All under Heaven
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Chapter 2
Anakin lay awake all night, pondering his options. Not that he had many. If he continued pleading guilty on all charges, he would die, but on the other hand he could convince those who supported him that he had deserved that fate after all. And that would forestall any conflict a death sentence might otherwise cause. If he changed his tactics, pleading not guilty on those charges he thought had been justified actions on his part, he may be able to redeem himself in the eyes of some, but Gita had made it very clear that the majority would not care. But the majority did not judge him, Firek Nab did. And he was certain that he would still die. On the other hand he did not want to rekindle the conflict now that he had fought so hard to achieve peace with the Empire. And the polls that evening had shown plainly that this trial was polarizing the New Republic along the old borders. It was infuriating, really, that he had not foreseen this. He should never have come back. Never.
"Anakin?" Daala mumbled sleepily and wrapped an arm around his torso. "You need some rest, you know?"
"I can sleep when I'm dead," he answered harshly and regretted his words almost immediately when he felt her stiffen against his back. She took her hand away again and for a while all he could hear was her steady breathing.
"Don't tell me you are giving up."
"How could I? There is still so much to do."
"I already told you that you can't do everything. Your son can handle this easily. And as far as I recall you yourself told him to let go and make his own choices."
"Yes, I did. True."
"Anakin."
"Hm?"
"Tell me that you will not leave me again."
"I will always be with you, Daala, wherever I go."
"Not what I wanted to hear," she huffed indignantly and bit his shoulder hard. "Why can't you just run? Why can't you be a coward for once?"
"Daala, you must understand that—"
"I understand, believe me. But I am not prepared to put up with your sacrifices."
"What do you mean?"
"Forget it. I did not mean it that way."
But the lie burned in his mind for the rest of the night as they kept silent, both pretending very hard that they were asleep. Daala could not know that what she had told him there had so reminded him of how he and Amidala had grown apart from each other, their duties leaving them less and less time together. But this was worse, because Ami had known what was expected of him and had accepted that. Daala did not. And that was only because she too had an image of him that belied his true self. She thought that he was a warrior and his stance on the trial in her eyes had to seem the most alien thing he could do at all. In a way she had always seen him as the stronger part of their relationship, someone who never gave up, regardless of the odds.
But he was older now, wiser, and his latest experience with death had taught him that he could not simply throw himself away. It was as if the Force had given him a sign, telling him that there was more to remorse than trying to righten the wrong. In a way he had no right to be alive at all. And yet he wanted to live badly. Then what if he ran away? Would he really betray those who loved him? Would they not be happy to see him alive? Would he not have a chance to go on fighting, to oppose evil where he found it? And wasn't he just trying to run from the truth? It had all seemed so clear back on Byss, so easy. But it wasn't. He knew that his children understood, and Leia had proven her insight by testifying against him. Of course, that had been Gita's plan all along, to show that Leia had had no choice in the matter of the Truce, but it had also served to show that the Princess had not forgiven her father at that point.
He was not even sure if she had by now. And still, he knew that Leia loved him, almost as much as he loved her and her brother, as much as he loved Daala. What a mess. And it was all his fault.
"Daala," he whispered, turning around to lie on his back.
After a while he felt her hand in his, their fingers intertwining gently at first, but then her grip became tighter, more a demand than a caress. For a second he considered taking his hand away again. And then he asked himself why that thought had ever crossed his mind. He loved her too, after all. Or did he? With a low groan Anakin sat bolt upright, trying to shed the confusion that held his mind prisoner. Tomorrow he would have to leave her, and he was not sure if they could ever be together like this again. Daala's face was a pale oval of hurt as she looked up at him, her mouth drawn in a thin line, her green eyes flashing. Anakin smiled at her, then reached out to trace his index finger along her nose, tapping the soft tip playfully. Her expression did not change. She knew him too well for that. With a tiny sigh he rose unsteadily, shaking his head. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but words could not even come close to expressing what he felt.
"Anakin, where are you going?"
"Out."
"Now?"
He hesitated before answering. How could he explain to her that it hurt too much staying here with her in the certain knowledge that it may well be the last time? He was afraid to lose her, truly afraid, and as always, when dealing with something he could not control, like his emotions, the only options he gave himself were attack or retreat. Since attack would only result in defeat here, he would leave.
"I ... need some time alone."
It sounded false even in his ears and the rustle of bedcloth behind him, paired with Daala's icy silence and the anger and hurt he sensed from her, struck him like a hammerblow, making him flinch. What a fool he was. Her naked feet did not make any sound on the soft carpet, but he could feel her coming closer. When she walked around to stand in front of him Anakin gave her a tiny smile. As if that would ease any of her pain.
"You want to protect me, am I right?" He nodded slowly. "Well, then let me tell you that I do not care for any protection if you are not honest with me. Why are you leaving?"
As she stood there, all outrage and haughty pride, he could barely keep himself from wrapping her in his arms, pulling her close, feeling her body against his skin. Her presence alone made him shiver, filling his mind with happiness and desire. Making him weak, distracting him. There was nothing he could afford less at this time. Anakin knew that his children could take care of themselves, and that they loved him. But they did not need him, not the way he needed Daala. And now, faced again with a choice between life and death, he found that if he could not sever those bonds that held his heart chained to hers, he would do something unreasonable. The last time settling the peace with the Empire had been the most important of his goals and he had been willing to die for it, to leave her behind. But this time, there was only Daala. Nothing else. Heaving a deep sigh he lay his hands on her shoulders gently and bent forward to kiss her forehead. She closed her eyes, leaning against him slowly.
"If I do not leave, my love, this trial will be the least of our worries."
The man was no more than a shadow against the backdrop of the city lights as he stood on the balcony of the apartment building where he had found shelter. Shelter—a word that he had had no use for ever since his early youth. But now it was all he had, all he desired. Shuddering with the memory of the past he gripped the metal railing with both hands, until his knuckles were as white as bone. His mouth was one hard, grim line and his blue eyes met the cold lights with a fire of their own. It was a defiant flame that burned in that icy sea, one that had been almost extinguished in his battle for survival over the previous years. But he had not perished, oh no. He was free again and he was back home. Coruscant. It had been seven years ago that he had last been to the capital and he was astounded at how little had changed. Well, some things had, or rather, some people. And on the other hand some things never changed.
Walking back into the small, crowded room he had come to call home for lack of any other suitable word he dropped on the dirty mattress, his eyes fixed on the holoscreen tiredly. Another discussion on the trial. He almost had had enough of them and the way they made his blood boil with impotent fury. There had been times when he had not felt this helpless, times when he had been the cockiest and most unconcerned assassin around. He had had an employer who had grudgingly respected his skills, a job that had appealed to him and the opportunity to repay a debt to a people that had helped him out when he had really needed it. He had not been a bad man at heart, just a careless, carefree gambler. But not anymore.
"There is a way."
He almost flinched at the sudden sound of that hated voice. Closing his eyes he faced the being that dwelt inside his head, his lips drawn back in a silent snarl.
"What way?" he asked harshly.
The being's flat face was snowy white, glistening like the skin of some nocturnal larvae. Its eyes were without life as it regarded him steadily, standing tall against the background of the desert mountains. He looked into those blind blue eyes, rimmed by pink sores that were puffed up, as if it had been crying for an eternity. And it had, the man knew. He had heard its sobs in his dreams each and every night for seven years.
"Talk to him."
"He has given himself up. Can't you see that?"
"He is a warrior. He will not give up, just as you won't."
"I cannot approach him. Did you not listen? They are transferring him into a prison, now that he has pleaded guilty to the first charges."
"And that is frightening you?"
He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the memory. To no avail.
"Yes," he whispered.
The next day Turve Glat was slinking around the prison complex, but there was no way he was going to see the defendant by any legal means. And Skywalker's daughter refused to see him too. Great, just great. Everyone was getting information except for him. It was just not fair! He had uncovered this, he was the one who had made this happen! Yeah, and did you think they would thank you for it? Growling under his breath he turned around to leave again when he saw Gita Deron walk into the hallway. She stopped short upon seeing him, her face creasing into a frown. "Mister Glat," she said curtly, pushing past him on her way to her client. He ran after her, angry.
"Wait! Wait," he huffed when she had finally stopped to face him. He really should start losing some pounds. "I want to see him."
She arched her eyebrows coolly: "Really? Fancy that. Is that all?"
Before she could turn away again he slipped past her, blocking the way. "Why not? Is someone else in there with him?"
Gita Deron shook her head grimly: "You don't get it, do you? The trial is open to the public and the President's press office keeps the media posted. Apart from that, I fear, you will have to resort to speculation."
"This is important."
"What is?"
"I can tell only him," he insisted and she laughed at that.
"Mister Glat, I admire your inventiveness, but there is nothing you can do."
And then she really was going. Turve was left behind, looking like a fool. No, he was a fool. "Damn!" he cursed whole-heartedly. There had to be a way, there simply had to be another way.
Gita walked into the high security area of the complex, clearing three checks before a guard led her to the section the New Republic had reserved for the Dark Lord. The government had gone to quite an impressive effort to make this prison as secure as possible. But Gita had no doubt that Anakin would have no problem whatsoever to leave if he chose to. The warden took her into his custody with a small smile.
"He has some visitors," he told her pleasantly and she nodded.
"I know. How long have they been here?"
"A few hours. They had to interrupt the visit, see?"
"What for?" Gita frowned at the man, uncertain. Was there something they had not told her? Apparently so. "What? Spit it out, come on!"
He backed away, his smile deepening: "Nothing bad, don't worry."
"Can I see him now?" Her voice had turned very cold indeed.
"Of course."
The twins turned tired eyes on her as she entered the visitor room, a dull, windowless chamber with only one entrance. And that one was guarded by four soldiers, two on each side of the door. "Master Skywalker, Madam President." Gita nodded at them and then her eyes sought Anakin's gaze. He was smiling faintly. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"What was that about some interruption of the visit?"
"Nothing. It was nothing," he was quick to appease her.
"A transmitter," Luke said calmly, ignoring his father's frown.
"What transmitter?"
"A transplant, to keep an eye on him," Leia added.
"I suppose I should have seen something like that coming," Gita conceded before taking a seat. "Are you quite comfortable apart from that?"
"Really, you should not worry, all of you," Skywalker said again, standing slowly.
When one of the guards flinched Gita knew that he had not only been talking to her and his children. He was eyeing them coolly, as if he expected an attack at any moment.
"This is not so bad, actually. There is nothing to distract me here. It is quiet and I can calm down a bit."
Luke suppressed a small laugh: "Father, you are always keeping busy. I can hear your thoughts ticking away in that thick skull of yours, as restless as ever. But if you say that you are comfortable..."
"I am," Anakin told them firmly. And that was it.
Gita regarded him for a long time as neither of them spoke for a while. Finally she heaved a tiny sigh: "Please, if we could discuss the trial?"
The twins took the cue and Leia went forward to hug her father tightly. "Daala will come by later," she murmured.
"Sure. Thank you. Give my regards to Han and the kids."
"Of course."
"Father," Luke said, blinking deep blue eyes. "Any help you need..."
"I know. Thank you, Luke."
Once they had excused themselves Gita threw a hard glance at the remaining two guards.
"They don't trust you."
"I don't trust them either," he replied coolly, giving the guards a tight smile.
"Oh, good."
"Leia asked me why they could bring up the Byss charge at all. She still does see the world in black and white."
"Frustrating, isn't it? What did you answer?"
"That the Empire is part of the New Republic now. They can charge me with virtually everything I did."
"You don't say. Ur'tek will bring up Alderaan next, I am sure. Anything I should know there?"
"Nothing you don't already know. I did not prevent it, although I was in a position to do so."
"Not again," Gita sighed. "Palpatine would have killed you. We have been through that already."
"I did not protest."
"Oh, wonderful. Maybe you want to take Ur'tek's job? You would make a great attorney. Really. The defendant would not stand any chance at all."
"Thinking about it, that is actually not such a bad idea..."
"Spare me, your lordship. You are neither good at telling lies nor telling jokes."
He shrugged: "Fact is, we cannot win this one."
"Quite the optimist. Now, let's get down to business."
Stalking the underground of Coruscant, he let his thoughts drift. He had caught up on recent events in the public library and had been quite impressed by the speed at which things had happened. Speed. He shuddered with dread, remembering the surge of adrenaline as he had charged into the open, his senses alert, his ears trying to pick up the quiet 'click' as the system activated. The whir of servomotors, the whine of laser bolts whipping past him, the sudden pain... He sighed deeply.
"Can I help you?" a husky voice asked, but the woman flinched away when his cold eyes turned on her.
"I doubt it," he said sarcastically and started walking faster.
"Turve, you know I like you," the man said, bringing a smile to the reporter's lips. "But why don't you let it go? Find yourself another story. This is not worthy of your time. Everyone is reporting on the trial. That guy you told me about, that mysterious stranger. Why don't you try to find him again? That sounds like an interesting story."
"Sure, sure. But where do I start?"
"You are the investigator. I just publish your stuff."
"I know, Jellan. I know, believe me."
"Look. Take your time, but get me the story. We need an edge over this trial thing."
"But everyone is talking about it!"
"Once he's dead noone will even remember. There may be some holo-dramas, a documentary or two, but by then we will need something new. Something noone else has. So get me the exclusive rights and I'll get you the Tahnera Prize."
When he had left Jellan's office, walking the great hallways of the J.A.F. MediaGroup, Turve was already busy trying to determine how he could find his quarry. Apparently the man had something to hide, so he would lie low. Which meant that he could definitely rule out the more exclusive parts of the city. Time to activate some of his informants. He hurried into his office as quickly as he could, heated up some food and started munching while typing messages into his datapad. A description, that was what he needed: new in town, average height, dark, graying hair, blue eyes, definitely a professional. People like that did not just hang around anywhere. But where? That was the tricky question. A slow smile spread on his lips when he realized that he knew someone he could ask. He just had to get past his watchdog. Gita Deron was not easy to fool and she was as hard as durasteel when it came to protecting her clients' interests. But he would get her in the end.
Judge Nab eyed Anakin with an open expression, seeming very alert and composed. The crowd though was in a foul mood, greeting the defendant with a chorus of shouted insults and threats. It took the wardens some time to calm them down and it was all Luke could do to not simply stand up and leave. He hated this display of emotions, the sadistic hunger he felt from them as they hung there in their seats or from the galleries, leering at the judge, at the witnesses, at the man whose face bore a slightly bored expression, as if he did not care at all for what was going on around him. But Luke could feel his father's anguish, the shame and anger. It was a dangerous time for Anakin Skywalker, very dangerous indeed, and the Jedi Master was not certain if the Court had taken this danger into consideration at all. He doubted it. Yet there was nothing else for him to do than offer his father his silent support, by being there with him.
"Mister Ur'tek, I believe you wanted to bring in another charge," Firek Nab said calmly, nodding toward the attorney. The Twi'lek bounded out of his chair, a triumphant smirk on his lips.
"Alderaan, Your Honor. I would like to question Lord Skywalker on the planet's destruction."
Luke watched his father take the witness seat, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Lord Skywalker, who informed you of Wilhuff Tarkin's plan to destroy the homeworld of Princess Leia?"
"He did, himself."
"What were his motives?"
"He was trying to gain information on the Rebels' current base of operations."
"Was there no other way?"
"No."
"No. I see. Yet we know that you had the Princess tortured beforehand, in your own attempt to get at that information."
"Yes."
Luke winced at the renewed shouts rising from the audience.
"So you had your daughter tortured?"
"Yes."
Ur'tek gave the defendant a quizzical glance. Undoubtedly he had expected him to justify his actions by claiming that he had not known about Leia's parentage. But Luke understood that his father saw no sense in anything like that. It would not make a difference anyway.
"When Wilhuff Tarkin told you about his plans concerning Alderaan, how did you react?"
"It was the logical step to take, since all other means had failed."
"You did not protest?"
"I thought it a shameless waste, but any interference would have been too high a risk."
"Too high a risk for what?"
"I was, Mister Ur'tek, very close to reaching the place I wanted to, as the Emperor's most trusted agent. I did not want to risk his displeasure with my actions."
"So Alderaan was sacrificed for your ambition?"
"It was sacrificed for the sake of information."
The angry roars became louder, the volume intensifying to an almost deafening level. Luke frowned at the audience, their angry faces, as he shut down his Force-enhanced perception quickly to keep from being overwhelmed by the hostile atmosphere. Turning towards the others again he saw his father smile coldly.
"But—" Ur'tek seemed at a loss of how to continue. "But the Princess gave you a name, a planet. Dantooine, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then of what use was Alderaan's destruction, if I may ask?"
Anakin shifted in his seat, his eyes becoming slits of blue ice: "I learned only later that Alderaan was to be destroyed no matter what. As an example to others. Opposition to the Emperor was always greatest on that world, so eliminating the planet was also very logical."
"Millions of innocents died. Would it not have been more efficient and less painful to simply have the opposition leaders executed?"
"It is—remarkable—that you speak of pain, Mister Ur'tek. Alderaan's destruction was indeed painful. Not only for the Rebellion. More painful than the mere execution of its leaders would have been. Terror, Mister Ur'tek, is a most effective weapon."
The attorney gave the former Dark Lord a desperate smile.
"And you could sanction all this?"
"Why not? In a war people die. Innocent or not."
It was all the wardens could do to keep the crowd from storming down into the pit of the Senate Chamber's arena. Luke felt his teeth clench in sudden dread. Why was Anakin so boldly defending his position? There was no remorse here, only facts, his view on things as Darth Vader.
"Lord V...Skywalker. Thank you."
"Miss Deron, would you like to question the witness?"
"Yes, Your Honor, I have quite a few questions." Gita's mouth was drawn into a grim line. Understandably, since Ur'tek had left her nothing but burned ground, literally.
"Anakin Skywalker, did you fear the Emperor?"
"He was my master."
"That does not answer my question. Were you afraid or was it only ambition that led your actions, or rather inaction, on board the first Death Star?"
"Both."
"So your master would have punished you for interfering?"
"Yes, most certainly."
"Had he punished you before?"
"Yes."
"In what manner?"
Anakin gave the lawyer a cold smile: "If I may ask, what has that got to do with Alderaan?"
"Lord Skywalker, please answer the question," the Judge admonished him, a cold edge in her voice. Gita looked ready to explode.
"Very well. It is—a bit hard to explain. Physical punishment as well as psychological."
"I assume that it was sufficient to make you fear him. Enough to not act against Tarkin's order. And yet you killed the Emperor later. Why?"
"The risk not to act was too high."
"What if you had lost in that fight?"
"I did lose."
"You killed him."
"And died."
"Tell me, what did you fight for?"
"For my son's life."
"Which was worth more to you than your ambition?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
"Of course, it was also a good excuse for opposing the Emperor."
"What?"
"Well, he was the only obstacle—"
"Thank you, but that is quite beside the point."
Luke's face had turned ashen when Judge Nab shot a meaningful glance at Anakin, telling him that he may return to his seat. Gita's posture spoke volumes and Luke did not want to be in his father's shoes once those two were alone together again. Then maybe, he did not want to be in Gita's either.
"If you do not want me to continue leading your defense I will gladly pass your case on to someone else."
Gita's tone made it clear that she was highly serious, and it was all Anakin could do not to smile at her outraged expression.
"I believe that you are most capable."
"Really? And yet you shoot down my defense at every turn. We have to work together. You told me that you want redemption, yet you continue accusing yourself as if all you desire were death."
"I was merely telling the truth."
"But you don't have to tell all of it!" she screamed, pounding her fist on the small table separating them, making the two guards standing by the door flinch as one man. "That last remark was absolutely unnecessary! It was sadistic, evil and above all—"
"True."
"Shut up!"
Anakin regarded her calmly, waiting for her to regain her cool composure. It did not take her long, and when she was her old self again she cleared her throat once and closed her eyes.
"Gita, you want me to deny myself. You want me to deny that I am cold, that I am ruthless. I am not nice. Not anymore. And I never will be again."
She stared at him for a while, then nodded in understanding: "Alright. Have it your way then. How about this. Kyp Durron and Gantoris destroyed more than just one planet when under the sway of the Dark Side. They both were let off."
"They were not let off, the Jedi left the New Republic. Their death had already been decided. And I don't want the Court to get the funny idea that those two should be executed after all."
A reasonable point, Gita had to admit. Unfortunately all of his points were undeniably logical. It was frustrating.
"As I recall your son made a deal with the Republic, claiming that Jedi are to be judged by the Jedi according to the Code, right?"
He looked at her, disbelief mingling with amusement in his cool blue eyes. When he finally answered his tone was very gentle, but his rough voice brought an edge to his words, making her shiver:
"And how do you think the Jedi would judge someone like me?"
Gita swallowed hard. This was getting them nowhere, literally. "He is your son," she managed at last.
"And yet he has a duty towards the Jedi, one that cannot allow him to build on compassion, if he wants to keep them strong. And that he has to, or else they will be imperiled again. I have told him so before, and he has understood. I do not doubt that Luke would judge me fairly, but the outcome would still be the same."
"No way?"
"No."
"You are not making this easy for me, you know?"
He smiled faintly, then shook his head. "Look, I agreed to this trial because I thought we could get this over with quickly—"
"But we can't! If there is any chance to change your mind—"
"Please, do not interrupt me again. Simply listen. The trial being this public is causing a rift I sought to avoid, but we cannot go back. So we can only play this to the end, with as much dignity as we can muster."
"And then you will die?"
"Yes."
"I do not understand you."
"Then let me tell you this: for a while I deluded myself. I craved nothing but peace, independence and some normalcy, things I had known for only a very short time in my life. There were always other things to consider, duties to fulfill, deeds to justify. Now that I am older I feel that I have become softer, weaker, than I was before. I still want peace, and my freedom is something I would not give up for anything in this galaxy, not even for my family."
"But your life is as precious as that of any other, Anakin," Gita injected in a hushed whisper, without realizing that she was calling him by his first name.
"I know," he answered with a smile. "But by my deeds I have abused that gift I was given, and nothing I can do will heal the wounds I inflicted on it. On myself and others."
"So you would rather not live than live with this burden? The easy way out? You?"
"It is by no way the easy way out, but the one way that won't hurt anyone else. I know myself. I know what I would do, if given leave to do as I please. I would take over control, trying to shape this galaxy after the fashion I see fit, regardless of what other people want or desire."
"What are you telling me? That there is still some of Darth Vader left in you?"
"For heaven's sake, Gita!" he almost shouted. "I am Darth Vader!" Calming down again his eyes turned to ice as he concluded: "And don't ever forget that."
For a long time she was silent, trying to sort out her feelings. You let yourself get distracted by his smile. He is not a bad man and yet he is the worst there can be. He feels no remorse and yet he sees that what he has done is evil. But he has realized that he cannot change it anymore, no matter what.
He sat in the darkest corner of the gloomiest bar he had found in the underground, seeking the least exposed position, with his back guarded by the reassuringly thick wall. There was no way anyone could approach him without him spotting them first. Not that he expected anyone to even remember him. Therefore it was more than surprising when three men came towards him from the bar. His left hand unconsciously wandered towards the blaster hanging from his belt, his intense eyes kept fixed on the threesome.
"Are you Wrenga Jixton?" the first asked.
"I am not sure myself. You tell me."
"He is definitely Corellian," the second commented with a smile.
"And you are dead," the man hissed, already moving.
Turve Glat blinked tired eyes at the screen in front of him. Apparently his informants had made first contact with his quarry. Wrenga Jixton, former Gunnery Sergeant and combat instructor at the Imperial Academy of Carida. He had vanished years ago. Why was he back now? That was the big question. A secret, he had told him, but what secret was that? One thing was clear. He had to find Jixton, talk to him. And survive.
Sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall he had closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. But he found that he could not. There was too much going on in his head, literally. The desert being was humming a tune to itself and once again it occurred to the Corellian that they had never been formally introduced. He grimaced at the memory, the confusion he had felt, had felt from the being. The pain as the thing had tried to break free from his mind.
"Could we please not think about that?"
He smiled.
"Sure. And can you stop humming? It is getting on my nerves."
"Of course." The being's amusement was mirroring his own.
"I just realized that I never asked your name."
"Really?"
"I am Jix. And you are?"
The feeling he got from the being was that of dry desert heat, of a hot wind caressing his cheeks and the glare of the bright midday sun in his eyes. There was no sense of individuality there, just a oneness with the desert, the mountains, the sky. Jix was taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the sight, the endless horizon, the clear blue sky. Suddenly the cold, starlit night arched across his vision, the blackness of space with glimmering diamonds scattered across its endless satin canvas. Sheer awe filled his mind and he felt tears stream down his cheeks.
"All under heaven are one. Names have no meaning here."
"But that is just memories, or isn't it?"
"It is all I have left and all that I need."
Daala sat back in the couch, watching the news with a grim expression. She had not talked to Anakin after that fateful interrogation on the subject of Alderaan. His lawyer had not thought it wise to confront him about it right now, and in a way Daala was glad. They had not spoken much since he had been transferred to the prison complex and frankly she hated seeing him caged like that. It was against his nature and against hers as well. And that served as a good excuse for not seeing him. There was no way she would forgive him that he had distanced himself from her like that, treating her like a child. At least she would not forgive him just yet. Of course, if she did not make up her mind fast she might not get the chance anyway.
Turning off the holo she rose and strode into the kitchenette to prepare some food. That was something else she had to keep in mind. It was not she on trial and she should not be so nervous. As if it were easy for her, seeing her love in that situation, helpless, even if he had chosen his position voluntarily. Anakin was a fool, a proud, stubborn fool. A soft noise brought her head up and her eyes narrowed.
"Anyone there?" she asked and waited, her ears perking up in an effort to hear anything.
Frowning slightly she looked around the apartment, but could not find anything. Finally she opened the door leading out to the balcony. Stepping outside Daala looked around, rubbing her arms to fight the cold night air assaulting her from all sides. And then a sudden movement caught her attention. Something was stalking through the gardens just underneath. She leaned forward cautiously to see better. When a torch flared up all of a sudden Daala flinched back, blinded at first. And then, just before the pain struck her, a deafening noise hit her like thunder.
Luke Skywalker rushed into the high security complex, guards and wardens blocking his way, but he pushed past them almost brutally. A wall of rage hit him as he neared what he perceived as a black hole of darkness, and what he knew to be the source of all this excitement and fear. When he had heard the news he had immediately left the Jedi's newly founded academy here on Coruscant, telling himself over and over again that if they could master that crisis they had nothing to fear anymore. Leia had called him on the way, her despair almost palpable. She had asked him to protect everyone, if he could.
Which was remarkable in itself. But then, they both knew that if anyone did not need any protection it was their father.
When Luke finally reached the room that was Anakin Skywalker's cell he was not surprised to see it crowded by security personnel. In the midst of it all Anakin was striding the expanse of the room restlessly, apparently trying very hard to vent his anger without hurting anyone. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes burning with a fire that threatened to sear anyone who came too close. Dozens of blaster rifles were trained on the Jedi Lord and more pairs of frightened eyes than Luke cared to count were tracking his every move. If he could not ease the situation fast someone might pull the trigger out of sheer terror.
"Excuse me," the Jedi Master said in a loud and clear voice, trying to gain their attention.
Rounding on him his father growled softly, then came forward briskly, his hands balled into fists tightly.
"I want to see her," he hissed, paying no heed to the guards surging back at his approach, confusion plain on their faces.
"Please, calm down," Luke said, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Anakin immediately slapped his arm away, his eyes turning impossibly cold. Luke swallowed hard.
"It would not be a good idea right now," he told him soothingly.
"Not a good idea. Really." Baring his teeth at him his father pushed him aside unceremoniously. But he came up short against a wall of weaponry. With an angry snarl Anakin flicked his hands at the soldiers, making not only Luke flinch when metal snapped with a loud cracking noise. "Get out of my way!" he roared. The first few rows of guards were thrown back into the corridor, as he made his way out.
"Father!" Luke called, eyes wide with despair. What was he to do? If he let him go Anakin would never make it, regardless of all his power. He was far too agitated to think clearly or to act fast enough. And on the other hand, if he tried to stop him... Well, better himself than innocent people. The low snap-hiss of his lightsaber being ignited brought Anakin's head around. Blue eyes narrowing he stared at Luke, an angry frown slashed across his forehead.
"You dare," he whispered, his voice choked with fury.
Luke could feel his father's wrath gathering like a storm over his head, ready to strike at any moment. But he stood his ground nevertheless. Squaring his shoulders he nodded at Anakin:
"Father, you have to calm down. There is nothing you can do for her that others could not. She is in good hands, believe me. And killing those who hurt her will not heal her faster."
The look of hurt crossing the other's face almost broke his heart.
"I do not want to lose her again, do you understand?"
"You will not lose her, I promise."
When Anakin suddenly whirled around with a snarl, turning his back on him, Luke almost jumped. Over his father's shoulder he could see two women, frozen in place. Leia had raised her arms in a soothing gesture, tears brimming her eyes as her mouth worked soundlessly, whereas Gita Deron's face could have been used as a hammer, she looked so cold. Luke heaved a tiny sigh, feeling the tension break. Stepping forward he raised his hand to touch Anakin's shoulder. He never saw the attack coming and by the time his father's elbow hit his chest it was too late to react already. The blow lifted him off his feet and then he felt something slap his face hard.
Someone screamed—Luke thought it was Leia—as he crashed against the wall. For a second he was frantic, praying that his lightsaber had not hurt anyone. But then the Jedi Master was back in the here and now, dread gripping his heart in an iron fist, squeezing hard, when he saw Anakin kneel on the floor, gasping in surprise. He was holding himself upright, propped up on his hands, but he looked stunned. Which he probably was, judging by the smug expression of the soldier standing right behind him, the muzzle of his blaster rifle resting against the prisoner's neck lightly. Luke scrambled to his feet and lurched towards his father, dropping down next to him. He wrapped his arms around Anakin's shoulders, holding him tight. Leaning his head against the other's neck he tried to soothe him, tried to find the calm center in his mind. But there was only turmoil there. Chaos and pain and anger. "It will be alright. Everything will be alright," Luke whispered in his ear, but he could not even convince himself.
TBC