Okay, so it was a day late, but I still got it updated! Thank you all so much for the reviews! Happy New Year! :)
The sky was painted midnight blue, and the brightness of the crunchy snow that blanketed everything made Al feel exposed as he piloted the Invariant Beauty. He sighed in exasperation as snow flurries covered most of the viewport, and he directed his attention to a console instead. He felt like he hadn't seen anything but snow for his entire life, like there wasn't anything in the galaxy apart from frozen tundra and even colder vacuous space. He shivered just thinking about it.
His ship bucked slightly and he gripped the controls more tightly. He'd been repairing his ship and most of the damage had been fixed, but the engine was still giving him trouble. At least he'd made it to Salkende and back in one piece.
Al felt his mood grow bleaker as he stared out at Hoth's apparent lack of anything apart from desolate frozen landscape. At least Fjesky, the capital city of Salkende, though in the dead of winter, had some variety to it; there were rivers, it was by a fjord, and Al had flown over forested mountains. Hoth had mountains, sure, but it was just rock, ice, and snow – that was basically the entire blasted planet in a nutshell.
He shouldn't be so depressed; he'd finally gotten some legitimately good news from Salkende. Upon his arrival for supplies, Al had met with Éothen, the warlord's son, who had said that Salkende was finally ready to lend its troops to the Alliance's cause. The details of the conversation had been cut short, however, as the man had gotten a transmission and had immediately excused himself and claimed he would talk to Al about it after the supplies had been loaded. Loading up his ship had only taken a few hours, and Al had waited expectantly in the warlord's residence, but apparently whatever the transmission had been about was more pressing, because another soldier spoke to Al instead, eventually saying that Salkende would amass its forces and the warlord would personally speak to Al upon his next visit.
It was terrific news, getting reinforcements… but somehow it just left Al even more tired, and he wasn't sure why. He should be far more excited, he should be filled with renewed optimism and hope… but Al had never been a really optimistic person, and he was far too involved in the war now to not constantly worry about the Empire hunting them down and obliterating them, even with Salkende at their back.
A small part of Al whispered that he could always leave, could always just return to his usual smuggling business and not be affected by any of this nonsense, but he immediately shook his head, his stomach churning. He would never do that – with all the rotten decisions he'd made in his life, he was not going to ruin any good things he'd done since becoming a criminal by running like a coward who couldn't take the pressure of being involved in the right cause. No one expected this war to be easy.
Sighing, Al sent access codes to the Alliance base as he approached it. Slowing the ship's velocity, he hovered over the ground for a few seconds as the hangar door opened to allow him entry. He landed relatively smoothly, slightly alarmed when one of his consoles shrilled a warning that his still damaged engine was losing power faster than it should have been.
Once Al had powered everything down he leaned back heavily in the pilot's chair and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to get out; his ship was no doubt warmer than the base. He shivered just thinking about it. He was exhausted; he'd been exhausted since he'd left Ghanu'jivo. It felt like an eternity ago since he'd been recovering from his concussion, an eternity since he'd seen Obi-Wan and Siri in Jedi attire with worried looks on their faces as he told them he was going to Imperial Center to finally get to that agent.
Whatever. It wasn't the first eternity to have passed since something eventful had happened in his life. Resigning himself to freezing, Al unstrapped and stood, heading towards the ramp. Besides, he was expecting a transmission from Odeki Rubar, the spy on Imperial Center, and he would have to report in to the Alliance.
The cold slammed into him as the ramp lowered, knocking the air out of his lungs. His teeth immediately started to chatter, and he resisted the urge to hug himself… at least for a few seconds. Shuddering, Al walked out into the hangar, closing his eyes tightly as the cold enveloped him.
"Blast," he hissed.
After telling some soldiers to unload the supplies and where to take them, Al hurried out of the hangar, and was relieved to find that the halls were at least a little warmer. He headed in the direction of Rebel Intelligence when his comlink chimed. Grabbing it he recognized Odeki's frequency and put in a small data chip to receive the information that would be sent. After the transmission ended, Al reviewed everything and realized that all that was there was a statement saying there was nothing to report; Intelligence had no mention of the Alliance whatsoever.
Al blinked. That was… unexpectedly good news. What would cause that? Hurrying to the spy headquarters in the base, Al reported his findings.
One of the spies leaned against a console, pondering the matter. "That seems strange that the Empire wouldn't have any mention of us."
"It's only today's info," Al shrugged uncertainly. "Maybe they just don't have anything new since yesterday."
"That's unlikely…"
"It might have to do with Rhaegon."
They turned to a Human male entering the vicinity. The spy asked, "What do you mean, Capt. Andor?"
"Grand Moff Rhaegon has apparently been causing quite a bit of trouble for the new emperor regent. He recently captured part of the Hydian Way." Andor explained. "It's likely Intelligence is focusing on him as the greater threat. They still have some internal problems they have to resolve."
Al stared at the spy, surprised. He'd figured that with as quickly as the Empire had come up with a new successor it would have recovered entirely from the power vacuum, but apparently he'd been wrong.
What a relief.
With that topic seemingly resolved, Al reported the news from Salkende, which seemed to at least nearly eliminate the frowns on most of the spies' faces. They needed the reinforcements, after all.
Al felt a little better as he headed towards his ship after finishing his report. He'd brought supplies and good news for a change, and the Empire seemed far busier with its own problems than with them. Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all.
Well, except for that blasted engine. But that was another matter for another time. Al was starving, and he wanted to find Obi-Wan and Siri and check up on them… once his body had caught up to the local time zone, at least.
Elsewhere in the base, Obi-Wan meditated alone. He had found the most reclusive corner possible and planted himself there for hours, first meditating to clear his mind, then training, and then trying to deliberate what to do about Darth Vader, trying to understand him. He had spoken briefly to Siri after he'd left Vader in his cell, but only to assure her that everything was fine and he would talk to her later. Qui-Gon and Siri had both tried to contact him since then, but he hadn't answered. He had to sort through this, he had to figure out what he should do, and he was fairly certain he would get biased advice from both of them. Obi-Wan honestly didn't know who to turn to.
He'd thought that when Vader had said he wasn't sure if he would kill Padmé if he could go back, it was all over. No one who loved someone would show such uncertainty when given the opportunity to save that person. Vader wasn't capable of feeling love if that was his sentiment.
So why had he apologized?
Obi-Wan wished there was someone he could talk to about this, someone who could give helpful advice, who could analyze the situation without all the emotional baggage that Obi-Wan and Siri carried. He supposed he could talk to a Jedi, but they had their own bias given that Vader was a Sith (in name only, he scoffed mentally). There was no neutral party in this, and it was starting to finally weigh down on Obi-Wan; he'd thought he'd been improving, he'd thought that he could handle this assignment, but this latest development was just too much on top of all the other uncertainty.
The Force wasn't being much help, either. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to expect, but there had been times where his intuition had led him to the right answer. In this case, however, the Force was silent, simply ebbing and flowing as if everything were normal when it most certainly was not. He supposed he should be using the sensation as a chance to calm down, as an opportunity to release his frustration and confusion as a Jedi should; clearing his mind of all this nonsense might give him a new way to look at the matter. He tried to—do or do not, a voice whispered annoyingly—but he couldn't quiet his mind long enough; he'd managed it earlier, and then training had distracted him, but as soon as he'd started debating the issue again he found himself floating in too many words and scenarios and just everything. He was overwhelmed.
Obi-Wan's chronometer beeped as another hour ticked by. He sighed heavily, burying his face in his hands; he'd been here for ten hours. It was midnight. Continuing to sit here was a pointless venture and he knew it. A part of him wanted to resolve the issue now, but he dismissed it as best he could; he had to be patient. Such matters took time; there was no way he could figure it out now. He just wished there was someone who could offer him clear advice.
Obi-Wan sighed and stood. There was no one. Sometimes there were instances where nobody had any help to offer, where one had to rely on one's own judgment based on one's beliefs. Obi-Wan sighed again. It was times like this he wished he had a firmer belief system in some higher power; maybe that would help. He wasn't sure, though; the gods of Naboo's religion were more distant in their concern over the affairs of the living, so even if he did bother sending a prayer up to them it wasn't like they'd answer.
And he'd already established that the Force was being fairly useless at this point.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Obi-Wan supposed his biggest problem was himself. The Force could offer solace and an opportunity to think clearly if he just let go of all that was bothering him, if he could just quiet his mind long enough. Normally this wasn't so blasted difficult.
So if the biggest problem was himself… how could he solve it? What was making it so difficult to focus? Was it because Padmé had been brought up once more? He'd accepted Padmé's death by this point, and though there was still an ache for her when he heard her name, it no longer ate at him the way it used to. In fact, it barely affected him anymore. He'd even reconciled himself with the fact that he had to speak with his sister's killer on a daily basis; he'd told himself initially that it had to be done, that it would be a waste to not attempt to aid the Alliance in a way that only he apparently could. But as time had progressed, he'd been speaking to Vader for more than just the Alliance, for more than just closure… he'd been doing it because he just wanted to help. He'd been doing it because he'd cared.
And then he throws it all away…
He supposed that was it, then. Vader had hurt him. Was that really the only reason Obi-Wan couldn't handle his own emotions at the moment?
But his apology… what did it mean? And why was such a simple thing as I'm sorry bothering him so blasted much?
Obi-Wan could imagine that someone like Darth Vader rarely apologized for anything. He supposed if the Imperial was doing so, then it was genuine and signified a degree of respect. But Vader himself had stated that he didn't trust Obi-Wan… so why would he admit to being wrong about something? Was he apologizing because Obi-Wan was Padmé's brother? Did he really think an apology would fix everything he'd done?
Blast it all, Obi-Wan had to talk to someone. There were only three people who he could trust on the matter, but… Al wasn't around, Siri was too involved to think clearly, and Qui-Gon… well… Obi-Wan wasn't sure. He didn't doubt the man's wisdom, just his judgment when it came to Vader. Perhaps if he was vague in his questions the Jedi Master could help. Obi-Wan knew the Jedi Master well enough to realize that despite his tendency to pick up pathetic life forms, he was still a reasonable, logical man. He was nearly obsessed with helping Vader, but he couldn't deny the facts, and perhaps he could shed some light on this situation.
Exiting the small storage area, Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Siri standing outside in the hallway.
Siri smiled as Obi-Wan struggled to catch his breath. "How you holding up?"
"You could warn me when you're stalking me, you know," Obi-Wan panted, his hand on over his heart.
"If you didn't sense me then you were distracted," Siri remarked. "I only didn't go in and bother you because I knew you'd go someplace like this to be alone. That didn't mean I wasn't going to check on you when you finally left."
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly growing exasperated now that most of the shock had worn off.
"Are you really going to ask that when you're standing there looking half dead?" Siri rolled her eyes. "You didn't answer your comlink, and you looked out of it when you left Vader's cell. I was worried."
Obi-Wan felt some warmth enter him despite his annoyance, and he leaned against the wall with another heavy sigh. Siri walked over to him, eying him with concern. After examining his expression for a few seconds, she said softly, "You're imploding, aren't you?"
Obi-Wan grumbled. Siri chuckled and hugged him.
"I told you I'd be here," she whispered as she held him, and Obi-Wan let his forehead rest on her shoulder. "What's the matter?"
He didn't wanted to tell Siri about Vader's seeming lack of regret. He didn't want her to retread her earlier path of disdain and bitterness. He didn't want to reopen that wound.
"Obi," Siri said softly, sensing his struggle. "It's okay. Just talk to me."
"I… I don't know what to say," Obi-Wan eventually admitted.
Siri pulled away and looked him in the eye. He sensed her worry grow. "Then just start by telling me what happened."
He didn't want to do this. "He apologized."
Siri blanched, surprised. "For what?"
Obi-Wan looked away. "I'm not sure."
But he was. In fact, he was almost certain. Vader's apology had to do with Padmé. Was he apologizing for killing her, or for his answer? How would an apology even help? Why would he do that, why would he have the nerve to think all would be forgiven?
Was that even his intent? Obi-Wan knew that if he asked why he'd done it, Vader wouldn't answer. The man was maddeningly frustrating like that.
"That's what's been bothering you?" Siri asked, sounding suspicious.
Obi-Wan didn't dare say yes; Siri would sense the lie. Instead he just sighed tiredly.
"Obi-Wan. What's really bothering you?"
He swallowed. "Siri… I don't want to discuss it."
The Force prickled with frustration. "I want to help you."
"Right now, the best way you can do that is to let me figure this out on my own," Obi-Wan eventually said, looking her in the eye once more. "Please."
It hurt to say it, but he had to; he wasn't going to send Siri spiraling down another path of anger, not only for her own sake but for Obi-Wan's sanity's sake as well. He needed somebody to be his steadying rock, and if Siri was in an uproar about Vader's comment and he had to worry about her going off, it would just be one more thing that would drive him over the edge.
Siri's brow furrowed, and she looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn't. Instead she exhaled sharply, annoyed, and looked away. "Fine."
Obi-Wan didn't want to annoy her, and he felt guilty at sensing how his seeming lack of trust hurt her. But he couldn't deal with the repercussions of telling her. He could barely deal with what he was going through now. Siri half glared at him before closing her eyes tightly, trying to calm herself. Eventually she blew out a breath.
"I'm going to bed," she said, turning to leave. "Are you coming?"
Obi-Wan knew he should sleep, but their conversation had only agitated him. He wouldn't get any rest, and he would probably bother his wife. Besides, he still had to talk to Qui-Gon… assuming the man was still awake. "Not now, no."
Siri nodded and left, and Obi-Wan felt even worse than before. Why couldn't he do anything right when it came to dealing with people, anyway? He could talk himself out of anything except for relationship issues.
"Blast," he muttered, frustrated.
Obi-Wan wandered the base aimlessly, too wound up to rest but too lost in a thousand thoughts to really actively search for Qui-Gon, who at this point was probably already in bed. Eventually he found himself in a hangar, and, much to his surprise, his master sat directly in front of him, watching him – had the Jedi Master sought him out?
Probably.
"Something has been troubling you, Padawan," Qui-Gon remarked knowingly.
Obi-Wan felt exasperated. "Am I really that readable?"
Qui-Gon smiled gently. "I assume Siri already found you."
"You assume correctly."
Qui-Gon watched him for a few seconds before motioning for Obi-Wan to sit across from him. The Jedi Padawan sighed and accepted the offer. Neither spoke; unlike Siri, who had learned to push Obi-Wan for information, Qui-Gon was always infinitely patient and simply waited for Obi-Wan to be ready to speak. It was a trait the Padawan appreciated greatly; although Siri's insistence was often necessary to get Obi-Wan to admit anything, it was still nice that Qui-Gon would wait until Obi-Wan actually chose to discuss the matter with him.
Obi-Wan hadn't quite mastered the balance between waiting for someone to admit their own difficulties as Qui-Gon did and pressing the matter when they wouldn't budge as Siri did, which was fairly obvious in his handling of Padmé shortly before her death. He'd thought he'd improved, he'd thought his interaction with Vader had proven that… but now he wasn't so sure.
Eventually the silence became unbearable, and Obi-Wan sighed. There was no point in prolonging the matter. "I asked Vader if he regretted his decision to kill Padmé. If he could change what had happened, given the opportunity."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Obi-Wan intoned, "And yes, I'm well aware that Jedi should not dwell on impossibilities. I simply... had to ask. Besides, Lord Vader isn't a Jedi."
"What did he say?" Qui-Gon asked quietly, remaining unreadable.
"He said… he said he didn't know."
Both Jedi remained quiet as Obi-Wan struggled to express how he felt. As a Jedi he should release his emotions, but he had to at least know what they were first. He had to reconcile himself with them first.
Qui-Gon took a slow, deep breath. "I sense your confusion, your frustration. Obi-Wan, you must realize that everything that occurs in this world happens for a reason. It is as the Force wills it. Sometimes it is not our job to figure out why something happens but to simply accept it."
The will of the Force. How was that supposed to help him in this instance? Was he supposed to just accept Vader's seeming inability to be a Human being, to accept that he would never understand that man despite how much he wanted to?
"I don't know how to handle him." Obi-Wan admitted. "I thought being patient and kind was the way to go, but there's only so much I can do. If he refuses to accept my help…"
"Has he?"
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, growing frustrated. No, the man hadn't refused his help, but there just were times like this when despite any progress they'd made it just seemed impossible. Times like this where Vader said something that just stupefied Obi-Wan beyond belief, times like this when no matter how hard he tried he couldn't pierce through the words and into the meaning that infused them.
Times where he needed to talk to Vader face-to-face without any dancing around the issue, without any lying or reluctance or holding back and the man just wouldn't do it.
I don't trust you.
Obi-Wan took a calming breath. "How am I supposed to know what the will of the Force is?"
"Life will progress as the Force wills it, Obi-Wan. The only way you can know that will is to simply try every possibility, to continue to follow the Light Side and your intuition. Some things will happen out of your control, and you must accept that."
Like dealing with Vader, apparently. But have I tried every possibility with him?
Obi-Wan felt his shoulders sag. This conversation was… helpful, in a sense. It at least finally hammered in the thought he'd already pondered and had wanted to avoid, but there was no getting around it.
He had to talk to Vader about this. Or, more accurately, he had to play a guessing game with Vader about this.
Rising, Obi-Wan bowed. "Thank you for your advice, Master."
Qui-Gon also stood, putting a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Have patience, Padawan… and have faith. Despite the hardships, the Light always will prevail. Everyone has the ability to follow the Light Side or the Dark Side; their choices determine their fate, and their choices are influenced by their knowledge, their surroundings, their upbringings, and their companions. You must have faith that, given the right circumstances, everyone is capable of good. But we have to give them those circumstances."
Obi-Wan supposed he was a little cynical; being told to have faith was… strange, but comforting. He tipped his head. "I understand."
Leaving the hangar, Obi-Wan made his way to Vader's cell. As he drew near, he started to sense the familiar presence. Testing the waters with the Force, he could only sense the usual icy chill that Vader infused into everything around him. Obi-Wan entered the cell after a nod to the guards.
Vader was standing against the back wall, staring right at Obi-Wan, his arms crossed, and his expression neutral as usual.
"I see you sensed me coming," Obi-Wan remarked.
Vader watched him. Obi-Wan felt a little drained immediately, but he shook it off as best he could. Walking to his right, he sat on the ground and pat the spot beside him. The Sith didn't take his eyes off the Jedi, but his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly in a question.
"I just want to talk," Obi-Wan explained a little tiredly. He wished Vader would just accept that fact instead of question his every motive.
Slowly, the Sith apprentice wandered over to the spot Obi-Wan had indicated and slid to the floor beside him, still watching him intently. Leaning against the wall, Obi-Wan draped his arms over his knees, loosely holding his hands in front of him and staring at the opposite wall. "Have you ever heard of the will of the Force?"
Vader was silent for a minute. Obi-Wan leaned his head back, gazing somewhere between the upper wall and the ceiling, letting his mind wander. He was too exhausted to carefully plan everything he said; some part of him just wanted to parse out everything he was learning with the Sith, to figure out what Vader was and wasn't willing to admit, to learn about him, to figure out who he really was and why he acted the way he did… to hopefully eventually figure out what Vader had meant earlier.
"The Force doesn't have a will."
"Then what do you think it is?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, looking at the Sith with some resignation.
"It's an energy field. It's created by all living things."
"But it doesn't have a consciousness of its own?"
"The Force obeys us, not the other way around."
"Why?"
Vader blinked, shifting. "Be…because."
"Did Palpatine never explain why?"
The cold became biting, but Obi-Wan didn't shudder away from it anymore. He was tired of dancing around the issue. "Why?"
"Because Master said so."
Master. The man used the word like it were actually the deceased emperor's name. Perhaps to him it was. Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought of it. "Was he never wrong?"
"No." Vader immediately answered.
"How did he learn to become omniscient?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.
Vader eyed him as if debating whether he were joking or not. Eventually he shrugged. Obi-Wan nearly cringed; the way the man thought of Palpatine was downright terrifying. He practically worshipped him. But why? With as abusive as Sith training supposedly was, there would be no reason for Vader to assume Palpatine was some sort of saintly being.
Some spiteful and angry part of Obi-Wan reared its ugly head at the thought, eager to prove Vader's ideology wrong. "Did Palpatine think he would win that fight a week ago?"
It felt like lightning had struck. All the hairs on Obi-Wan's body stood on end, and the ice melted quickly into searing heat. Vader leapt to his feet, but Obi-Wan did as well.
And then it hit him.
Vader defended Palpatine the same way Obi-Wan would have defended his parents as a child. This was more than just brainwashing, more than just emotional scarring and trauma.
Apparently Vader wasn't entirely deprived of emotions… just his own ability to recognize them within himself.
"You loved him." Obi-Wan breathed.
The Force screamed in warning, and in a heartbeat Vader had tackled Obi-Wan to the ground. The Sith's hand snaked around Obi-Wan's neck, and he felt his chest burn as his body demanded oxygen that he could no longer provide. Obi-Wan grabbed Vader's wrist with his right hand and reached for his lightsaber with his left.
"I… Vader… I…" Obi-Wan choked, his vision blurring. He had to act now; he had to either activate his blade as the hilt rested firmly against Vader's gut, or he had to pray that these words would reach the Imperial. "I'm sorry."
Vader let go. Obi-Wan gasped for air, his head pounding, his heart beating fast. The Sith Lord shifted, shuffling to the other side of the cell.
"I feel nothing," he snarled, his eyes cast in shadow. He hugged his knees to his chest and glared at Obi-Wan balefully, and his entire body trembled. This was the nerve Obi-Wan had struck days before, the nerve that had been torn to shreds ever since Palpatine's death.
This was everything.
"I feel nothing, I am nothing, don't you dare suggest otherwise!"
Obi-Wan stared at him. What?
The two remained silent as the Force raged. Obi-Wan was surprised the entire Order hadn't sensed it and come running… though honestly they probably had.
"I'm sorry," he repeated weakly, trying to break through the Sith's defenses.
"Why are you apologizing?" the Sith demanded.
"The same reason you did."
Vader's gasps of air quieted, and his brow relaxed a little as confusion settled in. "You didn't kill him."
So Vader's apology had been about killing Padmé after all. "You killed her because you loved him more than her…"
It made so much sense now.
And blast it all it hurt. "Did Padmé know?"
"Love is a weakness, I have no weakness!" Vader roared, leaping to his feet once more.
The cell door opened and guards immediately entered, blasters ready. Just behind them Obi-Wan sensed Jedi quickly approaching. Something scraped his hand, and he realized a second too late that his lightsaber had been yanked out of his grip by the Force.
Obi-Wan's blade hissed to life in Vader's hands.
In a heartbeat the guards had fired and were dead. A heartbeat later three Jedi had entered the room, and more were on their way. Vader engaged them, killing one—a Padawan—fairly quickly and wounding another. Two older Jedi Knights hurried in as Vader cut down the injured Jedi and nearly sliced the third in half.
Obi-Wan cried out for Vader to stop, but the Sith Lord no longer heard him. No one did.
Despite initially having the upper hand, Vader was still relatively weak from his illness and faltered. One of the Knights took this as her opportunity. Time slowed. Obi-Wan sensed the danger, sensed the outcome. The Jedi Knight's blade was angled slightly, ready to decapitate the Sith Lord, who was deflecting another attack while his knees nearly buckled beneath him.
Darth Vader was fallen, empty, hopeless. He was a Sith Lord, an Imperial, the Emperor. He was Padmé's murderer, he was brainwashed beyond belief, he was too far gone. He was dangerous, a killer. He was lost, naïve. He was hurt. He was a boy. He'd been ordered to kill someone he loved by someone he loved. He was a wreck. He was broken.
He was not going to die like this.
Obi-Wan leapt forward, using the Force to push the whole group over, grabbing Vader fiercely to tackle him. One Jedi stumbled, his blade deactivating. The other reached out to balance herself, and her blade still aimed for Vader's neck.
It slashed through part of Obi-Wan's back and shoulders instead.
Obi-Wan gasped, collapsing. His entire body tingled and screamed. His head spun, he couldn't breathe, his fists and jaw clenched in an attempt to fight the pain. He heard someone cry out, felt the thin layer of snow on the floor get kicked up around him as someone stood over him.
He sensed Qui-Gon and Siri. He sensed panic, anger, protectiveness, shock. He sensed far, far too much. He vaguely noticed a leg and heard the hum of a lightsaber and pieced together that Vader was standing directly over him, one leg in front of him and one behind him, holding the blade parallel to the ground in a guard position, daring anyone to approach. Was he holding Obi-Wan hostage?
No… no, he was protecting him.
Siri yelled at Vader to get away, activating her own blade. Obi-Wan tried to call out to her, but he was in too much pain to make any noise but a moan, too much pain to even try to focus on the Force and reach her mind through their bond. Qui-Gon spoke firmly, some Jedi shifted, an argument seemed to break out, but Vader refused to move.
Obi-Wan moaned again, trying to reach out. He moved his right arm a fraction and pain seared through him in response. His head felt like it was going to explode.
Obi-Wan blacked out.
Imperial Center was as dreadful as he remembered it: warm, muggy, windy, and it smelled awful. Éothen's soldiers glanced around in awe or anxiety, confirming his suspicion that they'd never been here before. Checking the map he'd examined prior to landing, he motioned for them to follow him; he figured Erwyna would be lingering near Tlenden's apartment, so they would start there.
Grabbing his comlink, Éothen called her. "Where's the family reunion happening?"
"At Grouchy Grandpa's, of course. Where else? What's your ETA?"
Éothen held back a snort. Yep, Tlenden's apartment. "About ten minutes."
Motioning to his seven squad mates, Éothen led the trek to Erwyna. His mind was still buzzing, but he was also feeling nervous. He wasn't sure why, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He figured just getting answers would help.
It wasn't long before they reached the senator's apartment complex, and Éothen hesitantly led his troops indoors. It was midday local time, so ideally, Tlenden was at the senate. As expected, when Éothen knocked, Erwyna was the one to answer.
As soon as he saw her, Éothen locked eyes with Erwyna. She had that expression that typically denoted something big was about to occur; she normally looked that way before an op. Éothen didn't say anything, and neither did Erwyna; she simply stepped aside and he entered. His squad, on the other hand, was far more eager.
"Lieutenant, what's going on?" one of Erwyna's subordinates, Trynen, asked.
"Salkende's fiancée is alive," Erwyna remarked as soon as the door closed.
Everyone froze. As fiancée to the future warlord, Padmé was known as the bride of Salkende, so they knew exactly who Erwyna was talking about.
"But… the news…?" Trynen stared at Erwyna confusedly.
"I don't know why her death was fabricated, but it was," Erwyna explained. "One of her handmaidens was used for the body."
Éothen quickly questioned, "Then where is she? How do you know all this? How did she survive? Why did they even bother with the farce?"
"I'm still trying to get those answers," Erwyna sighed. "It's why I called you guys. I had a slicer hack into the security feeds at Amidala's apartment. That gave me enough info to realize a few things: firstly, Darth Vader was the one who attacked Amidala, assuming she was even attacked; secondly, her handmaiden was used for the body; thirdly, Imperial Intelligence and some other faction interfered with the operation or were responsible for organizing it. Intelligence is our next target for information – they should have the original undocumented feeds."
"The feeds were tampered with?"
Erwyna nodded. "They edited out the handmaiden so no one would suspect anything; according to the news she's the one who found the body, but there's no footage of her. She and her family mysteriously died a few days later."
Éothen did a double take. "Wait—we're breaking into Imperial Intelligence?"
Erwyna smirked. "You sound like the slicer. Don't tell me you're nervous."
Éothen laughed. "I'm smart enough to know we're all insane for doing this… and yeah, maybe a little nervous too. Got a plan?"
"I've been working on it. I just need everyone's help."
Éothen blew out a sigh. This was a lot of information to take in. "Okay… let's get to it. When's the break-in?"
"Tonight. We're meeting up with an informant who will get us inside."
Éothen looked at his team. "Then we'd better get to work."
Well this was an odd sensation.
Obi-Wan groaned as he felt himself floating in a strange mix of warmth, worry, distant aches, and frigid fingers and toes. His eyes eventually fluttered open and he found himself staring at a ceiling. What had happened?
Vader.
Obi-Wan tried to sit up but was met with sluggish muscles and lots of pain. He gasped, and several alarms blared from a monitor beside him.
"Obi!"
Obi-Wan turned his head to see his wife at his side in an instant, and Al, seemingly out of nowhere, was right behind her. Both looked frantic, but to Obi-Wan's greater concern, Siri had a slightly bloody bandage wrapped around her head.
"Whatappened? Siri…?" he slurred.
"It's okay, Obi," she hushed him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're in the med bay. You're safe."
"Youread…"
Al stared confusedly, but Siri knew what he was saying. "It's just a bump on the head, nothing to worry about."
"How…?"
"Long story."
"Vader…?"
"He's…" Al said nervously, looking elsewhere.
"He's been dealt with," Siri finished for the smuggler, giving Obi-Wan a reassuring smile. "Everything's going to be okay."
Obi-Wan felt dread fill the pit of his stomach as memories flooded him, and he heard the monitor shriek again. "Where's he?"
"Obi-Wan—"
"Where—is—he?"
Siri sighed heavily. "He's sedated. I don't know where they took him exactly."
Obi-Wan glanced around at the dimly lit bay as his senses started to prickle back to life. Vader's presence hovered in the air; wherever he was, he was somewhere in the vicinity. Obi-Wan looked at Siri and was once again confused; why did she have a bandage around her head?
"Your head…?"
Siri's expression morphed into worry. "I told you, just a bump. How are you feeling?"
"Like a shaak sat on me."
Al barked a laugh. "Yeah, he's feeling better."
"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked, finally starting to get his wits about him.
"Vader went ballistic," Siri said, her eyes glistening with worry and fear. "He killed four people. You were hurt… by accident, I guess; it's a lightsaber wound, but it doesn't go very deep. I thought it was Vader… but… we're not sure. It doesn't seem to be."
"He's alive?"
"Obi, I said earlier that he's sedated, remember?"
"I… remember," Obi-Wan explained, irritated that he couldn't string words together properly. "I mean why is he alive?"
"Good question," Al sighed.
"He… he wouldn't leave you," Siri explained, sounding confused and scared at the same time. "I ran into the cell when I sensed you were in danger, and you were on the ground with a lightsaber wound. Vader was standing over you with your saber – I was convinced he had hurt you, that he was using you as a hostage to stop the others from killing him. But… that wasn't the case. Qui-Gon managed to convince everyone that it was best to not kill him, but he still had to knock Vader out. They dragged him somewhere in the medical bay and sedated him. I told them about the incident with the binders last time, so they've got his feet chained down too. I think they're going to toss him back in the cell once they get another dose of sedatives in him."
"Qui-Gon's arguing with your head Jedi Master right now, as well as the Alliance Council," Al chimed in. "They're debating killing Vader – apparently they were supposed to if he caused any more trouble."
"It… it wasn't his fault…" Obi-Wan tried to explain, feeling slightly frantic at the idea. "I… provoked him."
Siri pushed lightly on him, and he felt a little tired in response. "Don't worry about Vader. You need to rest."
Al folded his arms. "Yeah, they said you'd be on painkillers for most of the morning, but you should be discharged tomorrow."
"How long has it been?"
"Five hours."
Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "I… have to speak with Master Ti."
"I just said—"
"They can't kill him," Obi-Wan interrupted Siri, tensing his muscles in an attempt to sit up, which failed miserably. "I provoked him."
"Yes, you said that," Siri rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't care if Darth Vader told you everything we need to know about the Empire, you're not getting out of bed until they discharge you."
"He told me everything I need to know about him."
Siri and Al glanced at each other, surprised. "He what?"
"Or I should say, he didn't deny what I said," Obi-Wan amended as he finally managed to pull himself into a seated position despite Siri's glare of disapproval.
"What did he say?" Al asked.
Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, but there was no way he could keep this to himself, particularly after what he'd just stated. A part of him still hesitated at telling Siri, but this was important. "Vader wasn't just loyal to Palpatine, he didn't just care for him… Vader loved Palpatine."
Siri and Al gaped at him.
"The way he talks about him… the way he defends him… it's like a child," Obi-Wan shook his head, which was spinning as the realizations returned, crashing down on him. "He adored that man, he looked up to him. That's why he obeyed him."
Al made some sort of noise that sounded like a mixture of a squeak and a moan. "He's completely insane."
"How could anyone even like that monster, let alone love him?" Siri questioned disbelievingly.
"Is it really surprising?" Obi-Wan countered as the explanation made itself clear to him. "He's been with Palpatine since he was a small boy – the man's probably the closest thing he ever had to a father. Just… just imagine it, Siri – we killed his father… based on how we felt towards him over Padmé can you imagine how he feels about all of us?"
Al squeaked again, his hand drifting to his blaster, and then he furrowed his brow. "But… he hasn't been trying to kill everybody all the time. He's talked to you."
"Because you're related to Padmé," Siri remarked. "That was why he'd listened to you before."
"So let me get this straight," Al said. "Darth Vader was ordered by his all-but-slave-master whom he apparently loved to kill the woman he loved, he does it, and then he listens to that woman's dead relatives because… guilt?"
"Perhaps… or respect for her," Obi-Wan wondered aloud. "But that…"
Was that still the reason why he listened? He'd said he hadn't trusted Obi-Wan. But he'd been far more open with him, it had felt like they'd made progress… he'd defended him when he'd apparently thought the Jedi were a threat to both of them.
Was it really just because of Padmé?
"I need to talk to him," Obi-Wan muttered.
"No." Al and Siri both immediately said.
"I know he's asleep right now," Obi-Wan said exasperatedly before cringing as some fresh pain prickled through him. Those painkillers were starting to wear off.
"And he might be dead before you're discharged, depending on what the council decides," Al remarked.
Obi-Wan grew alarmed, but Siri cut him off before he could speak. "Look, I'll talk to them and make sure the decision isn't made until you plead your case, okay? Just be patient."
The sheer irony of Siri telling Obi-Wan to be patient finally snapped him out of his worry. He stared at his wife in bemusement, and she smirked back.
"Fine," he huffed, sagging into the pillow.
Al smiled and bade Obi-Wan a good night with a yawn before departing. Siri pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed. He watched her with some concern as his eyes fell upon the bandage around her head once more.
"It's fine, Obi," she assured him. "They checked it over; didn't even get a concussion. Now, if you can get enough sleep, I'll let you hear about the baby."
Obi-Wan jumped, startled. "Hear about the baby?"
"Mm-hm," Siri nodded, stretching as a wave of exhaustion overcame her, and Obi-Wan realized she and Al must have been up all night watching over him. "Nothing's wrong; they did an initial scan when I first got here and everything was fine. This'll be more like a typical prenatal check-up for once. Doctor's looking her over in about three hours."
Obi-Wan felt giddy and confused and startled all at once. Too much. There was just too much right now. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and attempting to calm himself. He felt Siri lay her hand over his own.
"Rest, Obi," she whispered. "I'll wake you up when it's time."
With his wife at his side, Obi-Wan calmed and felt out in the Force once more, sensing Vader's presence. The Imperial's life signature hummed dully, and though Obi-Wan couldn't quite interpret what that meant, just feeling that the man was alive was good enough for him. Obi-Wan turned towards Siri a little and fell asleep.
As he rested, Siri felt exhaustion overwhelm her, but she had to stay awake for just a little while longer. She'd promised she'd talk to the council, and with her husband fast asleep, it was time to do so.
Rising, Siri rubbed her eyes, mulling over everything. When she'd entered Vader's cell, having sensed that Obi-Wan was in danger, her heart had nearly stopped at the sight of Vader standing over him with his own weapon activated and corpses littering the floor. She'd thought Obi-Wan had been badly hurt, that Vader had been the one to do it, that he was dying right there in front of her. She'd just reacted, she'd activated her own blade and charged ahead, knowing full well that she didn't have enough training but too filled with determination and protectiveness to not try and get to her husband (well, there went the rule of non-attachment…). Vader had grabbed her by the arm and thrown her against the wall behind him. She'd hit her head on the wall and fallen just beside her husband, and she'd expected some other retaliation, but the Sith Lord had returned his attention to everyone else as if Siri weren't important. She hadn't cared – her pride was the least of her concerns. At least she was close to Obi-Wan, she could check on him.
And then Vader had told her to treat him.
Siri shook her head. Somehow she doubted it was just respect for Padmé that would compel Darth Vader to seemingly worry about Obi-Wan's well-being. Somehow her husband had ingratiated himself to the Imperial… and Siri wasn't sure that was such a great idea. Still, it was apparently better than him not liking him at all – he would have been another corpse on the floor if that were the case.
Siri shuddered, feeling her blood freeze at the thought of it.
Exiting the medical wing, Siri made her way towards the briefing rooms, following her senses towards Qui-Gon. She was growing too tired to distinguish his presence from anybody else's but she knew her way well enough to guess where he was.
She couldn't believe what Obi-Wan had said. Vader had loved Palpatine? By this point Siri, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon had all come to the conclusion that Darth Vader had cared for his master, which was already mind boggling, but there was a massive difference between being fond of someone or loyal to someone and loving someone.
Just how screwed up was this guy? What in the blazes would make someone love a monster who no doubt tortured him as much as anybody else, if not more?
"That guy needs some serious therapy," Siri muttered to herself. Assuming he lives that long. Assuming there's anything left to fix.
Speaking of living that long… how in the blazes was she going to defend the guy to the Alliance and the Jedi Council? For heaven's sake, she was going to be talking to her superiors in both the military and the Order, and she was going to have to tell them that they shouldn't kill Darth Vader despite even her own misgivings on the matter because Obi-Wan was the one who had actually started the fight… somehow.
Blast it all, Obi, you owe me for this. Siri shook her head. Despite her own reservation on keeping Darth Vader alive, she trusted her husband's judgment. She just hoped his faith was well placed.
Eventually Siri found her way to the correct briefing room. As soon as the door opened the Force washed over her like an angry wave and multiple voices were heard.
"—no reason at this point – he's too dangerous!"
"He might still have valuable information—"
"—said we would put him down—"
Siri cleared her throat loudly. "He stays alive until Obi-Wan is discharged."
Everyone grew quiet and stared at her, some surprised, some angered, and the majority bewildered by the interruption. The new Grand Master of the Order, Shaak Ti, stepped forward.
"Padawan, this decision is not yours to make," she started to say.
Siri cut her off before she could continue. "With all due respect, Master, none of you understands Darth Vader like Obi-Wan does – he's been dealing with the man every day under your own orders, and he's learned a great deal about him as a result. Obi-Wan states that he himself provoked the fight; it wasn't Vader's fault. He wants to plead his case to you when he's well enough to leave the med bay. In the meantime, Vader is to remain unharmed."
"Do you think we take demands from you? From a Padawan?" one of the Alliance council members demanded.
Siri felt her blood boil, and she immediately disregarded any Jedi restraint, stepping aggressively towards the man in question. "Listen to me you pathetic fool – I've sacrificed more than you could ever imagine for the Alliance. I was a spy for you people before I ever met up with the Jedi, I lost everyone but my husband to the Empire, to Darth Vader himself, so don't you dare assume you know better than me."
The combination of her vehement words and threatening posture seemed to cow the man into submission, and Bail Organa finally spoke up.
"Siri, you more than anyone realize how dangerous it is to keep Darth Vader alive at this point. He attacked the only man who seemed able to stop him." Bail shook his head. "We cannot put any more lives at risk."
The man's calmer argument helped settle Siri's temper, and she hastily tried to regain her composure. Taking a deep breath, she mentally recited the Code and said more evenly, "You are right; I recognize the threat this presents… but I also have faith in Obi-Wan's judgment, and he insists that we should keep Vader alive."
One of the other Jedi Masters intoned, "Don't let your attachment to your husband cloud your judgment."
"Our judgement kept us and many others alive long before your rule of non-attachment entered our lives," Siri replied curtly, temporarily forgetting that she was supposed to be the level headed one in this group. Blast it, focus. "I'm not letting my emotions cloud anything; I trust Obi-Wan to make the most logical and reasonable decision. Sometimes important matters require some degree of risk."
"Is this part of your idea of making him a Jedi?" the irritating Master looked at Qui-Gon sharply.
"My Padawans are capable of making their own decisions on the matter without my approval or insistence," Qui-Gon replied calmly. "I will let the Councils decide Darth Vader's fate."
"We said that Vader was in the Jedi's care, but if he caused one more incident we'd kill him," one of the Rebel generals argued.
"The Jedi will relinquish their custody of Lord Vader since we were unable to keep him under control," Master Ti said, looking pointedly at Bail. "We leave the matter in your hands."
Siri's gut churned uneasily. This wasn't promising. She tried to plead her case again when Bail held up a hand. "Darth Vader is a serious threat… but he is also our best asset. I propose that we give Commander Kenobi one week to get valuable information from him; if Vader complies, then we can reconvene to discuss his fate at that point."
The other members of the Alliance Council seemed hesitant to agree, but they didn't offer up much argument against it, either; Bail was one of the founding members, and his word held more clout than any of them. The general looked frustrated, but he didn't speak. Eventually, a majority agreed to the terms, and Siri felt some tension in her stomach release only to tighten in her chest. She didn't see how this would end well, but she certainly hoped Obi-Wan could manage a miracle and finally get Vader to cooperate.
"Then we're in accord," Bail nodded and faced Siri. "Do you agree to the terms?"
Siri bowed. "Yes. I'll inform Obi-Wan."
With another bow to Qui-Gon and Master Ti, Siri left the room, heading back to the medical bay. She wouldn't tell Obi-Wan until he awoke, but… blast, this was such a mess.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Obi-Wan…" she muttered.
Padmé sighed as she watched the slaves working in the kitchen. The party was tonight; apparently Lady Tarkin had assumed Padmé would be kept out of sight by Crix. She shuddered at the thought of it. Everyone had planned out the event as necessary; Numa and another woman named Rane would keep an eye out for Lady Tarkin and warn Padmé if she was coming; after all, there was no way the woman could be with all her guests at once. Padmé just had to find an area where the head of the house wasn't around, and then she could make herself as visible as she needed to.
Of course the only problem now was Crix himself. They'd still debated how they would distract him; as busy as he would be ensuring the party was planned, he was still expecting… well, she wouldn't think about that. They just had to find a way to distract him.
As Padmé debated the matter, she was approached by the teenage Togruta, who was the only one yet to introduce herself. "I have an idea about Crix."
Padmé faced her. "What is it?"
"Choose me to be his mate."
Padmé blanched. "What?!"
"It's okay," the teenager smiled. "I'll take good care of him. You just worry about making sure those rumors start flying."
"I—no, I'm not putting you in that position," Padmé argued. She'd said she wouldn't do that to any of them, let alone a youngling.
The teenager sighed somewhat irritably. "Look, just trust me, okay? I know what I'm doing."
Padmé was going to argue further when Crix himself finally arrived. He looked at Padmé hesitantly, if not expectantly, and said nothing, waiting for her to speak first. The teenager stepped forward, and Padmé hastily did so as well to stop her.
"I'm your mate," the teenager immediately said.
"No, she's—" Padmé intervened, but the girl interrupted her.
"She chose me. Let's just go and get this over with."
Was she completely out of her mind? Padmé didn't see how this could end well. It was obvious earlier that the girl hadn't wanted to be involved in that, so she no doubt had some idea to distract Crix, but Padmé wasn't really convinced the teenager would be able to pull it off.
Even Crix seemed surprised, and he looked all the more reluctant. He took a small step back as the girl walked towards him. Padmé was about to go after her when Numa arrived and tapped her on the shoulder, catching her attention temporarily.
"The guests are arriving," she said softly. "We should get ready."
Padmé glanced back in the direction of Crix and the girl and they were gone. She felt her stomach knot. Rushing to the slave quarters, she saw that it was empty. Where the blazes had they gone? Padmé searched the entire basement, desperate to find them, but she had no luck whatsoever, making her even more worried. Eventually, Numa returned to tell her that all the guests were there and wandering the compound.
It was time to do her part.
Sighing, Padmé dressed herself in a servant's gown. She grabbed some refreshments from the kitchen and made her way upstairs. She hoped the girl was alright. She hoped this plan actually worked. Numa walked just ahead of her, keeping an eye out for Lady Tarkin. Padmé took a deep breath as Numa gave the all clear sign.
Wandering out with the tray of refreshments, Padmé glanced at the clientele. Most of the faces were foreign to her, but as she held the tray out to the guests she noticed that she was receiving quite a bit of attention.
"Padmé?" a voice hissed behind her.
Turning, Padmé saw Rekk, the very representative she had rescued from CC4 with Vader an eternity ago. Her jaw dropped. "Rekk? What are you doing here?"
"I—I thought you were dead!" Rekk whispered, his eyes wide. "You're—why are you—how—"
"I'm being held prisoner," she explained quietly.
Rekk looked around wildly and then dragged Padmé into the shadows. "Prisoner? What? The Empire said the Rebels killed you! What's going on?"
"It's… complicated." Padmé said truthfully. Rekk had never known that Padmé was a member of the Rebel Alliance, so she couldn't exactly go into the full explanation, but he'd always been a friend. She put a hand on his shoulder, her tone filled with urgency. "You have to help me, Rekk. Can you get in contact with Rep. Naberrie? Is… is he here?"
The very thought of her brother being on the same planet as her let alone in the same house made her knees go weak. Please say yes, Rekk…
Rekk shook his head, and Padmé felt her heart plummet. "Rep. Naberrie retired after your… well, death. I… I haven't seen him in almost a month. He was replaced, you were replaced… the only reason I'm here is to try to ingratiate myself to the new senator, who apparently wants to be best friends with the Tarkins now that the grand moff is the emperor regent."
Padmé gawked at him. "He's what?! What happened to Palpatine?!"
Rekk stared at her in disbelief. "You… you don't know?" Then he shook his head. "Right, of course you don't. Palpatine's dead."
Palpatine was dead?! How much had she missed in almost a month?! How had it almost been a month, anyway?! This… this was amazing news, this was unbelievable. This was world shattering.
Her family… Vader… what had happened to them in such a long span of time? How were they holding up?
Blast it, why was she even worrying about Vader?
Padmé shook her head. "I… can't believe it. How did Tarkin get in charge, though? Isn't Darth Vader second-in-command? Was he not the legal heir?"
"Darth Vader is indisposed," Rekk answered uncertainly. "At least that's what they told the senate. I haven't heard anything else about him. Tarkin is in charge until Vader can take over."
Indisposed? What did that mean? Had Palpatine's death devastated him that much? Considering how loyal he was to the man… oh gods. Oh gods.
Oh gods.
"When did Palpatine die?" Padmé asked breathlessly.
Rekk gazed somewhere beyond Padmé as he furrowed his brow and tried to remember. "About a week ago by now."
Padmé leaned against the wall, floored by this news, by everything that had no doubt occurred as a result of it. She shook her head to focus once more; she couldn't afford to think about it right now. "So you haven't seen Obi-Wan since my imprisonment? He just retired, though, right? No arrests, nothing? My family's fine, right? What about my handmaidens?"
"Cordé is dead," Rekk said sadly. "Siri and the new one were let go when the new senator came… or, well, they both resigned. The staff's entirely new. I haven't heard anything about arrests, though."
Padmé's heart ached at hearing this. Oh Cordé… what had happened to her? Why had she been killed?
Tarkin.
Padmé clenched her jaw, angered. Cordé had no doubt been used for her likeness to Padmé, to convince the galaxy that she truly had died. It sickened her to think about it.
"I can't believe this…" Rekk muttered, staring at her and garnering her attention. "This… was this all a power play somehow? You don't… well, you didn't know… but… why would they imprison you?"
"Like I said, long story," Padmé sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. "Rekk, please, you have to get in contact with Obi-Wan. You have to tell him that I'm alive, tell him where I am. You know how to reach him."
"I have his official contact information," Rekk shrugged worriedly. "But… I haven't heard anything from him or about him. I tried calling him after your… eh… funeral… but he wouldn't answer."
Padmé immediately grew tense and terrified. Did this have to do with Tarkin? Was he holding her entire family hostage? She'd thought maybe he simply was watching them; she knew they would be killed if she stepped noticeably out of line, but that didn't necessarily mean they'd imprisoned them.
This was such a mess. Who else could she get Rekk to contact? Could she ask him to investigate the matter with her family in her stead? Padmé thought of any other Rebel contacts she had on Imperial Center, but they were all gone; Iblis had been branded a traitor, Mothma had been killed, and she herself had freed Organa from an Imperial prison. There was no one.
"I'll try, Padmé," Rekk eventually said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll try to get in contact with him, or I'll try to reach your family or something."
Padmé grew a little nervous. "Be careful. Don't contact my family directly if you can; Obi-Wan is more… equipped to handle delicate matters like this. The rest of my family isn't. And they're no doubt in danger given my current position."
Wait. There was someone on Imperial Center who could help. "Do you know Senator Tlenden?"
Rekk furrowed his brow, turning the name in his mind. "Tlenden… he's the senator for the Tsograda Sector, right?"
"Yes," Padmé immediately nodded. "Tell him about my predicament. He'll know what to do. Just make sure nobody else realizes that you talked to him about me, okay?"
Rekk nodded uncertainly. "Okay… Padmé… really, what's going on?"
Padmé saw Numa waving madly in the distance. Lady Tarkin was coming. She hastily looked at Rekk once more. "I can't tell you right now. But don't talk to anybody about this except Tlenden, got it? Be safe."
With that, Padmé brushed past Rekk and rushed downstairs to the slave quarters once more, praying that everything would go well for once.
It was midnight. Imperial Center was as dark as it ever would be. The neon lights made Erwyna's eyes hurt a little, but she'd been here long enough to start adjusting to it. The other members of Éothen's squadron grumbled about the planet a little, though some complimented it, and they all grew silent as they neared their destination.
Erwyna glanced at Éothen. He'd taken the news fairly well, mainly because they'd immediately had an assignment to handle. Éothen always focused on the mission first; it was how they all survived. One couldn't be distracted by anything when one was constantly in a war. Most of the members of the squad had similar ways of managing stress: push it off until later and then inexplicably grow irritable over everything. That was how they all coped.
Returning her attention to the task at hand, Erwyna led the group as she finally reached the rendezvous point. It was here that they would meet with Odeki, who would guide them into Intelligence. From there they would handle the matter on their own.
A silhouette stood in the distance, and Erwyna's hand slid to her holstered blaster. "Oki?"
Using the alias given to her, she waited to see if Odeki would respond or if the silhouette was an enemy. A second after she'd spoken, the person moved into the light, revealing Odeki's nervous face.
"Did you get us an in?" she asked quietly.
Odeki nodded. "Yes. Just… stay quiet and inconspicuous, okay? I… this is crazy enough without… I mean… just be quiet. And do as I say. Okay?"
Erwyna refrained from rolling her eyes. The only person who could blow the operation would be Odeki himself with as anxious as he was acting.
Thoom.
Odeki hitched his breath slightly, his eyes widening. Erwyna jumped, and her skin crawled at the sound. She knew that sound, she'd grown up hearing it.
Sniper.
Gasping, Erwyna leapt back into the shadows as plasma splattered the concrete at her feet where she'd been standing a second ago. Odeki was down alongside five or her eight teammates. Éothen stumbled away with a teammate who was barely breathing. Erwyna glanced around for cover and found none, and she couldn't trace the source of the shots. Judging by the sound it was one of the particularly long ranged rifles. The sniper could be on any of the rooves in the area.
Erwyna locked eyes with Éothen and the two split up, running down different alleys. They'd find each other later. Right now they had to get away from the threat. Her heart raced, her mind whirling at what had just transpired within a span of five seconds, and she immediately shoved down the thought that her one way into Intelligence was dead alongside at least five of her teammates.
As the team scattered in all directions, Cipher 8 inched away from the edge of the rooftop where she'd been perched for the past hour. Rising, she activated probe droids to search the vicinity and piloted her speeder to a different sector of the city, placing her sniper rifle beside her.
Mission accomplished.
Tarkin was irritable as soon as his feet touched the duracrete. The safe path that had been planned out by Intelligence had taken twice as long as he'd wanted. He needed to get back to the palace and ensure they retook the Hydian Way and eliminated Rhaegon entirely. He would not suffer the embarrassment of losing his own sector to the man.
Still, he had to meet with his spy first, who had told him to meet with her at the Galaxies Opera House. Technically she'd mentioned a ballet from the previous night, local time, but he assumed she'd know that he wouldn't arrive that quickly considering Intelligence was the one who had planned the route.
The opera house was empty for the most part; a show was in progress, no doubt coming close to ending given the late hour. A woman dressed as an attendant approached him, but he immediately recognized the small features of his spy. Her narrow brown eyes watched him keenly as she tipped her head in acknowledgement.
Tarkin entered the building, closing the distance between them and getting away from the single guard standing by his shuttle. "Report."
"I found the reason for the enemy's attack en route to Naboo," she said immediately. "There was a leak in Intelligence; the Rebels had a mechanic in their service. He's been eliminated."
Tarkin felt his irritation grow. How could they have allowed this to happen? "Do you know how much information he sent to the Rebels?"
"It's unclear, sir," his spy replied. "He was meeting with a group of people tonight, but they're being handled as we speak. We plan to capture one and find out how much they know. I traced the informant's transmissions and found the location of the new Rebel base. They're on Hoth."
Tarkin felt his heartrate jump. Finally. "And what of Lord Vader?"
"We've heard nothing to indicate his presence, sir, but there's been no chatter about his death, either. It's unclear."
Tarkin nodded, taking it all in. They had to act on this immediately. Rhaegon could wait. "You've done well. I have one more assignment for you."
His spy watched him expectantly.
"I will send all available resources to destroy that base. I want you to accompany the fleet, and I want you to find him. Bring him to me alive."
His spy bowed. "At once, sir."
Tarkin left immediately after, and told his pilot to get him to the palace as quickly as possible. He called all his allies on the way, and within fifteen minutes they were in the briefing room via hologram.
It was time to finally end this war. It was time to eradicate the Rebels.
It was time to bring Vader home.
Apologies for typos, I'm half conscious right now haha. Stories will start to converge, so there will be less jumping around between so many people. Get ready for another round on the roller coaster! ;)