Hey, everyone! I'm glad to hear that you all enjoyed 21 (for the most part… somebody from isn't happy with my Anakin, Padmé, or Palpatine characterizations. Oh, well.) and instead of posting 22 next week like I had PLANNED, I decided to do it now. Maybe if I run out of chapters to post, I'll be more motivated to write than I am at the moment.
Please comment; I love to hear what you have to say! (And yes, that includes the dude/dudette who didn't like my characterizations, lol. I can handle criticism, too, lol.)
----
"Luke!" Padmé called out to her son as she left her husband's empty room.
The blond-haired youth whipped around. "What is it, Lady Ami--Mother?"
"Do not feel pressured to call me 'mother,' Luke," Padmé said gently. "I was only wondering if you knew where Anakin has gone."
"You mean he's not in there?" Luke asked in surprise. "I left him in there a few hours ago."
Padmé furrowed her brow. "Do you think something is wrong?" she asked nervously. "Maybe someone attacked him, like in the mess hall, or maybe he's locked in some room--"
"I would know if something had happened to him, Mother," Luke reassured her. "Let me look for a moment," he said, and closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force to feel his father's presence. After a second he opened them again. "He's in the hangar," he said with some surprise.
"We have to leave late in the sleep cycle tomorrow, so I think he should rest. Maybe you could help him?" Padmé asked hopefully. "I don't want to him to have nightmares. The Force knows that he's had enough of those," she said bitterly.
"Only if his guard is down," Luke admitted. "He'll meditate, most likely. That's what he normally does."
"I see," said Padmé as she took her son's arm and walked down the hall towards the main hangar.
"Can you tell me what he used to be like?" Luke asked suddenly. "Before everything went bad?"
Padmé sighed. "He was one of the most famous Jedi Knights in the galaxy," she remembered. "He and Obi-Wan pulled off some amazing missions together. Besides Master Windu and Yoda, of course, they were considered to be the best. Anakin was—and still is, to my understanding—the best star pilot in the galaxy."
"But what was he like? Besides all that?" Luke pressed. "When he wasn't being the famous Jedi Knight?"
Padmé let out a fond smile. "He always made me laugh," she reminisced. "He played jokes on people. The younglings loved him—he was like a big brother to them. A hero." She stopped, obviously remembering his betrayal of the children, but continued. "He was very excited when I told him of my pregnancy," she told Luke, who grinned. "He was so thrilled about becoming a father."
"Really?"
Padmé nodded. "He wanted to tell the Jedi Order about us, to reveal our marriage so that we wouldn't have to hide, but I stopped him. He wanted so badly for everyone to know that we were going to have a baby. Well, babies. But we didn't know that at the time."
"What if he hadn't turned?" Luke asked quietly. "What if Palpatine hadn't gotten to him?"
Padmé smiled sadly. "It's never good to dwell on lives that never were, Luke," she told him gently. "We must focus on the present. This is our situation; we must learn from it, adapt to it, and change it as best we can."
"That sounds like Jedi wisdom," Luke said, raising his eyebrow.
"It is," Padmé admitted. "I've spent my share of time around Jedi to know how they think."
"Here's the hangar," said Luke, flicking his finger and opening the door. "Father should be over there somewhere," he told her, pointing to the far left. "I'll walk you."
They walked over and, to their surprise, found Han, Chewie, and Anakin arguing about the dismantled hyperdrive that lay on a worktable.
"No, I'm telling you, if you use a split cable it'll go faster," Anakin persisted. "Trust me."
"I've never used a split cable and I don't intend to now," Han retorted hotly. "They're dodgy. I had a buddy of mine who said that his shorted out all the time!"
"Then it was faulty," Anakin returned. "Split cables are perfectly fine, as long as you install it correctly with the proper connectors."
"No," Han said stubbornly. "It doesn't need to go to both sublights. And if it does then I'll run two separate lines."
"But then the connection speed won't be as good!" Anakin protested. "If you do a split cable, that's eliminated and you've got a split second difference!" They both paused to listen to Chewie's annoyed roar.
"Chewie! How could you say that? You're supposed to be on my side!" Han gaped. "Traitor!"
"He's not a traitor, just smart," said Anakin smugly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "It's two out of three, Solo. A split cable is the best choice."
"Well it's my ship," Han grumbled. "I don't trust split cables."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Your friend probably got it off of the black market. I've got high-quality ones and some connectors that'll make quick work of it."
Padmé and Luke exchanged amused glances. "I haven't seen you smile that much in two decades," said Padmé, making their presence known. "My vote goes with Anakin, Captain Solo. I've known him long enough to recognize that he understands starships."
"Great," Han mumbled.
"I was looking for you but you weren't in your room," said Padmé, turning to her husband, who still looked pleased about his victory. "I should have known that you'd be in here, getting your hands dirty in engine grease."
Anakin shrugged, still looking relaxed. "Father, when do you want to leave?" Luke questioned.
Anakin smiled slightly. "Depends on Han. Looks like he's our ride."
"Really?" Luke asked delightedly.
Han nodded. "He begged me, so I couldn't say no."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "More like I said aloud what you were thinking."
"Hey!" Han protested. "I don't like you readin' my mind!"
"I didn't," Anakin returned, laughing. "But you just confirmed my point."
Han closed his mouth abruptly. "I figure we can leave in the morning," he said. "We've got a while 'fore we get to Bain, anyhow."
"Oh, Master Luke! Master Luke, I have been wondering where you are!"
They all turned to see C-3PO waddling down the steps. "Captain Solo seemed to have accidentally locked me in a spare parts locker, I've only just got out!" he explained.
"Threepio?" Anakin said in surprise.
"I'm sorry, sir, do I know you?" The golden droid inquired.
"You know him?" Han questioned.
"Han, you locked him up?" Luke asked reprovingly. The smuggler grinned and shrugged. "I had to do something. He wouldn't shut up—Cutie said this, Cutie said that."
"Cutie?" Padmé asked curiously.
"Cutie, as in my protocol droid on Bain?" asked Anakin. "By the way, Luke, I should never let you name my droids, ever again," he said darkly, looking at his son, who grinned. "Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to comm my droid 'Cutie' when I'm on a transport back to Bain with a squadron of stormtroopers?"
"I thought it was nice," said Luke innocently, while Han laughed.
Anakin stood, taking care not to upset his portable oxygen. "Threepio, you don't remember me?" he asked.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir—"
"Anakin Skywalker," he said, interrupting the droid.
"I apologize," Threepio said. "But I have had at least one memory wipe, sir—"
"Oh," Anakin said in understanding. "Then access Pattern Code 347, and recall Basic 1."
A strange buzzing came from Threepio's head for a moment and his photoreceptors shut off for a split second. "Oh, my Maker! Master Anakin, I haven't seen you in almost eighteen years!" The droid said prissily. "What happened to you, Maker? You look terrible!"
"Thanks," Anakin said wryly.
"Hold on a second!" Han shouted. "You made Threepio?"
"Yes. When I was nine," said Anakin. "He was a gift for my mother."
"You built him?" Han repeated. "As in, assembled, wired, put together?"
Anakin nodded. "Why is that so surprising?"
Han shook his head as if trying to clear it. "But why?"
"He was a gift," Anakin said, shrugging. "It was my first experience with personality circuits. Before that, I'd just worked on astromechs and transmechs, which don't really have personalities. Artoo excepting, of course."
"You know Artoo too?" Han said in surprise.
"Oh course," Anakin confirmed. "He was mine for a long time."
Han wiped his forehead and massaged his temples. "First, you're the famous podracer, then you built the most annoying droid in the galaxy… Got any other secrets you'd like to share with the club?"
"Now that you mention it, I did invent the hyperdrive," Anakin teased.
"Really?" Han's eyes went wide, and Luke burst out into laughter.
"He's kidding, Han."
"Right," said Han, reddening. "I was jus' playin' along."
"It's good for you to do this," said Padmé, smiling at her husband.
"A nice distraction," he said, sighing and leaning back into his chair. "It's been a while since I've actually worked on a ship."
"What are we going to do? About the Alliance, I mean?" Padmé asked worriedly. "I didn't expect them to refuse you."
"I did," Anakin told her. "But I can read their minds, so…"
"Anakin," Padmé said sternly. "You shouldn't—"
"They were directed at me!" Anakin protested. "It's not like I was probing their minds or anything. They would've felt that."
Han let out a groan. "I forgot you were into that Jedi stuff too," he muttered.
Anakin glanced sidelong at him. "A little," he told him seriously.
Han rolled his eyes. "Shaddup."
"Mother! I was looking for you," said a new voice. They turned to see Leia jogging up to them. Her face tightened when she saw Anakin, and his smile dimmed and the crow's feet around his eyes reappeared. He set down the tool he was holding and turned away from her.
Padmé noticed their reactions with a frown. "What is it, darling?"
"You're leaving with him?" Leia said, not hedging at all. She placed her hands on her hips. "We need you here. You're supposed to officially join the High Command tomorrow."
"That can wait," said Padmé serenely.
"Mother, you have a responsibility to the Alliance," Leia said hotly. "You can't just leave because your husband returns from the dead. You're safer here."
Padmé crossed her arms. "I am safest wherever Anakin is," she said coolly. "I will go with him, Leia. I don't want to hear anything else about it."
"Oh, yes, because he can take care of himself," said Leia scathingly. "'Let's go jump into a pit of lava!'"
Anakin flinched and Luke stepped forward. "That is not what happened," said Luke tightly, crossing his arms. "Leia, you need to stop this. I thought you were okay with everything. You did cover for him."
"Stop what?" she returned. "I may have covered for you, but I'm the only one here who realizes that he's Darth Vader. Even if he has left the Dark Side, that doesn't make everything okay." She turned her eyes to Anakin. "You're still a murderer," she said darkly. "And I'm the only one who bothers to remember it!"
Anakin cringed but said nothing. "Stop it," Padmé said coldly.
"Leia… He has changed," Han said quietly, standing.
She whirled on him. "Great, you too, Han? You've joined the Darth Vader fan club as well? Splendid!"
"That's enough," said Anakin quietly, standing to his full height. "Your quarrel is with me, not them. Don't jeopardize your relationships with others because you're angry with me."
"Angry? Angry is hardly the word I would choose," said Leia coldly. "Disgusted. Disbelieving. Ashamed."
"Leia Organa—" Padmé began tightly, but stopped at Anakin's raised hand.
"I deserve all of it, Princess," he said quietly. "But don't hurt other people because of your feelings for me."
"What do you mean, 'hurt other people?'" she asked suspiciously.
"Your mother. Your brother," he told her gently. "Walk with me for a few minutes."
"The last thing I want is to be near you," Leia said. "I want you to leave as soon as possible and I don't ever want to see you again. I don't care that you donated money to the Alliance. I don't care that Mother thinks you're some kind of hero, that Luke worships you. I hate you! You might be my biological parent, but you murdered my real father. I'll never forgive you."
"Your anger achieves nothing, Princess," said Anakin, though it was apparent that her words had hurt him.
She glared at him. "But your anger sure accomplished a lot, didn't it? Because of you, all the Jedi are dead. You should die because of that."
"If that is what you truly believe, I accept your judgement," he said calmly. He lifted the portable oxygen case out to her. "Take it from me, if you believe that I should die."
She stared at him, her mouth open in surprise. "Anakin," Padmé said nervously. "Anakin, I—"
"I trust her judgment," Anakin repeated. "She is her mother's daughter."
Leia bit her lip and her arms fell limp at her hands. She bowed her head. "You shouldn't die," she mumbled.
"I disagree," he told her quietly. "But I thank you for the confidence."
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "The day you killed my father, I swore to kill you. I swore to destroy the Empire."
"I swore to save Padmé's life at any cost," he returned gently. "I swore to do anything to keep her safe. I ended up losing my soul. I ended up murdering thousands. Do not follow my path, my daughter. Let go of your hate. Let go of your anger. Both are paths to the Dark Side."
She stepped back from him. "I'm sorry."
"It is not you who needs to apologize, Princess," said Anakin. "I have caused you a great deal of pain. I only hope that some day, you will find it in you to forgive me."
She nodded silently and turned to Padmé. "Mother, have a safe journey," she said quietly. "I look forward to your return."
"Thank you, Leia," said Padmé gently, giving her daughter an embrace. "Don't worry."
Leia smiled weakly and turned, walking quickly out of the hangar. Anakin sank into his chair. "Do you think she will…?"
"One day," Padmé said confidently. "One day she will, Anakin."
----
"Are you ready, Father?" Luke stepped inside Anakin's room to see his father carefully wrapping his belt around his waist.
"Yes," Anakin said, fingering the loop where a lightsaber was meant to hang. He stared at the wall wistfully.
"I've been meaning to speak to you about that," said Luke suddenly, moving forward to unclip his lightsaber from his belt. "This is yours, Father. Thank you for letting me borrow it."
Anakin mouth dropped open. "You never made your own?" he said with some surprise.
Luke shook his head. "You were going to teach me, remember?"
Anakin smiled. "I still will, if you would like. I have the materials."
"Really?" Luke asked eagerly. "Great! Then you should take yours back." He handed the metallic cylinder out to his father who accepted it almost reverently.
Anakin fingered the delicate grip that he had spent a week constructing, wishing for the trillionth time that he could feel it under his thumb. "Thank you," he whispered, gripping it with both hands and raising it. "When we get to Bain we should practice. I would like to see how your technique has improved."
"Not by much," Luke admitted. "Yoda focused on mental exercises rather than combat."
"Yoda would," Anakin said cryptically as he eased the lightsaber onto the belt. "Thank you, Luke," he repeated. "A Jedi's lightsaber—the one that he builds—is an extension of his arm, of his will, and is part of the Jedi's connection with the Force. As Palpatine's apprentice, he gifted me with a lightsaber rather than allow me to build my own. It was another method of control," he explained. "The same way I used to take your lightsaber aboard the Executor. If you had built your weapon, I would never have been able to take it from you."
"Really?" Luke asked, surprised.
Anakin nodded. "Let's go. Your mother and Solo will be waiting."
----
"Have we received clearance?" Anakin asked once he and Luke arrived at the hangar, where Han, Chewie, Padmé, and the droids were already waiting.
"Yes," said Padmé. "I went to them. They were a bit surprised to hear that Captain Solo and I were both leaving," she said with a small smile.
"You may return to the base as soon as you can," said Anakin immediately. "I'm not going to keep you from your duty."
"Nonsense, Ani," said Padmé. "I want to be wherever you are. We've spent too long apart."
"I agree," he told her quietly. "Is the ship on the landing pad?"
Han nodded. "I put her out there a while ago."
"Then let's go," said Anakin, and Padmé took his hand discreetly, lacing her fingers with his. He glanced down and his lips quirked in a half smile.
The doors slid open to reveal the landing pad and Anakin looked up.
He froze.
Mustafar.
With a soft cry he fell to the ground, trembling. "Ani!" Padmé asked worriedly. "Ani, are you all right?"
It was as though he didn't hear her—all he could hear was the sound of flames in his hears, the smell of burning flesh—his flesh—the taste of acrid smoke eating away at his trachea, burning his lungs. Obi-Wan's face flashed before his eyes.
"You were the Chosen One, Anakin! You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!"
The searing pain at his legs and arm as they were cut away, as he fell with a sickening thud to the bank, began to slide down, so close to the molten lava. As the remains of his limbs ignited, as the flames crawled up his skin, as he clawed futilely at the bank, trying desperately to climb up.
"I HATE YOU!"
His eyes were burning, stinging; Obi-Wan's face above him was blurry. "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"
"ANAKIN!"
For a brief moment he opened his eyes to see Padmé's face swimming above his. "Padmé…" he gasped.
"You're going down a path I can't follow!"
"You're breaking my heart!"
His fingers, clenched as they drew the breath from her lungs, as they crushed her trachea—her hands clawing at her neck, her eyes wide and terrified. "An-i!" she gasped, but there was no sound as he slowly took her life away from her in his anger and hurt betrayal.
"Let her go, Anakin!"
With a moan, Anakin stood from his spot on the landing pad and stumbled away from the group, ignoring the cries of his son and his wife. He had to get there; he had to see the place the physical reality of Darth Vader had been born. Unthinkingly, he leapt across the cables and the thin supports on which he and Obi-Wan had fought so long ago, the lava swimming beneath them. The Force propelled his body further than Luke could follow and it perfected his balance as he leapt onto a repulsordrift.
The fumes of the lava rose up to greet him and he had to actively stop himself from vomiting at the nausea they awakened in him. Even with the oxygen, they made breathing difficult. He felt a shadow of the pain in his lungs but he ignored it, single-mindedly knowing that he just had to get there, he had to get to that place.
The Force was strong on the side of the bank. Without his own volition, he leapt across the flames and the flow, landing at the peak of the bank.
His eyes played tricks on him, he knew, because he could see the faint outline of himself, eighteen years earlier, slipping down. He could see Obi-Wan crying out to him, trying to make him understand.
Why hadn't he listened? Why had he allowed himself to become so blinded by pain and rage that he couldn't see that Obi-Wan was trying desperately to bring him back from the brink of Darkness? Why had he allowed his fear to cloud his judgement, his morals? Why had he let Palpatine manipulate him into destroying the Jedi? Into murdering the younglings?
He fell to his knees at the top of the bank and held his face in his hands. He was struggling for breath—the breather wasn't made for this environment—but he couldn't care less at the moment. He had to understand. He had to comprehend this place—what this place had created.
Here, the monster—in the physical and mental sense—that he became was created.
It was here that Anakin had ceased to be a man. Here that he had become more machine than man, twisted and evil, as Obi-Wan had called him. Here that he had been rendered dependent on machines to keep him alive—here that his unceasing rage had been assured.
Fear.
Aggression.
Hate.
All are paths to the Dark Side.
Paths that he would never take again regardless of the cost. He would never again succumb to the fury that had warmed him and reassured him as a Sith.
"Father!"
Anakin slowly got to his feet as Luke leapt from a repulsordrift to land by his side. "This is where it happened?" Luke asked in sudden understanding.
Anakin nodded. "Yes." His voice was a whisper, his breathing ragged.
"Are you all right?" Luke asked, concerned.
Anakin forcefully repressed the shadows of pain that crossed into his psyche. "I am," he responded finally. "I'm sorry if I scared you."
"It's okay," said Luke, taking his arm. "This isn't healthy," he told his father.
"I know," Anakin admitted as he started coughing. Once he had managed to stop, he rasped, "I just had to see it."
"I understand," said Luke, and Anakin knew that his son did understand. Had he not lived it along with his father?
Above them, the Falcon suddenly descended and the boarding ramp was lowered. "Let's go, Father," said Luke gently. Together, they climbed aboard.
"Do not ever scare me like that again, Anakin Skywalker."
They looked up to see Padmé's white face as she glared at her husband, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, Padmé," Anakin told her quietly. "I won't." He coughed twice and she immediately went to him.
"I'm not mad," she said gently. "But that was stupid. Do you want to destroy what's left of your lungs?"
"No," Anakin said, sitting beside her as Luke went up to join Han and Chewie in the cockpit. "I wasn't close enough for the fumes to combust," he told her.
"So it was good for you then," she said sarcastically. "Wonderful."
"I'm fine, Padmé," he told her as she forcefully pressed an oxygen mask over his face. "I have put it behind me."
Her eyes widened in understanding. "I'm glad," she told him honestly.
"Me too," he told her, leaning back against the comfortable couch that was part of the Falcon's lounge.
She leaned down and rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you," she told him, her words muffled by the several layers that were his Jedi robes.
"I love you too. What are you doing?" he asked her, reaching down and placing a hand on her back.
"As soon as you put that horrid suit on I won't be able to touch you," she explained, and Anakin felt a stab of guilt and regret shoot through him before it disappeared into the Force.
"I'm sorry," he told her. "I wish it was otherwise."
"I know you do," she said, looking up at him. "You more than anyone, probably. But I still hate it."
"You hate what it represents," he told her. "When you look at me, you will see Darth Vader."
"No," she began hollowly. "I know you're Anakin—"
"Padmé," he said reprovingly.
She sighed. "You're right. I will see Vader, even though I know it's you. But I've spent the last eighteen years hating whoever was behind that mask, Ani. It's deeply imbedded."
"I understand," he told her calmly, bypassing his regret. "I promise that I will do all that I can to get rid of it, Padmé."
"I know," she said, resting her head on his chest once more. "If feels nice to do this," she told him tiredly. "It's been so long."
"I'm a little different."
"Not where it counts," she returned. "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter," she quoted.
He said nothing for a long time.
----
Two days later, the calm, serene environment that hyperspace created disintegrated quickly. As soon as they exited the hyperjump, Anakin tensed, just as Han called from the cockpit, "Hey, your lordship!" he said nervously.
"What is it?" Padmé asked worriedly as she followed Anakin's movements into the cramped cockpit.
The site of a familiar, 8-kilometer long, coal-black spearhead that hung over Bain answered her question. "What are we gonna do?" Han asked anxiously.
"They must be here on the Emperor's orders," said Anakin finally. "They're going to try and get us in a Tractor beam."
"How do you know?" Han asked.
Anakin stared at him. "That's my ship," he said as though it was obvious. "I designed their strategies. The Emperor doesn't know what ship we'll arrive on, so they have orders to detain all approaching ships."
"Does that mean they're aware of your defection?" asked Padmé interestedly. "There's been nothing on the news, Ani. That kind of information would be quick to leak, even from the best crew."
"I don't know," Anakin admitted. "Solo, pull left," he said quickly.
Han did as he was told, but the damage was done. "I can't!"
"Kreth," Anakin muttered. "I should have taken the controls."
"No way," Han said instantly. "I don't let anyone else pilot my ship."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Arm yourselves," he said finally. "They aren't going to recognize me. Padmé," he said, turning to his wife. "I'm going to have to be Darth Vader for a while."
She paled. "I understand," she told him, biting her lip.
"Luke," Anakin told his son. "Watch over her," he commanded. Luke nodded just as the Falcon descended into the cargo bay of the Executor's hangar.
A voice on the comm called, "Millennium Falcon, lower your boarding ramp immediately and prepare for a search and seizure."
"Negative, Captain Best," said Anakin, who had called on the Force to make his voice deeper and richer, though it still sounded nothing like the vocoder. "This is Darth Vader," he continued. "Inform Admiral Piett of my arrival at once."
"I think that I would know my own superior's voice, unidentified man," said the man. "Lord Vader will be most seriously displeased when he gets word of someone's impersonation of him." Padmé frowned and glanced towards her husband, just as he concentrated as though looking at a far-off point, and raised his gloved hand, flexing it slightly.
The entire party paled as sudden sputtering and choking echoed across the comm. Anakin's arm dropped and his eyes lost the glaze of focus. "Understood, Lord Vader," said the man's voice shakily, hoarse and raw.
Padmé stared at her husband. "What did you do?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
"I did what Darth Vader would do, my love," said Anakin quietly. "I didn't hurt him, though. Just scared him."
"Scared me too," Han muttered to himself. "I didn't think the rumors were true."
"I wish that they were just rumors," Anakin admitted. "I had… a low tolerance for incompetence."
Padmé winced. "Ani…"
"I cannot change the past, Padmé," Anakin said firmly. "What's done is done. All that remains is to accept it." He grinned. "Plus, they aren't going to shoot us down, now."
She nodded silently and followed her husband out of the ship, Luke at her side and Han and Chewie behind them.
As expected, the admiral waited for them, looking nervous. Anakin stalked up to him. "Piett," he growled. "On whose orders is my ship here?"
Piett blanched. "My… My lord?" he asked doubtfully, his eyes caught by the horrific scarring and the oxygen that Anakin carried at his side. His glance drifted to the lightsaber at Anakin's belt.
"Yes, Admiral," Anakin replied coldly, once more drawing on the Force to support his voice. "Answer my question." He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a familiar posture he know the Admiral would recognize.
Piett straightened. "The Emperor's orders, my lord," he explained. "We are supposed to deliver anyone that comes to this system to him personally.."
"It is my system," Anakin said darkly. "I do not appreciate being caught on a Tractor beam while I am attempting to return to it."
"My orders, Lord Vader," Piett said nervously. "From the Emperor…"
"I understand that, Admiral," Anakin said, annoyed.
His eyes narrowed as a sudden flash of precognition hit him, just as Piett said miserably, "I have orders to detain anyone attempting to enter the system." He raised his hand and a squadron of stormtroopers marched forward. "Including yourself, seeing as you're a passenger," he mumbled, terrified out of his wits.
Anakin's first instinct was to send the stormtroopers flying into the wall and forcibly make Piett do as he was told. He gave a mental sigh. He was a Jedi, not a Sith. The Dark Side was ever tempting—he had to resist it. He settled for a sharp question. "You would take your own commander into custody, Piett?"
Piett turned his eyes away and a horrible sense of foreboding swamped Anakin's senses.
Oh, no.
He whipped around and used the Force to shove Luke, Padmé, Han and Chewie back up the boarding ramp and shouted, mentally and physically, "RUN!"
Padmé's eyes widened and she did as she was told, just as Chewie scooped her up and leapt inside the Falcon, Han following him just as Luke flew backwards, seemingly out of his control. Luke cried out, "Father!" just as hit his head sharply on the ground and lost consciousness.
The presence that had been hidden from him appeared quite suddenly. Nauseated, Anakin turned slowly to see a contingent of Royal Guards flanking the shrunken, hooded form of Darth Sidious as he walked slowly towards Anakin as the Millennium Falcon lifted into the air. Anakin used the Force to push the ship past the force-field that kept the hangar bay separate from space, but it was suspended, stopped, by a power summoned by the single shriveled hand that had emerged from Sidious' robes.
"Ah," Palpatine said, his horrible voice. "Your lovely wife. She lives. I suspected as much. How… fortunate."
"Release them," Anakin said in a cold voice, his hand resting on his lightsaber and ignoring the barb.
"It would be so easy to end what you began, my former apprentice," Palpatine hissed. "I could even use your method. A little squeeze—your pretty little Amidala is gone."
Anakin raised his hand—the other compromised by the portable oxygen—and raised the most powerful Force-shield around the Falcon that he could create. "No. You stole her from me once, Palpatine. It will not happen again."
"Don't be foolish, Skywalker," Palpatine snarled. "You cannot defeat me."
"Your overconfidence is your weakness," Anakin responded as he released his apprehension and fear for Padmé into the Force before it had a chance to settle in his heart. He swallowed as his gaze drifted to his son, lying still on the floor. "Let Luke go," he commanded, dry-mouthed.
"My new apprentice? He may have evaded me once, Skywalker, but it was only a matter of time before your son was mine. I will not relinquish him."
"He will never be your apprentice," Anakin spat. "He will not turn."
"Why? Is his loyalty to the Jedi as famed as was Anakin Skywalker's?" Palpatine asked mockingly. "I did not have as much time to prepare him as I did you, of course, and you had to go and ruin your potential as soon as you finally did become mine, but he will turn. I have foreseen it."
Anakin didn't let himself hear the taunts. Palpatine was only attempting to provoke him into using the Dark Side—and if he did that, there was no turning back. This was his second chance. His only chance. "I am the Chosen One," he told Sidious firmly. "And Luke is my son. He will not turn."
"The 'Chosen One,'" Sidious spat disgustedly. "Jedi nonsense. You will not defeat me. You cannot. You will die, Skywalker."
"You underestimate the power of the Force," said Anakin, not allowing himself the shred of doubt that grew within his breast. He wasn't powerful enough to defeat his former master, he knew, but if he could just distract the Emperor long enough for Luke to escape—for the Falcon to get off of the Executor—
"The Jedi are weak fools," Sidious said in a disgusted tone. "They grasp pretty tricks and mystic drivel, blind to the truth that only the Dark Side lends power." He focused his amber gaze on his former apprentice. "You will not interfere with your son any longer, Anakin Skywalker. The time has come for you to die." The red-robed guards marched forward to surround Luke, the Emperor, and Anakin.
Anakin ignored the guards and raised his lightsaber with his right hand. His eyes narrowed. "You cannot kill me," he snarled.
"Oh, it's simple enough," Palpatine croaked, lifting his hand. Suddenly, the portable oxygen ripped itself from Anakin's hand and a stab of panic swept through him—he had forgotten about it, forgotten that he was dependent on it. The tubes pulled from his nose and it suddenly felt as though a pillow was pressed against his face and he gasped for air, willing his lungs to work—just this once. He fell to his knees, his lightsaber still clenched in his fists.
"There," Sidious hissed. "Your men get to watch you die the same way you disposed of so many under your command. Fitting, isn't it?"
Anakin lifted his eyes to meet the Sith's. The familiar sensations of suffocation and panic had settled in, but he pushed them to the back of his mind, focusing on the job at hand. "He won't turn," he gasped, his voice coming out as a weak whisper.
Palpatine let out a long slow laugh as Anakin's strength dwindled. "He will. And at last, the Jedi will be no more!"
NO! Anakin screamed mentally as his awareness faded from him. I can't have failed so easily! Pulling on all his strength, he got slowly to his feet and swayed, fighting unconsciousness and reaching out to steady himself, only to find that there was no such support near himt
"Stubborn to the last," Palpatine said, shaking his head in mock chastisement. "If you insist." He raised his hands, and Anakin realized what he was going to do just as the Force-lightning poured out from the Sith's fingers. He tried desperately to raise his lightsaber to block the attack, but he had no energy—it was all he could do to stay conscious, to fight the suffocation. Anakin, your lightsaber! A desperate voice cried out in his mind. Obi-Wan? Anakin wondered dumbly, teetering on the brink of passing out. The Force-lightning seemed to move in slow motion—he could see it streaking towards him, he knew that it would kill him, but he couldn't move. His vision began to fade. ANAKIN! FIGHT IT! Obi-Wan's voice shouted. Master… Anakin managed weakly.YOU MUST BREATHE, ANAKIN! Obi-Wan was terrified, frantic.
Can't… can't… Help me, Master!
Suddenly, unexplainable, unimaginable power surged through limbs that were no longer there and gave him strength. In a fraction of a second, he raised his lightsaber to block the streams of Force-lightning, but as the Dark energy hit the blade, it propelled him backwards across the hangar bay, sending his body crashing into various crates. A shrill scream—whether it was aloud or in his head, he couldn't be sure—pierced Anakin's consciousness as the power ebbed from him, taking with it his consciousness and leaving him in pain. ANI! NOOOOOO! And then there was nothing.
----
"Get that one," Palpatine commanded to his guards. The hangar was silent. "Don't let that ship leave. I will deal with its occupants personally," he added to the Admiral—Pott? Pattel?—whose face was pale and sweaty. He was loyal to Vader, then. Strange. He would have to be disposed of soon. But right now, the man needed to keep control of the ship while Palpatine prepared the son of Skywalker. He allowed himself a smile. At last, he had his apprentice.
I know it's a terrible cliffhangar. Sorry. It was the perfect place to stop.
--Kellen
(Ar-Zimraphel)