Title: "Transcend Force"
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Before ANH (Republic episodes – a month after AOTC)
Summary: Shortly before Episode IV Darth Vader is sent on a mission to the remote planet of Luki IV. + 'It could have been anyone. Not necessarily them… us'.
Disclaimer: Star Wars belong to a genius, i.e. George Lucas. I only wish I owned Anakin/Vader! ;)
A/N: Anakin/Padme fans would probably wish to kill me for this chapter… Anyway, THANK YOU million times to those who reviewed. I decided to update a bit earlier than I planned to & it's thanks to you. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
INFALLIBLE
The briefing room was full of rebels of all life-forms and species. The air hissed with comment, charging the atmosphere with agitation. A messenger made it to the clearing, peered around and finally saw a blue-skinned Twi'lek in the corner. He waved at her and wandered over.
"Captain Salusa, I'm glad I found you".
"What is it, Marn?" the Twi'lek asked wearily. Deep blue shades circled her eyes. She didn't have much sleep these days.
"We've just received a transmission from our allies on Luki IV. Lieutenant Kerrit's already there. He has no other option but to take Vader to the Core at his command".
O'bar pressed on her temples, trying to rid herself of headache. Her heart beat wildly as if ready to leap out of her throat. For a moment she heard nothing but that overwhelming noise.
She rushed to her quarters, plugged the holo-device in. She kept asking herself again and again what she was doing. Most Twi'leks ignored the civil war. They believed that no matter who would have won, the Empire or the Alliance, the Twi'lek prosperity would come either way when the grudge is over. Her people adapted easily. Regardless of the outcome, they would benefit.
But O'bar was hungry for action, anxious to prove not all Twi'lek women were slaves or exotic dancers just like not all Twi'lek men were criminals. That's why she fled her home world of Ryloth and joined the Alliance. She also met Val there. Sometimes she wished she hadn't.
Val was what an adventurous girl could only ask for: reckless, cocky, mischievous sparks in his eyes and a load of priceless ideas under his rich mane of jet-black hair. 'With a guy like this one eventually gets more than she bargained for', Princess Leia remarked after having been introduced to him. O'bar ignored her judgement. What experience with guys could Leia possibly have? Now she was beginning to see her friend was right.
The comlink chimed and a slim figure of a young girl appeared in the holoprojector's port. Her round, doll-like face of a calm beauty expressed deep concern.
"Leia!" O'bar exclaimed. "I'm sorry to have violated the restriction for using this channel, but I desperately need to talk to you". She spilled everything out. The Princess's face remained placid. She frowned a little before saying: "This is very unfortunate! We can't afford a frontal attack on Darth Vader. Nonetheless, if he shows up on the station, we're doomed. And he will if gets to the Core!"
O'bar hung her head. She knew they would have to trigger the time bomb that would set the stirring in motion. That time bomb was now on Luki. She ordered to act immediately. Their allies on the orange moon should have to hold Vader up come what might.
Noone expected to be attacked in full view of the public.
A swarm of people flooded the streets, marching towards the test sites. Small X- and Y-winged ships flew low above the ground, splashing laser beams. A series of explosions thundered in the square. A fountain of red flame spangled with black dots shot up into the turbid sky. The blast wave jolted convulsing bodies, threw them up and smashed a layer of asphalt. The square was ringing with screams, wailing, buzzing of shotguns.
Darth Vader stepped into the street, flanked by a company of local stormtroopers. He commanded them to disperse. After that was performed, he rushed into the battle, letting the Force guide him. His hand knew no mercy. His crimson blade clashed, burning steel, turning shields and armor into pieces of demolished material. Having barely turned his head, he caught the sight of Kerrit cutting his way through a pack of rebels.
It lasted for a few minutes, or so it seemed. Blades glowed, curve arcs of laser rays danced beneath the clouded sky, tens of hands beat writhing bodies, grinding them into oblivion.
Val tripped over someone who moaned but was to drained to protest. He fell down, coughing because of smoke. Everything looked grotesque, painted in gaudy colors. A rebel pointed a blaster on him and fired before he could explain himself. A stormtrooper hit the man, saving Val's life. Sharp pain pierced his leg. He growled through clenched teeth and went on shooting. It was the hardest part. Damn them all, he was no warrior! He was no Katarn.
Victims continued to multiply. They numbered tens now, a hundred maybe. Steeped in perspiration, Val prayed it would stop.
Spinning frantically, Vader crashed his enemies. He performed every single blow with surgical precision, worthy to be admired. Blood splashed from wounds like juice from overripe fruit. Someone slashed Vader's forearm. The Dark Lord heard a gasp of astonishment. 'They think I'm a cyborg', a thought came. Vader whirled around, his cape billowing in the wind, and struck the attackers.
The battle was over quite soon. Imperial Forces rarely held anyone captive away from special detention blocks, but Vader insisted on taking prisoners. He wanted to know the aim of this attack. It looked ill-planned, hurried. The Sith Lord walked between the rows of corpses, calculating chances. Millions of 'what-if's' raced within his mind.
He noticed someone move beside the building. A survivor of the rebels. Good. Vader called a couple of troopers for the record and raised the dying man above the ground. Time to learn the truth.
"Well!" Vader growled, clenching his fingers. His victim was trying helplessly to pry them loose. "I demand that you tell me who arranged this attack, now!"
"…know nothing…" the man wheezed. "Jus' did what we were told t'do–".
"By whom?" The man went limp, his words muffled, but Vader continued to tighten his grip if only to banish his anger. Then with a disgusted sigh he threw the man against the wall. The damaged form lay still.
"Summon Kerrit!" the Dark Lord roared.
His aide-de-camp appeared almost instantly. Covered in soot and dry blood, he appeared to have gone through a rough battle. He bowed to his chief, gazing apologetically at his hurt leg – the reason he couldn't muster a real deep bow. The Sith Lord gestured towards the clearing. The moved farther from the stormtroopers and locals taking away the bodies.
"Now, adjutant, you will explain the meaning of this", Vader said crossly.
"Explain, my lord?" Kerrit asked to repeat.
"I wish to know what the purpose of this was. Surely your friends couldn't hope to defeat me. They are no match for me with all their squadrons and companies".
Kerrit arched his brows in question to the term 'your friends'. He opened his mouth to contradict it. Vader raised his hand. Kerrit's hand flew up to his throat automatically.
"You certainly did not hope to fool me with your poor masquerade. I should have given you special attention right after your arrest. You are in league with the rebels".
"How can you believe them, not me?" Kerrit wheezed. "I'm loyal to you, my lord, all I have is f-faith–".
He was already gagging. His throat, as if in the grip of invisible talons, began to constrict. Air was his first priority, and it was slipping away. Sweating, Val fell down on his knees, wordlessly praying to spare him.
"So much the worse for you, adjutant".
A loud call distracted Vader. He turned to see Sora, her face twisted by disgust which she managed to conceal at once. She was horrified. A very odd feeling coursed through Darth Vader's soul. He didn't want to aggrieve her. It appalled him that right now she was even more like that other woman that pulled him back, and wept at the loss of his innocence, and begged him to leave everything else behind while they still could.
"The captive is ready to talk", Sora announced and looked away from Kerrit, released, but coughing and gasping for air.
"You will come with me", Vader told him when his face lost its deseased, purple-blue color, and strolled towards the prison cells.
The captive was a stocky, goggle-eyed man, rather unpleasant to look at. He was shaking fiercely under the guard's piercing looks. He started blabbering once he saw Vader's powerful image in the door. The words came out muffled and choked, his face twitched, and he sobbed violently. Finally, about to call some names, he hopped towards the baffled Sora all of a sudden in attempt to strangle her. Vader rose his hand to tear him off of her, but he was late. A blast wheezed in the air. The man fell into a dead heap on the floor, shot down by Kerrit. Rubbing her bruised neck, Sora thanked him in a small whisper.
Val remained silent, frowning slightly. He could feel Vader's suspicious glance even through the lenses. His legend was probably totally ruined. For a moment he considered running his ass off, so to speak. He had much faith in the Rebellion, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice his life for its cause. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was his love for O'bar. He could leave everything behind but her.
Vader went out without a word. He decided to leave Kerrit be for a while and watch over his actions. Clearly Kerrit fired on purpose – at this particular time, to prevent the Dark Lord from finding out what the rebel had to say. However, he failed. Vader guessed that the point was to keep him on that planet. 'They don't need me at the Core. It might have something to do with… the Death Star!' Of course! The Alliance had learnt of the shining globe that appeared in the center of the Galaxy not so long ago.
"What would you have me do, my lord?" Sora asked quietly. Vader cursed his sensitivity again: neither his intuition, nor the Force had told him the girl was following him.
"You are dismissed for now, captain". As she turned to leave, relieved, he stopped her by asking: "You do not like my means of dealing with traitors, do you?"
"I don't think like is the right word, my lord", Sora replied, perplexed. Vader resisted the urge to try mind tricks on her to make her spill it out.
There was something about her… As if it wasn't him that she didn't like, but the Force itself. Last night he read her file. Daughter of a well-known businessman, kin to ancient noble families, Sora was born in the waning years of the Republic. After Palpatine's revolution Zabel's companies were expropriated. The Empire accused him of being in league with the Separatists, so he fled Coruscant to the remote system of Luki. He actually managed to rise again by taking the duties of local Commander In Chief.
Could it possibly be that the girl was Force-sensitive? In some twisted way Vader saved her, otherwise, she would have been taken to the Jedi Temple at infancy.
Sora continued to drill the Dark Lord with her huge hazel eyes. He nodded to her dismissively. The dreadful day would come tomorrow. Furious, Vader stormed into his quarters, charged the HoloNet apparatus and ran the trace search for 'Feyh, Vere'. The file turned out to be a basic interpretation of what Sora had told him earlier. He checked up on 22 years ago just to make sure his premonitions were wrong. One thing stunned him as he was about to close the dossier. He stumbled across a mention of 'two mysterious strangers, presumably, Jedi' in Dr Feyh's personal blog of that year. It didn't have any particular meaning. It was peculiar, though. It touched something inside the Dark Lord.
'It could have been anyone. Not necessarily them… us'.
Anakin barely made it out of the talons of his dream. He'd been feeling very sleepy for some reason. This planet affected him in the most peculiar way. He tried to consult his Master, but the older Jedi, still powerless because of the accident, hardly ever woke up to have a snack – and only if Anakin insisted.
Yawning and stretching, Anakin checked up on his comlink to receive another message from Padme. He had to do justice to his reserve: freaking out of desire to reunite with his wife, he, nevertheless, maintained control of himself. Barely a month of being a newlywed, already separated from his 'angel', in addition, he had to lie to Obi-Wan and entire Jedi Council for his marriage was a violation of the Code. 'You've made a commitment', Obi-Wan loved to lecture him. 'A commitment is not easily broken'. He had made a commitment and he had chosen to live a lie. Somehow he just had to deal with that.
"Anakin", Kenobi's voice broke into his thoughts. Young Jedi glared at him with tired eyes. Force, he wanted to fall asleep again and rest until Coruscant stone mazes dissolved into real jungle.
Skywalker gestured for Obi-Wan to wait, washed his face with cold water and wiped it dry. His cheeks flushed pinkish, giving him a cocky, boyish appearance.
"I need you to go looking for a suitable transport", said Obi-Wan, switching the tap off after him. "Alas, I cannot join you. I must be present on that unfortunate briefing we are missing right now. I hope it will be no problem. Distortion's been really nerve-wrecking".
"You should rest, Master. You still look sick".
"Now that's a Jedi Healer! One good experiment doesn't make you a doctor".
Anakin blinked in surprise. That was too harsh, very much unlike Obi-Wan. He also perceived that.
"I'm sorry, Anakin. I don't know what's come over me".
"It's alright, really. Probably just stress", murmured Anakin.
As he walked along the street, his thoughts whirled around that odd collision. 'Just stress', he scolded himself. That sounded very far-fetched: a true Jedi would never fall under stress. Of course, being nearly killed in the slaughter-house on Geonosis and all that… Anakin brushed torpor off. That was insignificant now. To get to Coruscant only mattered, here and now.
Looking for a cosmodrome, Anakin came across an imposing spherical building made of glass and durasteel. Light flashed through its curves and rafters, weaving a rich, golden tapestry. It covered the building, making it look like a huge mirror reflecting the sky. Colorful flags battered on its spires. The parking lot teemed with aircrafts of all models. After a brief moment of doubt Anakin merged with the crowd that was as if being sucked into the entrance.
It was a feast of sound and vision. Thousands of droid models chirped, and squirked, and jingled on various stages, everything from kitchen cleaners to large armored shooters charged with armor-piercing shells was a matter of pride of some genius. People approached the stages, examined exhibited material, occasionally bought something. Fascinated, Anakin roamed the halls of the demonstration center, avoiding HoloNet cameras, caressing display units with his gaze. Outstanding! Anakin hardly mustered his breath, sharpened by admiration. He glared at every exhibit as if he were a child entranced by a unique toy. Unique, the very right word. Everything here was just so… mesmerizing.
He rather sensed than saw a woman to his left, fighting an unruly droid. It beeped and whined, spinning wildly, running into every hard object with a loud chirping.
"No, no, no!" Anakin exclaimed, rescuing the exhibit from the woman. "This type has a very sophisticated structure. You'd have to plug this wire in here in order to start the device of a regular B-2. 1 mechanoid, whereas here you should use this port". He unwrapped the woman's fingers still constricting the plug gently and connected it up. The droid's craze vanished without a trace. It calmed down and greeted his mistress with a cheerful beeping. "Oh, and those little fellows need brushing after every session. You know that, right?"
"Thank you so much", the woman smiled, relieved. "I'm not a good hand at droids".
Anakin examined her cautiously. She was, in his opinion, of a warm, coffee-like beauty. Her long brown hair lay loose on her shoulders, framing creamy face sprayed with bluing that came out of the robot. She accepted Anakin's handkerchief with a shy smile. Unwittingly, he feasted his eyes upon her.
"I'm Vere Feyh", she introduced herself. The Jedi shook her hand.
"Anakin Skywalker".
"Welcome, Anakin Skywalker from afar!" She giggled girlishly at his puzzled face. "Well, first of all, you're dressed differently. Then, you have a Coruscant accent. And lastly, you wear that rabbit-in-the-headlights facial expression that marks all outlanders here". Yeah, it wasn't so hard to deduct that. Anakin smiled cheerfully. "To thank you", said Vere and waved towards a small coffee-house around the corner. "My treat".
Anakin didn't have that much experience with women. Girls in the Temple had always been no more than his fellow Padawan learners. His heart had only ever beaten faster for Padme. But that day he met a woman that was smart, and funny, and elegant in some other way. She shared his passion for fixing things though droids made her jittery, going rebellious on her. Moreover, she hated sand and avoided desert planets, she loved podracing and flew speeders like a maniac. They chattered for hours. Anakin defined her as amazing.
"By the way, I find your name wonderful. It is very… uncommon. There is an ancient language that comes from a planet that has been non-existent for thousands of years, long before the Republic times. There is a word 'anakin' there. It means… 'Chosen One'".
"Of course", Skywalker muttered. His lifetime curse – the one who can bring balance to the Force.
As they parted, Vere bid goodbye to 'the Chosen One who walked the sky'. Men like him became great. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been born.
Completely enticed, Skywalker returned to the motel. The sky swell with rain clouds. Anakin paused and tilted his head to catch some strange echo, some vibration that had passed him by just then. It rankled him and altered the very shape of things. The Force whispered to him. He couldn't distinguish any words, but he felt its accusatory intonation. It frowned upon his doing. Did he really betray his feelings for Padme? No, of course, not! He just had a pleasant time, a few precious hours worthy of remembrance in the future.
Anakin hid from the rain that had set for a long time in his room. Not only the Force took it upon itself to frown, but so did Obi-Wan.
"Did you rent the ship?"
Anakin opened his mouth and closed it with a click. He forgot! It totally slipped his mind! Obi-Wan gasped at the outrage.
"I can't believe it! What have you been doing all this time, then?"
"I… Well…" He wanted to change the subject and told Obi-Wan how weird the Force had felt just before his return, but his Master was particularly inflexible today. In fact, he had never seen Kenobi that grumpy.
"Are you implying that you literally screwed our last chance to get to the military briefing in the Temple up because you've been to that technical show? Oh yes, you lied to me, Anakin, I'm well aware of that. I saw your face on the HoloNet just for a brief moment in the flick about that activity. I just can't understand why you chose not to tell me! I know you wouldn't tell me, I just know it. Why blame the Force, dammit? Admit it: you forgot! And it wouldn't be your first blunder!"
Anakin blinked, offended and outraged. This was no mere stress. It was as if Obi-Wan had ceased being a Jedi all of a sudden. Moreover, this was not Obi-Wan. Anakin considered that every patience had a limit, but Obi-Wan's expanding exasperation was more of an opposition to that theory. As if that man had never had any patience at all.
"Bloody Sith, you should listen to me and learn, Anakin! If you have no respect for me as a person, you should at least respect my age and my experience!"
Biting his lip, Anakin stared at him bluntly. The door slammed shut, and only then he realized his Master was off. Something cold crept inside Anakin and tossed there. He was angry and scared and tried to choke those feelings for they were a path to even more fear and anger.