Sorry about the long wait. I can try to detail and explain all the problems I faced, but that would just waste your time.
So here's the new chapter...
"Master, if protecting the Republic is so important to you, why are you creating civil discontent with your Separatist Movement?" Finn asked. It was before the beginning of the Clone War, when Count Dooku's faction was still just a principle-oriented party.
He lowered his eyes and smiled, mostly to himself. He shook his head at her, as if she was still just a willful child. A willful, ignorant child. His sonorous voice was compelling, "if you only know of the dangers that threaten us, at this very moment."
"What sort of dangers?" she leaned forward, attentively.
He smiled again, as if at a great private joke, but refused to disclose the dangerous secret. Instead, he said, "A right amount of civil discontent is always essential for a democracy. Without second opinions, the most perfect democracy is useless. A Jedi, for example, is taught early in his training to obey his Council unquestioningly."
"And that is where the Jedi are fallible."
"The Jedi are fallible in many things," he corrected her. "This is why we have great advantage over them. Only until the Jedi Code and the Jedi Council have been severely revised, will they be able to function perfectly. Right now, they are not to be trusted."
"But Master, my chief concern is the Republic. And so are theirs."
"Beware, my very young apprentice. Even the most sincere intentions can turn to harm."
Finn blinked the memories away. The "most sincere intention." Count Dooku had the most sincere intentions when he set up the Separatist Movement to warn the Galaxy of the corruption within the Senate. However, he let Palpatine play him like fool, using his senses of duty and superiority against him. Not only using Dooku for his own ends, he managed to also use him to destroy the very Republic he vowed to protect.
"The most sincere intention," she whispered to herself as she gazed out from her cruiser shield. A billion star systems each with their own individual environment and sentient lifeforms. She had sincere intentions when it came to her loyalty to the Galaxy and its lifeforms. But then again, how would she know that she was traveling down the right path? That she wouldn't end up like her old master and bring harm to the ones she loved?
The idea snapped out of her mind as fast as it had snapped it. A commander of the Galactic Military could not survive on the trait of indecision. With a squadron of warriors under her control, Finn had learned that even a split second of indecision could spell death for not only her and her men, but their cause as well. She increased the speed of her cruiser with a few light flips of switches, making the hyperdrive to give all it's got.
"And do you know where he is now?" Obi-Wan was dismayed at Padmé's lack of cooperation. He was even more dismayed at the further revelation of his own impatience.
She looked down at her slender fingers and muttered an unconvincing, "No."
Obi-Wan sighed heavily and his mind raced. Does she have no idea of the gravity of the situation? Thousands have died, mostly children. Anakin had become a great threat. This darkness, this sith lord is looming over Coruscant, over the Republic. How could the Padmé Amidala of Naboo that he knew so well, just sits there with her hands folded?
"Padmé, I need your help. He's in grave danger."
That shook her up. But she was still hesitant about giving him any information. Something was wrong with Padmé, he knew. Her trust in the Jedi was failing. "I have seen a security hologram of him killing younglings." His lips shook as he said this. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to believe it. He had wistfully thought that if he denied the truth to himself, it would cease to be. But he knew it not to be the case. He had to face the fact that Anakin Skywalker, the sweet, kind boy from Tatooine, had become the Sith Lord, Darth Vader.
Padmé had to face that fact, too. Eventually. "I don't believe you… I can't."
He lowered his eyes and forced himself closer to her. His voice full of emphasis, "Padmé, I must find him." And Finn, too. Finn might have hinted that she would destroy Anakin if he refused to turn back from his path. She couldn't kill him, he knew. Under the aloof façade of an imperial officer, her sisterly heart was still too soft to commit such an act in cold blood. But Anakin was beyond such soft feelings. A man, who could cut down unarmed children without so much as twitching an eye, was beyond redeemable.
"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" There were tears in her words, but her eyes were dry. She sat down, her bulging abdomen became even more prominent. Obi-Wan had known all this time. He was neither physically blind nor mentally stupid. But he had denied the truth to himself. He was blinded by his own feelings. He had denied to himself that he, too, could be fallible as a master. That Anakin, the glorious Chosen One, could be fallible as a human being.
Although he had been severe to Anakin as his master, never allowing any mistakes or weaknesses, he could not deny him love that the boy desperately craved. "Anakin is the father, isn't he?" Instead of pleading for her husband's life with her lively brown eyes, she turned away from him. "I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else to say as he took his leave.
Padmé put her face into her hands and sobbed. Something she had been doing much too often lately. Her pain was beyond words or feelings. Annie could not have betrayed and lied to her. He just couldn't. But Master Kenobi was far too convincing. She could not question the words of this honorable Jedi. It unnerved her. But she was Padmé Amidala, the once queen of Nabbo. She had a plan.
Finn landed her cruiser on the same porting platform where she spotted Anakin's own customized starfighter. An image flashed in front of her eyes: Anakin dressed in his undertunic with the sleeves rolled up. His boyish face was marked by patches of fuel grease. "Would you hand me that wrench there, Finn?" he pointed. She handed to him with a knowing smirk. Anakin took it with a smile and winked at her, "thanks." He was so proud of his mechanical skills and spent most of his free time making his unsurpassable starfighter even better.
The boy's face was replaced by the face of the man he had become. It was alive with feelings. During her brief stay at the Temple, the one thing that drew Finn toward him the most was how alive he was compared to the others. He was alive with passions and emotions. But the feelings were like a streak of the devil running wild beneath the smooth face. It could not be controlled, so it started an unstoppable conflagration.
Could it be controlled? She was afraid of the answer.
"Hello, my brother." Her voice was cool as the double doors slid open. Anakin greeted the greeter without surprise and without words.
What was she afraid of? It was not as if she had not killed in cold blood before. She had, for a brief time, acted as her father's personal assassin, in her brother's place. But one day, realizing the senselessness of her actions, she became disgusted. She could not stomach the "nobility of duty" her master tried to feed her, and left Count Dooku for good.
What she was afraid of was not the killing itself. A smooth swoosh of the lightsaber, a great trouble would be over. But Anakin was so alive. She loved the life within him. Her father had told her that they shared a bond within the Force. She could sense his feelings like her own, just as he could feel hers. They reciprocate, strengthening the bond even more. They were closer than even brother and sister. He was human after all. He was afraid of loss and pain. He loved just as well as he hated. He was a generous, kind friend, just as he was a ruthless, formidable enemy. Not even all the Jedi trainings in the universe could take that away.
It could not take that one fact away. That he was Anakin Skywalker.
Anakin blinked his tears away. No, no Jedi Code could make him forget that he was the same boy who could take the world in a loving embrace just as well as he could flash it with his burning hatred. Hatred. What a strong word. It dictated the strength… and focus, of all the emotional facilities of a mind, all concentrated on the object of its hate. Just as love.
There is no emotion; there is peace.
What a load of lies. There was emotion. Just as there was death. He would not let Padmé die. The Force was not the omnipotent energy that dictated the universe, but his tool. A plaything to be used to sustain his ends. He wanted power, he wanted Padmé, he wanted to be Darth Vader.
It was a wordless conversation between the two. It was far more powerful than any chat of words they had ever had. They each learned about each other, affirmed their identities, and briefly, became one another.
"My sister," his voice echoed through the hangar as he broken their bond and greeted her vocally. It had a metallic rasp in it.
"Anakin—" she began to speak, but he put up his hand. He already knew what she wanted to say. He had felt the sense of duty within her and touched the sense of compassion. She was as human and alive as he was.
But she was not selfish. She did not want anything for herself. A noble thought, he sneered. He had once been idealistic. He had once believed in the Jedi. Nevertheless, he would not give up the last thing that was precious to him.
Anakin's former selflessness had not entirely come from his sense of compassion. He was proud, almost arrogant. He had to elevate himself above all others. To the level of the Jedi. But he realized that the Jedi were nothing but sword-waving fools. He abandoned them to serve the greatest being he knew— himself.
"You are mad," her voice pleaded. "Stop it, Anakin."
"Why should I, my sister? You are exactly like me, Finn. Join me, Darth Chasse, we can rule the Galaxy together like the Twin Suns of Tatooine." His voice was dripping with seductive persuasiveness.
"Stop it, Anakin." She repeated herself. "You are playing into my father's hands."
"He's just an old man with lots of ambitions," he scoffed, "he can't hurt me."
"Of course, he can. He owns you." Finn remembered the metaphysical shackles she had and still suffered from.
"He doesn't own me. I. AM. IN. CONTROL." He bellowed at her. "And for the first time, things will go right here, for a change."
"Anakin, please stop." She pleaded. She sent a wave of her own feelings to him, to convince him of her sincerity. There was love, love for Obi-Wan, love for the Galaxy, and love for him. There was fear, fear of loss. The loss of a loved one, the loss of one's own freedom, and the loss of faith and hope. She reminded him of her own painful past. But there was also release and forgiveness.
"Stop it," this time, he said it, "your thoughts are of no importance to me." he waved a gloved hand dismissively and angrily. "If you are not with me, then you are against me. If you are against me, then you shall die!" he warned her before he swiftly drew out his blue lightsaber. Finn flashed out her own in self-defense.
She remembered the first time she had held her weapon. She was so proud. Her painstaking work took far too long before she produced this elegant weapon. No, it was not a weapon. It was the symbol of her status. The symbol of her Force-wielding abilities. It showed the attuning of herself to the Force.
It also shows that you're a sith, Anakin broadcasted as he aimed for her shoulder. And the focus of your hate on the Jedi.
"Anakin, please stop." She whispered. They sparred with expertise. It was like a deadly dance. One drew back while the other hopped forward. Then the steps continued, with beams of light flashed cross the space between them. Finn raised her saber and it came within inches of Anakin's neck. She hesitated. Using that moment of weakness, Anakin Force-pushed her backward, knocking her weapon out of her hand. He forced her backward further with his weapon and pushed a switch.
Finn panicked. She couldn't move her feet. They were stuck! It was a constraining mechanism meant for temporary tables and seats. She was hopelessly stuck there as a fly in a trap. Her eyes widened as her lightsaber was just safely out of reach.
You know what would motivate me to write more? Reviews:)