Happy Advent! :D
First, I want to thank you all so much for your reviews; they always bring a smile to my face and I'm really happy you're enjoying the story. Sorry I can't reply to everyone individually; I've been pretty busy. Anyways, I hope you like the update! :)
Tarkin slammed his palm on his desk. "Shavit!"
This wasn't his day. Intelligence had just informed him that not only had Gen. Kota pushed back the Imperial offensive, but he'd gotten reinforcements from a brand new fleet that had been completely unknown up to this point. He thought he could nip the problem in the bud, but this problem was already out of control; it had become out of control long before he'd known of it. This had to stop.
He needed more resources. He needed more Intelligence, more information. As the temporary head of the military he had access to everything the Empire had to offer, but at the moment the blasted Empire wasn't offering anything that could help him.
Well, almost.
Grabbing his comlink, Tarkin was about to key in the frequency for Darth Vader when he suddenly noticed that Vader was actually calling him. Right on time.
Activating the link, Tarkin patched it through to his holoprojector on his desk. He immediately opened his mouth to tell Vader the situation and order him to return, emperor be damned, when he froze.
Something was wrong. Vader fidgeted restlessly, unable to stand still. His hands were fiddling with his tunic. His usually cold and neutral expression had morphed into one of uncertainty and anxiety. He looked at everything except Tarkin.
"What's the matter?" Tarkin asked.
"I…" Vader tried replying, but his voice faded away. He still wouldn't make eye contact. "I need advice."
For the love of the Force, did this have to do with Palpatine's idiotic notion of making Vader emotionally manipulate Amidala? This was the last thing Tarkin cared about right now. Still, if it had Vader this upset, he probably should at least hear the young Sith out. "Get on with it, then."
"I may have broken the senator's trust," Vader quickly explained. "I don't… she… I only have four days to get the information, and—I've been laying the groundwork, but—we—she—things—Master—"
As Vader continued to put words together incoherently between gasps of air, Tarkin grew slightly more unsettled. He eventually interrupted the young man with a hand; he didn't think it would get this bad, but he recognized the distress he saw. He hadn't seen it in Vader for years—maybe even almost a decade—but he knew it well enough. If there was one thing in the universe that could rattle Darth Vader, it was the idea that he could fail an assignment. He hadn't botched up anything in such a long time Tarkin had almost forgotten his reaction… but honestly, he'd also been expecting this. Hadn't he been thinking it would happen before Vader ever left for Naboo?
Of course, he'd also been thinking how he'd handle the situation as well. Naturally Vader would be extremely upset, but Tarkin would guide him. He always did. He was assigned to the man a very long time ago to look after him, and while he hadn't originally been happy with babysitting, he'd taken to handling the young Sith. Besides, this was a perfect opportunity. Imagine what would happen if Vader failed; Palpatine would be furious, but Tarkin would convince him to allow Vader to live; he'd say that he'd teach the boy, and as he did so, the two would grow closer. Vader would need Tarkin's advice, he'd trust his advice, he'd depend on it… and once Tarkin disposed of Palpatine, Vader's loyalty would be unquestionable.
"What information do you have so far?" he asked.
"We didn't miss anyone on Naboo," Vader answered, trying to get his bearings. Having Tarkin interrogate him seemed to help him regain his calm. "All the Rebels are dead. The handmaiden we killed had no ties to the Alliance, either, so it must be one of the other two."
"One of the other two?" Tarkin repeated.
Vader took another calming breath. "The senator must be obtaining and relaying information somehow. She's a public figure and watched by the Empire; while she may be in charge of Rebel operations on Imperial Center, she can't do all the dirty work. I'm assuming someone who comes in contact with her often would be an operative. Most likely it would be someone nobody pays attention to, someone who's supposed to be with her. That would make a handmaiden the appropriate contact. Since we needed to eliminate one anyway I figured I might be able to handle both problems, but I miscalculated. It wasn't the right woman."
"Do you know which one it is, then?"
Vader shook his head, and then he began to speak once more. "Governor, I—what do I do? How do I—I mean, she—I should have never said—"
He immediately grew silent and shook his head, looking away. Tarkin took a steadying breath; he had to choose his words carefully. He needed to reassure and advise Vader without giving him too much help; he wanted the boy to fail, after all. What were a few injuries from the emperor if the reward down the road was having the boy fully under his control? "Milord, it's fine. Just keep trying. Don't change your approach. Try to be amicable with her."
Vader didn't seem very reassured. "It's not fine; I need results."
"You have plenty of time for that," Tarkin replied. "Just be sure you don't mess things up again. How did you break her trust?"
Suddenly the Sith was reticent. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked at the floor. Growing curious, Tarkin prodded him. "Did you attack her?"
Vader shook his head. "It… I'll sort it out."
Tarkin nodded, crossing his arms. He could survive without the Sith's help for four days. Hopefully the issue with the Jedi wouldn't cause too much of a problem until then. Once Vader returned, Tarkin would have to play his cards just right, both so Vader wouldn't die at the emperor's hand and so he could convince Palpatine to let Vader be under his control so he could properly learn how to accomplish whatever assignment the emperor gave him.
And so he could finally be rid of those blasted Rebels. He'd start with Mothma.
"Then do so," he acknowledged the Sith, who bowed and cut the transmission.
Tarkin had a lot of planning to do.
I'm not a person.
I'm a means to an end.
I will live, breathe, work, fight, and die for him.
Padmé couldn't sit still. She walked across the guest quarters, paused, and then would think of something else he'd said and start moving nervously around the room once more. Her fingers twitched, her heart raced, and her breath came in short gasps. This explained so much. Darth Vader thought he was a tool, a droid, essentially – he had no sense of humanity, no sense of self. It was no wonder he didn't bat an eye at the atrocities he committed.
Even killing Sabé.
Padmé froze and buried her face in her hands, moaning. Hearing him say those words… now that she was going over the conversation and not in proximity to him, it somehow just automatically turned off any anger in her mind. She'd initially been shocked and enraged over his comments about Sabé, but the more she thought about it the more sense it made until it just rang in her mind like a clear bell. She couldn't argue the point anymore; he didn't care about anyone or anything because he didn't care about himself.
What the hell kind of upbringing did that guy have?
Of course, what frightened Padmé was his sudden interest in her. And not the previous I'm your killer interest, but a genuine one – the kind of interest she'd been trying to generate initially.
Padmé swore harshly. What the hell was wrong with her?! What had she been thinking?!
What had she gotten herself into?!
Moaning, she finally just collapsed on the bed. She didn't know where to go, who to turn to, she didn't know what to do. She wished Obi-Wan was here; he always offered the best advice.
Calm down. She needed to calm down.
Be with me.
"Oh shavit," she muttered into the blanket, grabbing it in bundles between her fingers. "What is wrong with me?"
Because as much as Vader's desire for her was frightening, there was something even more terrifying.
Her desire to respond.
Her parents had instilled in her a deep sense of compassion for others, and blast it she really wished now of all times that she didn't have it. But as soon as she thought that, she dismissed the thought, growing angry with herself. Darth Vader had done something she was fairly certain he'd never done before—he'd opened up to someone. She shouldn't let him down; she had to help him.
She wanted to help him. And that's what scared her the most.
He couldn't help it, after all. He couldn't help everything he'd done if he thought about himself in such a manner. To him it was just orders, just programming.
Padmé's mind whirled at how anybody could ever be molded into thinking in such a manner.
A soft knock came from the door.
Jumping, Padmé immediately shot to her feet. Her nerves sent electricity surging to every corner of her body, and she couldn't catch her breath. She stood still as a stone, suddenly frozen in place in contrast to her earlier restlessness. Shaking her head violently, Padmé put her face in her hands and took a deep breath. She had to deal with this. Vader needed her.
Darth Vader needed her… just hearing that in her mind made her think she was crazy.
Another knock came, slightly louder.
Taking another calming breath, Padmé stood straight and faced the door. "Come in."
The door opened with a soft hiss, and Darth Vader stood before her. At first glance he looked his usual neutral self, but upon closer inspection Padmé could pick up on the subtle differences. His left hand twitched slightly, playing with his tunic. He blinked too much. His skin was slightly paler than normal.
Vader took a deep breath and stepped forward, but he stood in the doorway rather than inside the room. "I… you… it would be best for both of us if you simply forgot what I said earlier."
Forget about it? What? After he'd nearly given her a heart attack and poured his soul out to her, he just wanted her to pretend it had never happened? Was he joking right now?
Of course he wasn't. He either didn't understand the emotional impact his words had had on her… or he was wrestling with his own emotions on the subject.
Watching him standing there, looking steadily more uncomfortable, steadily more worried, Padmé finally found her calm. This man needed a miracle, a protector, a guide. This man needed her. She could help him; she would help him. She'd show him that he was a person, that he was worth the time of day, the attention, the love, the concern. Maybe she could even convince him to help the Alliance instead of the Empire… but that would be far, far down the road. First things first. "Milord, I can't do that."
Vader paled a little more, and his jaw tightened. He took a small step towards her, and his eyes seemed to harden as if he were coming to some sort of resolution.
Padmé took a deep breath. "You wanted me to be with you. So I will. I'll be with you, Lord Vader. I'll help you."
Vader froze. He apparently hadn't been expecting that reply. His mouth opened slightly and then closed again. His eyes widened, and the coloring in his face finally returned. And then, all of a sudden, the corners of his mouth turned slightly into the smallest but most genuine smile Padmé had ever seen. He took three large steps towards her, suddenly full of energy, and stopped just in front of her. "You—you will? This—okay, we need—you—I—we can—"
His energy surged through Padmé despite the distance between the two of them, and she mirrored his smile to a much larger degree. She'd never seen him light up like this; his eyes were glowing – they were suddenly so expressive.
And then, something seemed to click in his mind, and he immediately sobered. He blew out a breath and shook his head, closing his eyes and growing still, and then he looked at her. "We… have a lot of work to do."
Padmé felt her heart ache. He'd been so alive before. What had changed? "What happened?"
Vader furrowed his brow, confused.
"You were so animated," Padmé noted with a smile. "Why'd you stop?"
"I wasn't being rational. And I wasn't saying anything useful, anyway."
Padmé sighed heavily and she took a step towards him. He immediately knew what was coming as she reached an arm out to place her hand on his shoulder, and he took a small step back.
Okay, she had to set some things straight immediately. "Milord, you're right. We do have a lot of work to do. If we're going to work together, I have some ground rules."
"Master's rules are the ground rules." Vader immediately responded. "Not yours."
"Who's Master?" Padmé asked, suspecting who it might be but not entirely sure.
"The emperor."
Of course. "Does he make you call him that?"
"It's a form of respect."
"So is calling him Your Imperial Majesty," Padmé pointed out, feeling sick. That sadistic son of a Hutt made Vader call him Master as if he were his slave?
"He's my Master."
"You're not his slave, you know."
"I know that," Vader replied, catching Padmé off guard. "But he's my Master."
Oh Force. He didn't… no… did he…? "You… you don't think you're below a slave, do you?"
Vader shrugged, unperturbed. "A slave is a person. I already said I'm not. It's not a matter of being above or below someone else. The only person who is supreme is Master."
Dear heaven he practically worshipped the guy. Padmé had her work cut out for her. "Well, in either case, I still have ground rules."
"Only Master's rules matter." Vader repeated.
"I don't think these will really interfere with his rules," Padmé said carefully; she knew better than to try and rip him from his comfort zone. "They're simple, I promise."
Vader looked skeptical, but he remained silent.
"First, call me Padmé," she began. "You have to understand that if we're going to be working together, our relationship isn't quite as formal anymore." She paused for a moment before immediately blushing and adding, "B-but that doesn't mean it's, you know, intimate or anything either. It's still business."
Why was she even stuttering about this? Vader obviously didn't catch the meaning of her remark anyway; he simply continued to gaze at her in the same expectant manner. Shaking her head, she continued. "Secondly, you have to stop being nervous around me. I'm not going to give you a disease by touching you. I know you were raised on Imperial Center and the culture there is different, but even within that culture you can touch someone you're familiar with. Aren't we familiar with each other by now?"
"Is this relating back to your weird hand holding thing?" Vader asked, eying her suspiciously.
Padmé laughed at his behavior. "It's not weird, you shaak."
Vader looked like he begged to differ, but he didn't express his opinion on the matter. "Very well, your ground rules can stand for now. But now you have to stand by Master's."
Padmé felt her stomach churn. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear these ground rules.
"Never show weakness." Vader started. "You are a servant of the emperor. You will never tire, you will never fail, and you will never show weakness. If Master tells you something, you do it immediately. Never argue. His will is supreme."
Padmé was very tempted to argue with him about that, but she again reminded herself to not push him too much. She'd learned that he was too stubborn to force into anything; she had to convince him, not just tell him things (even if they were true). So she just nodded. She wouldn't verbally acknowledged the commands; she didn't think she could stomach it. Listening to him speak, though, as if it were his creed, made her feel even more sorry for him. These words were his life, his reason for breathing. These words were poison.
"Well, now that that's settled," Vader immediately continued, sounding more chipper than she'd ever heard him. "Let's sort out what we're going to do upon our arrival. Varykino is a suitable spot for training, so we'll return there. It'll be dark, so we can start with nighttime skills. Have you ever been in combat at night? Do you know how to track?"
Padmé was certain she should be feeling even sorrier for him; his immediate thought was to prepare her for her new job. But honestly, all she could do was laugh, albeit sadly; he was like an excitable child all of a sudden. "I don't know, it's been a long day. We should rest."
"Master's servants never tire." Vader shook his head. "That's a ground rule, remember?"
"But we also never show weakness, right?" Padmé rebutted. "Wouldn't we be showing weakness if our exhaustion got the best of us?"
Vader paused, considering her words. Crossing his arms, he said, "That would be true under typical circumstances, but since no one else will be around to witness it, it won't be a problem."
Blast it, she'd hoped for some time to get her thoughts together before Vader got everything rolling. She supposed she wouldn't have that. "Can we talk while we train?"
"Talking is unnecessary."
"What if you need to teach me something?"
"Then I will speak." Vader answered, eying her in a manner she couldn't quite pinpoint. "It's not like you can use the Force."
Both were silent for a moment. Vader looked lost in thought. Padmé wasn't sure what to say or do at this point. She needed to make sure she wasn't led around blindly; she was doing this to help him, not the Empire. She had to maintain the upper hand somehow.
Blast, she had a feeling this would be even more exhausting than her previous objective. But it was definitely worth it.
"You'll need some new weapons," Vader muttered, his eyes clouded.
Padmé raised an eyebrow, a little nervous. "What's wrong with my blaster?"
"Nothing," Vader shook his head. "But you'll need more. You have to be ready for anything. Blasters are useless in close combat unless you want to use them as blunt weapons, but they're not very versatile. You need to learn close ranged combat."
"I learned a little hand to hand combat when I was preparing to become queen," Padmé admitted honestly.
Vader looked impressed. "How much?"
Padmé sighed, trying to extract the vague memories from her mind. "Enough to ensure I didn't get myself killed for a little while, at least."
"A servant of Master never fails." Vader shook his head again. "I'll teach you how to win."
They were quiet once more and then Vader suddenly snapped his fingers. "A shoto!"
Padmé immediately became confused. "A what?"
"You need a shoto," Vader explained. "A lightsaber wouldn't suit you; you don't have the perception to block blaster fire with it, and the only time you would clash blades would be with a Force user. A shoto would be perfect, though; it's made like a lightsaber, but it's shorter, like a dagger rather than a sword. You could cut through anyone."
A wave of nausea overcame her. "Do all your missions end in someone dying?"
Vader pondered her question for a moment and then shrugged. Then he sobered all of a sudden. "We still have ten minutes before we exit hyperspace. Now we can talk."
Padmé brightened immediately, but before she could say anything, Vader said, "Tell me everything you know about the Rebels."
For the second time that day, Padmé's blood ran cold. For a fleeting moment she wished this day would just end before her nerves finally came apart, but then she immediately felt panic set in. What would she say? She didn't want to lie to him outright, but she sure as hell wasn't going to give up any information that could hurt the Alliance. She'd settle for known information. "I… I know… their base… Dantooine. They're on Dantooine."
She hastily looked away, both pretending to be ashamed that she'd admitted something and nervous to look him in the eye. Her political façade did little against him, and she felt exposed.
Vader's response was immediate. "The Rebel base is on Yavin 4. Tell me something I don't know."
Padmé's gaze snapped back to the man. He… he knew?! The Empire knew?! No, no, no… this couldn't be happening… this couldn't…
Wait. If the Empire had destroyed the Rebel base on Yavin 4, they'd have annihilated the Alliance. Vader wouldn't have any reason to question her.
They got away.
She began to breathe again, and she shook her head. "I don't know anything else. I just joined the Alliance. That's all they told me."
"Who's your contact?"
"Someone named Kuna." Padmé replied carefully, her knees trembling. She recalled that Vader had brought up the late Rodian back on Imperial Center, so it was no secret that they'd been in contact. Vader looked unconvinced. His eyes were narrow, and his body was tense. Before he could ask anything else, Padmé suggested, "How about we plan the training schedule for tonight?"
Vader suddenly looked uncertain. He gazed elsewhere, debating her words. To add to her argument, she reminded him, "You did say we have a lot of work to do."
"You said you'd be with me. You'd train with me. You'd serve Master with me." Vader noted as he looked at her once more, and his tone held a bite to it. "You're not keeping your word."
Padmé swallowed and held to her resolve. "What do you mean?"
"You're lying."
She took another steadying breath. She was a politician. She could handle her own against him in a verbal battle. She had to. And the first rule of any political debate is deflection. "I don't know what you mean. You did say we had a lot of work to do."
"I meant about—"
"Milord, do you trust me?" Padmé interrupted, her heart rate increasing slightly with nervousness.
Vader gave her a befuddled look, not expecting the question. Then he shook his head.
She grew confused and concerned at once. He'd seemed very open and honest with her, he'd confided in her; why didn't he trust her? She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised; despite the fact that his emotional stability was nonexistent, he was nevertheless very intelligent and wouldn't easily trust anyone. "Why not? Aren't we supposed to be working together? Didn't you want me to work with you, to be with you?"
"Do you trust me?" he rebutted unexpectedly.
Padmé paused, considering her options. If she said yes outright, she might win him over, but she suspected he'd sense her lie. If she said no, it would give him an excuse to not trust her in return. "I will if you trust me. That is what makes a partnership."
Vader remained silent, taking a small step from her. Blast it all, how did this situation turn from a somewhat normal conversation to an interrogation? She really needed to figure out how to deal with his mood swings. Well, she did know how to make him uncomfortable, at least… stepping towards him, she put a hand on his arm and gave it a slight squeeze as a reassurance and encouragement. He tensed immediately, his gaze moving from her hand to her face.
"Why are you so uncomfortable with touch?" she asked sincerely. "Your parents have a lot to answer for; they never took you on vacations, never held your hand… let me guess, they never hugged you either?"
"There's no purpose to a hug."
"Who were your parents?" Padmé asked abruptly. Vader had said he didn't have a family, so she assumed they were dead by now; at least they'd better be – she didn't think she could stomach it if she heard they were alive and had willingly let Vader grow into the man he was.
"Imperial officials."
"That's what they were, not who they were." She was insistent. Not only did she truly want to know, but she was also unbelievably relieved that he'd taken the bait and was no longer talking or thinking about the Rebels.
"Who they are is of no importance. It's not pertinent to anything we need."
"So you want me to be your partner on a need-to-know only basis?" Padmé questioned, raising her eyebrows in a challenge.
"My parents are not a part of any mission or training. Therefore they're unimportant."
"You said you were created to be Sith," Padmé pressed onward, taking a step towards him. "Did your parents have anything to do with that? What did you mean when you said that?"
"You have to understand something, senator—"
"Padmé," she reminded him, finally at ease now that she had the high ground.
Vader continued, unperturbed. "Our existence is based solely around serving Master. Nothing outside of that matters, including my parentage."
"We can still serve the emperor and enjoy being actual people, you know," Padmé said, once more putting her hand on his arm. "We can have each other, just like you said earlier."
Vader furrowed his brow, but he looked more concerned than irritated. He was stiff to her touch, but he didn't pull away. "But… we… I don't know why I… it doesn't matter… it doesn't matter…"
Padmé felt her heart melt at his timid voice. She took another step towards him, putting her other hand on his other arm in a quasi-hug. "It does matter, milord. You matter." Vader shook his head, but Padmé argued. "Don't deny it. You do matter."
"No," he stepped away from her. "No. I'm a means to an end. I don't matter. Master matters… and so do you."
Padmé felt her nerves tingle. "Me?"
Vader nodded shyly, looking away.
"Why?"
Vader shook his head.
Padmé wasn't sure how to approach this. She wasn't even sure if she should approach it. She was curious to know how she had managed to finally succeed in her original mission; she figured it had to do with being nice to him since she had a sinking suspicion he'd never been treated well. But… surely someone was friendly to him; the probability of him running into a decent person wasn't that low, was it?
Eventually she just decided not to push the issue, though she did have to marvel at how she managed to "catch" him when she had decided to not flirt with him. "Well if I matter, so do you."
Vader looked unconvinced. "My only purpose is to serve."
"Isn't that technically my purpose as well now? What makes me different from you?" Padmé asked.
"You weren't designed for this."
"Yet you want me to help."
"I can mold you into a weapon." Vader explained, and his eyes suddenly burned with such intensity that Padmé felt slightly unsettled. Before she could say anything, he continued. "I'll make arrangements for your training regimen tonight. Rest in the meantime."
With that said, he left the room.
They were all on an adrenaline high. Loud voices rang through the halls and rooms as people cheered and shouted obscenities at their fallen foe. One of the hangars erupted into applause and whoops of delight and triumph as a battered landing craft returned and its passengers filed out.
Kota smiled at the soldiers' excitement. He himself was quite pleased with how the day had turned out. Turning to his Padawan he saw the grim smile of satisfaction spread across the young man's face. Galen was born a year after the Empire had been created; it was actually the boy's birth that had helped snap Kota out of his self pitying alcoholic haze – Kota had stumbled upon the boy's parents when their base of operations was being attacked. There hadn't been much Kota could do for Galen's parents, but he at least saved the baby from the Imperial devastation. As a result, Galen had grown up amongst Kota's militia; he could swear, fight, and drink with the best of them, but he didn't share their cheer. Kota had raised him to be a Jedi warrior, and Galen had taken the task seriously – he'd let out the occasional quip and show a softer side to the men, but he mostly kept to himself and didn't participate in the militia's more exuberant gatherings. Watching him now, Kota figured Galen would probably get a drink or two and retire to his quarters to meditate and relax. He was a fine Jedi. Certainly better than Kota, who was rather well known by this point for getting a little too aggressive in the heat of battle.
Then again, Galen did follow in his Master's footsteps in that regard.
But enough brooding. It was time to finish that drink he'd started several hours ago. Smiling, Kota said, "Come on, boys; let's head back to the mess hall."
The militia agreed with a loud cheer and led the Jedi down the hall. His trek was interrupted, however, when another figure bearing a lightsaber approached him. The man was well built with dark skin and a grim, worn look on his face. Kota offered a nod of acknowledgement and smiled. "Well, well, if it isn't the hero of the hour. Good to see you, Master Windu."
Jedi Master Mace Windu gave a small bow in return. "I'm glad my fleet got here in time. You mind explaining how that battle started?"
"I wouldn't know," Kota replied with a shrug. "I was enjoying the New Year's celebrations when our ship got pulled out of hyperspace. I'm fairly certain they only managed to find us out of sheer luck."
"There's no such thing as luck, Kota," Mace replied, folding his arms with a somewhat irritated look.
Kota waved his hand dismissively. "Well if you want to call it the will of the Force then I'll just have to say the Force has bizarre ways of taking care of its Jedi. Care to join us for a drink?"
"Master Windu," Galen acknowledged, just catching up to Kota. He bowed. "Thank you for your help."
Mace once again nodded in return and then looked back at Kota. "I might join you for a drink, but we have business to discuss."
"Aw, general," one soldier said. "Can't you mix business with pleasure?"
"Did you manage to contact the Alliance?" Galen pressed on, ignoring the side dialogue.
Mace shook his head. "They've gone deep underground. I haven't been able to find them at all. They're out there somewhere; we know the Empire missed them on Yavin 4. I wasn't able to get very far, though, because I received your distress call."
"You sure did respond quickly," Kota noted with a bark of a laugh.
"We were near the sector," Mace replied. "But I have to return to my search. It's best we don't stay too close; we'll attract more attention that way."
"That's the point, isn't it, Master?" Galen asked in almost a growl; he wanted Vader to come as badly as Kota did.
"Be patient," Mace advised before Kota could say anything (not that he really would right now; he was too busy thinking of the matter of the Rebels… and what drink he would be enjoying as soon as this conversation was over). "We will get Darth Vader soon enough. In the meantime, we need to make sure Imperial armadas don't destroy us first. I'm taking my fleet back into the Outer Rim; we can regroup in a week. I have to establish contact with the Alliance, and you lot have to keep the Imperials panicking and guessing about our numbers and intent."
"Yes, Master."
"Great!" Kota clapped his hand on Galen's shoulder. "Now that that's settled, let's get some drinks. I don't know if you'll join us or not, Master Windu, but I'd recommend you do so – Crix is a great bartender!"
Mace offered a small smile, and his tired eyes brightened slightly. "Just one drink, then, Kota."
The rest of the trip to Naboo had been short; they'd arrived barely five minutes after Darth Vader had returned to the cockpit. The two made their way out of the spaceport and through Oxon in silence. The city was decorated with banners and festive holograms, and confetti littered the streets from parties. It was almost midnight local time, so most of the parties were indoors at this point, though Padmé heard loud music and raucous laughter from a nearby cantina. Looking at the surroundings she suddenly felt very disconnected from it; it felt like New Year's was an eternity ago, like she couldn't quite grasp what it meant to have a normal life anymore. It bothered her, but it also made her feel all the more resolute in her decision to help Vader; after all, if she felt disconnected, she couldn't even imagine how he felt.
The two rode in the taxi to the docks, still as silent as before. Padmé couldn't muster up enough energy to start a conversation, and she knew Vader wouldn't want to speak anyway, so she rested while she could. To the taxi driver they'd just seem too exhausted to do much of anything. In reality, Vader was no doubt going through whatever plan he'd concocted for Padmé's training, while Padmé was figuring out how she could keep the upper hand through it all… not to mention how she was supposed to do that while helping Vader.
Honestly the conversation on the ship could have gone much worse, so she supposed she'd take her small victories where she could get them. After all, she'd successfully steered him away from the topic of the Rebel Alliance. She needed to do more than that, though; she had to get to him, not just avoid his questions. She had to convince him he was a person. She had to help him.
The taxi reached its destination and the two exited, grabbing their duffel bags. Padmé reacquired the boat they'd been using and Vader quickly hopped into the driver's seat. Half amused, Padmé sat beside him. She supposed this could be a good place to start. "Why do you like driving?"
Before Vader could deny any sort of attachment for anything, she amended her statement. "Why do you always have to drive?"
Vader started up the engine, not looking at her. "I know how to."
"So do I."
"I'm better than you."
Padmé laughed. "You only just learned how to drive a boat. How can you be better than me?"
Vader paused just as he was about to take the boat out of the dock. He glanced at her. "You think you can drive better than me?"
"I have far more experience than you," Padmé noted, leaning back into her seat, amused by his expression. He looked slightly annoyed, but also on edge, as if he were expecting something or preparing for something. "I've been able to practice more than you."
Vader lowered his hands from the controls. "Get a boat."
Padmé grew confused. "What?"
"Get another boat."
"You're kicking me out?" she asked incredulously.
"If you're better than me, you could easily outmaneuver me." Vader explained. "You could beat me to Varykino."
Padmé raised her eyebrows, floored. "You want to race?"
Vader nodded.
She had to laugh, surprised, delighted, and suddenly full of energy. She wasn't particularly interested in racing, but to see Darth Vader actually acting normal for the first time was enough to make her accept his challenge. "Fine. I'll get another boat."
Vader pulled out a holoprojector and brought up a map of the Lake Country. "I'll plan the route while you do that."
Padmé stepped back onto the dock, giddy. She knew these boats better than Vader, so she had a good deal of confidence in winning the race, but more importantly, she was simply relieved and happy beyond belief that he just wanted to race her. This didn't have to do with training or interrogating; it was just pure fun. He was having fun.
Heck, she was having fun with him.
After obtaining a boat of the same model, though different color scheme (his was orange and light aqua while hers was orange and lilac), Padmé strolled over to Vader once more. "So what's the route?"
Vader highlighted it in red on the hologram. They'd be circling several islands, taking a somewhat roundabout path back to Varykino. She knew the area well, though; this would be great. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he arrived at Varykino to find her waiting for him.
The two revved their engines and Padmé felt her adrenaline surge. Smiling challengingly at Vader, she saw his eyes brighten and he nodded. Over the noise, he said, "On three."
Padmé took a steadying breath, glancing ahead.
"One."
She mentally mapped out the route and what kind of obstacles she'd run into. This was going to be great.
"Two."
As Padmé continued to focus, all her concerns over the Alliance, the galaxy, the Empire, or anything else left her mind. It was only her and Vader right now.
"Three."
As soon as he spoke the word the two gunned their engines, charging out of the docks. Padmé immediately veered her boat towards the right as she began to tackle the first obstacle. The route Vader had chosen circled four islands before they reached Varykino, two of which were rather large and one of which was surrounded by rocks. The first island was simply one of the large ones, so she was giving herself plenty of room to get around it. The water was pitch black, and though one of Naboo's moons shone brightly in the sky, it was still rather difficult to see. Padmé had the lights on at maximum and she still had to squint sometimes. Her nerves began to tingle a little; maybe they should have saved the race for the morning. Oh, well. She knew the route well enough. She just hoped Vader wouldn't get into trouble.
Padmé easily cleared the first island when she distinctly saw headlights ahead of her. Vader was in the lead, hugging the island's shore as he twisted around it. Was he insane? He didn't know what was on those banks; he could smash right into a rock!
And blast it, he was in the lead!
Increasing her speed, Padmé dove towards him, making a sharp left turn to get to the other side of the next island they were to circle. She caught up to him, but he still maintained minimal distance between himself and the next island. This was the one riddled with rocks, so Padmé hastily pulled away to avoid the mess. Vader, on the other hand, did not. She was tempted to call out to him, but one glance showed that he was fine; he dodged between rocks, easily maneuvering the boat. Padmé would have watched, impressed, if she weren't also speeding along in her own boat. Hastily returning her attention to her own path, she took advantage of how much Vader would have to slow down to avoid a collision; she shot ahead, letting out a laugh as she cleared the second island.
The other two islands were relatively easy to drive around and Padmé didn't see Vader the entire time. Smiling in satisfaction, she finally caught sight of the villa's dark and distant silhouette against the starry sky. She was almost there. She was going to win! As Padmé glanced around for the dock, she felt her joy plummet and morph into shock, however, as she saw Vader pulling in far ahead of her.
"What?!" she snapped, suddenly annoyed. Pulling the boat into the dock, she immediately cut the engine and stood on her seat. "How in the blazes did you get ahead of me? I was ahead of you at the second island!"
"You went too far from the rocks. You lost time that way." He replied, and his voice held a distinct smugness to it.
"You had to slow down to maneuver those rocks, though! That would have made up for it!" Padmé retorted, distinctly annoyed.
"I didn't need to slow down."
"What—are you crazy?!" she leapt onto the dock and stormed over to him. "You could have gotten yourself killed doing that!"
"I told you I know what I'm doing." Vader replied calmly, grabbing his duffel bag and disembarking. "Now let's train."
Padmé huffed. "Fine. But let me drop my stuff off in my room first."
"That's unnecessary."
Sighing, Padmé decided it wasn't worth the effort to argue. Besides, Vader sounded a little impatient; apparently he was rather eager to start their training now that the race was over. "All right, then, let's go."
The Imperial nodded and immediately walked away from the dock. Padmé hastily followed him, wondering what he had in store for her. The two were silent as they went wherever Vader decided would be best. Eventually Padmé heard the distant crash of the waterfalls as Vader finally stopped. Padmé watched him expectantly.
"At night your reliance on your senses must change." Vader spoke firmly. "Your eyes are of little use to you, especially if they haven't adjusted to any kind of change in lighting. The most important sense you can use at this point is your hearing, but don't place your trust solely in any one sense. Smell, touch, even taste can assist you. Your ears tell you that those waterfalls are distant, yet you can taste the water in your mouth, so we're relatively close. Still, we're not too close; you can't feel the breeze of the waterfall. Using all of that information together, you can gather that we're approximately seven or eight meters from it. What else can you detect?"
Padmé immediately glanced around out of habit, but then she paused and closed her eyes. She knew Varykino well enough to find her bearings based on her other senses. "I… think I can hear some movement in the grass…? A shaak herd must be nearby." As Vader waited for her to continue, she opened her eyes and glanced at him. "When did you start your training?"
Vader eyed her, silently asking for an elaboration.
"I assume you had special Sith training on top of everything else," Padmé explained. "When did you start training? When you were a teenager? When you started the Imperial academy? Did you even go to the academy?"
"I'm not an officer."
"Then what exactly are you? Does being a Sith have its own rank?"
"I'm second-in-command. I'm head of the military. None of this information is currently pertinent. Go back to your observations."
Padmé shuddered a little. It was common knowledge that Darth Vader was essentially the top dog in the Empire apart from Palpatine, but hearing him actually say it reminded her of just how much power the man had.
"I… hear a firework. Someone's celebrating New Year's on their island." She eventually continued.
"How far?"
"I don't know," she shook her head. "Close enough that I can hear it over the waterfall but far enough that it's relatively quiet?"
"Fair enough for now," Vader responded.
Padmé suddenly got an idea and she immediately turned to Vader. "Milord, may I suggest something?"
Vader crossed his arms and nodded.
"How about we exchange some wisdom while we train?" she suggested carefully. "I tell you a story of how I learned something, and you tell me one of your own."
"A story?"
"I'll start," Padmé offered. "I'm sure you know the benefits of gathering intelligence. I learned how to network and get information at my first political event when I was preparing for the election as princess. I had just turned thirteen, and while I'd been in the Junior Legislative Program, it still was a little daunting. The event was a dinner, and it took so long and was exhausting at my age. I met a lot of people and had to keep up with who was who and what they knew and how they could help. I knew I had to impress all of them, but it just never really registered how helpful that would be until a few days later. I'd been trying to figure out the complicated economic situation in Theed but kept getting conflicting reports from people with their own agendas, but at the dinner I'd met people who were in charge of homeless shelters, job matching agencies, and support groups. When I correlated the information they gave me I got a far clearer picture than the ones the politicians were providing."
Vader looked at her in bewilderment. "What's the point in telling me all of that? If you wish to relay the information you learned, just say networking is important."
Padmé rolled her eyes. "It helps you retain the knowledge better when it's told through a story; it makes it more interesting." When the Sith continued to look skeptical, she prompted him. "Your turn."
He was silent for a while longer and then suddenly seemed to get an idea. "Eight years ago I was scouting contested ground on a planet in the Outer Rim; there were a lot of Rebel sympathizers, though Intelligence denied any official Rebel activity. I was there to confirm that. At the moment I was on the outskirts of a village. No one paid me any mind since I didn't dress like any sort of Imperial official. There was a girl, probably about seven or eight, who approached me. She asked me who I was and why I was there; she said nobody ever passed through her village. I said nothing. Apparently the sympathizers were looking for me, though; as soon as they picked up that I wasn't associated with anyone in the village they came to the conclusion that I was Imperial. They just happened to come to that conclusion while the girl was talking to me."
Padmé shook her head in horror as she realized what was coming next. "They didn't…"
"They threw a grenade." Vader continued. "I didn't react fast enough; I killed the sympathizers, but I was hurt. I had been relaxed; I didn't think there was a threat since there was a youngling in the area. That's why I say you should never let your guard down."
Padmé felt sick. To think that anyone who would associate themselves with the Alliance would do such a horrendous thing made her nauseous. She put a hand to her head, trying to rid her mind of the unwanted images of the aftermath of that explosion. "Why would anyone do that?"
"They're the enemy. They're capable of anything. Never assume otherwise."
"People like that obviously are the enemy," Padmé agreed wholeheartedly. "But why are the Rebels the enemy too? The people you dealt with were just terrorists."
"The Rebels are Master's enemy."
"Why is everything dictated by Palpatine's wishes?" Padmé shot back. She knew she shouldn't be pushing him like this, but after his story she felt like she had to dissociate the Rebels from those disgusting criminals he encountered. "Are the Rebels really that bad in your mind?"
"Why did you align with them?" Vader queried, ignoring her questions. "Why are you still protecting them?"
Sithspit, she really shouldn't have started this conversation. "I… wasn't sure about the Empire. I disagree with some of its rules. Tell my why I shouldn't align with the Rebels, and I'll listen."
"Because they're Master's enemy."
Padmé rolled her eyes, looking away. He really had no opinion of his own, did he? She was beginning to grow a little frustrated. "Why is Palpatine's will supreme, then?"
"Because he's Master."
"For such a pragmatic person you have some pretty thin arguments for your core beliefs." Padmé pointed out, crossing her arms. "You're flesh and blood like the rest of us. What makes you different? Why aren't you a person?"
Vader was silent, his gaze downward. He seemed extremely reluctant to reply. When Padmé prompted him, he shook his head.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"I can't tell you."
So there was a reason for his insane view? One he could articulate? Why wouldn't he tell her? "Why not?"
He shook his head once more. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "We need to continue with training."
"You can't keep avoiding it, you know," Padmé said. "I will keep asking."
"I will not tell you."
"Why not?"
Vader ignited his lightsaber. Padmé gasped, taking several hasty steps away from him. The red glow of the blade made him almost look demonic. His typically blue eyes reflected the light, reminding her strikingly of when she'd interrupted his walk.
"Never let your guard down," he said in a low voice. Then he suddenly lunged forward, swinging his blade horizontally. Padmé yelled, falling to the ground to dodge the attack. Then she rolled to the side to get away from him, barely missing another attack that would have decapitated her. The bright light dazzled her eyes, making it difficult to see her surroundings, and she blinked incessantly as she gasped for air and hastily took off, running as far from Vader as she could. She headed towards the sound of the waterfalls; she doubted his weapon would work in water.
Why was he attacking her? Was this training, or had she pushed him too far? Surely it wasn't the latter; he wouldn't have gone through all that effort just to lose it and kill her. The more she thought about it the more the former became apparent, but she still wasn't sure he wouldn't kill her if he thought she was too weak to work alongside him.
Was this how he had been trained?
Darth Vader suddenly appeared out of nowhere, landing directly in front of her as if he'd jumped. Padmé hastily tried to alter her course, but his blade singed her neck and she froze as he held it inches from her.
"Heading for the waterfalls – a good use of your surroundings. Impressive." He remarked, but he didn't lower the blade. He seemed to be having some sort of internal conflict with himself; his grip tightened on the hilt and his eyes narrowed, but then he closed them and let out a hiss, pulling away and deactivating his blade. Padmé stood still, just trying to breathe after being petrified, and she also noticed that he seemed similarly unnerved for some reason.
After finally catching her breath, Padmé rubbed her neck. She still had a slight burn from the last time he held that blade to her, thought at least then it hadn't seemed intentional. "I thought training wasn't supposed to get you killed. You're not very useful if you're dead."
Vader didn't reply, too preoccupied with whatever was bothering him. She observed him for a few seconds, wondering what kind of internal conflict had caused this, what he'd been thinking when he had almost kept that blade there, maybe even prepared to push it closer to her. She wondered why he suddenly looked afraid. "Milord?"
He snapped out of his daze. "You dodge relatively well, but you should be more coordinated and less panicked. Fear is a good motivator, but it shouldn't overwhelm you unnecessarily. Fear is good; panic is useless."
"If fear's good, then why don't you fear?" she asked. Of course he was capable of being afraid; his previous expression had just shown that. Still, she knew he'd deny it every time, so she wanted him to realize the unreasonableness of his own argument.
"Fear is an emotion. People have emotions."
"You're Human. You're capable of feeling emotions."
Vader looked away.
"You can admit anything to me, you know," Padmé said softly, trying to reassure him. "After all, you said we can show weakness to each other. You saw me cry. Why don't you let me be there for you?"
Vader returned his gaze to her, looking a little suspicious. "You want me to cry?"
Padmé shrugged. "I just want you to let out whatever's bothering you. Everybody needs to vent." When he said nothing, she continued, "Everybody's scared of something, milord. I'm scared of dying, just like most people, but I'm even more terrified of losing someone I care about. What about you? What are you afraid of?"
Vader was still and then he sighed heavily, sitting in the grass. Ever so softly, he finally admitted, "Failing."
Padmé slowly sat beside him, offering a reassuring smile. "Most people are, even me. Was it really so hard to admit that you feel fear?"
"It's not the same," Vader shook his head. "People's emotions… they come and go. Mine don't. They never come and they never go."
Padmé furrowed her brow, confused. "How can they never come and go?"
"I can't feel. I can't. Weapons don't feel. Master doesn't need an emotional mess, he needs me. I can't remember ever feeling. But I also… I can't…"
"But you feel fear," Padmé insisted.
"I don't feel it." He replied. "It's just there. There's nothing to feel; it's part of my existence. That's not emotion, that's my being. I cannot fail."
"Everybody makes mistakes," Padmé tried to argue gently.
"I'm not everybody." Vader said with a firm voice. "I don't make mistakes. I won't." Then he looked at her. "But you… you're just… I can't fail, but you're making me fail. Why can't you just be honest? Why can't you actually be with me like you said? Why can't you tell me about the Rebels?"
"I am being with you," Padmé replied, feeling her stomach knot. "That doesn't have to include anything about the Alliance or the Empire."
Vader looked too tired to argue. Padmé herself felt pretty drained, and she was sweating from their previous training; she was still dressed for chilly autumnal weather, but it was summertime in the Lake Country. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she gave him a smile. "Come on. Let's go back to the villa and clean up. We can relax for a little while and get some sleep."
Vader almost pouted. "We haven't finished training."
"I've got a great training exercise," Padmé immediately suggested, standing once more. "Survival cooking."
Vader looked at her curiously.
"Well you have to eat if you're stranded." Padmé shrugged. "So let's assume we're stranded on a remote island with a lovely villa full of food waiting for us. It's a survival test."
Vader rolled his eyes, also standing. "That's a lousy test."
"But alas, it's the scenario handed to us," Padmé replied with faux gravitas. "We must deal with it."
Vader folded his arms indignantly. "You're making fun of me."
"Oh no, I'm much too scared to tease a Sith Lord," Padmé laughed. "Come on, let's go."
Her laughter seemed to relax the man, and he simply followed her orders. The two returned to the villa in silence, and Padmé happily cleaned up while Vader cooked a small meal. After showering she wondered if she should dress up again, but decided against it. She put on a comfortable nightgown that reached a little beyond her knees with short sleeves and braided her hair. Then she went to the kitchen. Vader wasn't making anything particularly filling, having told her it was too late for any substantial meal. Instead he'd cooked some ground shaak meat and scattered it into a salad. She took the salad bowl from his hands and nudged him playfully with her waist. "Go change, milord. Get comfortable."
Vader blushed furiously at her gesture and muttered that he was fine.
"The rule is never let your guard down, but I'm giving you an exception," Padmé rebutted. "After all, you and I can show each other our weaknesses, right? Relax."
"How is changing clothes relaxing?"
Padmé giggled and rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless. Go put some nightclothes on. I'll be waiting."
Vader obliged, albeit with bemusement. Padmé set the table and settled into her chair, sighing and thinking about the day. By the Force had things taken a wild turn. Sometimes she still grew nervous glancing at him, but she suddenly found herself feeling far more comfortable around him as well. And for the first time he finally seemed to be getting comfortable around her. He'd kriffing admitted a weakness to her, and he hadn't run off to spar or be by himself since then. He'd stayed with her. He'd stayed. He was finally starting to open up, and the more he did it the more she drank it in, the more she enjoyed being around him and apparently vice versa. She wanted to feel like this more often, she wanted to decrease the uneasiness between the two of them. Just being able to talk to him was the most freeing feeling she'd had in what seemed like an eternity.
Darth Vader returned a few minutes later in a loose brown nightshirt and black pants. He sat across from her and the two silently began their meal.
"I still can't believe you beat me at the race," Padmé eventually remarked, thinking back to their adventure getting to the island. "You haven't even been driving that long." Vader continued to eat, so Padmé approached the conversation in a different manner. "Are your missions normally related to the military?"
Vader nodded.
"So you don't know much about normal social interaction," she surmised, though that was kriffing obvious from their interactions over the past week.
Vader paused. Padmé was about to remind him that he could be honest with her when he finally did admit the truth. "No, I don't."
"Then let me enlighten you," she said happily, leaning back in her seat as she finished her salad. Before she could continue, she suddenly got another idea and asked him to wait a moment. Rushing back into the kitchen, she dug into the freezer and pulled out the container of chocolate ice cream she had. He'd apparently liked it, so she figured it would be a good treat. Also, she wanted to finally show him the rest of the villa; it was an enormous place, but she'd left most of it closed off to both of them because she hadn't wanted him there in the first place. Varykino had always been a sanctuary for her and her family, and she hadn't wanted him to ruin it. But now… now she wanted to include him. She wanted it to be his sanctuary too.
Padmé returned to the dining room with the container in one hand and a couple of bowls and spoons in the other. "Care for some ice cream?"
Vader's gaze immediately fixed upon the container. He then hastily looked at her once more. "It's not necessary. I ate salad."
"But you might still be hungry." She tempted him by sliding the container towards him on the table.
He didn't take his eyes off it. "If I still require food, then I'll eat it."
Padmé placed the bowl in front of him and let him decide for himself. If he had any debate in his mind, he'd long since resolved it before the bowl became accessible; as soon as Padmé put it on the table he filled it with ice cream.
Padmé filled her own bowl and then motioned with her head. "Follow me."
Vader looked at his ice cream and then at her. "But it'll melt."
Padmé laughed. "We're not going too far."
Sighing, Vader picked up his bowl and reluctantly followed her. She guided him out of the dining room and down a hall. The hall was fairly large, and it led to a guest refresher, Vader's room (which was actually a servant's room, Padmé now recalled with a little guilt), and the room she'd chosen for herself. Beyond these rooms another doorway led to a large atrium with beautiful furniture in the center. Glass doors to the right allowed for a view of the lake. The stars were innumerable, and Padmé kept the lights off so they could still be seen. She opened one of the doors to let the warm summer breeze in and then lounged on a chaise. Vader watched her for a moment, his ice cream forgotten, before she pat a chair beside her with a smile. He silently obeyed her and sat beside her before recalling what was in his hands.
"The sky's beautiful," she whispered as he finally began to enjoy his ice cream. "I love watching the stars." She stared out the doors thoughtfully before asking, "Were you ever scared of anything apart from failing?" When Vader didn't reply, she explained. "When I was a little girl and I still lived in my home village in the mountains, I went hiking with Obi-Wan and Sola. One time, we walked too far and tried to take a shortcut to get home. Obi-Wan and Sola got ahead of me; Sola slipped and fell a long way, and Obi-Wan just ran as fast as he could to get to her. I couldn't keep up. Suddenly it was getting dark and I couldn't find either of my siblings. I remember being so scared. There was no way anybody could find me out there. I was lost and alone, and I just started to cry. It felt like an eternity, but eventually Obi-Wan somehow managed to find me. He held me so close, and he carried me the whole walk home. I was terrified of being lost, of being alone, and Obi-Wan had been there to comfort me. Did you ever have an experience like that?"
Vader paused for a moment but then continued to eat his ice cream. Padmé wasn't sure if he was ignoring her or trying to ensure his delicacy didn't melt. Apparently it was the latter; as soon as he finished he placed the bowl on the floor and sighed, drawing his knees up under his chin and hugging his legs. "Once." Padmé motioned for him to elaborate, and he eventually, reluctantly, did so. "The governor was running some errands. I requested to come along so I could begin to get my bearings; I didn't know much about Imperial Center outside the palace. He allowed it, and it was fairly uneventful. I studied the street names, sectors, travel routes, anything I thought I would need to know. When we reached the governor's destination, he started talking to some merchant. I didn't care about that, so I continued to investigate; I wandered around. I… didn't consider the population."
"Someone tried to hurt you?" she asked, worried.
Vader shook his head. "It wasn't anything belligerent; it was just the volume of people. I got pushed too far from the governor. I lost sight of him. I wasn't concerned; I thought I could sense him, but… when I finally accessed the Force to find him, I… I couldn't. There was so much noise. There were too many people. I followed the path I took, I retraced my steps, but he wasn't at the merchant's stand anymore. I figured I should head for the palace, but it was evening; I was due to train with Master in less than an hour, and I didn't have money for a taxi, and… things piled up. I tried to maintain my focus, but I started thinking about too many bad possibilities. I got hopelessly lost while doing so. It… wasn't a good day."
"How did it end?"
"The governor found me."
"Was he worried?"
"He was angry."
Padmé sat up a little. She felt irritation course through her – why would Tarkin be angry at Vader? Sure, he shouldn't have wandered off, but any person really should have been worried out of their mind if they'd lost a—wait. "How old were you? Where were your parents? Why was Tarkin of all people looking after you?"
"The governor has always looked after me." Vader answered.
"Why would a grand moff be charged with watching a youngling?"
"Because Master ordered it."
"So Palpatine's been training you since childhood," Padmé surmised, feeling a little queasy. She'd figured Palpatine had begun training Vader when he was a teenager; she hadn't realized the monster had gotten to him when he was that young.
"Yes, which means you're really behind," Vader sighed. "We should resume training."
Padmé stood, grabbing his bowl and stacking it on hers. "All right. You mentioned tracking, right? How about hide and seek?"
Vader also stood. "Hide and seek?"
"You know, the game?" Padmé explained, saddened but not surprised that he wasn't familiar with it. "One of us counts to thirty and the other person hides. Then the person counting has to find the other person."
Vader gave her a puzzled look. "You have a strange fondness for games."
"Seeing as you never played them, you really don't have a right to argue," Padmé replied lightly. "You hide, I'll seek."
"Are there parameters to where I can hide?"
"Anywhere in the villa," Padmé answered. "I'll count in here."
Placing the bowls on a small table, she sat on the chaise once more and closed her eyes. She began to count, and she heard Vader's bare feet hastily leave the room. She counted quickly; she knew most of the nooks and crannies of the villa, having played this game often with her siblings, but she still didn't want to underestimate Vader's ability to hide. It took her almost a good half hour to find him despite the small amount of time he'd had, and even then she was fairly certain he'd let her find him. Growing annoyed at being toyed with, she'd challenged him to another round. This continued on for what seemed an eternity. Padmé grew steadily more exhausted until on the fifth round she finally accidentally fell asleep while counting. For the first time in over two weeks, though, she slept peacefully, without a care in the universe.