write...and then sometimes I'm just too exhausted. But here is a new chapter! I want things to start picking up for Vader at this point, cuz I want more family stuff. The Tango was really a turning point. But some important things need to happen first.

The songs for this chapter are: Tightrope from Greatest Showman, and Costa Rican Standoff by Michael Giachino or however you spell his name.

Review!

Love,

Sarah