Chapter 26: Perdidit in Tenebris

—Part 3—

Sat on the bed in the med-bay, Padmé carefully dabbed a damp cloth over the gash on Dormé's forehead, trying her best to clean up the blood. Thankfully, the cut wasn't too deep, but the knock seemed to have left her handmaiden concussed. She was going to have one serious headache when she woke up.

"M'lady..." Dormé groaned, and her head lulled lazily to the side. "I'm... I'm so... sorry, m'lady."

"Shhh... it's alright," Padmé cooed, moving to wipe at the side of her temple. "We're perfectly safe now, there's no need to worry."

"Lady Vader..." a voice called from behind, and Padmé looked back to see Bly leaning on the door frame. She had been so focused on tending to Dormé's injury, that she hadn't even heard him approach.

"Yes, Commander. What is it?" Padmé asked.

"Captain Sloane has asked for you up front. Says it's important."

"Very well." Padmé looked back to her loyal handmaiden and gently took her hand. "Rest easy, Dormé. I will return soon."

Captain Sloane was flicking at the navi-comp when Padmé reached the cockpit. The blue lights of hyperspace were dancing across the cabin, turning the captain's dark complexion a peculiar purple hue. "You needed to see me, Captain?"

The young woman briefly turned to regard Padmé, and nodded. "Yes, Lady Vader."

"Is there a problem?"

"Well, not exactly," Sloane said. "We are approaching the coordinates Senator Organa gave us, yet I don't see any planets nearby."

"None at all?"

"No, my Lady. Not one. I'm not sure what this base is, but it isn't listed on any Imperial Chart." Sloane returned her attention to the navi-comp, and keyed the controls. She zoomed in on the hyper-map, displaying the location of their inputted coordinates. "The closest thing near our projected course is this old space station—Not really big enough to support some major tactical operation."

"I see..." Padmé said, leaning forward to lean on the headrest of the co-pilot's seat, and staring at the hyper-map. Had Bail given them false coordinates? But why would he do that? He was the one who had asked her to come to the base with him in the first place. Then, why would he then go and send her off on some wild bantha chase? It didn't make any sense.

Unless... Bail suspected something, and was protecting the base's location until he had the chance to scramble her ship's ident. "How much longer before we reach the coordinates?"

Sloane glanced to Padmé. "Fifteen minutes, maybe less," she said. "Though, I imagine your Senator friend is still a while away yet."

"What makes you say that?"

Going back to the console, Sloane smiled. "This ship is incredible. Faster than any I've ever piloted," she gushed, caressing the dash. "Not even the ISD Exactor has a hyperdrive like this, and that ship is fully worked... whoever designed and commissioned her really knew what they were doing."

"Yes..." Padmé quietly agreed, her thoughts drifting to Anakin. She looked down to the deactivated leather-cuffed wrist-com weighing heavily by her hand; a lump rising in her throat. "Yes. I'm... I'm sure they did, Captain." Shaking off the thought, Padmé made for the door to return to Dormé. "Let me know when we reach the station. There might be someone there who can repair the ship."

"Of course, My Lady."

Dark Angel approached ISS Obelysk after getting docking clearance. A small banged up freighter was docked on the near side, seemingly powered down. Waiting with Bly and his troopers by the Dark Angel's blast-door, Padmé felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She needed to be wary; this far out in space, there was no telling what kinds of beings could be lurking here.

As she, Bly, and his two men stepped through the vacuum release, five mercenaries stormed across the large assembly area and blocked their entrance. Covertly glancing around, Padmé checked their surroundings. Oddly enough, there wasn't an Imperial officer or storm trooper in sight.

"Well, what have we got here?" one of the mercenaries with a thick black moustache and sideburns gruffly asked, looking Padmé up and down. "Did you get lost, pretty lady?"

Bly and his men raised their blasters and stepped forward to flank Padmé. Subtly gesturing for Bly to wait, she stood tall and narrowed her gaze at the man. "I am here to meet a friend," Padmé said.

Black moustache gave a deep chuckle. He turned to appraise Padmé again, lifting his hand to stroke his moustache. "A friend you say..." he said, his eyes going dark. "We can be your friends, can't we lads?" He elbowed the man stood beside him.

"Sure can!" his mate agreed, licking his lips. "We can be real good friends..." He let out a full bellied laugh and the others joined in. "Been a while since we had someone like you aboard. Don't get a lot of fancy visitors out here."

"I'm sure you don't..." Padmé commented drily. She contemplated turning her wrist-com back on, knowing full well that Anakin would have some sort of tracker built into it—but quickly killed the thought. The situation didn't warrant that... not yet. "Well, gentlemen... since you are all so keen on us getting better acquainted, perhaps we can come to some arrangement."

"An arrangement?" black moustache echoed. "Hmmm. What kind of arrangement did you have in mind?"

Padmé crossed her arms over her chest. "My ship needs repairs. The starboard slave engine is damaged, and seems to be struggling. You fix the ship; we work out a price." She raised a daring brow at the merc, and kicked out her hip. "That is, providing you 'can' fix my ship."

The men looked between each other, and started discussing it. Black moustache glanced over, raised a crooked brow at Padmé. "What type of ship we talking?"

"A Nubian Cruiser," Padmé said. Then added, "A custom built J-type Cruiser."

Black moustache whistled. "Jewel of the sky—Nice ship. Can't say I've had much to do with em." He turned back to the others. "What about you lot? Any you guys know Nubians?"

"Only that they're karkin' expensive," his mate added, rubbing his hands together.

"And rare," his other mate chimed in. "Friend of mine saw one of them Nubian Skiffs in a junkyard once... dusty, abandoned... covered in canvas and caked with sand. When he was told how much it was, he worked out he'd need to sell at least three of his kids to the Hutts before he could afford it."

"Did he do it?" expensive mate asked.

Rare mate shot him a pointed look. "What do you think, dumb ass?"

Black moustache chuckled, then smiled. He threw his hand up and started to circle Padmé like some predator sizing up his meal. "I mean... Sure, we could take a look at it for you," he said, leaning in and staring into her eyes. Abruptly, he shrugged and continued on his patrol. "But, even if the price was right, there's little chance we'd be able to fix it. Odds are... the parts wouldn't be lying around here anyway. She's not exactly your run-of-the-mill YT-1300, now, is she?"

Padmé stiffened, eyeing him off. This mercenary had no idea who he was dealing with. If he did, there was no way he would be behaving like this. For a moment, she almost wished her marriage to Anakin was public knowledge. At least then, they'd have no need to hide. Anakin would be more settled; and she would have some real power behind her if she ever did feel threatened. Perhaps she should have dared Palpatine to make good on his ultimatum yesterday. He might have done them all a favour.

Clearing her throat, Padmé determinedly locked stares with Black moustache. "Well then, gentlemen... it seems you have nothing of value to offer." She snapped her head to the side, called to Bly at her back. "Commander..."

Instantly acknowledging her order, the three disguised troopers stepped forward into flanking positions, then cocked and aimed their blasters. Feeling empowered by the presence of her husband's loyal protectors, Padmé stood tall and glowered at the five mercenaries. "Now... unless you have something else of interest you're willing to trade..."

"Whoa, easy! No need to get hostile, princess," Black moustache said, putting his hands up. "We're only talking here. I thought we were friends."

"I am no princess," Padmé warned. "And if you wish to be able to make more friends, I suggest you run back to whatever hole you crawled out of, forget you ever saw us, and take your thieving companions with you."

The man scowled. "Who you calling a thief?"

"This is an Imperial Space Station. And you are certainly no officers of the Empire. So, unless you prefer I contact the authorities, I recommend you walk away."

"Wolffe!" a commanding voice called from behind the men.

Black moustache —who she now knew responded to Wolffe—complained and turned around, and the group of men split down the middle. Two figures were approaching; one in old clone armour—similar to that of Commander Appo's with the same blue markings—and the other in a grey, hooded robe. Padmé stared curiously at the pair. Had this trooper served with Anakin? He sure looked like he could have. But, hadn't they all remained with him after the war ended?

"Aww... c'mon, Rex. We're only being friendly," Wolffe said to the clone. "She threatened to call the Empire on us."

"Easy, soldier."

Soldier? So, this Wolffe was a clone, too? Padmé glanced to Bly, and then back to Wolffe. Sure enough, they had the same nose, eyes, cheek bones... the same everything. The facial hair must have thrown her...

Hold on a minute! Did he just say... Rex?

As in—Captain—Rex?

The pair of figures reached the main group, and Padmé's heart began to flutter, a mix of uncertainty and hope filling her. She looked to the grey hooded figure beside Rex; the sound of the group's conversation giving way to thought, her mind frantically racing with possibilities. Inside, the Force whispered to her again—a question, or confirmation—she couldn't tell which. She tried to focus on it the way Anakin had taught her, attempted to interpret what the Force was trying to say—

And, on instinct, glanced up. The hooded figure was looking at her, their slight body rigid and still. Then... they spoke—

"Padmé?"

Padmé's breath hooked on a sudden gasp. The cloaked figure was female... and young... and the sound made her heart ache anew. She recognised that voice; that sweet, yet commanding tone of Anakin's former Jedi padawan. "Ahsoka?"

The grey hooded figure stepped forward from the group and slowly lowered her hood. And there she was. In all her Togrutan glory. Tall blue and white striped montrals rising and falling around her head. Youthful orange skin, glowing with white tribal markings. And the big, bright blue eyes Padmé remembered so fondly.

They'd become so close during the Clone Wars... that was, until Ahsoka had been wrongfully accused of bombing the Jedi Temple. Anakin had fought day and night to prove his padawan's innocence, only for her to walk away from the order once he'd successfully gotten her acquitted.

She could still remember how hard Anakin had taken Ahsoka's decision to leave. The memory was as vivid now as what it had been that night. He'd blamed himself initially, then, turned his ire on the Jedi Order; declaring that they'd failed her. After pacing wildly around the balcony of their apartment, loudly voicing his disappointment... he'd abruptly stopped, and whirled to face her; a wild ferocity burning in his eyes.

She'd never forget the chilling sound of the snarl that had escaped him that night. Or the way he'd stiffened and balled his hands into fists... or the dangerous glint she'd seen hiding in his eyes...

Involuntarily, Padmé shivered. She pushed down the image, and looked back to his padawan. Then, smiling, she opened her mouth to speak...

And Ahsoka rushed forward. The young Togruta threw her arms around Padmé and squeezed, giving her one of the tightest hugs she'd experienced in a long time.

"It's so good to see you!" Ahsoka said between sobs, emotion choking her voice. "I... I thought I was alone."

Closing her eyes, Padmé allowed the building tears to slip free, their damp warmth tingling down her cheeks. Thankfully, Ahsoka had managed to survive the Jedi purge. And by some uncanny stroke of luck, had arrived at the exact same space station at the same time she had. Perhaps it had less to do with luck, and more to do with the will of the Force. Whatever the reason, she held the young padawan tight, as if, by simply holding on, she could somehow protect her from the chaotic galaxy surrounding them. "I know... I feel that way too sometimes, Ahsoka," Padmé said, battling to get the words out. "But you are not alone. And now that we've found each other... You never need feel that way again."

• • •

Sitting in the space station's passenger lounge, Padmé quietly waited as Ahsoka prepared hot drinks for the two of them. Captain Rex and Commander Bly were standing by the viewing window; the two of them staring out into space, deep in discussion—most probably talking about the war. Padmé sighed and looked to her wrist-com again. She traced the ornate stones with her finger, idly wondering how Anakin was coping after her sudden departure. He would have loved this, she was certain. To be reunited with not only Ahsoka, but Rex as well? She wondered what kind of effect it would have had on him. Obi-wan had always insisted they would be fine if they all stayed together... perhaps their reunion would be just the trigger needed to drag Anakin away from Palpatine, and bring him back to the Light.

"Here..." Ahsoka said, taking a seat beside Padmé and offering her the hot caff. "No offence, but you look like you could use it."

Padmé smiled and reached for the caff. "Thank you," she said quietly, then took a sip. The warm liquid was soothing, and she immediately sat back and let the comforting sensation wash over her. "You were right, Ahsoka... I definitely needed that."

"What are you doing here at the space station, anyway?" Ahsoka asked, leaning back in her seat. "I mean... It's not exactly the kind of place I would've expected to find you."

"No, I guess not," Padmé agreed. "I'm actually waiting for someone. They're supposedly meeting me here before we make for our final destination."

Ahsoka shifted forward in her seat to look Padmé in the eyes. "Really?" she asked, somewhat excitedly. "Funny... that's why Rex and I are here, too. Well, after he helped me escape from Raada, that is, and apparently decided I couldn't be trusted to keep myself safe. Guess I won't be going back there any time soon."

Padmé felt herself frown. She desperately hoped whatever had occurred on Raada had not involved Anakin. He hadn't mentioned anything about finding Ahsoka, hopefully, that meant he'd had nothing to do with it. "What happened on Raada?" Padmé asked, making no effort to disguise her concern.

"Oh... that's a long story," Ahsoka said, looking to the caff resting in her lap. "But, to cut it short... I made some friends, and they got in trouble because of me. All because I couldn't let go of my past... I couldn't let go of being a Jedi."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault, Ahsoka," Padmé said comfortingly, patting the troubled togruta on the shoulder to try and ease her burden. "Sometimes... it just seems like it is."

Ahsoka shrugged and huffed. "Maybe... any way, they're safe now. That's all that matters. I made sure that Inquisitor could never hurt anyone again."

Alarm bells rang in Padmé's mind, and her stomach lurched. She swallowed, once, then twice, fighting to keep the caff down. "Inquisitors?" she asked. "What were they—Why were they there?"

"One... Inquisitor," Ahsoka firmly corrected, raising a questioning brow at Padmé. Those piercing blue eyes held her gaze a long moment, as if she was trying to read Padmé's thoughts. Then, she looked away and continued on with her story. "He called himself the Sixth Brother. Someone had obviously trained him in the Dark Side, but he was still very inexperienced." Noticeably gritting her teeth, she shook her head as if to purge the painful imagery from her mind. "Like I said, it doesn't matter now," Ahsoka stated matter-of-factly. "He's dead."

They sat together in relative silence, letting the weight of Ahsoka's admission hang heavily in the air between them. Padmé covertly glanced to the young togruta beside her, saw the tightness set in her jaw, the lingering darkness of everything affecting her, clearly evident in her hardening expression. There was so much of Anakin in her, and never had it been quite so obvious as it was right now.

"I hate to ask, Padmé... but, do you know what happened to Anakin?" Ahsoka finally asked, breaking their silence. She looked up, and Padmé could feel the fear and uncertainty echoing from her through the Force. "Have you seen... or heard anything from him?"

Lost for words, Padmé stared at Ahsoka, not quite ready to divulge the truth of what had happened to her master just yet. In fact, it was probably better for them to meet face to face first, before she said anything. That way Ahsoka would be free to find out for herself... and Anakin would be free to react accordingly—however volatile that may be. Padmé looked to the floor, let out a long breath and gently shook her head. "I'm... I'm sorry, Ahsoka."

A quiet sob came from the seat beside her, and Padmé couldn't help but feel guilty for not telling her the truth. But she told herself it was for the best, even if she didn't fully believe it.

"Ship on approach... Corvette Class," Rex called from the viewing window. "Looks like we've got company."

"Do you think it's Imperial?" Ahsoka asked, rising from her seat and moving to join him. "We may need to leave in a hurry."

"Hard to say from here," Rex said, then keyed his comm. "I'll check with Wolffe, see if she's hailed the station yet."

Pushing out of her seat, Padmé moved to stand beside Rex. She looked to the window and instantly recognised the Tantive-III—so, Bail was here, finally. She called out to Rex. "There's no need for that, Captain," Padmé said, watching the corvette as it pulled in to dock. "That's Senator Organa's consular ship."

"Are you sure?" Ahsoka asked her.

Padmé nodded. "I'm positive, Ahsoka. I've seen that ship more than enough times over the past few months, to know exactly what it looks like. Both inside... and out."

Rex looked between Padmé and Ahsoka, seemingly debating who to listen to. "Well, if that's the case, then we'd better get ready," he said. "No point in hanging around here any longer than we need to." He turned from the window and marched for the door. "I'm going to find Wolffe, and make sure he's ready to go."

Ahsoka watched Rex leave, then sighed and looked to Padmé. "Want to meet Bail in the assembly area?" Ahsoka asked, rubbing the sleeves of her robe. "This station is giving me the creeps. Honestly... the sooner we're out of here, the better."

"I couldn't agree more," Padmé said with an adoring smile, putting her arm around the young togruta. Then they left for the assembly area, arm-in-arm, Commander Bly and his troopers following closely behind.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

So there we have it, the reveal of the mystery Jedi. Those of you who have read the Ahsoka novel would have seen it coming a mile away. Up next, we go back to Vader and Palpatine, and we finally depart Coruscant for Dromund Kaas.

Thank you so much for your reviews/follows/favourites, I am truly blessed.

Starwarsepic: thank you for your kind words, this story has been with me a long time, and has very much become a labour of love.

Guest: Vader doesn't know who to trust right now. In his mind, Padmé has just lied to him and it has shaken him deeply. Palpatine is very good at reading his emotions and using them against him, it's what makes him so perfect.

DarthLeia19: Vader is so entertaining to write when he is entrenched in his anger. I like to tug him back and forth to see just how far I can push him before he snaps. Lol.

Sfloresf: thank you for your heartfelt review. I do so enjoy dipping my toes into dear old Palpy's dark mind, he's so twisted yet convinced of his own entitlement.

Thank you so much for reading.

And, as always. MTFBWY