Chapter 8: Tenetur
Armour dripping and sodden cloak flapping; Vader stood rigid by the foot of the stone steps, listening to the soft thud of his apprentice's boots as she walked away. Lifting his left hand, he held it out, palm to the sky and stared.
"My love? You already have that. You just don't know what to do with it. You never have."
The words echoed in his head. Mingled with the rain as it continued to fall. Droplets splashed on his glove and pooled in the middle; the small puddle gently rippling across the black leather. The residual image of Padmè's pleading eyes stared back at him. Once determined and defiant — now littered with fear.
Fear of him.
Scrunching his fingers together, he crushed the pooling water in his fist. It escaped between the cracks of his knuckles and slowly trickled to the floor. Flashbacks of her choking on Mustafar flooded his vision. He'd vowed never to touch her out of anger again. Yet ... he'd done exactly that. His iron grip seizing her jaw. Forcefully wrenching her head back to look him square in the eyes of his lenses.
He slumped forward. What had he done?
A gust of wind buffeted his cloak. The ethereal form of Darth Malgus appeared beside him.
"The hardest battle is seldom fought on the battlefield, Lord Vader," Malgus stated. "Rather, within the confines of one's own mind."
He let out an exhausted sigh and allowed both arms to fall limp. "I never picked you for a prophet, Malgus."
The Sith-ghost chuckled and turned to him. "I suppose it did have a rather Jedi-ish ring to it. But then again, you never were one for prophecies, were you?"
Inside the suit, he gritted his teeth and looked to the late Sith. His golden eyes shimmered through the rain, their burning glow defying the shadowed cowl of his robe. The twin red lights positioned either side of his triangular respirator, reflected off of his own mask's curved lenses. Vader folded his arms. "Prophecies are as foolish, as the fools who choose to believe in them," he hissed. He turned his gaze back to the rain and stiffened. "Nonsensical fairy tales designed to instil hope in the weak."
Malgus shook his head. "Still so bitter," he scolded. "Do you recall what I said to you, when you first came to me?"
Vader thought back to the palace, back to when he'd found the holocron in the old Jedi temple archives. "You told me... I needed to fix myself."
"That your mind and body were broken, and you had to find your focus," Malgus reminded him.
"Yes. I remember," Vader said, spinning to face him. If this was about to turn into a lecture, he really wasn't in the mood. The serum was burning, searing its way through every vein and muscle still left in his body. Add that to the crippling guilt he was currently feeling after striking out against Padmè, and he was left in one of the darkest moods he'd experienced in a long time. "What about it?"
"You didn't listen, and instead have gone backwards."
Backwards? So he'd failed there too. Failed as a son, as a Jedi, as a husband, as a father... and now he was failing as a Sith. Was there truly no end to this madness? He squeezed his fists tight. "Perhaps, if I had known what you'd wanted—" Vader growled.
"—It isn't about what I want, Vader," Malgus interjected. "This is about you. What you want. And just how far you are willing to go to achieve it." The ethereal Sith folded his armour-clad arms and stared him down. "To become the victor, you must first stop thinking like a victim. Accept who you are, and the choices you've made. Recognise the past for what it is — the past. Until then you will forever be dominated and controlled by it. Either by your own guilt and self-pity, or by others, like Sidious, who know how to use it to manipulate you."
Vader dropped his gaze to the floor. It was true, what he'd said. All of it. Right down to his past being used against him. He sighed. "Just as I had done with Syrennè," he admitted.
"Ah, yes. Your new apprentice," Malgus said. "She is coming along rather nicely. Interesting powers..." He chuckled. "It seems, you are quite the lady's man."
"She is a child!" Vader snarled, perhaps a little too defensively. "But her skills are unique. I believe she may be a whisperer." His com-unit chimed. He looked to his wrist then turned to Malgus. "Speaking of which, she is waiting for me at the main hangar. Syrennè has assembled the crew for my wife's ship. They are yet to be briefed on their upcoming mission."
Malgus nodded and gestured to the streets. "Come then. We can discuss the particulars of your apprentice's trial on the way."
The two Sith took to the Kaas City streets, their ominous black figures striding side-by-side through the rain.
YAVIN 4: GREAT TEMPLE: MASSASSI HEADQUARTERS
Construction of the base of the ancient temple was nearing completion. It was beginning to look less like a ragtag smuggling operation and more like a well organised rebellion. Probably due to Bail Organa's sudden credit induction funding its renovation. Ships of varying shapes and sizes littered the cavernous chamber, parked all over and connected to mobile fuelling stations. The small freighter that had flown above them the other morning had been moved to the side, giving the shunting team room to manoeuvre the Senator's corvette out into the open in preparation for take-off.
Caleb followed his master through the amassed starfighters and ships waiting in the main hangar. Senator Organa strode ahead of them, talking to someone on his com-unit. His voice was hushed, but the tone was obvious; whoever was on the other end of the call was being cautioned. He wondered if it was the other Jedi he'd previously spoken of. His subdued body language certainly suggested as such. Occasionally he would glance back to Caleb and his master, a sad smile on his face, but he just as quickly turned back. Whoever it was, he seemed to be concerned about them.
"Can you tell who he is talking to, Master?" Caleb asked Ferus, keeping pace beside him.
"No," the older Jedi answered. "But my instincts tell me, it is the Jedi he was talking about yesterday."
"Yeah ... mine too." Caleb sighed and kept walking. They passed a group of mercenaries gathered by the small freighter. They were busy cracking open an assortment of new cargo crates and assessing their latest acquisitions. Unlike their last haul, these were stamped with the Imperial logo.
"I heard them come in last night while you were sleeping," Ferus said, noticing his shift in attention. "An Imperial Cargo Freighter docked at the space station. It didn't go down so well." He sighed and shook his head. "One of the Massassi boys took a blaster bolt to the chest. He was carried in by Commander Delto mumbling something about the cargo being destined for Raada."
"Raada?" Caleb asked, puzzled. "But isn't that where Senator Organa said the other Jedi was hiding out?"
"Yes. I think that is why he is now talking with them," Ferus said.
"If he is so concerned, why doesn't he just tell them to come here? It's not like there isn't enough space."
Ferus kept walking. "The Viceroy's plan is long term, Caleb. He knows that any movement made against the Empire needs to be discreet if it is to be successful. Perhaps he knows the risks of having too many force-sensitives gathered in the one place. Especially now with the Sith being aware of his involvement."
Caleb nodded in understanding. He hadn't considered that fact. One or two Jedi scattered about the galaxy would be difficult to track down — but a large group? And for a Sith Lord like Darth Vader with the depth of power that they'd both felt and sensed back on Naboo? He shivered at the uncomfortable memory. No, they needed to lay low. After all, that was the basic message from Master Kenobi's reconfigured transmission echoing from the Jedi Temple beacon: stay away, stay hidden and trust in the Force.
The thought of the reclusive Jedi Master dragged haunting images of his recurring dream to the forefront of his mind. Visions of Jaina's contorted face as she was impaled by a crimson red lightsaber. Caleb shuddered and fought to push it away, allowing his legs to numbly carry him forward.
They reached the boarding ramp for the Tantive III and stopped, waiting for the Senator to finish with his call.
"I understand," Bail said, pausing at the foot of the ramp. "For now, I'll send through the coordinates on the off-chance you do change your mind. May the Force be with you." He ended the call and turned to face them; his brown eyes distant. "Well, it looks like it's just us for the time being," he said despondently. "I need to see Breha before we continue on to Coruscant. I trust the two of you won't mind if we make a slight detour?"
"Not at all," Ferus answered dropping his hand onto Caleb's shoulder and giving a quick nod. "Caleb and I haven't exactly got a busy schedule to uphold."
Organa chuckled, his mood appearing to lift slightly. "No, I suppose you're right." He gestured to the ramp. "Shall we be on our way then?"
"Lead the way, Senator," Ferus said with a smile.
The trip to Alderaan had been smooth and brief. The Senator's wife had heard reports on the Imperial Holonet detailing an uprising happening in the Outer-rim, and she'd been worried for her husband's safety. It hadn't taken long for him to convince her that he wasn't involved and that their operation was secure. Much to his relief there had been no follow-up visits from the Empire's Supreme Commander or his legion, so for now it seemed they were in the clear and that his people were safe. After some quick goodbyes they were soon back on the ship and jumping to lightspeed for the final leg of their journey.
Caleb stretched in his seat and leaned back in an effort to get more comfortable. He gazed between the backs of Ferus and Bail's heads and out into the starlines of hyperspace, tuning in and out of his Master's conversation with the Senator. Every so often they would say something of interest, but for the most part he found himself drifting off into his own thoughts.
He closed his eyes and felt through the Force, trying to reach out to Jaina. But once again he sensed nothing. Just an empty void where her presence used to be. The not being able to reach her was frustrating. All he wanted to know was that she was safe so he could dismiss his dreams as being purely that — bad dreams. Ferus cleared his throat, the sudden noise distracting him. Caleb tuned back in to their conversation again.
"So Bail, when you and your wife were discussing the uprising in the Outer-rim, you mentioned that you already knew about it," Ferus said.
"Yes, that's right," Bail answered.
"How is that?"
The Senator sighed and clasped his hands together in his lap. "The uprising Breha was talking about was the very same one I was discussing with the Jedi this morning. They informed me that they were leaving the farming moon, that their actions had attracted the attention of the local Imperial garrison."
"Have the com-scanners picked up any transmissions that might confirm that their cover is blown?"
Bail shook his head. "Not as of yet. There has also been no chatter regarding the ambush at the space station. If that is anything to go by, we can assume that the Empire is currently unaware of the situation."
Ferus raked his fingers through the platinum streak in his hair. He didn't appear to be convinced. "That is an awfully risky assumption, Senator," he muttered. "Perhaps it would be wise to abandon the space station all together. Especially now, with your additional funding topping up the Massassi coffers."
"I did suggest that to Colonel Draven and Commander Delto this morning. Neither of them seemed overly keen on giving it back." The Senator sighed and leant forward. "They actually want to try and commandeer another one. One closer to the mid-rim."
"Reckless..." Ferus commented, looking back over his shoulder to Caleb. "What next, Bail? The Massassi mercenaries trying to attack an Imperial star destroyer or taking officers prisoner and holding them hostage?"
"They have two men in custody already, Master Olin," Bail said shaking his head. "An officer and a freight-hand. They brought them in with the stolen cargo last night."
Caleb crossed his arms. They were taking prisoners now? There was no legitimate reason for this other than interrogation. It's not like they could hold them for ransom was it? The Empire was hardly going to hand credits over to a rebel cell in return for one lowly officer and a freight-hand. He snorted in disgust. Both the Senator and his master looked back at him.
"It's hard to tell who's worse," Caleb said bitterly, staring intently into the discerning brown eyes of his master. "The mercenaries ... or the Empire."
DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY
Vader strode down the corridor connected to the concealed underground hangar. Malgus had disappeared shortly before arriving at the sector, leaving him with the knowledge that his apprentice would be guided by him in his absence. He had also assigned him his own task for when he arrived back at Coruscant; one that he wasn't particularly looking forward to.
He reached the trapezoidal blast door and hit the security panel. The reinforced alloy split in two and retracted into the floor and ceiling compartments, revealing the gleaming dark chromium plated hull of the custom Nubian cruiser. He had always loved this model. With its smooth lines and crisp styling, the thirty-nine-meter-long, arrow shaped barge was nothing short of magnificent. He'd had it custom-fitted of course, including state-of-the-art deflector shields, the fastest hyperdrive she could withstand, along with twin laser cannons mounted on the underside of each wing. Even the chromium finish had been specially formulated to appear a pearlescent silver-black as opposed to platinum. Hence her name: The Dark Angel.
Resisting the urge to slide his hand along the surface, he walked around the front of the ship to where Syrennè, Commander Appo and the new crew were waiting. At only five members – two women and three men – it wasn't a large team, but they had each been selected based on demonstrated skills and merit. They stopped talking the instant they spotted him and immediately stood to attention. Cloak rippling behind, Vader strode forward, the thunder of his wet boots echoing on the air. Reaching the group, he thudded to a stop and hooked his thumbs to rest in his belt.
His apprentice quickly moved to his side and bowed her head. Good. She was learning. He regarded her a moment before turning his attention to the rest of them. "Follow me. All of you," he said.
With a beckoning flick of his wrist, he whirled on his heel and guided them back around the wing to the pointed rear-end of the ship. Time was rapidly getting away from him. This briefing was going to need to be kept short. He tapped on his wrist-com and entered the encrypted security code into the transponder. Bursts of pressurized air escaped the underbelly hatch as the passenger ramp lowered to the ground. Not wasting a second, he charged inside, dipping his helmeted head to avoid the overhang.
Vader led them through the opulently appointed cabins to the royal parlour at the front, and positioned himself between them and the door to his wife's new sleeping quarters. He waited for them to gather around. When they were finally settled, he got started. "I am on a tight schedule, so I will keep this briefing short. The purpose of this assignment is to transport, escort and protect Senator Amidala while she infiltrates the developing rebellion."
He gestured to the seats along the parlour walls to where an assortment of different uniforms sat neatly folded. "I have provided uniforms to assist you in blending in. They must be worn at all times." He pointed to the three troopers stood beside Appo. "Commander Bly, you and your men will be the head of security. Your uniforms are those of the Naboo Royal Guard. I trust Commander Appo has informed you of the ... significant importance of your mission?"
The yellow and white armoured trooper nodded. "Yes, my Lord. My men and I are well aware of the delicate situation," Bly answered.
"Good." Vader turned his attention to one of the women. One with long curly black hair and dark skin. "Lieutenant Sloane, have you completed the simulation programs I sent you?"
The woman stood proud and folded her arms. "Yes, Lord Vader."
"You desired an opportunity to prove yourself. This is your chance. I am appointing you: Captain. Do not make me regret it."
"Thank you, sir. I will not let you down."
He snorted and jabbed his finger. "See to it... that you don't." He turned to the other woman, one slightly shorter than Sloane, with ivory skin and long brown hair. She had been chosen largely because of her similar physical appearance to Padmè. As he didn't want Sabè accompanying his wife and trying to convince her into leaving him, he had needed to find a plausible replacement. "Niobè, you will be acting as the Senator's handmaiden. You are to follow her every command. Do not underestimate the difficulty of your assignment."
The brunette nodded. "Yes, my Lord."
Vader started to pace. "When you arrive at my fortress you will be joined by one of the Senator's original handmaidens. I have arranged for her to enlighten you on your duties. Listen to her very carefully." He stopped by the door and turned to face the group again. "Syrennè, Appo. You two remain here. The rest of you... you are dismissed."
The Dark Angel's crew saluted him and exited the ship, leaving Vader, Syrennè and Commander Appo alone. The Sith waited for the blast door to seal shut before speaking. He looked to the trooper. "Commander, I need you to watch over my children while I am gone. Whilst I am confident Kenobi will remain true to his word, I am not so convinced on the handmaiden. If she tries anything, you are to remove her from my family's suite and transfer her to a more secure location."
Appo nodded. "Yes, Lord Vader."
"You are to contact me directly if there are any issues. Whether you deem them to be of importance or not. Is that understood?"
The trooper nodded again. "It will be done, my Lord."
"Good. You may return to your men. I wish to speak with Syrennè alone." He watched the Commander leave the ship then turned to his apprentice. She stared up at him expectantly. "Wait here. I will be out momentarily," he growled, activating the security panel and disappearing through the door to his wife's quarters.
• • •
Vader turned a small black box around in his hands as he escorted his apprentice back to the com-room. Thankfully, Syrennè had chosen to stay quiet for the most part, allowing him to think in peace. He had two things left to do before returning to his ship, both of which were equally unpleasant to contemplate. Reaching the chamber, he strode inside, made his way to the command desk and placed the small box down. He then turned to face his apprentice and sighed.
"What is it, Master?" Syrennè asked, staring up at his mask.
He paused for a moment and just listened to the rasp and hiss of his respirator. Bonding with another apprentice was not something he had any interest in doing. Not since...
No! He refused to think of it. Vader inwardly shook his head, banishing the painful memories from his mind. He needed to do this. He needed to be sure that he could rely on her. "Come, Syrennè," he said, walking away from the desk. She followed him past the holopod and stopped just short of the containment cells on the far wall. Removing the glove from his flesh and blood hand, he hooked it to his belt and faced her. "Get down on your knees."
"Yes, master," she said, lowering to kneel at his boots.
"Now close your eyes, and release your shields."
Vader stepped closer and dropped to one knee. He placed his bare hand on her bowed head and stretched out with the Force. With two steadying breaths, he slowly released his own shields and reached out.
The energy hummed between them. Tingled through his skin, gradually numbing his awareness of the room around him. Electric blue sparks filled his vision. He dug deeper. Searching her out. He felt a tug through the Force and mentally seized hold of it. His vision shifted. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the centre of the Jedi Temple council chambers surrounded by the chairs once filled by the masters. Beyond the windows, the sky outside was churning. The ominous black clouds twisting and turning as if they were stuck in fast-forward. Lightning cracked and forked, each electric flash illuminating the haunting chamber around him.
A small figure appeared between the chairs, hiding in the shadows, crouched down and huddled in fear. He thudded closer; his force-vision human legs heavy. The lightning sparked again, this time highlighting the nervous expression on her young face. Her hood was down, exposing her long yellow-blonde braid. Tear soaked, wide blue eyes stared up at him.
"What is your name, padawan?" Vader asked, the sound of his once naked voice sounding unfamiliar.
"Jaina..." she whispered, not moving from her hiding place. "Jaina Trevashan."
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
She nodded shakily, her folded knees trembling. "Master Skywalker."
He shook his head. "Close... but not quite. Tell me Jaina, are you afraid?"
She nodded again.
Vader smiled. "Good. Fear can be a powerful ally." He took one more step toward her and held his gloved right hand out. "Take my hand. It is time to leave the Jedi behind. They can no longer help you."
Her blue eyes darted between his hooded, unmasked face and his outstretched hand. Hesitantly, she pushed forward and took his hand, and their Force-bond ignited. Feeling her emotions channelling through their touch, he pulled her to her feet and guided her toward the council chamber doors. It was done.
• • •
"I understand that you are upset, Padmè," Obi-wan said, his stare following her as she paced back and forth by the glass doors. "But you must try and remain calm. The Sith feed on emotions like anger and fear. They can't resist. He will automatically latch onto it and respond accordingly. Just as he did earlier."
Padmè stopped pacing and spun to face him standing by the command desk. "He promised, Obi-wan!"
His grey eyes softened and dropped to the floor. "I know."
"He promised never to touch me out of anger again!" She gently rubbed her jaw and turned to stare at the city. "I feel like the harder I try to hold onto him, the further he slips away. I almost wish we were back on Coruscant. At least there, we had his hyperbaric chamber. Then I could take that mask off for longer than ten minutes and actually see the expression on his face."
"He has ordered one. Hopefully it will arrive soon and the two of you can try again."
Padmè laughed inwardly. How things had changed. It had taken her weeks to convince Obi-wan that Anakin was still alive inside the suit. Now, he was the one trying to remind her. The thought settled her somewhat. So did hearing that Anakin had ordered a new chamber. Did that mean he was missing their closeness as much as what she was? Was that one of the reasons why he was being so edgy? She let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head.
None of it would matter once he was back within Palpatine's grasp. She'd seen enough of his manipulation and controlling techniques during her time at the palace. Anakin would leave her relatively settled, but when he returned, it was like he was someone else ... someone she didn't recognise. It scared the life out of her.
A warm hand dropped heavily onto her shoulder. She fought the urge to spin around and throw herself into her old friend's arms.
"Tell him how you feel, Padmè," Obi-wan said, staring into her eyes like he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Just do it ... calmly." He let out a quiet chuckle. "Force... cry if you have to."
Vader reached the top of the corridor stairs and waved open the door to his family's suite. He walked into the main chamber with his apprentice in tow; their newly formed bond growing stronger by the minute. Syrennè was now his, just as he was Sidious's. She even seemed more confident, no longer anxious and questioning. Perhaps he should have bonded with her earlier – the silence alone would have been worth the effort.
A wave of emotion hit him. A mixture of anger, fear and heartache. He ground to a halt by the command desk and slowly turned in place. Padmè and Kenobi were silently staring at him from across the room. All of the emotion was coming from her, with only the faintest hint of curiosity trickling from the Jedi. Going by her agitated body language: lips tight, arms crossed, hips jutted out: she was still upset at him for violating his promise earlier. Not that he could blame her. He should never have manhandled her like that.
But after some time spent thinking – and over-thinking, as he seemed prone to doing constantly – he realized that; yes, he truly did mean exactly what he'd said. She never did know how to handle his love for her. Not from the very first day he laid his heart out back on Naboo. Sure, he probably could've said it more subtly. But tact had never been one of his strong points. Even less so now.
He folded his arms, splaying his cloak wide.
Without saying a word, he watched on as his wife and former master exchanged glances. Then she left his side and headed straight for their bedroom. At least they weren't going to have an audience for their argument. The last thing he needed was for Kenobi to go offering his opinions and criticisms on the matter. He moved to follow, knowing that that was precisely what she expected of him.
By the time she reached the bedroom he had caught up, his long stride making short work of the distance between them. He followed her inside and closed the door.
Padmè stopped in the middle of the room and spun to face him head-on. She wasn't messing around this time. Whatever she was gearing up to say was serious.
"Padmè..." he started, lifting one gloved hand in the air while keeping the other, still holding the small box, down at his side. "I..."
She shook her head and cut him off. "Please, try and keep your voice down. If that is even possible," she scolded. "Our twins are asleep. I only brought you in here so I could speak to you in private."
Speak to him, not with him. He dropped his hand. Perhaps upset had been an understatement. Maybe it was better to just let her say her piece first. Then, if she gave him a chance, he could try to explain. He closed his mouth and waited.
Padmè glanced over her shoulder to the cot and then fixed her eyes on his mask. Her body tensed. She folded her arms tight over her chest and narrowed her stare. "Anakin. You should know by now just how much I love you..."
His breathing hitched. His heart thudded.
The 'but' was coming. He was a Sith Lord, the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Armed Forces and yet, just one unfinished sentence coming from the mouth of his Angel was enough to have him internally racked with fear.
Even his armour couldn't protect him from this.
She paused, looked to his boots and let out a weighted sigh. "But... I just don't know how to say this."
The suspense was killing him. He wanted to pace. "Just say it, Padmè," he growled, unable to keep his building tension in-check. He lowered his voice and squeezed his free hand into a fist. "Whatever it is... just say it."
The intensity of her stare silenced him; her two beautiful hazel eyes levelling him to the ground. She sucked in a deep breath, and he couldn't help but watch the way her chest lifted and fell with the effort.
"Ani... I love you so much," she said, her voice little more than a whisper. "But I am living in fear. I am terrified. Both of you ... and ... for you."
He stood rigid. He'd already known that he'd frightened her. But hearing her say it out loud made it seem so much worse. It was just like the confrontation with Rush Clovis all over again. And that day he'd very nearly killed him. "Angel... I swear..."
She turned away and waved her hand dismissively. "Stop, please. Don't go making any more promises you know you can't keep."
The respirator hissed in his ears. He watched numbly as she walked to the bed and sat down. He looked to the little black box in his hand, wishing it was some sort of miraculous cure that could fix everything. But it wasn't. No simple trinket or token could repair the damage he'd done. He glanced to their children still fast asleep in their cot and then back to his Angel on the bed. Just like with Clovis, he thought hollowly.
He turned to face the door and paused. "I will never stop loving you, Padmè," he rumbled, suddenly annoyed by the emotionless tone imbued in his voice by the vocoder. He placed the black box down softly on the dresser beside the door and clenched his jaw. "That ... I can promise you."
Then he left. The burdensome drag of the cloak around his neck weighing heavily on his chest.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
That's it for the marital angst between the power couple for now. I hope you enjoyed it. Next we shoot off into hyperspace and the fun begins.
Thank you for your reviews/follows/favourites. They make this even more rewarding.
I'm off to see the first of our beloved series in the cinema for the first time in the next two weeks. I can barely contain my excitement.
As always.
MTFBWY