AN- I'M ALIVE! I am SOOOOOOO sorry for the zillion-month-long delay. Once school started, I was totally swamped. I need to thank each and every one of you for the encouraging reviews, and for the occasional kick in the butt to get this next chapter out. I will do my very best to get the next chapters out on all of my other fics soon.
Enjoy this extra-long chapter in the meantime.
Thank you, Rose of the Gate, for being the most patient and awesome Beta ever!
Disclaimer- If I owned Star Wars, Anakin would not have turned to the Dark Side, we would've seen Han Solo without a shirt in the Original Triology, and Banthas would have been cuter. Therfore, I don't own Star Wars. I just want to play, and I'll return everything in good, but well-loved condition. Don't sue, please. I'm poor enough as it is.
Korriban wasn't what Silverblade had been expecting. As the sleek starship Firedance fell out of hyperspace and into orbit around the planet of the Sith, Silverblade and Anakin observed the surface through a starboard viewport.
Firedance was a beautiful cruiser, a gift to the Jedi Order from Alderaan for their assistance in a serious trade dispute that might have resulted in war if the Jedi had not been called in. A space yacht the size of a Corellian freighter, it sported rooms for each of the four Jedi, a well-stocked galley, a state-of-the-art cockpit, and a common room with a viewport on the entire starboard side, which held the two uneasy Padawans.
"It looks so..." Silverblade couldn't find the right word to describe it.
"Desolate? Barren? Dead?" Anakin supplied. He turned his face toward her and gave a little smirk. "It hasn't changed much since the last time I was here."
Silverblade shivered. This disgusting ball of rock that was slowly passing the viewport was pulsing with Dark Side energy. It made her feel queasy. She braced herself on the bulkhead to catch her breath. "You've been here before…" It wasn't a statement or a question, but the sound of the young woman trying to convince herself. "And you've returned with sanity intact?"
He gave her a devilish grin. "Well, Master Obi-Wan would say that's debatable…" His teasing demeanor changed quickly, though. "I lost many things here, Silverblade. Friends, illusions, innocence…" He shuddered. "I had hoped to never come back."
"I'm sorry for that, Anakin." She started to reach for his hand, but caught herself and settled her hand on his shoulder instead. Control, Padmé! She thought. You don't want to give away your identity, even to Anakin! She put her hand on his shoulder, instead. They stood together for a long time, watching the repulsive Sith planet rotate below them.
"I don't need sorrow," he finally said. "I need…a friend who I can trust to stand by me, no matter what happens."
She smiled at him. "I'll do my very best, but I'm not around all that much. I'm usually at the Senate."
"It'll have to do." He smiled back, and Padmé's heart did a little flip. Stop it! You're a Jedi!
She gave the slightest of sighs. After she had to refuse marriage to him and after he had told her of his previous visit to Korriban, she was constantly feeling an overwhelming sense of sorrow. "You never really have fit in anywhere, have you?" She winced under her mask. That didn't come out right.
When he stiffened, she knew she had hit a sore spot. "No. I haven't." He stalked away, throwing some excuse about seeing how long it would be before landing over his shoulder. She tried calling after him, but he stubbornly ignored her.
When the hatch closed with a hiss behind him, her heart wrenched painfully. Padmé sat heavily on the couch behind her, took off the stifling mask and put her face in her hands. With everyone's emotions close to the surface—hers included—she would have to take extra care when speaking to Anakin. If she didn't, he might discover her identity. And while she wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap hold him close, her mission was more important.
Mace soon came in through the hatch that Anakin had just disappeared through. He scowled at her lack of a mask and sat down on the couch across from her.
"If it weren't for the fact that you look like you just got trampled by a herd of banthas, I would be shouting at you for your lack of concern for your identity." He said.
"I'm sorry, Master," Padmé put the mask back on. "It was getting stifling, and my head feels like it usually does after a long day in the Senate."
"Mmm…that bad?"
She gave a small smirk. "You have no idea." She stated firmly.
Mace regarded her with a concerned look. "Have you been sleeping properly, Padawan?"
So, he noticed the bags under my eyes. Great. This is why I sometimes like to wear my mask, she thought. She shook her head. No, I haven't slept. Not since I had to refuse Anakin's proposal,
He put a hand on her shoulder in a fatherly gesture. "We'll be landing in a couple of hours. Do try and get some rest."
"Yes, Master,"
Korriban was as bland and disgusting on the surface as it had looked from above. Rough brown sand dunes stretched as far as the eye could see, only briefly interrupted by rocky cliffs and crumpled ruins of once-grand tombs of the ancient Sith. The sky was a dull, dusty grey, and the light from the sun was diffused so much that nearly everything seemed to be in shadow. A stiff breeze was blowing, throwing sand in their faces and chilling them to the bone. The occasional cry of a wamprat could be heard from the ruins, but that was the only sign of life. The very dust seemed to radiate death, decay, and evil.
The four Jedi marched down the docking ramp, onto the dusty soil, and paused. Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance.
Anakin sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. "Yeah…just about as bleak and stifling as I remembered."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I used to have a theory that any planet would seem more tolerable the second time around. I seem to have been proven wrong."
Master and Apprentice shared a knowing look. This planet was not a good place.
The four Jedi made their way to the tombs, Anakin and Silverblade walking side by side behind Obi-Wan and Mace. Every once in a while, Padmé would look up at Anakin's face. Most of the time, it was set in a very determined expression. Every so often, however, she saw his focus go distant, as if he was too far inside his own head to see the outside world. It would only last a moment or two, and then he would shake his head, frown, rub his eyes, and get that determined expression again.
It worried her.
She knew what was bothering him. He had warned her about it, and she now felt it for herself: a small sensation, barely noticeable.
It was almost like the very stones that built the tombs were calling her.
She shuddered. She knew that Anakin was much more sensitive to the flow of the Force than she was. To him, it must have been nearly unbearable.
As if sensing her thoughts, he leaned over and whispered. "It's not that bad right now. Stay focused when we get to the tombs, though. That's when the visions start. You can't stop them. Even Master Obi-Wan sees them."
Padmé shivered and pulled her grey cloak tighter.
She didn't want to be here.
Anakin was right. The visions were worse.
At first, it was just a sound, or a flash of something moving out of the corner of her eye, but soon it became visions. Her nightmares in living flesh. She would see Anakin's dead body, and she would look to her side to make sure he still walked beside her. He did, but the visions kept getting worse.
The worst came when they passed the entrance to Marka Ragnos' tomb. Her father stood before her, dressed in his brown Jedi robes, hair blowing in the wind. His face was kind, gentle. He held out a hand, palm up, as if beckoning her forward. She stayed put, she knew it wasn't real. His look changed to one of utter sadness. "Dirty," he said.
Padmé blinked. What?
"Your blood is dirty. You have been tainted, stained by me. I never loved you. I abandoned you to live on Naboo for the first three years of your life." He said. "Your mother and I ignored you when you came to the temple because you were an unwanted child. You endangered us. Our relationship had been a secret until you were born. You got your mother killed."
She shook her head. This isn't real. I know he loved me. I didn't know Mamá, but Papá was always kind to me… Her attempts to comfort herself were failing miserably. Her father, Qui-Gon, was telling her that she was worthless. She didn't realize she had fallen to her knees until she saw a tear hit the ground in front of her. She hadn't realized she was crying, either.
"You see?" Qui-Gon continued, his face full of disgust and contempt, "I'm dead because you couldn't protect your own people from a bunch of slimy toads in politicians' clothing. Your mother is dead because she couldn't take the stress of keeping our secret."
No!
Her chest constricted. It was hard to breathe. Her shoulders were shaking…
"Silverblade! It's not real, 'Blade. Come on." Anakin was the reason for her shaking. He was kneeling in before her, concern in his gaze. As he shook her back to reality, the image of her father faded into the shadows.
Padmé looked up into Anakin's eyes. She sniffled. "I'm sorry, I…"
He shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. The first real vision is always the hardest. It brings your inner-most fears to life." He got up and offered a hand to her.
She took it and hoisted herself off of the ground, dusting off her unisuit as she did so. She looked around. "Where are the Masters?"
Anakin frowned. "You were in that vision longer than I thought. They told us to split up. They're heading for one of the bigger tombs, and we're supposed to search this one."
She nodded, already walking. "Did they say what we're looking for?"
"Something about an Ancient Sith holocron. We need to find it before Dooku or his master does, or it could mean big trouble for the Jedi."
"Great," Padmé looked up at the massive structure before her that pulsated with the Dark Side. "So we're walking into the belly of a monster to steal it's offspring."
Anakin grimaced. "Yeah, something like that…"
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