Happy All Hallow's Eve and All Saint's Day! :D
The night sky was incredible. They were so far from any sort of unnatural light that the amount of stars in the sky was innumerable. Mists filled the sky as well, transforming it from its usual blackness to a matte painting of deep blue, pink, and purple. One single cloud, thin and tenuously hanging on to existence, floated lazily overhead, barely visible in the darkness. It was a rare occasion on this world for both moons to be missing from the sky—it only happened once every five years—but when it occurred, it gave way to one of the most beautiful pictures of the galaxy… and even galaxies beyond.
Obi-Wan sighed in contentment, breathing in the fresh cool air. It was winter on this world, but the winters here were mild. This place was practically a vacation from the last world where he had been… where they had been.
Turning his head, he was dazzled by something even more beautiful than the sky. Siri lay beside him, gazing up at the stars in amazement. Her ocean blue eyes glistened as they reflected the lights from above, and her mouth was slightly ajar with a ghost of a smile gracing her lips as she stared in wonder. She couldn't take her eyes off the heavens, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.
"I told you it was nice." Obi-Wan reinforced a statement he had said earlier in the day when Siri had been disbelieving of the nighttime view; the two had been working all day and were exhausted, and Siri hadn't originally been keen on losing sleep to stargazing.
Siri was speechless.
Honestly, Obi-Wan was just happy to see her in one piece. After their previous assignment to a world called Kerlin 7, anything was a breath of fresh air; there had been a plague on that world, and Siri had been exposed to it and placed under quarantine. Obi-Wan had been worried sick. She'd since been released, obviously, and they both were reassigned somewhere a little less life threatening. Siri claimed she was alright, but Obi-Wan was grateful for the new assignment, and he did everything in his power to ensure she was healthy, happy, and well rested.
Siri's smile increased, and she whispered, "It… it makes you feel so small. It makes you feel like there's so much more out there than just the junk we see day in and out."
Obi-Wan glanced up at the sky once more. "Yes, I suppose it does."
The two remained silent for a time, enjoying the peacefulness of the setting. Obi-Wan could fall asleep right there, honestly.
"Obi?"
Obi-Wan looked at Siri. "Yeah?"
"…Do you ever miss home?"
Obi-Wan raised his head a little, not expecting the question. Then he pondered it. Did he miss home? Well of course he did; he loved his family and wished they could all go to these worlds together. Padmé was too young, though; she was only eleven, after all. The Refugee Relief Movement saw some pretty grisly scenes sometimes, but they typically didn't arrive until after a situation had been handled, or they went to refugee centers rather than the action zone. The service corps, however… they were on the front lines. Padmé didn't need to be here. Sola, on the other hand… well, Obi-Wan wouldn't mind having Sola around. Before he'd met Siri, Sola had been his main companion; the two were roughly the same age, give or take a few months, and so they'd grown up looking out for each other and doing everything together. Sola had always enjoyed teasing Obi-Wan; she was very forward with her emotions and her expression of them, and she knew that made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, so she always used it to her advantage. Obi-Wan distinctly recalled one time just before he'd left for his first service tour when Sola had concocted some convoluted plan to get Obi-Wan and Siri to go to a dance together after Obi-Wan had admitted he thought Siri was pretty. It… hadn't ended well.
Despite wanting to kill her that evening, though, the two had gotten passed it. And Obi-Wan did miss her.
"Yes," he eventually answered.
"I thought doing this would make me forget about Naboo," Siri sighed. "I thought I could run away from it."
Obi-Wan sat up, a little bemused. "Why would you want to run away from Naboo?"
"It's not you," Siri hastily diffused his concern with a gentle smile as if she'd read his mind. "It's just… the foster home where I grew up wasn't bad, but it's like… it's like a constant reminder that someone didn't want me. That no one wanted me. I mean, I know you're not actually related to the Naberrie family, but at least they adopted you. They wanted you."
Obi-Wan watched her, uncertain. He wanted to reassure her somehow, but he wasn't sure what to do. He was never good at this part of conversations. So he just let her continue to speak; it was apparently what she wanted to do, anyway.
"I just… wanted to get away. I didn't want to be alone." Siri looked away, a little embarrassed. Her voice shook slightly; Obi-Wan was fairly certain she was on the verge of tears, and he immediately became uncomfortable.
"Siri…" he said, watching her. He wasn't sure what to follow up with, so he tentatively raised a hand before hesitating. Mom would have enveloped him in an enormous hug right now if he were the one crying, at which point he'd hastily get over his problem and say he was fine before breaking down once more. Mom was blasted good at making his emotions come out. He figured it was just a motherly talent. But he sure as heck wasn't a mother, and he was fairly certain Siri wouldn't want to be treated like a child, so that wasn't an option here. What would Dad do?
Honestly, Obi-Wan was fairly certain he'd never cried in front of his father. Well, scratch that idea, then.
He'd cried in front of Sola once when they were doing RRM work together. They'd just relocated two children, but the children died shortly after. Both Sola and Obi-Wan had broken down, having bonded with them. Neither could really console the other, but Sola tried, to her credit. She had just held him and let him cry on her while she'd cried on him. They'd both been vulnerable, and they'd both given support; it hadn't seemed as bad since he wasn't the only one. Again, that wasn't the case here.
Blast it, what was he supposed to do?
Siri let out a laugh, but it came out as mostly a sob. "Obi, do me a favor."
Obi-Wan immediately sat up straighter, eager to try and help. "What is it?"
"Don't freak out."
Obi-Wan was about to ask what she meant when Siri turned to face him once more and engulfed him in a hug tight enough to squeeze the air out of his lungs. Obi-Wan tensed, not expecting the maneuver, and then he awkwardly sat there, letting her cry on him. Well, he supposed that was one way of handling the matter.
"Now put your arms around me, moron," Siri's muffled voice said from his chest.
Obi-Wan sighed. Yep, Siri was already feeling better. Hugging her hesitantly at first, he eventually found as much comfort in the gesture as she apparently did, and the two held each other tightly for what seemed an hour, sitting in the cool air under the starry sky.
Eventually he felt Siri giggle, her breath tickling his neck as she pulled away just a hair. Tears were still pouring out of her eyes, which were puffy from all the crying (at least from what he could tell in the dim light). "Obi, you're hopeless."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed. "How am I the hopeless one? You're the one crying."
"Because you're kriffing clueless."
"You shouldn't be swearing like that," Obi-Wan chastised, even more irritated by her remark. She knew how to get on his nerves, that was for sure. "It's rude—"
Obi-Wan was interrupted when Siri leaned forward once more, pressing her lips against his. Obi-Wan tensed immediately, feeling electricity flow through his veins. His heartbeat skyrocketed, his eyes widened, and his hands released their hold on Siri, frantically waving around for a few seconds before he began to return the gesture. This was awkward. This was beyond awkward. But blast it, it was amazing too, and the longer they kissed the more comfortable he became with it until they were practically all over each other.
Eventually Obi-Wan broke the connection, allowing them both to lie on the grass beside each other. Siri snuggled in close to him, and he didn't push her away, but he didn't reinitiate anything, either. He was too busy gasping for air and trying to get a hold of himself.
"What was that for?" he eventually asked.
Siri suddenly groaned, sitting up. "What do you think, you big shaak? You think I just randomly kiss guys for the heck of it?"
"But—but you were crying before," Obi-Wan pointed out, growing confused.
"Boys," Siri grumbled, rolling her eyes and standing.
Obi-Wan was so lost.
"Obi?"
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, looking up. Siri was standing in front of him, some food in one hand and a cutting knife in the other. She had offered to make a meal for everyone since they hadn't eaten in a good number of hours. The lounge smelled of chopped vegetables, but judging from the ingredients in Siri's hand, it didn't look like she had cooked anything just yet.
Obi-Wan gave her a reassuring smile. "Yes?"
"You alright?"
"I'm fine," he replied.
"You'd better not still be brooding about the Jedi stuff." Siri remarked, waving the knife pointedly in his face. Obi-Wan inched further into the sofa; his wife was dangerous enough when she wasn't armed.
"I'm not," he assured her. "Actually, I was thinking about our first kiss."
Siri relaxed, and a sly smile slowly crept across her face. "Mm, yeah, I remember that."
Obi-Wan blushed and looked away. He knew that look. "Don't forget you offered to make some food, Siri; I don't think it would be prudent to abandon that task."
Siri rolled her eyes. Or at least he imagined she did. "Al can make the food, you know."
Obi-Wan felt himself take a deep breath as if he'd run a kilometer, and he glanced at Siri. Just looking at her now was a temptation, and so he looked away once more.
"You've come a long way since then," Siri remarked, walking towards him slowly. "You catch cues a little better… most of the time, at least."
Obi-Wan crossed his arms. Throwing her a sour look, he said, "I appreciate the compliment, really."
Siri laughed, and he immediately relaxed once more, feeling his body tingle as she took another step towards him. "I can't help that you're overly sensitive."
"I wasn't the one randomly sobbing." Obi-Wan noted with a smile. Siri put the food and the knife down on the small table in front of the sofa and sat herself on Obi-Wan's lap, playing with his hair.
"I had a good reason to, you know," she whispered.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and the two inched closer to each other. "Yes, I know."
"Hey, guys, how's the—oh, oh, uh…" Al said as he entered the lounge.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Siri was stiffer than a board, throwing a glare in Al's direction. Al was plastered against the wall, melting under her gaze, and Obi-Wan could see through his dark complexion that he was blushing furiously. His green eyes darted between the two of them and he hastily held his hands up in appeasement.
"Uh, sorry, I'll just—well, I'll go back to the cockpit—uh, yeah, and… is the food ready yet?"
The cutting knife went flying and Al hastily fled the lounge.
Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "Try not to kill him, dear."
Grabbing the knife irritably from where it landed, Siri snatched the food and stormed into the kitchenette.
Well, he supposed it was time to play peacemaker. Entering the cockpit first, he offered an apology and asked if Al was still intact. The Zabrak gave a hasty apology in return alongside a frantic complaint that Siri was completely insane sometimes. Obi-Wan laughed and agreed, but he assured Al that she'd never actually hurt him… too much.
"Yeah, that's what worries me," Al replied. "Let me know when it's safe to traverse my own ship again, okay?"
Obi-Wan acknowledged him and then walked to the kitchenette on the other side of the lounge. Siri was chopping madly at some vegetables, sending little bits of food flying all over the counter. He felt his gut clench and the room felt heavy, as if her anger were somehow sucking the air out of the vicinity. Sighing, he walked towards her and stood directly behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he squeezed slightly in an attempt to calm her.
"I know," she muttered, knowing his intention. "I'm calm. Really."
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, though he knew his wife wouldn't see the gesture. Still, she apparently expected it, and she once again said she was alright.
"It's just…" she sighed, putting the knife down. "It would be nice to forget about all this mess for a little while."
Obi-Wan smiled and positioned himself beside her. He took her hand in his and then offered the knife back to her. She'd been strong for him after what he'd learned from Adelig. Now it was his turn to return the favor. "Cooking is a good stress reliever, I hear. What shall we make?"
Siri took the knife with a smile and looked at the food. "I was thinking of some of that famous Naberrie stew. I don't make it as well as your mother, but we've got the ingredients for it."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll help, then."
The two worked in silence, not needing to say anything else. The smell of different vegetables became overpowering before Obi-Wan pulled out the available meat. Typically the stew was made with shaak meat, but that was only found on Naboo, so the next best thing was nerf meat; appropriate anyway, considering their destination. In the small amount of time it took to put the stew together both cooks had calmed considerably, and they stood together, content with their tasks and their situation. Despite the fact that the galaxy was practically crashing down around them, they still had each other, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.
Padmé glanced out the window. She'd left Vader alone the entire trip, but judging by how much time had passed, she was fairly certain they'd be arriving soon. She wasn't sure if she should go to Vader and see if he had actually slept a little or if she should just leave him be. She figured she should check on him, honestly; Padmé highly doubted that Vader ever really had anyone show that much concern for him, and if she were in his situation she would certainly appreciate the company.
If she were in his situation.
Padmé stood abruptly, rattled. She'd never really put herself in his shoes; Siri's vehement hatred of him had rubbed off on her enough that she hadn't quite convinced herself that Vader was actually relatable. But Padmé had found a surprising amount in common between them; obviously their viewpoints concerning the galaxy were vastly different, but that wasn't surprising given his upbringing. And did he even really have a viewpoint?
She needed to rectify that. No one deserved to be living as a droid; Vader had to have some sort of opinion on something. She was certain. And she would find out what it was.
Well, that settled that, then.
Taking a deep breath, Padmé slowly exited the guest quarters of the shuttle and walked to the main lounge. The door leading to the cockpit was directly in front of her. Edging towards it, she wondered what she would say, how she would approach this. Honestly, she should be thinking about the situation to come, and she had given it some consideration in the time she'd been alone, but now she was just thinking about Vader.
She'd been doing that entirely too much lately.
Entering the cockpit silently, Padmé crept towards the pilot's chair to see what Vader was doing. She shouldn't be sneaking up on him like this, but she was genuinely curious to see what he'd be doing when he was alone.
Vader was curled up on the seat, barely taking any space. His head was crammed against the armrest, his arms tucked in. It didn't look very comfortable, but he was out cold. He gave a slight shiver, and Padmé suddenly registered how chilly it was in the cockpit. Quickly going to the guest quarters, she grabbed a blanket and returned to the cockpit, hoping she hadn't awoken him. Thankfully, Vader was still asleep upon her return, and she placed the blanket over him, barely touching him to ensure he wouldn't notice her.
Sitting in the co-pilot's seat, Padmé watched Vader for a little while. This was only the second time she'd seen him asleep, but she noted he still had the same childlike look to his face. How old was he, anyway? She'd never really bothered asking, which made her feel a little guilty.
One of the consoles beeped, signaling their imminent exit from hyperspace. Vader jumped slightly, sniffling and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He hadn't noticed she was there yet. Padmé remained silent.
Stretching his legs, Vader squeezed his eyes shut as he no doubt pushed passed whatever stiffness had arisen in the short duration of his nap, and then he abruptly opened them, leaping to his feet. The gesture startled Padmé, even more so when she realized he was looking right at her. He was probably waiting for some sort of explanation, and she'd obviously caught him off guard. Despite her own sudden fear, though, the irony of the situation was not lost on her, and she remarked, "Not so fun when you're the one waking up to see somebody watching you, is it?"
Vader went white as a sheet.
"It's okay," Padmé said in a reassuring tone, a little caught off guard by his reaction. "I was just joking. Though I'm glad you got to be scared; maybe that will teach you the lesson Grand Moff Tarkin apparently couldn't."
Vader's face immediately grew stone cold, and his eyes pierced through her like swords. "I don't need teaching from you."
Padmé heard the challenge in his tone, and she stood, accepting it. "If that were the case, then I wouldn't have to point out your rudeness from earlier, now would I?"
Vader was about to reply when he suddenly looked at his feet, apparently remembering the blanket, which had since fallen. Then he glanced at her again, as if asking if she'd put it there. Padmé nodded. She didn't bother saying anything; based on their interactions over the past week she'd learned that he spoke few words and appreciated few in return.
Vader's face immediately softened, and he watched her with curiosity and confusion. Stooping down, he picked up the blanket, glancing at it, and then at her. She wasn't sure if her response or her action had merited his behavior, but she simply sat in the co-pilot's chair once more.
Eventually the silence endured too long for her liking, and so she explained. "You were shivering. I just… wanted to help."
"Help?" he repeated, his eyes locked with hers.
Padmé sighed. She really did have to explain everything, didn't she? Did Vader know nothing about the decency that sentient beings were capable of? Did he know nothing of kindness?
In that moment Padmé wanted nothing more than to take him by the hand, guide him to a bed, and just let him sleep. She wanted to look after him, to just change the circumstances so that they were only in hyperspace for the sake of a vacation instead of a mission. She felt like they'd reached new ground between the two of them, like if they had more time on Varykino they could learn all sorts of new things about each other now, open new doors. But they didn't have that time at the moment. Now they had to worry about CC4. Still, they had an entire week before the final recess was over.
The sound of the hyperdrive grew quieter and the engines roared to life as they exited hyperspace. Vader immediately sat in the pilot's chair, strapping in and grabbing the controls. Padmé also strapped in, watching him work. He referenced some information on a few screens and then brought up a hologram of the moon where the colony was situated.
The moon was relatively small, orbiting a gas giant, and its climate was fairly moderate; it tended to have long cold winters and cool summers, and its atmosphere contained standard amounts of oxygen. Despite being called Chommell Colony 4, as if it were only one establishment, the colony had multiple sites along the only continent on the moon; its main purpose was to mine for a special mineral found there. The colony had no air defenses and no station orbiting it; Vader contacted the main colony's ground control directly. Once he obtained permission to land, he guided the ship into the atmosphere. As soon as they passed through the cloud line, Padmé caught sight of the main colony; most of the infrastructure of the standardized buildings was destroyed; rooves were collapsed, stations and equipment were buried in rubble. Everything looked so small and fragile from the air. The colony looked like a large scar in the valley where it sat, surrounded by the blazing colors of the autumnal forest.
A single landing pad was cleared of wreckage, allowing Vader to land the shuttle. As soon as they had touched the ground, Padmé was on her feet. She had noticed Iena's approach as Vader had piloted the ship, so she immediately ran to the landing ramp.
Opening the ramp, Padmé caught sight of Iena. The woman was a middle aged Human female, standing at about Padmé's height. She had tan skin, small brown eyes, a pointed nose, a minute scar from a service corps assignment from long ago, and grey hairs shining in the bun in which she always had her black hair. Her appearance was more disheveled than Padmé was used to, and her clothing was slightly torn and dirty.
"I brought some supplies," Padmé immediately said to reassure her.
Iena allowed herself a small smile of relief. "Thank heaven for small favors. I hope you brought some reinforcements, too."
Padmé immediately whispered, "Not the kind you hoped for, but yes. Just… don't mention that now."
Iena caught her meaning, and she nodded, though Padmé was fairly sure she wasn't expecting to see Darth Vader come down the landing ramp. Still, barely anyone knew of his appearance outside of people in the military, so when he did arrive on the landing ramp, Iena only offered a smile.
"Thank you for coming," she said to them both as Vader joined Padmé. "I'm sure you can tell now just how dire the situation is."
"What's the status on Rekk?" Padmé immediately asked as soon as Iena ordered people to get the supplies off the shuttle. "Have you heard from his kidnappers recently?"
"As recently as last night," Iena answered. "They're saying they'll kill him if they don't get the ransom by nine."
Padmé immediately referenced her chronometer to see what the local time was; it was eight in the morning. She immediately felt her adrenaline increase. "That doesn't give us much time. Do you have any idea where these people are? How much are they demanding?"
Vader interrupted Iena's answer. "You said the colony couldn't house the survivors anymore, but the slaves were preventing you from leaving. There's no gang here, and you have a landing pad."
"All the local ships were destroyed in the quake." Iena answered. "Our own ships were destroyed by the slaves."
"How did they destroy your ships? Why didn't they take over this site?" Vader asked.
"We landed at all three colony sites," Iena replied. "All our pilots were called to the secondary site after dropping us off, though; said they needed extra supplies and help. The slaves destroyed them there; that's where they rebelled originally. We haven't been able to make contact with anyone at that site since the ships left.
The ransom is one million credits, and all we know is that Rep. Svoule is probably in the secondary colony. We lost contact with the tertiary site yesterday. I don't know if the rebellion is spreading or if the group just moved sites."
Padmé nodded. "So we've got our work cut out for us. Did they provide an exchange location for the money?"
"They provided coordinates, but the coordinates lead to a canyon just outside of the secondary site. It was formed along the fault line of the quake. It's unstable." Iena said, pulling up a hologram of the location. "And it's a perfect spot for an ambush."
"Yes, it is," Vader intoned. "Can any of your people use blasters?"
Iena barked out a laugh. "I might have one or two people from the countryside of Naboo who can use a rifle, but I can't make any guarantees. We're relief workers, not soldiers."
"That leaves you and me, then." Vader surmised, glancing at Padmé. "We should head out now."
Padmé looked at him, curious and a little startled. "I need time to amass the money."
"We're not negotiating."
"Look, I'm in charge of this mission," Padmé argued, facing him fully. "We're not killing anyone if we don't have to."
"They've already forfeited their lives." Vader replied, and his tone grew heavy and deep. "As soon as they opened fire on Imperial soldiers they declared themselves traitors."
"We're doing this my way," Padmé said firmly, lowering her voice almost to a growl. She wasn't going to back down from this; despite her growing feelings towards Vader, she wasn't going to stand by and watch him slaughter people. "I'm getting the money together, we're going to the coordinates—we can even get there early to stake out the place—and I'm going to try to make a deal with them. If the negotiations fail… well, then we can try alternatives."
"My form of negotiating is far simpler," Vader said, though his tone held less of a bite to it. Apparently he didn't find the argument worth too much effort.
Padmé raised an eyebrow. "You have a form of negotiating?"
"Aggressive negotiations."
Oh brother. Facing Iena, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and concern, Padmé held out her hand. "Give me the coordinates. We'll head out as soon as I can get the funds ready."
"Padmé, one million is a lot, even for you," Iena said as she gave Padmé the data file with the coordinates and a map. "Are you sure you can get that kind of funding in time?"
Padmé nodded. "Don't worry. One way or another, we'll sort this out."
Iena thanked her again and then began to organize all the supplies Vader had brought. It was a surprising amount, and Padmé glanced at Vader with a raised eyebrow. "Speaking of funds, how did you pay for all those supplies?"
Vader shrugged. "The governor."
"Tarkin knows about this?" Padmé asked, startled. Just how much had Vader been telling Tarkin?
Vader shook his head. Padmé gaped at him.
"You stole his money?"
Again, Vader shook his head.
Padmé grew confused. "Wait, so you used Governor Tarkin's money to pay for the supplies without his knowledge, but that's not stealing?"
Vader shrugged. "It's not the first time I've done it."
Tarkin was either an idiot or had the patience of a saint with this guy. In either case, although it was a baffling situation, it wasn't the biggest problem on her mind right now. Padmé shook her head and glanced at the data chip that held the coordinates and map. Pulling out a small holoprojector that fit snugly in the center of her palm, she inserted the chip and watched the holographic map come to life. The meeting site was halfway between sites one and two; judging from the distance it would take about twenty minutes by swoop bike, assuming any were available. If they had to walk it would take twice the amount of time.
Vader obviously came to the same conclusion as he glanced at the map. "I'll find some speeders. If you wish to get money together, then be finished with the task before I return."
Padmé acknowledged him and watched him walk off the ramp. Sighing, she reentered the ship, accessing HoloNet in the guest quarters. She hastily inserted an ID chip and allowed the console to scan her hand, and then she accessed her banking account. Being on a senatorial payroll did have its perks, and while it would significantly dig into her account, she could pull out a million credits if necessary. Transferring it onto a blank data chip, she exited the ship once more. Vader was already there with two swoop bikes.
"I didn't think they'd have any that weren't damaged," Padmé remarked, surprised.
"They were damaged. I fixed them."
"That was awfully fast," she noted as she descended the ramp. When she reached for the nearest bike, Vader tapped the other one to get her attention.
"Use this one," he advised. "Neither is in perfect shape at the moment; I didn't have much to work with. This one will kick less."
Padmé grew a little nervous. "Kick less or not kick at all?"
Vader shrugged. Well that was reassuring.
Sighing, Padmé placed the money chip in a pouch on her utility belt. She inserted the mapping chip into a receiver on the front of the swoop bike, and immediately coordinates appeared in holographic form just above the handles. Sitting on the bike, Padmé was about to turn it on when the data chip floated out of its slot and into the other bike's navigation console. She knew at this point that it was Vader, and she shot him an inquisitive look. Was he so insistent on leading this?
"I'll take us via an alternative route." He said.
"What alternative?"
"It'll take us to the edge of the canyon. We'll go on foot from there; that will allow us more scouting time."
She found no reason to argue with him. His caution was merited considering the situation, so she simply nodded in agreement. Vader activated his bike, Padmé followed suit, and then the two slowly guided the speeders through the rubble ridden streets, maneuvering around people. Once they reached the edge of the colony site, Vader gunned the engines, immediately shooting ahead. Padmé did so as well, though not as abruptly; she wasn't a huge fan of swoop bikes, having only piloted them once or twice in her life… not that she was going to admit that to Vader. After all, she knew he would not want to share a bike with her.
Padmé gasped as the two flew into the forest. Since it was autumn here, the air was crisp and cool, and the wind immediately bit into her; she really should have worn her white shawl. The trees were thankfully pretty spread apart, though the groundquake had caused quite a few of them to fall, so she constantly slowed the bike to maneuver around them. Vader, on the other hand, didn't lose a second; he had already rushed so far ahead she could only hear his engine. She began to grow a little concerned; since he had the map he would be fine, but if he left her eating his dust the situation wouldn't be so good for her.
Padmé increased the bike's speed a little when she noticed the path was relatively clear for a while. She continued to glance around, looking out for debris and for any rogue who might want to take advantage of a lone traveler in a large unprotected area. Eventually, the sound of a swoop bike became louder before she caught sight of a blur passing her in the distance before turning around and coming up alongside her.
It was Vader. He glanced at her before returning his gaze ahead. "Why are you taking so long?"
Padmé rolled her eyes, and yelled over the wind, "Oh, just trying to not get myself killed, is all. Sorry that leaves you impatient."
"We need to get there in plenty of time."
"If you make me drive any faster I won't be getting there at all." Padmé argued.
"That's not an option." Vader shook his head. "Hop over."
Padmé felt adrenaline surge through her blood. "What?"
"Jump over here."
"Are you insane?!" she yelled, continuously moving her gaze from the path ahead to the lunatic pilot beside her.
"As soon as you get off the bike it will begin to slow; nothing's in the direct path. It will stop moving by the time any obstacles arrive."
"You're worried about the bike?!" Padmé snapped. "I was worrying about myself!"
"You're strong; you'll be fine." Vader replied, and then Padmé screamed as she felt herself get yanked out of the bike and hovered right above his. She grabbed his shoulders, and as soon as she did, she dropped roughly onto the seat with a groan. Her arms wrapped around him in a hasty attempt to prevent herself from falling off the back of the bike.
"By the Force, I'm going to kill you!" Padmé shouted.
Vader ignored her. Revving the engine, he doubled their speed to the point where Padmé could barely keep up with what was coming. Swoop bikes were designed with the relatively slow reflexes of Humans in mind, but he was somehow managing to push this bike beyond that safe speed. She was going to point out to him that dying was not on her agenda for the day, but considering how many times he'd saved her hide over the course of their vacation, she really didn't have a right to complain.
It was odd holding him now. After so many days of avoiding any sort of contact with him for his own comfort's sake, it was a foreign notion to think that she could wrap her arms around him like this. Of course it was solely for the purpose of not dying, and she was fairly certain he knew that as well, but it was still weird. She felt his back rise and fall slightly as he breathed slowly, and she couldn't help but cling a little closer simply for the sake of warmth and protection against the harsh wind.
Eventually the bike began to slow down, and they stopped. The view hadn't changed much; they were still surrounded by trees on all sides, and dead brown leaves were beneath them, mixed in with orange, red, and yellow leaves that had fallen recently. There were still enough leaves in the trees to block out most of the clear blue sky, and whenever the wind blew it rained autumnal colors. The forest was beautiful.
Vader stood, pulling away from Padmé's hold (which honestly she'd forgotten she'd been clinging to him at this point). He removed the navigation chip and put it in a holoprojector, studying the image. Padmé stood, rubbing her arms a little both in an attempt to warm herself and to ease the soreness from holding him so firmly.
"How far are we from the meet?" she asked.
"Ten minute walk." Vader answered, turning off the projector. "Two minutes to get there and approximately eight minutes to reach the bottom of the canyon."
"Oh, lovely, we get to climb down," Padmé muttered. Pushing her annoyance aside, she walked towards him. "Do you suspect an ambush?"
Vader raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"
"I… figure there might be trouble." Padmé sighed. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to hope for the best and try to find a peaceful resolution."
"Peace is a lie." Vader immediately said. "You'll never find a peaceful resolution."
Padmé felt her ire rise again. "You have no faith in anyone, do you? People aren't all evil, you know. Peace can be attained; it just takes work."
"Life is a struggle for dominance." Vader replied as he began to walk.
Padmé sighed heavily. "Your parents have serious issues if that's what they taught you."
"You think it to be false?"
"Of course it's false."
"Then why do the Rebels exist? Why are these slaves rebelling? Why is there any conflict?"
Padmé shook her head, walking alongside him. "People are flawed, milord. They have anger, greed, lust, envy, pride… those are what cause conflict. It's not always a struggle for dominance."
"You're blinding yourself," Vader said. "All of those emotions do lead to dominance or the desire for it. Greed is another way of saying you want to have more than others. Lust is saying you want to own others. Envy means your greed is not being satisfied; someone has more than you, they have something you want. Pride is the same as greed, except it's a desire or a belief of superiority in all ways, not just in possessions."
"And anger?" Padmé questioned.
Vader was silent.
"For someone who understands emotions so well, you don't show them." Padmé noted. "When we were back on Naboo you denied ever feeling anything. How could you know of any of this stuff if you haven't felt it?"
It wasn't as if he'd never felt the emotions; he was Human like her. Still, she wanted him to say that. His lack of anything always bothered her more than anything else, even his poisonous words about peace and love. Those words felt repeated, forced; his lack of emotion felt like something else, though she couldn't put her finger on what it was.
"Observations are sufficient."
Padmé sighed heavily. "You're saying you've never felt anything like that? Why can't you explain anger?"
Vader bit his lip, looking at his feet as he walked. Another breeze blew, and leaves rained down all around them. "Anger is… a response to some sort of denial, I suppose."
"What makes you say that?" Padmé asked.
"I've seen it in the military. Officers grow angry when they're denied a victory, when something goes wrong. It serves them well; it's a good fuel, a good motivator."
"Let me guess," Padmé stated. "You've never felt anger?"
Vader immediately paused, looking more uncertain than ever. "I… I've never been denied anything. I don't understand why he… I don't…"
Padmé watched him, confused and very curious at the same time. What was he talking about? She'd obviously stumbled into a deeper problem here. "Who's he?"
Vader's eyes locked with hers, and then he began to walk once more. "No one. We should start focusing on the task at hand; the enemy might be nearby."
Padmé didn't argue that he was changing the subject, though she did want to get one final word in. "It's not dominance, you know. It's selfishness. That's what drives most of the horrors of this universe. It's not that people want to show their superiority over others; it's simply that people don't care about others."
Vader said nothing, though whether it was because he was considering her words, ignoring them, or focusing on the mission was beyond her. In either case, she at least felt better having said it. Now she focused on the task at hand as well. Though she did have to amend his words… "They're not the enemy, you know. They were former slaves; you can't blame them for wanting to get out of here, even if I don't condone the actions they took."
"They are the enemy."
Padmé sighed. "Not everything is black and white, milord. Absolutes mostly apply to actions, not people. There's a lot of grey area in the galaxy, in beings. People aren't born good or evil, you know. Everyone has good and bad elements to them… even you and me."
Vader looked at her, pausing. "It doesn't matter if they were born good or evil. It doesn't even matter that they were or still are slaves. They attacked Imperials. They took a hostage. They're the enemy now. You cannot negotiate with them."
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do." Padmé said firmly. "If I can resolve this peacefully, I will."
Vader shook his head and resumed his walk. The two trekked in silence until they reached the canyon. It tore into the mountain and the valley below, though thankfully it didn't go too deep. Roots and fallen trees stuck out of the sides like splinters, and sharp sheared rocks were everywhere.
"How do you propose we get down there?" Padmé asked.
Vader held up a hand, searching the canyon. Padmé grew silent and followed his gaze. She didn't see anything, but that didn't necessarily mean nothing was wrong; she'd figured out by this point that Vader's Force abilities allowed him to sense people nearby. She allowed him to slowly prowl along the perimeter of the canyon. She reached her hand to her side where her blaster pistol was holstered; again, she wanted to resolve this peacefully, but she wasn't so naïve as to not expect some underhanded tactics. These were desperate people they were dealing with, after all. She wanted to help them, though; she'd happily give them the money if it meant they'd have a chance to get off the colony and go somewhere where they could live in peace without hurting anyone else or being enslaved once more. She just hoped Rekk was alright.
Darth Vader carefully began to climb down some rocks. Padmé followed him. She watched her steps, but occasionally she would slip, letting out a small gasp before regaining her footing. Vader was far ahead, constantly searching the scenery with every step he took. Both were silent until they were almost at the bottom.
"They have one scout to the north, but we're not in his line of sight yet," Vader whispered, crouching low. "We'll wait here until nine. Then you walk ahead and do whatever you please. I'll handle the rest."
"You're not handling anything until I say so," Padmé whispered harshly; she had to make sure he wasn't going to kill anyone. "Whether you call them the enemy or not, I invited you into this operation; this is my mission. I'm in charge."
Surely he could at least understand military logic. His mouth formed a tight, thin line, and his jaw clenched; judging from his expression, he understood her meaning, but he didn't like it.
"Angry yet?" she asked with a half-smile.
Vader shook his head. "I've no reason to be. You're simply being illogical."
"I'm not the one with mood swings and major emotional issues," Padmé muttered, gazing out at the scenery once more. Vader either didn't hear her or, more likely, didn't bother replying.
The two sat there in silence for what seemed an eternity. Padmé continued to reference her chronometer and then she would go over the scenario once more in her mind. She hoped and prayed that the slaves wouldn't try anything; Vader seemed to be acquiescent for now after her argument, but she wasn't sure how long that would last.
After referencing her chronometer for what seemed the millionth time, Padmé realized it was five minutes to nine. She glanced at Vader, who had been motionless ever since his last statement. His eyes were alert and sharp, and he seemed to disappear into the shadows. Padmé felt a shiver run down her spine; this was the killer people were used to seeing. After dealing with him under different circumstances for so long she'd almost forgotten that this was his typical routine. He looked terrifying, foreboding, and threatening… and she knew he was quite capable of turning all of that on her.
But would he? She'd like to think they'd at least established some sort of decent rapport between each other by now.
Padmé shook her head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about this. She had to step out into the open and start talking.
Standing, Padmé took a deep breath and entered the sunlight. There was a large group of people waiting there. They were dressed similarly, in dirty and torn up clothes with slave collars around their necks, some chipped, others half broken, but all deactivated. They were armed to the teeth; it looked like they had stolen as much Imperial arsenal as they could get their hands on. Rekk was there, too; he stood in the center of the group, his hands bound. He looked a little rough, with some bruises and cuts on his face, but he was at least relatively in one piece. He smiled when he noticed Padmé.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said in a shaky voice. Padmé felt so sorry for him; Rekk had learned to deal with discrimination and hatred from Imperials, but he'd never been in a situation like this. He was terrified, though he was trying his best to hide it. Honestly, Padmé was pretty nervous, too; this was her first hostage situation, after all. She'd dealt with thugs and life threatening situations, but never with an innocent life in the balance.
Padmé did her best to give Rekk a reassuring smile. "I get around." Then she looked at the man who was apparently the leader; he stood in front of everyone else and was the most heavily armed. Holding up the data chip for him to see, she said, "I have your money."
"Hand it over." The man demanded, holding out his hand.
Padmé tensed. This had to be an even and simultaneous exchange. "Bring Rekk over here."
"You're not getting him until I have that money in my hands." The man replied harshly, grabbing his blaster with both hands.
"Just bring Rekk forward." Padmé said. "I'll give you the money at the same time. Okay?"
The man looked disagreeable, but he grabbed Rekk roughly by the arm and shoved him forward. Rekk stumbled and fell flat on his face with a grunt. Padmé walked towards him, keeping her eyes on the leader. "What are you going to do with this money?"
"That's none of your karking business, woman." The man answered.
Padmé ignored the vulgar language. "I understand why you're angry; I wouldn't want to remain a slave either if I had the chance."
"Don't you dare assume you know how we feel!" the leader yelled, cocking his blaster. "You karking bloodsuckers lounge in the senate, and we're nothing more than your property!"
"You think I agree with slavery?" Padmé suddenly snapped before calming herself quickly; the last thing she needed to do was make this escalate. "If I were to go against the Empire about this, I would be executed or enslaved myself. I do what I can… like what I'm doing now. I'm giving you the money. Take it and use it to get out of here, away from Imperial forces, away from everything."
"You don't know anything!" the leader rebutted, somehow growing even more enraged despite Padmé's appeasing words. Padmé began to grow even more nervous; this man wasn't listening to reason, and it was never a good combination to have an irrational person holding a weapon.
"I'm giving you the money," Padmé tried again, holding out the data chip, but the leader was too enraged now.
"You know how long we were stuck here? While you sat in your precious senate building? We've been here for years while—"
A red light suddenly emitted and pierced through the leader's chest, making everyone jump. Some of the slaves screamed. Padmé recognized it as Vader's blade; she didn't have time to think, so she immediately dropped to the ground and shoved Rekk, who had been attempting to stand up, back to the ground as well.
Chaos erupted. Slaves fired in random directions, trying to figure out what in the blazes was going on. Some were panicked, some were angry, but most were too inexperienced with blasters to even know where to start firing. Padmé took the opportunity to drag Rekk out of harm's way, but her movement caught their attention, and they began to fire on her as well. Immediately pulling out her pistol, she fired three times, managing to hit the shoulder of one slave and spooking another by hitting around his feet. Thankfully some cover was close by, and she and Rekk managed to dive behind some rocks shortly before more blaster fire erupted near them.
"What was that?" Rekk gasped as he ducked behind the rocks.
"Stay here," Padmé ordered, crawling closer to the action once more. She peeked over a rock and aimed at the nearest slave, firing. She missed initially, but she got him in the arm on the next shot. Her goal was to incapacitate these people rather than kill them, and the sooner she did that the sooner Vader would stop attacking. She didn't have much time, though; the Sith Lord had already dispensed with almost half the group.
Swearing under her breath, Padmé aimed for another slave and got her in the leg, making her collapse. Just as she was about to aim at another slave, her new target began to grasp his neck feebly, emitting choking sounds. By now there were only about four or five slaves left, three of whom were injured by Padmé. Watching in horror, Padmé looked desperately for Vader, trying to stop him. A loud crack was heard, and the slave fell to the ground, limp. Padmé felt sick.
Standing, she yelled, "Stop it!"
The three remaining slaves were all on the ground, cringing, sobbing, or pleading… or all three. Padmé rushed over to them, kicking the blasters away from them, and then she holstered her own weapon. She heard the sound of someone jumping and landing, and she turned her head wildly to find the source. Eventually she caught sight of Darth Vader.
"I told you to not attack them!" she shouted at him, enraged.
Vader placed his lightsaber hilt, which was already deactivated, back onto his belt. "You couldn't talk any reason to that man."
"Did that merit an attack on all of them?" she snapped.
"They would have killed you if that idiot had ordered them to." Vader replied calmly. His unshakable resolve was beginning to really grate on Padmé's nerves… and terrify her. Even Siri, the fiercest fighter of the Naberrie clan, typically showed some sort of distaste or reaction after killing someone. Siri loved to fight, but she didn't like to kill. Vader, though… he didn't like to kill either, but… blast it all it just bothered her that nothing affected him.
Nevertheless, despite how horribly things had gone, Vader was correct: the other slaves would have opened fire if ordered. Honestly, what struck her now was the fact that Vader actually listened; he stopped when she told him to. She supposed she should at least acknowledge that.
"Thank you for stopping," she remarked quietly before quickly looking away. Despite her gratitude, she was still angry at him and didn't want to forgive him for his actions just yet. Yes, the leader was getting irrational, but she might have been able to diffuse the situation. They'd never know that now.
"We should eliminate the remainder at the secondary and tertiary colonies." Vader said, turning to leave. "Do what you will with these survivors."
"No, you're not killing any more people!" Padmé ran to stand in his way. "Just let me deal with this!"
"Just like you dealt with the leader?"
Padmé was tempted to smack him. "You have no idea how that conversation would have ended if you hadn't interrupted it!"
"P-please…" Rekk stammered from behind the rocks. "He was g-going to kill you, Padmé… just listen to the guy…"
Padmé sighed heavily, closing her eyes. This was a nightmare. "Just… let me deal with the remaining slaves, okay? Can you do that for me?"
"What do you propose?" Vader asked, crossing his arms and watching her intently.
"I'm going to tell them the truth," Padmé replied. "I'm going to say their leader is dead, and if they fight, there will be a very eager killer waiting to slice them to pieces. Not much else I can do at this point. But, if they surrender, you're not to lay a finger on them."
"They'll be processed as is protocol."
"They'll be executed, you mean," Padmé snapped. "No. They're under my protection. They're going with the other refugees. That's the deal."
"You have no legal authority to do so," Vader reminded her.
"I… I do." Rekk timidly said as he shakily got to his feet. "These slaves are property of the colony, which I represent. Seeing as m-most of the citizens are d-dead… then the ownership falls to me."
Padmé gave Rekk a look of gratitude. Despite his terror he was still trying to do the right thing, even though these people had held him hostage.
"Very well," Vader acknowledged. "But only if they surrender."
"W-we'll surrender!" one of the slaves immediately said. "We'll tell the others; I promise, we'll all surrender!"
Padmé understood their fear, but even she was suspicious of such an offer. "I should go with you."
"Let them go," Vader shook his head and the eyed the slaves. "If you're not at the primary colony surrendering by noon I'll blow your strongholds up with my shuttle."
The slaves nodded fervently and limped away as quickly as possible. Padmé sighed again. Vader held out the map chip to her. "Take the representative back to the colony. I'll follow."
Padmé grabbed the chip wordlessly and walked back to Rekk, helping him to the edge of the canyon. The two climbed silently until they reached the top. Padmé did her best to find the swoop bike where they had left it; it was rather easy to get lost in this forest. Eventually they discovered it and she climbed on, letting Rekk sit behind her.
"Thank you," he whispered as he sat. "I wasn't sure if anyone would bother coming."
"I'll always come," Padmé replied.
"Who's your… uh, helper?"
Padmé chuckled at his term. "You didn't know him?"
"I've never seen the weapon he uses, but I figured maybe he was a mercenary?"
Padmé looked around, but Vader was nowhere in sight. "No. He's an Imperial. That's basically all you need to know."
"Well…" Rekk sighed, holding on to Padmé as she started the engine. "I know things didn't end well, but he did save both our lives. That slave was completely insane, Padmé. He wanted to kill everybody, even the relief workers."
"What he wanted was justice and freedom," Padmé said sadly. "He just went about it the wrong way."
"I wouldn't call that justice," Rekk shook his head. "Sounded more like revenge to me."
Padmé said nothing. She couldn't argue the point, honestly. She'd just been optimistic. There was no sense in lying to herself anymore; she still wasn't sure if she would have been able to diffuse the situation or not, but she still would have preferred to try rather than assume the leader was going to fire. That might have gotten her killed, though. She wasn't sure. She didn't know anymore.
Turning the swoop bike around, Padmé flew it back towards the primary colony… at a very slow pace after realizing that it bucked quite a bit, as Vader had previously mentioned.
Tarkin sat in his quarters, poring over new information from Intelligence. He'd made his report to Palpatine yesterday, who had received it with curiosity, but not really concern. Apparently he was under the impression that it would soon be rectified. Tarkin was of a similar disposition, but he was still a little nervous; he didn't want to wait a week for Vader to return. The Jedi could do too much damage in that time. Besides, they still barely knew anything about the guy. Intelligence was searching the archives to find an ID that matched their new nemesis.
Gazing at his holoprojector on his desk, Tarkin debated whether he should shorten Vader's time on Naboo. Obviously he couldn't give Vader false orders; he'd still have to admit that Palpatine hadn't changed the parameters of the mission. But blast it, it had been a week; surely Vader had been able to establish a rapport of some sort by now.
Oh, who he was he kidding? Vader didn't even know what it meant for someone to like someone else. How in the blazes could he actually accomplish it? Tarkin would get no help from Vader; if they were both lucky Vader would barely scrape by with his mission, enough to gain Palpatine's approval and kill off Amidala.
Back to the matter of the Jedi, though, there was no way Tarkin could wait a week to act. He'd already sent three fleets to search the area and eliminate the threat.
Tarkin's comlink chimed, and he activated it. "This is Grand Moff Tarkin."
"Governor, we've just found a match for the Jedi. Rahm Kota. He was a general back in the war. Didn't approve of clones, so he assembled his own militia; apparently they stuck by him all these years."
Rahm Kota? Tarkin didn't recall the name. Not that that mattered, but at least it meant he hadn't been in any of the larger battles of the war, so maybe he was inexperienced. Tarkin doubted it, though. He was grasping at tenuous bits of hope that were not helpful in the slightest at this point. "Anything else you can tell me at the moment?"
"No, sir. We've heard nothing from the fleets, either; they haven't made contact yet."
So it was a waiting game, then. "Very well. Inform me the moment you hear something."
"Yes, governor."
Tarkin deactivated his comlink and sighed, looking outside at the dull morning. He typically didn't mind waiting, but he preferred having more information. He supposed he'd have to settle for what little he had. In the meantime, he could attempt to stop worrying at the New Year's party tonight.
Suddenly, his comlink chimed again just as he grabbed some caffa. When he answered it, though, it wasn't Intelligence. "Governor Tarkin, I bid you a pleasant morning. My name is Khopak, with the Galactic United Bank. As you know, the security of your accounts are our highest priority, and I just wanted to ensure that your most recent expenditures were sanctioned by you."
Tarkin stared at the comlink, completely baffled. After everything that had been going on lately, this was the last call he'd been expecting. Sipping his drink, he said, "Go on."
"We have on file that you spent 10,178 credits in Oxon City between the local time hours of one and four in the morning."
Tarkin nearly spat out the caffa. "How much?!"
"10,178 Imperial credits, governor. So you didn't spend this?"
Who the blazes would spend that much money with his account? How did they get his account? And why were they buying stuff at such ridiculous hours in the morning? What in the blazes could they have bought that cost so much?!
Wait.
"What was purchased?" Tarkin asked.
"Emergency medical packs, packaged meals, tool kits, camping packs, and a container of ice cream, governor."
"Chocolate?"
"Yes, governor."
Vader.
Sighing heavily, Tarkin said, "It's fine, thank you. I'd forgotten about those items."
"Okay, governor. I just wanted to be sure; is there anything else I can do for you today?"
Find that idiot Sith and beat him over the head for me. "No, thank you."
"Very well, governor. I bid you a good day."
Tarkin cut the connection. What in the blazes was that man up to, anyway? Oh, well; it didn't matter. He was going to go out for some breakfast, but after his new expenditures he figured it would be prudent to eat breakfast in the palace. Grumbling, Tarkin exited his quarters.