Obi-Wan cleared his throat, unsure of what the proper response to interrupting such an intimate moment should be. But he had to focus on his mission, even if it meant disregarding common courtesy.
"Padmé, if I may, I would like to speak to Mr. Heartkiller alone for a few minutes," he said, ignoring her shocked expression.
"I think that's up to John," she replied, color from the heat of the moment fading from her cheeks.
Obi-Wan turned his gaze to the Admiral, who was absolutely fuming. He didn't deduce that from his face, however. He could feel it through the Force. The man was a time bomb of uncontrolled emotions, ready to explode, quite literally, at any moment if he didn't choose his words very carefully. He reminded him of a small, untrained Force-sensitive child who just got told he would be sent to bed without dessert after supper. Except John was a grown man who was far too upset about being interrupted with a woman. Either this guy was incredibly unstable or he had fought with Padmé beforehand.
"You have impeccable timing, Obi-Wan," said John, "but yes, I will speak to you alone."
Obi-Wan noticed that Padmé and John did not exchange any further looks as Padmé all but ran from the room.
"I would first like to congratulate you," the Jedi Master began.
"On what, exactly?" asked his companion, who was beginning to calm his anger.
"Seducing our beloved Senator friend," Obi-Wan stated. "I'm sure after spending so much time with her, you know as well as I do that her walls are difficult to break."
"My private life with Padmé is none of your business unless she or I choose to share details with you," the Admiral snapped, "so let's just skip to why you're really here."
"To be blunt then," Obi-Wan began, "tell me who you are. You can't fool me, John. You have an incredibly strong Force signature. I could sense it from the other side of the base."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," John replied, his eyes meeting Obi-Wan's with an icy glare that almost made him shudder.
"If that's true," said Obi-Wan, "then I'm sure you won't know what to do if I just…"
The Jedi Master pulled his lightsaber from his belt, intending to ignite it and lunge for the Admiral. He would aim for his metal hand, since it could be reattached. But he never had the chance, as the saber was wrenched from his grasp by invisible Force and flung across the room, landing on the stone floor with a concerning wham.
"I was right, then," said Obi-Wan, walking to retrieve his weapon. "You're trained. Not a Jedi though. But not a Sith either."
"Does it matter?" the man sneered as Obi-Wan pocketed his lightsaber, sensing that he would not be attacked in response.
"It does," Obi-Wan answered. "Because if you're not a Jedi, then you're not on our side."
"What if I'm not on any side?" said John. "What if I just don't give a shit?"
"Then I feel that there's no place for you here, seeing that this is a facility filled with people who do, as you so gently put it, 'give a shit' about this galaxy," the Jedi responded.
"What you feel is of no importance to me," John replied. "Only what Padmé feels, and what I feel. And I'm not leaving. I'll not hesitate to fight you if you try to force me out."
"Oh, I don't doubt that," said Obi-Wan, "which is why I have no plans to kick you out. Only an offer."
"I don't wish to bargain with you either," John stated.
"Hear me out," Obi-Wan interrupted. "If we really are on the same side, but you don't want to tell me who you are, that's fine. At least let me help you. I can train you to control your feelings, as whoever you learned from in the past obviously didn't. We'll get along much easier that way."
Obi-Wan expected another snarky response, but was instead met with an intense bout of laughter.
"Care to share your thoughts?" the Jedi asked.
"You have no idea how incredibly ironic your statement is, Master Jedi," said John, "and I have absolutely no intentions of sharing why, nor of accepting your ridiculous offer. I'll make you a counter-offer."
"And what is that?" Obi-Wan asked as John stepped closer to him.
"You leave me the hell alone," the man proposed. "You stay out of my personal business, I stay out of your Rebellion business, and no one gets hurt."
"Is that a threat?" Obi-Wan asked.
"If you want to take it that way," said John. "I'd think of it more as a statement that shouldn't be debated in order to avoid possible negative consequences."
The Admiral pushed past Obi-Wan, heading for the door.
"One more thing," Obi-Wan added.
"And what would that be?" asked John, turning to face him with his hand on the doorknob.
"You might want to clean up that vase," said Obi-Wan. "Vandalism of base property might have others here besides myself questioning your motives, Admiral."
He stormed through the halls, ignoring the looks from various rebel residents and maintenance workers. He stopped someone official-looking and said, "I'm looking for Padmé."
"Uh, straight down the hall, fourth door on your right," the man replied before scurrying off, clearly a bit flustered by his monstrous appearance.
He pushed Padmé's door open to find that she had taken her long hair out of its braid. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, equally as plain as his own for such a beautiful woman, on a call with her parents. She looked up at him.
"Hey, Mom, Dad, I have to go," she said, "but I promise you I will visit as soon as possible."
"Please be safe, sweetheart," said Padmé's mother.
"I will, Mom. I love you," her daughter replied before ending the call.
"We never finished our conversation," he said, closing the door.
"What did Obi-Wan want?" Padmé inquired.
"To know who I am," he answered.
"Did you tell him?" she asked.
"No," he replied simply and sat down on the edge of the bed, not caring that he hadn't received an invitation.
"Do you know?" Padmé asked yet again. "Did it give you some clarity?"
This time, he had an answer. He wasn't sure if it was the kiss or his conversation with the Jedi that gave him clarity, or a combination of both, but he finally had it.
"Yes," he said. "I know that I want to be yours. That's all. And I know that you want me to be Anakin, so I suppose that is who I will try to be. I need you to understand, though, that I have spent so many years as Vader that this is going to take some time, and it needs to remain between you and me. And I'm going to need your help."
"Of course," his angel responded with a smile he hadn't seen since their time together on Hoth. "I believe in you, Ani. And I know you're not Vader, because Vader wouldn't ask for help."
Anakin chuckled, moving himself closer to her.
"I think there's something else we didn't finish, too," he said, matching her smile.
This time it was her who pulled him in for the kiss. He was surprised at the amount of force she used to pull him toward her, but he wrapped his arms around her in response more gently this time. He allowed her to lead as she leaned back against the flat base-provided pillow, pulling him down further on top of her. He adjusted his weight so he wouldn't crush her fragile figure and moved his flesh hand up to caress her brown curls as their lips continued their desperate dance, releasing the emotions that had been pent up for weeks, or, in Anakin's case, years, and reluctant to come up for air. When they finally did, Anakin whispered, "I love you, Angel."
A sudden commotion in the corridor caused Padmé to push him off and proceed curiously to the door.
Oh, you've got to be kidding.
Anakin sighed and followed her into the hallway where she pulled aside an officer.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"An Imperial ship has been spotted less than a mile from the base, my lady," the officer answered. "It appears to be landing alone, but we're sending the soldiers to their fighters just in case it's a diversion from an oncoming attack."
The Vader piece of Anakin was quite curious as to which of his men had figured out the remote location of the base, and a little bit pissed that this person had been able to find it when Vader himself hadn't. He followed the officer outside, Padmé right on his heels.
They were joined outside the main entrance of the base by Obi-Wan, Mon Mothma, and a hoard of soldiers, weapons aimed at whatever, or whoever, would be crossing the sand dune shortly. Anakin could almost hear the nervous, racing hearts of the rebels.
Soon they spotted a lone man moving toward them, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"Don't shoot," Mon ordered. "Lower your weapons. Red, Harley, escort our guest to the base.
The two soldiers known as Red and Harley sprinted through the sand to meet the Imperial. Anakin watched as they tied his hands behind his back and asked him a couple questions, likely making sure that he wasn't accompanied by any others.
As the soldiers drew closer with their prisoner, Anakin was able to see who he was…and the man was obviously able to discern his own identity, as well.
"Lord Vader?" said the shocked voice of Firmus Piett, as all eyes turned to face Anakin.
Obi-Wan acted on reflex. He extracted his lightsaber and ignited it as the rebel crowd stepped back in horror. He swung his blade toward the dark lord formerly known to him as John, and was met with a blade of red. The two sabers hissed as they clashed and Obi-Wan engaged in a dance with the opponent he had been waiting to duel with for years.
"I was right. I knew you couldn't be dead," said the Jedi Master, forgetting everyone else around him and focusing solely on the moment.
"But I am," Vader responded, flipping backward to avoid an undercut from the Jedi. "I don't want to fight you, Obi-Wan."
"Somehow I have a hard time believing that," Obi-Wan replied, twisting his saber sideways to avoid a potentially fatal blow to his stomach from Vader's.
"I don't!" Vader shouted, switching to defensive mode as Obi-Wan advanced toward him. "Look at my eyes. Look at my eyes, Obi-Wan!"
Obi-Wan glanced into the eyes of his Sith opponent as their lightsabers remained locked together, producing a seemingly endless stream of sparks. They were not golden Sithly eyes.
How could this be Vader then?
"Who are you?" Obi-Wan asked, taking a step back with his lightsaber still raised, ready for an attack.
"If you looked hard enough, you would know, Master," said the man before him with the red blade.
Obi-Wan heard screams as the rebels scattered in different directions upon the sudden approach and partial landing of one of their small fighter ships.
"Anakin! Come on!" the pilot, Padmé, yelled, extending one hand to the man outside while keeping the other on the controls.
The man, pocketing his lightsaber before Obi-Wan even had a chance to process what was happening, hopped into the passenger seat with her and slammed the door.
She said "Anakin". She called him "Anakin"…
…and he called me "Master".
"Holy Sith," said Obi-Wan as he watched the fighter speed off into the distance, kicking up a cloud of sand in its wake.
