Lord Vader left the rebel interrogation session, feeling he had gleaned enough information to continue his search. The men in the cell were groaning in pain, but the door slid shut behind him and silenced their pitiful whimpering. With his cape flowing behind him, he strode into the hangar bay and alerted security he was leaving the detention centre. Getting into his dark speeder, he lifted up into the air and joined a busy evening traffic lane, heading straight for the Imperial Palace.
Since the twins had left last week, Vader had spent his days interrogating the rebels from the failed hit and run raid, as well as keeping up with his usual duties that included naval meetings and attending political events.
He had also spoken to Luke on several occasions over a Holo call. The boy had surprised him by requesting to speak to him, but instead of relaying important information, the child had just babbled about his day and asked about all the ships going past his conference room window on Coruscant. Not having the heart to hang up on his son, he'd obliged him and the two had talked for some time, and several times since.
Thinking of his children, he felt strange. He didn't miss them. He was incapable of such a thing. But at the same time, it would certainly be better for everybody if they were here with him and Padmé.
Pushing his family from his mind, he concentrated on the rebels. The prisoners had held their tongues well, but they had broken today. His new intelligence revealed a prominent cell's location operating from the planet Dorin.
Though he had promised not to hurt Kenobi, he had promised no such thing for the other thousands of rebel scum out there at large, threatening the stability he had brought in the galaxy. Soon he would head to Dorin, and wipe out whoever he found working against the empire there.
Driving closer to the palace, he navigated towards his hangar and brought the speeder down to land. Taking the elevator, he was soon on his way upward towards his quarters.
Since arriving on Coruscant with Padmé, he'd made arrangements for her to stay in one of the rooms in his private floor in the Imperial Palace. Her designated room was across the hallway from his own, and the room itself had everything she could ever need. Most importantly, he had made sure there was a long-range comm device in there so she could call Luke and Leia when their classes finished each day.
She had access to the kitchen droid's huge menu, as well as thousands of Holo channels and a huge window with unparalleled views of the Coruscant sunsets that she used to love so much. But despite all this, whenever he went into her room to see her, she was despondent. The woman barely ate, barely moved and barely lifted her eyes to look upon him. It was like the children had died. From the way she was acting, you'd think she'd never see them again.
Such a reaction was beginning to make him grate on his nerves, as if she was suffering greatly. Did she not see the weight of his own suffering? At least he was trying to speak to her and trying to make her comfortable. She was the one who had deserted him. She was the one who had hid from him and caused all this mess.
Padmé should be grateful he didn't give her a room on his castle on Mustafar. Or his other residence on Vjun, where the acid rain caused no plant life to ever grow. No, she should be happy now that everything was how it should be, now that they were finally together again.
But the voice inside his head which seemed to be getting louder and more insistent as the days went on, laughed at him. How could she ever be happy, when he had ripped apart their family once again? When he had her locked up in a gilded cage?
The elevator reached its destination and he stepped out into a dark corridor, silencing his confusing thoughts. Nodding at the guards on duty, they instantly stood aside and he entered Padmé's suite, hoping to find her mood improved, though he doubted it would be.
It was dark and silent save for the hums of passing speeders outside. He noticed she had the windows open, letting in a cool breeze. Traffic streamed by in rivers of headlights and buzzing neon skyscrapers lit up the sky, providing the only light that reached the room. A dark-haired figure was curled up in bed, illuminated by the city lights, and he approached until he was a respectful distance away. Through the Force he could tell she was awake and her mood was subdued, as he expected.
The respirator breathed for a few cycles in the quiet darkness. "Are you well?"
No answer.
"TC-909 informed me that you have had several more contractions."
Nothing.
Padmé refused to tell him how she was feeling, or if she needed anything for her pregnancy pains. During the week, he had grown frustrated with her disregard for her own medical welfare, and had assigned a medical droid called TC-909 to monitor her.
He had been angry to find out she'd already begun having mild contractions, too spaced out to be the onset of labour, but hinting that it could be soon. The fact that she'd hide something so important that could endanger her turned his mood into a volatile rage that had to be spent in the training room, smashing up more battle simulation droids. He had almost lost her before, and as much as she had hurt him with her betrayal with Obi-Wan, he would not lose her again. It would be the end of him.
"Your life here need not be so miserable. It is you who are making it so."
He hoped that would get a rise out of her, but still his wife, or should he say ex-wife, was silent. Memories from Anakin's life came to him, and he could almost feel the ghost of her touch against his skin. How many times had they watched the traffic pass by from her old apartment at 500 Republica, entwined in the sheets?
Watching the subtle rising and falling of her shoulders as she breathed, he wondered if she truly knew how much he wanted to change what he had done. All of his efforts over the last nine years, going on countless missions, killing thousands, working relentlessly because that's all he could do…he would trade it all for one moment with her back in his old body, back when she still loved him.
In that moment on Mustafar he could've run away with her, but all he thought about was his own ambitions. He'd been high on the thrill of finally letting the dam break that he had held back all his life. Unleashing his true power had been exhilarating. But now he could never go back, and now all he had was the opportunity he had been given for a second chance.
He paced forward until he could see her face. It was as blank as Queen Amidala's. The woman's mind was far away, when it should be here, with him. Though his suit made him unable to feel the cold, he noticed her bare arms and the silken sheets that covered her body looked thin.
"Are you cold?"
No answer.
He intended to interrogate her further until she spoke to him, but he thought better of it. The twins were the only ones who brought her out of her stupor, but they had a limit with how much time they cold spent on a Holo call every day.
Sighing, he turned and left her alone, wanting the peace of his hyperbauric chamber. It was clear he wasn't going to get a word out of her tonight.
Stupidly wishing like a naive boy that things could be how they once were, and that Padmé would go back to the smiling woman he used to know, he settled down for some meditation. Perhaps tomorrow would be an improvement, though again, he doubted it.
The next day was filled with war meetings as an uprising had taken place in the Sumitra system, with three planets banding together to fight off the planned imperial colonisation expansion. Listening to the delegate from the senate who represented one of these disloyal planets, he had half a mind to make an example of the politician for their insurgent citizens. But as he was listening to the woman's plans, his personal commlink beeped.
Access to his personal line was highly restricted, limited only to the Emperor, Padmé, the twins, Erv Lekauf his personal aide, and TC-909. Everyone else contacted him via his military line.
Alarmed that he was receiving a message from one of those contacts, he noticed that it was a data message only and not a Holo projection, so he pressed for the text to come through. It was from TC-909. The droid was reporting that Padmé's contractions had become frequent enough to cause worry. She may be going into labour soon, but the droid wasn't sure how long it would be.
Fighting down an unwelcome wave of panic at this news, he excused himself from the meeting and instructed several of his assistants to make notes for him. As quickly as he could, he made his way back to the palace.
TC-909 updated his commlink as he reached the hangar bay that all was well, but he wouldn't be certain until he saw her for himself. He was boiling with nervous energy when he reached her room. Striding though the doorway without knocking, he surveyed the scene before him. Padmé was sitting up in a chair by the window talking to TC-909 with one pale hand on her swollen stomach. They immediately stopped conversing when he entered.
"Are you alright?" he asked, taking a few steps forward until he was close enough to see the details of her face. She looked up at him only for a moment before fixing her stare determinedly on the floor. So, it was going to be like this, even after he left his meeting just to ensure she was safe.
"The time in-between Mistress Padmé's contractions has decreased dramatically over the last few hours Lord Vader. However, after careful analysis I see the time is not short enough to be the onset of labour just yet," the droid told him, his round eyes flashing gently with his words. Waving one of his arms at a chart he held, he showed Vader the statistics. "It may be hours, days even, until her water breaks naturally. Of course, there is always the option to induce if it takes longer than necessary."
Padmé undoubtably hated being talked about as if she wasn't present, let alone about her bodily functions, but Vader was too preoccupied to care. The baby would be here soon, that much was clear. Then, he would send it away and they could get on with their lives with just Luke and Leia to think about. But even as he thought it, he was at war with himself. Could he really do that to Padmé? He knew it would destroy her.
"Padmé, do you require anything? Perhaps something for the pain?" he asked, trying to make her look at him.
Again, she was silent, acting like an immature child.
"Look at me when I am talking to you," he said, his frustration growing.
TC-909 looked between the two of them, looking as awkward as a droid could. "If Lord Vader wishes it, we could induce the labour prematurely now."
Through the Force he could feel a flash of anger from Padmé at TC-909's words. The droid was programmed to see Vader as its master, and bypassed his patient's personal wishes.
"Now there is an idea," he said bitterly. "What do you think about that, wife?"
Nothing. He was about to insist she answer him when suddenly Padmé's eye widened and she gritted her teeth, clenching the sides of the chair as a contraction wracked her petite frame. For a few agonising seconds she closed her eyes and breathed in shallow breaths as she fought to maintain her composure. TC-909 was by her side instantly, monitoring her vitals and scanning her stomach. When it had passed, she loosened her grip and breathed deeply, still avoiding his gaze.
"Mistress Padmé, do you wish to take some pain relief?"
She shook her head slightly, placing a hand over her belly.
"So, you would rather communicate with a droid than with me," he said tersely, ignoring the panic that had sent his own heart racing at the sight of her pain. It brought back memories from a terrible dream long ago. "Do you not realise I am trying to keep you safe?"
When he received no reply, he continued, wanting her to know how her foolish and selfish her silence and lack of cooperation was. "How long would you have hidden these contractions from me if I had not found out? Would you jeopardise your own life as well as your child's? Do you not realise how easily you could have…"
Using the Force, he rotated the chair so that she was right in front of him. Alarmed, the woman gripped the seat and stared up at him with a bitter expression, her hair falling down over her shoulder. Still, she said nothing.
Rumbling with a deep anger now, he spoke, leaning in towards her. "You will answer me."
Diverting her eyes to stare once again at the floor, she maintained her silence until he brought forth the topic Vader knew would make her react, even though he was still conflicted about his plan of action.
"Kenobi's child is not welcome here. They will be sent away as soon as the delivery is over."
As expected, Padmé looked up into his mask and horror passed over her features. For the first time in days she spoke to him.
"You can't."
"I will do what is required for a treacherous wife."
"Do you even hear yourself?" she hissed, standing to her feet before him, only coming up to the height of his chest plate.
"Do you even see yourself?" Darth Vader countered, pointing at her, and she tried to smack the hand away, but instead he gripped her wrist and held it hard.
"Let go of me!"
"Padmé, I am trying to keep you alive."
"Why? Why do you care what happens to me, now that you have my children in your control?"
The voice in his head was yelling at the top of his lungs now, yelling of how much he still cared for her, despite her betrayal. "You already know why."
She bristled and continued. "If you cared about me at all, you wouldn't take any of my children away! Anakin would never do such a thing to me."
He clenched his jaw, trying to quell his rising temper. "It is for the best."
"How can you be so heartless?" she asked with disbelief.
Vader was silent, not knowing how to answer that. He released her wrist, and Padmé took a shaky step back. "If you take my baby away from me, you might as well kill me."
"You will not be dying. Do not say such a thing," he admonished forcefully, becoming angrier by the second.
"So where will you send my baby? Or is that another word for…" Padmé's mouth trembled and she looked away.
Vader breathed, not knowing if he was going to go through with removing her child, but another part of him ridiculed his weakness over something so trivial as an unborn infant.
"An orphanage has been selected."
After a few shaky breaths, Padmé shook her head with disbelief and her voice cracked. "If your mother could see you now…"
"Silence," he warned.
Getting increasingly annoyed and confused by the conflict within him, he took a menacing step forward, intending to intimidate. Now that he was finally getting a reaction out of her, he wanted her to see how things could be turned around, if only she would listen to him.
"You will see in time this was for the best."
"For the best?!" she turned on him. "How are you are so blind!?"
"I said enough-"
"You're still a slave can't you see it? You're no freer now than when you were enslaved to Watto!" she cried, waving her hands. "Except Palpatine has cost you everything! You threw away everyone who cared about you. You have pulled apart my family and my happiness, for the second time. I don't even know if my family on Naboo are alive because of you!" tears were flowing down her cheeks now. "Your whole life is a burning inferno that has scorched everyone who stood close enough to love you!"
Vader was stunned into silence. He'd wanted to get a reaction out of her, but now he was instantly regretting that decision. Before he could gather his thoughts to silence her, she continued, leaning against the chair and shaking her head with a look of pity in her tearful eyes.
"I still miss my Anakin every single day," she half-choked half-sobbed. "But you killed him. You killed my wonderful husband. You killed Luke and Leia's father. You killed Obi-Wan's best friend, his brother. How could you, how could you? How could you do it?!" she all but screamed at him.
"I am not here to discuss Ana-"
"And now you want to destroy my life a second time? I won't let you!"
"Padmé-" he became alarmed at how distraught she had become, as if all her pent-up emotions from the last week were suddenly pouring out now. In fact, she had not had the chance to let out her frustrations at him before, and there must be years of anguish behind her emotional display.
"Obi-Wan pulled me and the twins up from the ashes, he worked hard, protected us, raised Luke and Leia in a loving home," she interrupted him again. "He was more of a father to them than you could ever be! We were happy! Why couldn't you leave us alone?!"
"You are becoming hysterical. Lie down," he ordered, pointing at the bed and trying to take her arm with his other hand. He was getting increasingly worried that her emotional state would somehow injure her, and her words were cutting him far more deeply than he would admit.
"Don't touch me, you murderer!" she cried out, pushing herself away from him, repulsed. "Don't you dare lay a finger on me!"
As she was struggling in his iron grip Padmé's face screwed up in pain and she gasped as another contraction rippled through her lower body. She collapsed onto him and he quickly helped her back to the chair, holding her small body in his mechanical arms.
This time the pain must've been more intense as she couldn't hold back a cry and a look of genuine fear passed over her features.
"Is it starting?" he demanded, looking at TC-909 for an explanation. His heart was hammering.
The droid, who had been watching the argument, hovered around her and conducted a quick scan.
"TC, I think…my water…" Padmé looked shell-shocked, glancing downwards.
"Mistress Padmé's water has broken" he said matter-of-factly, closing his scanning equipment. "Judging by the shortening time periods between her contractions, it is a safe conclusion to make that her labour will begin now."
"Call for assistance to get her to the medcentre," he ordered. "Now!"