HAPPY EASTER! :D
Now, to quote another author on this site...
*scurries out from under rock*
*apologetically leaves this chapter here*
*scurries back under rock*
It was particularly humid today. That had to be the reason Padmé was shivering so much. Either that or the fear and anticipation simultaneously freezing and thawing her blood. It had been twenty-four hours since the party; by now Rekk should be back on Imperial Center speaking with Senator Tlenden, or maybe—gods willing—even with Obi-Wan. It was just a waiting game now.
Padmé understood the importance of patience, but she hated having nothing to do. She'd been hiding in the basement of the estate around the kitchen and slave quarters ever since last night, though she knew she'd eventually have to make an appearance and grovel in front of Lady Tarkin for a while to keep the woman happy. But that was all she'd be doing: groveling and waiting. It didn't help that the teenager who had practically thrown herself at Crix to keep him away from Padmé was nowhere to be found… nor Crix himself, for that matter. Padmé shivered again.
Eventually she took a deep breath and rose. Everyone had agreed that it was best for her to avoid Lady Tarkin for a while, but she knew she couldn't hide in the slave quarters forever, nor did she wish to sit around while everyone else had more work to do than they could handle. Wandering up the stairs, Padmé ended up in the library and glanced around nervously. Numa, who was dusting some furniture, caught sight of her and approached.
"What are you doing up here?" she whispered.
"I can't just sit around," Padmé shook her head. "Give me something to do. How can I help?"
Numa sighed, looking away. "Normally Crix is the one ordering us around; he's the head slave. We've just been tidying up as usual without him."
"Has Lady Tarkin asked any questions?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Numa replied. "I told her Crix was… busy doing what she'd ordered yesterday. She seemed pretty satisfied with that. Apparently I'm in charge until he's done. Have you seen him?"
Padmé shook her head. "Not since before the party."
"Well, I hope your plan works before the mistress starts asking more questions. Where in the blazes could they have gone?"
"I don't know… do you think she'll be okay?"
Numa laughed. "That girl will be fine so long as she keeps her mouth shut. She's a little arrogant. In the meantime, you can finish cleaning up in here while I check on everybody else."
Padmé nodded and took the duster from Numa and wandered over to the furniture she'd been cleaning. It was a small side table made of dark, rich wood beside a sofa. As Padmé tidied up the area, her mind wandered to what she'd discovered last night. She still couldn't believe it – Palpatine was dead. It was such a dream come true it was almost impossible to accept – she felt as if she'd imagined that Rekk had said it. She felt as if the galaxy should be different somehow, as if the stars should shine brighter, the Empire should immediately collapse… it was a silly thought, but Palpatine had been such a monster that his death had to positively show somehow throughout the galaxy.
Padmé scoffed. No wonder the Tarkins don't care about repercussions. Poor Cordé… she felt herself shudder as she thought of her friend. How many people would she lose to the Empire? How many people would die because of her? She shook her head, standing up straight with a heavy sigh.
Tarkin was the emperor regent. He was in charge of the Empire. Where in the blazes was Vader in all this? She couldn't imagine he was in his right mind anymore, not after losing his precious master.
Padmé squinted at nothing in particular, trying to remember what it was Tarkin had specifically wanted her to do with Vader. She hadn't really thought of it much since the confrontation; she'd mainly been focused on escaping… but what if Tarkin brought Vader before that happened? What state would he be in? Was he rebellious, depressed, murderous? Tarkin wanted her to keep him in line, to make Vader obey the new ruler – there had to have been a falling out between the two, then, right?
She shook her head. There were too many things she still didn't know. Where were Obi-Wan and Siri? Rekk hadn't been in contact with them since Padmé had been shot – they'd retired, he'd said. That likely meant they'd left with the Alliance, unless they'd just given up after they thought she'd died, but that was highly unlikely – Obi-Wan and Siri would never just give up; Obi-Wan would always fight for what he thought was right, and Siri at the very least would want to tear the Imperials' heads off for killing her friend. But what about the baby?
Padmé heard someone clear their throat and she quickly turned to see Numa again. "What is it?"
"Lady Tarkin wants to see you," Numa said apologetically. Padmé eyed her worriedly, but the Twi'lek shook her head. "It's got nothing to do with the party. She just wants you to wait on her; she's in the small sitting room in the east wing."
Wait on her? For what purpose if she…
Padmé sighed again. The woman just wanted to toy with her again, to show her who was in charge. This could be tiresome, but it was necessary. She had to ensure Lady Tarkin still thought she was in control.
"I'm on my way," she eventually said, putting the duster on the table. Numa nodded and took over cleaning.
As Padmé made her way to the east wing (after being pointed in the right direction), she took a closer look at the estate. It seemed so cold and isolated, making her feel even more entrapped. Nothing about this place felt like a home. The furniture was grand, but the place looked like a hotel – everything was pristine and sterile and just not lived in. It was half a wonder if the Tarkins actually lived here or just had the place as a status symbol. It was obvious the grand moff didn't live here.
Emperor Regent. Padmé shook her head, her mind still spinning at all the new realizations.
Padmé eventually found her way, entering a small room with cream colored walls, a large white carpet that covered most of the floor, a sizable window that let in the morning sunlight, a fireplace just opposite of it, and several chairs. One was occupied by the spiteful woman herself. Across from her was an open space where a quartet of musicians sat playing their instruments.
Lady Tarkin waved her over, and Padmé mentally prepared herself for the ordeal before going to the woman and leaning over, whispering, "You called, Mistress?"
"I require refreshment. Get me some water."
Padmé bowed and backed away, looking to see if there was any already prepared. Seeing that the room was bare, she headed back towards the kitchen, slightly annoyed that she had to walk all the way across the estate again. Well, at least it got her away from Tarkin for a few minutes.
The time alone let her mind wander to her predicament once more and what could be happening outside of Eriadu. Assuming Rekk had indeed already spoken to Tlenden, what was the senator doing now? If Obi-Wan was unavailable, how would he know his sister was alive? What about Siri?
Perhaps, somehow, Salkende still decided to help the Alliance. Perhaps, despite having lost his fiancée, Éothen convinced his mother to join the cause. If that were the case, then Tlenden would immediately tell Obi-Wan, right?
What if Salkende hadn't joined with the Alliance?
Padmé felt her chest grow tight as she grabbed a pitcher of water and a glass. She really hated drifting in all this uncertainty, but she hadn't had time to ask Rekk about much, and he wouldn't have known about the state of the Alliance anyway.
Returning to the sitting room, Padmé poured a glass of water for Lady Tarkin and paused just before offering it to her. The woman hadn't noticed her return yet, and she was gazing at the musicians, a distant look on her face. It almost looked lonely, and Padmé almost felt the smallest hint of pity. Almost. But she broke the moment, handing the glass to the woman, whose face hardened as soon as she recognized her presence, and Padmé stood in the corner, waiting on her and wondering what in the blazes was happening and how she wouldn't go insane in this place waiting for an opportunity.
She prayed everyone was alright.
Obi-Wan shifted slightly to ease pressure off his back. He wondered if perhaps the dull ache was what had awoken him; he felt stiff and sore all over. However, as he took a deep breath and tried to settle back to sleep, muffled sounds from elsewhere in the room caught his attention, and he slowly deduced what had actually woken him up.
Siri coughed harshly, bent over the small toilet provided for the secret guest quarters in the corner of the room. Obi-Wan dragged himself out of bed and shuffled over to her, wincing as he kneeled beside her.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Wiping her mouth, Siri grumbled, "Morning sickness. Nothing new."
Obi-Wan watched her a little worriedly, but she brushed him off. "I'm fine, Obi. Go back to sleep."
Glancing at the chronometer, he wondered if he really should at this point; they'd both been out for roughly two and a half hours. They would be arriving at whatever destination Al had chosen fairly soon, and heaven knows what Vader had been up to in that time, or how he and Al had been handling each other.
"I'll get you some water," he offered, rising and heading over to the hatch.
As Obi-Wan climbed down to the main level, the day's earlier events passed through his mind. Things had escalated fairly quickly and he hadn't had much time to think about it until now, but… Vader had defended them against Imperials. Obi-Wan already knew by now that Vader held no loyalty to the Empire, only the emperor, but somehow, seeing the man slice through stormtroopers for their sake was… strange and reassuring at once. And puzzling. What had changed from the time when Vader had nearly killed Obi-Wan during their first encounter at the base to now? Why was Vader bent on protecting him? Was it because he'd shown that he cared, despite Vader saying that was a weakness? Was the man just lying to himself?
Obi-Wan smiled to himself, pausing on the ladder. Perhaps that was a little obvious.
Once he stepped off the ladder Obi-Wan first entered the cockpit, sensing Al's presence there. The smuggler was lying underneath a console, pieces of machinery strewn everywhere. Obi-Wan cleared his throat so he wouldn't startle the man, but Al jumped nonetheless, ramming one of his cranial horns into the console.
"Ouch!" he yelped before sliding out to see who was there. "Oh, hey, Obi-Wan, good to see you're alright. Why'd you guys need the first aid kit?"
Obi-Wan looked over the poor man's partly burnt face worriedly. "I trust you used the kit on yourself once we went upstairs."
"I did," Al sighed. "You must have been exhausted if you didn't hear me yelping; it's never pleasant putting ointment on burns."
"I can imagine. Are you certain you're alright?"
"I'm fine, don't worry about it."
"And the ship?"
Al shook his head, leaning back. "She's a wreck, but she'll get us where we need to go."
Obi-Wan nodded, glancing out into the lounge, but from where he stood he couldn't see Vader. "Have you had any problems with our guest?"
Al huffed. "Thankfully, no. He's been busy living in his own world. He was pacing the lounge like someone waiting for something to happen, but he never acknowledged me when I tried talking to him, so I gave up. I think he's still in there."
"He is," Obi-Wan remarked, sensing the man's presence. It startled him a little as he realized how easily he could find the man through the Force. And speaking of which, the Force rippled with unease as he turned about and reentered the small lounge. Vader sat on the floor, his knees tucked under his chin, his lower back leaning against the couch. His eyes were glazed, staring at nothing in particular though his gaze was fixed on the table in front of him. After a moment, he closed them tightly, and he almost burrowed his face into his knees when some internal realization hit him and he opened his eyes a heartbeat later, his brow furrowing in frustration or confusion or something that Obi-Wan couldn't quite read. The Force twitched a little, but Vader tightened his entire body and it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.
Shielding. He was shielding. It was becoming noticeable now the more Obi-Wan lingered around him. The cold that he had always felt with the young man wasn't quite the cold he'd experienced whenever he'd been near Palpatine. It was a slight difference, unnoticeable earlier when he'd had little training, but the subtlety of it had become more apparent. During his time in the senate, the few instances he'd been near the emperor, Obi-Wan had always felt a cold chill enter him, but it was more like the feverish shivers one would get when one was ill. With Vader it was different, like he was literally in the vacuum of space. Palpatine filled him like a sickness, but Vader emptied him… he emptied everything.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked softly.
Vader relaxed his body, turning his head to look at Obi-Wan. His eyes glistened with so many different emotions that he wouldn't—couldn't, probably—articulate, but the Force remained frozen, as did the rest of his body.
As usual, Obi-Wan would have to lead the conversation. It was tiring, but it was habitual by now, so he didn't feel as exhausted about it as last time. "Thank you for helping us… for saving us. We owe you our lives."
This statement seemed to confuse the man, but he didn't speak. Obi-Wan shifted slightly, not knowing what else to say, so he tipped his head and made his way to the kitchenette to get the water he'd promised Siri.
Returning to the lounge with a glass in his hand, he asked, "Do you want anything to drink?"
"I don't want anything."
He does say that fairly consistently, doesn't he? Obi-Wan mused, getting ready to go to Siri, when something nagged him.
"I feel nothing, I am nothing, don't you dare suggest otherwise!"
Vader didn't just deny his emotions… he denied his own personhood. He…
"Darth Vader was raised to think he was nothing more than a tool for the emperor. He has no opinion of himself, and I don't mean he thinks little of himself or prioritizes differently, I mean he literally has no opinion of himself."
Obi-Wan recalled reporting something similar to that to Mace Windu before the Jedi Master had been killed in battle, but it had never quite sunk in… or perhaps he simply hadn't believed it. He'd still been under the impression that Padmé had been biased, clouded by her emotions concerning the young man.
It was perhaps one of the worst feelings to realize that she'd been absolutely right. It was why Vader felt nothing, why he wanted nothing… because, in his own eyes, he literally was nothing.
Blast, how had the boy not committed suicide by this point? Had he just not seen the opportunity? Was he looking for it now, hiding his needs from Obi-Wan? Was he actually not thirsty right now, or was he just denying it? Was he hungry? Hurt?
If he wanted to die, why had he helped Obi-Wan?
"Why did you help us?" Obi-Wan voiced his last question.
Vader's eyes slowly traced their way down to his hands, clasped carelessly in front of him, and he slid his legs under the table. "I… don't know. You told me to."
Obi-Wan walked over to the spot across from him on the other side of the table, sitting on his knees and placing the glass of water in front of him. "Is that all? What about back in the cell, when I was hurt? I didn't ask for your help then."
"Did you want to die?" Vader nearly snapped, stiffening.
Obi-Wan smiled gently. "They wouldn't have killed me."
"I'll bear that in mind," Vader looked away, suddenly angry.
"I'm not criticizing you for it," Obi-Wan remarked. "I'm only pointing out that there was no threat to me."
"They hurt you."
"And that matters to you?"
Vader locked eyes with him, his face flushed with anger and his body tight. He looked like he wanted to say so many things, but he just didn't know how to. The question was simply phrased, was simply asking if the man cared or not… but it was apparently too difficult for him to answer. He himself didn't know the answer. Previously that would have been an answer enough to Obi-Wan – if he hadn't known, then he didn't care. But now… now it just made too much sense. Depressingly too much sense.
After all, how could a boy know about his own emotions if he'd been beaten into thinking he didn't have any?
Obi-Wan didn't even know how to approach this. He supposed he just had to keep Vader alive for now; he had to make sure the man didn't hurt himself. "Are you sure you're not thirsty?"
Vader's features softened, relieved at the change in the subject. He shrugged.
"I'll get you some water." Obi-Wan smiled and stood. When he returned with the drink, Vader accepted the glass mutely and sipped sparingly. Obi-Wan watched him for a moment before heading back up to the hidden level. Siri sat on the lower bunk with her face in her hands.
"Here," Obi-Wan offered as she glanced at him, sensing his approach. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she sighed, taking the glass. "I trust Vader and Al haven't killed each other downstairs?"
"There's no carnage, I assure you," Obi-Wan smirked before growing serious once more. "I'm worried about Vader."
Siri stared at him, bemused.
"He's emptier than people with clinical depression," Obi-Wan said with a hint of dry humor.
"I thought you said he wasn't empty," Siri noted.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I was wrong. Most people in his state would have taken the Imperial invasion as an opportunity to either escape or get themselves killed."
"I was going to ask you about that," Siri remarked. "Why did he help us?"
"He doesn't know."
"He doesn't know?"
"Can you really expect him to know? He doesn't understand how being a normal person even works, how living works. He just exists. He just obeys." Obi-Wan stroked his beard worriedly. "I don't know what to do with him."
"What to do with him?"
"What will happen when we rendezvous with the Alliance? They'll put him back in a cell, they'll expect me to interrogate him." Obi-Wan's hand slid up to rub his eyes tiredly. "I don't want to be put back in that position. We don't need to be put back in that position."
Siri furrowed her brow. "What are you suggesting, then?"
"I don't know. I just don't want things to return to how they were before the attack. We… need to look out for him."
Siri's expression morphed slightly, both a little disbelieving and concerned. Before she could say anything, though, they both heard the hyperdrive disengage and the engines roared to life. The two immediately climbed down the ladder to go to the cockpit. Once they reached the lounge, Obi-Wan noted that Vader hadn't moved, though he was staring in the direction of the cockpit.
Siri led the way, and once they entered, she immediately asked Al, "Where are we?"
Obi-Wan glanced out the viewport and saw a world that, from what he could see, had several island chains, two large continents, an expansive desert, and ice caps.
"This is Ferrasco," Al answered.
"Isn't that a refugee world?" Obi-Wan noted.
Al nodded. "Which makes it all the easier for us to blend in. It's also in the Tsograda Sector, so we're close to one of the rendezvous points, Salkende. Once we finish repairing the ship we can head over there."
Siri glanced at Obi-Wan hesitantly before returning her attention to Al. "Have you already contacted the Alliance?"
"I can't," Al grumbled. "The Beauty's communications were knocked out in the battle, and I can't fix it."
"I thought you were fixing the ship after we got into hyperspace."
"I've been trying to repair the engines," Al sighed. "They're a mess, and the best time to work on them was while the hyperdrive was active."
"Anything else damaged?"
"Part of the navicomputer's fried," Al muttered darkly. "As soon as I realized it that became the priority; it was part of this console that blew up."
"But we got here…" Siri noted confusedly. "So the navicomputer works, right?"
"For hyperspace coordinates, sure," Al replied. "But not for other things, like docking."
"You dock manually, Al."
"It's relatively easy to dock up with a ship floating in space," Al explained. "It's not easy to dock with an orbital station."
"Al, you're not making any sense," Siri shook her head. "I assume you intend to land on Ferrasco so we can fix the ship, right? You can't do that with what you have?"
"The thrusters couldn't handle that kind of deceleration," Al sighed heavily. "We'd have to go in hot, we'd have to have a controlled crash. But Ferrasco is too populated, and even if that weren't the case, they have such a massive influx of refugees that they regulate intake. Everyone going to the planet has to go through the orbital station."
"But you just said the navicomputer can't calculate that," Obi-Wan pointed out worriedly.
"Yeah, that's the current dilemma," Al leaned against his seat.
"So what are we going to do? Won't the planet pull us in and we'll crash anyway?" Siri asked. "Can you fix the navicomputer before that?"
"If I can get the Beauty into orbit around the planet we can avoid that, but I have to calculate it just right or we'll circle right on in."
"Perhaps Vader could help?" Obi-Wan offered, garnering Al and Siri's attention. He shrugged. "He seemed fairly capable with the ship earlier."
Al narrowed his eyes. "You want him to touch my ship?"
"He did save our lives earlier by touching your ship," Obi-Wan reminded him mildly.
"Vader is a whole different level of crazy that I don't need right now," Al shook his head. "I'm grateful he saved our skin, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a couple molecules short of a Dathomiri steroid elixir."
"He's never not been able to function," Obi-Wan noted. "Apart from the trauma of losing his master, he's always hidden his insanity fairly well. He can still fix this ship. He was fixing it earlier."
"We don't have time to fix the navicomputer – we need to calculate our trajectory," Al argued.
Unbeknownst to both men, Siri had exited the cockpit to get Vader's attention, thinking that Obi-Wan's idea, though not her favorite, was still reasonable.
Darth Vader sat cross legged on the floor between the sofa and the small table in the lounge. He was staring at his hands on his lap, but he sensed Siri's scrutiny and raised his gaze to meet hers.
Siri sensed out into the Force, but she couldn't decipher what she found. She simply felt the same cold as always, making her shiver until the warmth of her husband's and baby's presences filled her. In the meantime, Vader simply continued to watch her, unmoving. It made her all the more uneasy.
"You know, you could try to act like a normal person on occasion," she remarked before getting to the point. Her words brought his eyebrows together in what appeared to be bemusement. "We've got a bit of a problem on the bridge. You willing to help us resolve it?"
Vader blinked at her, his brow furrowing further, and the Force twitched slightly.
Siri sighed, not bothering to question his reaction. Instead, she simply elaborated, "The navicomputer's a little fried; we can't dock with the orbital station. We need your help so we don't crash."
Vader watched her for a second longer before standing and walking towards her. Despite knowing he was only approaching at her request, Siri still felt her body stiffen a little bit; it was hard not to be nervous around the man, even after he'd saved them. She'd been too tired earlier to really care much, and even now her mind was telling her that he wasn't going to cause trouble, but… it just seemed too unbelievable. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and then released them. It was obvious to her by now that since he'd established some sort of connection with at least Obi-Wan, he wasn't going to harm them so long as they didn't push him.
But why? Was it simply because he had no one else to turn to, nothing else to do?
Siri felt her chest tighten slightly and she sighed to release the tension. Honestly, that was likely the case. She herself had said he was empty enough for that to be possible. It was just… unbelievable.
Vader brushed past her, unaware of her musings. Instead, he entered the cockpit, and Siri followed silently, wondering how Al would react.
Obi-Wan quickly took charge of the scenario before the poor smuggler could speak. "Vader, good, you can help us. Al has to calculate our trajectory without the navicomputer."
"Are we landing on the planet?" Vader asked.
Al's gaze flitted between Obi-Wan and Vader, a slightly irritated expression on his face before he sighed in resignation. "No, that's not allowed. We have to try to avoid that or we'll attract more attention than necessary. We have to find a way to dock with their orbital station."
"Figure out their orbit."
"Thanks, genius," Al snapped. "I would have never guessed that. Any suggestions on how I do that?"
"Make contact with the orbital station."
"Our communications are down," Obi-Wan piped in, his voice low and laced with anxiety as the realization struck him and Siri that they were trapped in a ship accelerating towards a planet with no mechanical assistance to stop its crash. Siri sensed him try to release his concern, but it didn't quite work, and she found herself sighing. It wasn't surprising; Obi-Wan didn't particularly like flying, especially when things weren't going the way they were supposed to.
Vader gazed out through the viewport, staring at Ferrasco. Then he looked back at Al. "We can't dock with the station if we don't know its orbit, and it's physically impossible to determine it by just looking at it. Have you gotten us into orbit yet?"
"Any ideas how to do that?" Al waved his hands somewhat frantically. "Without the navicomputer I could give us too much thrust or not enough and we'll either blow by the planet, gaining gravitational energy and sling-shooting us further into space, or we'll nose dive right into it!"
"Why didn't you fix the navicomputer before the ship exited hyperspace?"
Al's dark face flushed. "You think I haven't been working on it?! I did everything I could, we have neither the parts nor the time to do any more to it!"
Vader looked over the console as Al spoke, his fingers tracing wires and buttons, his eyes glazing over. His mouth tightened almost imperceptibly as he examined everything, and he eventually exhaled slowly through his nose, pulling away. He stood, silent and still, for almost a solid minute before Siri frantically looked at Ferrasco steadily growing larger through the viewport. "Well?"
Vader looked at Al pointedly. Al stared back at him, not quite understanding what he was doing. Siri tried to interpret his body language or some sort of indication in the Force, but she couldn't, and the urgency of the situation was quickly making her impatient.
Obi-Wan, however, seemed to catch on. "You want Al to move? You're going to pilot?"
Vader eyed Obi-Wan and then nodded. Al stiffened. "What?"
"Al, let him do it," Siri said a little loudly, staring at the planet growing ever closer.
The smuggler sighed heavily and rose out of his seat, grumbling, "It's my own blasted ship and I don't get a say about who flies her…"
Vader sat slowly, glossing over the controls and then closing his eyes. Siri stiffened slightly. "You going to start piloting anytime soon?"
Obi-Wan turned his head slightly, and Siri knew he was giving her one of those have patience looks. Her rattled nerves, however, were soon soothed when she sensed a swelling in the Force, like warm water filling the cockpit and buoying everyone in it. Siri felt impossibly light, dazed, calm, and empowered all at once. Vader slowly reached his hands to the steering controls and started to move the ship, his eyes staring straight out into the viewport, ignoring any information from the consoles around him. Al shifted, unnerved, but Obi-Wan and Siri were too blindsided by the sudden surge of power in the Force to really do much.
Ferrasco steadily slid to the left side of the viewport as Vader guided the Beauty into a wide orbit, his right hand moving between the controls for the engines and the thrusters, perfecting the ship's trajectory. He angled the Beauty so the planet started to move upwards into the top left corner of the viewport.
Closing his eyes once more, the Sith leaned forward slightly, pushing the ship ahead a little bit. The engines grew louder and then dimmer a moment later. The Invariant Beauty transitioned smoothly until a small blip came into view just ahead.
"The orbital station," Siri breathed, pointing it out.
"We're not in a synchronous orbit," Al noted a little worriedly.
"Call the station with your comlink," Vader ordered softly. "I'll get us close enough for you to be in range."
"You can't visualize that kind of distance," Al looked at him in alarm. "We could crash into them!"
Obi-Wan put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Just trust him, Al."
Biting his lip, Al grabbed his comlink and waited for them to approach the station. Vader watched the station carefully, his hands moving the controls minutely. The ship decelerated and shuddered slightly as one of the thrusters gave out, an alarm blaring in protest. Obi-Wan and Siri looked at each other worriedly, but the Force never wavered. Vader registered the noise, glancing at the console, and then compensated accordingly.
Eventually Al started to try every frequency available to reach the station. The Beauty got so close to the station that Siri could practically see the people through the windows. She felt her body tense.
"Vader…" Obi-Wan muttered warningly, his hand clamping on the pilot's chair, his knuckles white.
The proximity also caught the orbital station's attention, and Al finally managed to get through to them and relay their situation. He hastily jotted down the information that the navicomputer would typically figure out on its own and then told the station to stand by.
"Now what?" Siri asked him.
"Well, we know their radius from the planet and their speed," Al sighed, scratching his head and looking over what he wrote. "From there we could at least deduce what kind of orbit we'll need. Trying to get into that orbit is another matter, though."
"Blast, this is why I hate flying," Obi-Wan muttered softly, looking away.
Vader eased the Beauty into an orbit of her own and then stood to face them. "Solve for their orbit and I can match it."
"How?"
"Two reverse thrusts at the right time will get us into a lower orbit," Vader explained. "From there we can dock."
Siri nodded and then looked at Al. "Well, Al, work your math magic."
The smuggler blew out a breath and took his data to the copilot's seat, plopping into it and poring over everything before scribbling madly. Obi-Wan quietly approached Vader, who had resumed his spot in the pilot's chair, gazing out the viewport. Siri looked between the men and leaned against the wall. It was strange seeing Vader take part in a seemingly peaceful scene – stranger still that it was only peaceful because he had just saved them from possibly crashing onto the planet's surface. Though she supposed she shouldn't be too surprised by it by now – this was the third time in nearly just as many hours that he'd saved their lives.
She just wished she knew why. And she wished she felt a little more from the hasty transition Obi-Wan was making from being distant to pitying to downright concerned for the Imperial. Not that Siri didn't feel some degree of pity for the man – it was beginning to grow disturbingly understandable why he was the way he was (but did that excuse what he was, what he'd done?)… it was just a lot to accept in such a short amount of time. For heaven's sake, Vader had beaten Obi-Wan just over a week ago. What would stop his emotions from spiraling in another direction, leading to him severing all connection to them or possibly even killing them? He'd been attached to Padmé, after all, and had still killed her.
As Siri pondered these matters, Obi-Wan tried to engage in conversation with Vader. "Thank you for your help."
Vader stared at him.
"Does no one ever thank you?" Obi-Wan asked, fairly certain he already knew the answer.
"Why would they?"
Well, that wasn't quite the response he was expecting, but it was actually better; at least Vader was saying more than yes or no. "To show gratitude and appreciation."
"Why would they do that?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He felt like he was talking to a youngling who was at the stage of development when they asked why to every single remark. Not that this routine was anything new. "When someone goes out of their way to do something for you, you acknowledge that effort with gratitude."
Vader scrunched his nose slightly. "People aren't expected to do their duties? Imperials are."
"There's a difference between doing your duty and doing a kindness," Obi-Wan tried to explain, though he could sense his words were slamming into Vader's thick skull, leaving the man confused.
"You do nothing but your duty." Vader remarked.
"So if I saved your life, you wouldn't thank me?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
"Such a hypothetical situation is irrelevant."
"Why?" Obi-Wan smiled, happy to flip the question on the Imperial.
"You wouldn't save me."
Obi-Wan jumped, feeling like he'd been smacked.
"Got it!" Al shouted, rushing over to them and showing Vader.
Vader scanned the information and went to a console that wasn't damaged, inputting the information.
"What are you doing?" Siri asked. "Isn't the navicomputer broken?"
"He's simulating the orbit," Al explained, watching a holographic image of a planet appear in blue while a red hologram traced an orbital pattern around it.
Vader examined the flight path silently for a minute and then nodded. Then he looked to Al. "It would be best if no more thrusters burned out. Be prepared to fix any if that should happen."
Al nodded, locking eyes with Obi-Wan and Siri briefly before exiting the cockpit. As the Imperial took a deep breath and reached for the controls, Obi-Wan's mind whirled from his statement. Vader thought he wouldn't save him? Did he have that little faith in Obi-Wan? Did he have that little faith in everyone? Obi-Wan half wondered if the man expected even Palpatine or Padmé to save him if such a situation had presented itself.
Probably not.
Obi-Wan felt his stomach churn, and he grew a little queasy. He was uncomfortable handling extremely emotional situations, and he wasn't terrific at expressing his own feelings, but Force this was so messed up it was beyond sickening. Taking a deep breath, he tried to release his emotions and calm down, especially as he heard the thrusters fire up for their first deceleration burst.
The ship shuddered, but the thrusters held steady, and Obi-Wan felt himself move forward a little bit as the Invariant Beauty slowed its velocity slightly. Ferrasco grew larger in the viewport, though only marginally, and Obi-Wan crossed his arms as he watched.
Another thought occurred to him. You do nothing but your duty. So if that was Vader's motto on life, was he saving Obi-Wan, Siri, and Al out of duty? What duty? It certainly hadn't been his duty to save them a few days ago. If he had such little faith in Obi-Wan, then why did he expect…
Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head. He was thinking about this the wrong way, using the perspective of a healthy, sane person. He had to think about this from Vader's point of view. Obi-Wan had shown concern and compassion for a man who knew nothing of those emotions and thought of himself as a weapon for the emperor to wield and nothing more. It seemed apparent that Vader himself was aware that he had emotions, considering how vehemently he'd denied it. It was beyond bewildering; Vader was no idiot, so why would he lie about something like that? Why would he convince himself he had no emotions when it was so obvious that he did? Was that Palpatine's doing? Had the deceased emperor told Vader that he was a weapon, that he had no emotions, that feeling otherwise would mean he was defective?
Blast, he wished he had some sort of knowledge about psychology. Obi-Wan was certain doctors would at least be able to deduce more about the Imperial than he could.
The second deceleration was a little rougher than the first, but the Beauty eventually found her way into the correct orbit. The space station was slowly approaching, and Vader delicately guided the ship into a hangar after Al reentered and reestablished communication with the station's personnel.
As the engines powered down and Vader relaxed into his seat, the air grew cold again as he tightened his mental shields, and it was only at that point that Obi-Wan realized the man had lowered them slightly while flying. It was why everything had felt so strange, so powerful and focused and alive for a brief amount of time. But if that's how he actually felt, then his emotionlessness would be a façade… so what was Obi-Wan missing?
He sucked in a breath softly, his brows rising in pleasant surprise as it dawned on him and he looked at the Imperial. "You like flying, don't you?"
"I neither like nor dislike anything."
Obi-Wan smiled knowingly. Oh he liked it. There was no other reason the man would be so at ease and downright eager to fly the ship, why he so easily slipped into the Force and smoothly flew the ship to its destination.
"Come on, let's go," Al said, motioning towards the exit. "I've got a deck officer to bribe."
Siri laughed. "What for? We aren't allowed to land here? It's not like the Empire knows your ship."
"No, but we have to blend in with the refugees if we're going to get down to the planet's surface, and I don't want them asking questions." Al replied. "I mean, if I were the deck officer, I would wonder why people who are desperate and trying to seek sanctuary would come here when they have a ship that could get them anywhere."
"Not quite anywhere," Siri quipped, raising an eyebrow. "If I were the deck officer, I'd understand why we're here with the Beauty in such a state."
Al huffed irritably and left the cockpit. Siri glanced at Obi-Wan briefly. He could tell she was wondering how Vader would act; they were about to step onto public terrain surrounded by possibly thousands of refugees. Honestly, Obi-Wan didn't quite know what to expect, either, but if keeping him safe was somehow now Vader's duty, he figured the Imperial wouldn't make a fuss or attract attention. He smiled reassuringly at Siri, who sighed and nodded, following Al.
"Shall we?" he said to Vader, motioning towards the exit.
The sky glowed bright magenta as the simulated sunrise bathed Imperial Center in its light. Éothen dragged his feet in exhaustion, drained emotionally and physically. They were all gone. They were all gone. He'd lost his entire team, and, worst of all, he'd lost Erwyna.
Erwyna.
They'd known each other since they were younglings. They'd played together, fought together, laughed, cried, bled together. They'd loved each other. He'd loved her. No, he'd never said it out loud, but he'd never had to – they knew each other well enough. As Special Forces they couldn't do anything about it, couldn't act upon it, could barely acknowledge it, and with Éothen's requirement to continue his clan while Erwyna was still sworn to abstinence, he'd known that despite their feelings for each other, their duties would take them separate ways. But it hadn't affected their feelings for each other; it hadn't changed the fact that they would always love each other, even if they couldn't be together.
Éothen paused, leaning heavily against a wall, panting for air as if he'd run a kilometer, his heart racing, his mind panicking. He couldn't take this.
Remember the mission, Éothen. You have to find her, Erwyna's voice whispered in his mind. His heart nearly broke just hearing it.
The mission. He had to complete the mission. He had to find Padmé.
Éothen clenched his fists. All of this hell that had befallen him was because of her, because of her Alliance, because of the Empire. All of this was their fault. He shouldn't even bother finding her!
Snap out of it, moron. You think she ordered the assassination attempt on her life?
Éothen shook his head violently. Despite the logical argument, he still couldn't quite shake his anger. He had a right to be angry – all his life he'd always done his duty and what had it brought him in return? A war, a dead family, and now a dead team and best friend!
You still have Mom and Dad. You still have Salkende. You have to be there for them. And you have to get Padmé for their sake.
He felt his chest clench as the conflict of his bleeding heart and his mind nearly tore him apart. Just reminding himself that his remaining family and all of Salkende was relying on this fueled him, but his anger and hurt fought violently against it, and his chest ached. Eventually he shoved down most of the dizzying emotions with a gasp and a clench of the jaw. Finally regaining some semblance of strength, Éothen continued his agonizing trek until he snuck into Tlenden's apartment building. By the time he reached the man's apartment the sunlight was bright in the sky and the citizens of the upper levels were heading to work.
Éothen caught Tlenden at the entranceway, the door opening just as both were on either side of it. Tlenden jumped with a gasp, startled, and his expression turned to concern at Éothen's no doubt haggard appearance. He immediately grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him inside.
"Éothen, what happened?" Tlenden immediately asked, guiding him to the sofa. "What did you do? Where are the others?"
Éothen shook his head mutely.
"There's been an attack," Tlenden continued in a hushed tone, and Éothen's head shot up, locking eyes with the senator. "The Rebel base was destroyed by the Empire."
What?! Éothen rose to his feet—or at least attempted to before Tlenden pushed against his shoulders to prevent such an action.
"Most of the Rebels escaped, but they split up, and some are on Salkende as we speak. They're taking refuge there until they can find somewhere more suitable. Your mother wants you to return immediately." Tlenden explained.
"They're… on Salkende?" Éothen repeated, trying to absorb all this new information after everything he'd already endured all night.
"Yes. Éothen, what happened?" Tlenden repeated his earlier question, watching him worriedly.
Again, Éothen shook his head. He couldn't say it. Not yet.
"Perillinen?"
Hearing his title made something in him snap. He shot to his feet, kicking a small table over. "Don't call me that – I'm not fit to be a warlord's son, I—I don't want to be a warlord's son! I just want a normal blasted life where people I love aren't killed! Is that too much to ask for?!"
Tlenden watched him, his lips slowly parting as his features changed in dawning comprehension. "Erwyna's gone, isn't she?"
Éothen felt his energy drain out of him, and he sat heavily once more. "They're all gone."
A chime resounded gently, making Éothen jump, his mind in tatters by this point. He reached for his blaster, and Tlenden hastily snatched the weapon from his loose grip.
"It's the door. It's fine." He said reassuringly. "Stay here."
Éothen didn't bother to argue. The senator rose and walked to the front door, and when he opened it, Éothen caught sight of a pale green skinned man with brown eyes and thick black hair groomed perfectly. The man swallowed and smiled politely, his body a little tense.
"Senator Tlenden, my name is Representative Svoule of the Chommell Sector," he introduced himself with a bow. "I wish to speak with you about an urgent senate matter."
"It couldn't wait until the morning session? Or at least until I was in the senate building?" Tlenden nearly snapped, obviously wanting to get rid of the pesky politician so he could look after Éothen.
The representative flinched, but his eyes widened pleadingly. "It will only take a few minutes of your time, senator, and I know you are very busy once you get to the senate building. Please, just allow me to explain. May I come in?"
"You may talk to me at the senate building like any other professional," Tlenden replied curtly.
"The senator from Naboo sent me," the representative insisted.
"I'm not acquainted with the senator."
"But you are, Senator Tlenden. She said so."
Éothen stood. "What?"
The representative blinked, stuttering, "Forgive me, I meant to say he. I'm still adjusting to the change."
The knot in Éothen's stomach loosened slightly, and he felt irritated for being led astray. However, he then saw the representative look pointedly at Tlenden, and the senator seemed to catch some hidden meaning.
"Come on in, representative," he invited, stepping back.
The politician entered quickly, the door hissing shut behind him. He glanced nervously at Éothen.
"You can speak freely," Tlenden assured him. "Does this have to do with the late senator?"
"There's nothing late about her," the representative whispered, his voice strained from anxiety. "I—I saw her. She's alive."
Tlenden's eyes widened. "Alive? What are you talking about? I attended her funeral."
"He's right." Éothen immediately said, taking two large steps towards the man. "Where is she? Where did you see her?"
"Eriadu." Rep. Svoule answered. "She's being held prisoner by Lady Tarkin, the emperor regent's wife."
The emperor regent? What did he have to do with all this? Who was he? Éothen hadn't really cared who won the fight for the throne.
"Was there anything else you needed to tell us?" Tlenden inquired.
"What's her condition?" Éothen demanded.
"She's—she's alive, I just—I just said that. She's alive, she's okay, she's healthy. She's just a prisoner."
Éothen took a shaky breath. He found her. He found her. He took another shaky breath. He would get her back. For everyone he had lost, he would get her back.
Without saying another word, Éothen stormed out of the room, his mind whirling, but his thoughts eventually started to congeal and focus. He would take a diplomatic shuttle under Tlenden's name. He would go to Salkende to inform his mother, assess the situation with the Rebels, and then assemble a new team—he ignored the sting in his heart at thinking he had to replace his team—in order to break Padmé out of whatever prison held her.
He would get her back, and he'd destroy the Empire for what it had done. This was no longer an honorable fight, this was no longer a pact with an Alliance due to a marriage proposal. This was personal.
Glancing around, Obi-Wan was reminded strikingly of his days with the RRM. Refugees were everywhere, sitting on crates, the floor, standing in a corner, clutching possessions, relatives, anything. The air was filled with the buzz of nervous whispers, conversations with guards, and shuffling. Now attuned to the Force, Obi-Wan could sense obvious anxiety and hope, alongside so many other emotions that he couldn't decipher from the overwhelming influx. The thoughts of thousands of beings saturated the Force, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath, dulling the noise altogether.
Darth Vader shifted, and despite all the chaos in the Force, Obi-Wan sensed the young man's slight uneasiness. He sighed. Vader had been restless since they'd left the ship, his body steadily tensing as they'd been surrounded by more people.
"It's going to be all right," he assured him as they sat around and waited for Al to bribe some officer and let them get on the next shuttle. He felt guilty for forcing himself in front of others who so desperately needed to get down to the planet's surface, but the less time they spent here, the better it was for everyone's safety. They just needed to get some parts, lay low, and then leave. Al had said they'd head straight to Salkende and the delay should only be a day or so. Obi-Wan wasn't sure he liked that – a part of him wanted to tell Al to go anywhere but the rendezvous point. He tried to sift through his motivation, to figure out if somehow he was becoming attached to Vader or was just rationally concluding that it wouldn't be a good idea to go back to the Rebels just yet.
He hadn't quite figured out the answer.
Vader tensed even more, curling in on himself slightly. The Force rippled with more agitation. The young man had tried walking away from them when the crowd had thickened, and Obi-Wan had snatched him by the arm and insisted he stay close. Vader had been practically brooding since then.
"What's the matter?" Obi-Wan asked, wondering if he'd even get a response.
"I need to walk."
"You did that on the ship," Obi-Wan remarked, confused over the young man's obsession for walking.
"That wasn't enough."
"Why do you need to walk?"
Vader didn't speak. Obi-Wan examined the young man, waiting to see if he'd eventually say something – he'd learned to be patient when conversing with the Imperial. When several minutes had passed, he knew Vader wouldn't answer. Trying to change tactics, Obi-Wan prodded the Force, immediately distinguishing Siri's presence from the crowd, shortly followed by Al and Vader. He honed in on Vader specifically and continued to sense restlessness. This gave him an idea.
"Would you like to meditate?"
Vader stared at him abruptly, his brow furrowing in a mixture of disgust and surprise.
Obi-Wan had to laugh at his expression. "It isn't that bad."
"I don't meditate."
"Well there isn't much else you can do," Obi-Wan noted.
The Sith Lord grumbled incoherently.
"We can meditate together," Obi-Wan offered, sitting cross legged beside the young man. "I'll guide you through it."
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan quieted his mind and remembered the practices he'd learned from Qui-Gon. "Quiet your mind and let the Force flow freely through you."
"It's too loud."
Opening one eye, Obi-Wan glanced at the young man. "It takes a great amount of focus, but I know you can do it."
Vader looked at him somewhat disbelievingly. "It's too loud."
"How would your walk help, then? Isn't it too loud and crowded?"
"At least then I'm doing something."
"This is doing something," Obi-Wan noted, slightly unnerved at how much Vader sounded like Siri.
"I don't meditate."
Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "You could attempt something new. I'm fairly certain it's a harmless venture, and it'll pass the time."
Blowing out a resigned breath, Vader closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan attempted to reinitiate the meditation. He reached out to Vader in the Force, feeling the familiar icy wall, and he could practically feel the Sith physically flinch.
"Don't do that." Vader said sternly.
"Don't read your mind?" Obi-Wan smiled, amused. "Why Vader, I thought you were fairly open with that practice."
The Force simmered with annoyance.
"If I even do quiet my mind, what am I supposed to do next?" Vader asked, ignoring the remark.
"Listen to the Force. That is the purpose of quieting your mind: so you can hear it."
The irritation grew. "I already told you the Force doesn't speak."
"Ah, yes, because the emperor said so," Obi-Wan nodded, opening his eyes and belatedly recognizing the proverbial minefield he'd just entered. Taking a relaxing breath, he glanced at the Sith to see him staring at him.
Any remark Vader was going to make—assuming he would even comment at all—was interrupted when Al arrived hastily with Siri in tow. "Come on, the shuttle's boarding now and if we're not there they're leaving without us!"
Snapping back into focus, Obi-Wan rose to his feet and Vader followed suit. Siri threw Obi-Wan a questioning look as they hastened after Al and a shuttle came into view. He smiled reassuringly.
The trip down to Ferrasco's surface was hot, uncomfortable, and cramped. The Force was slightly overwhelming, and Obi-Wan found himself attempting to meditate as he stood squished in a corner, trying to calm down. Siri eyed the crowd carefully, though not suspiciously, and Al wrung his hands nervously. Vader, on the other hand, wriggled into a corner and crouched, taking a deep breath and boring a hole into the ground with his intense gaze. The shuttle ride was thankfully brief, and Obi-Wan hastily made his way to Vader before the young man could vanish into the crowd as people spilled out into the hangar.
The city where they'd landed, Firro, consisted of a group of semi-tropical islands that were connected by land during low tide and by plasma bridges at high tide. The warmth was welcome after freezing on Hoth for so long, and the breeze was most certainly a relief after being cramped with at least fifty other people in what was essentially the ship's cargo hold. The sun shone brightly, making Obi-Wan squint a little as he grabbed Vader by the arm.
The young man tensed at the touch, directing his gaze at the Jedi. Siri came up beside Obi-Wan, but Vader did not hold her attention. Instead, she was watching the crowd, her brow furrowing as they were guided outside of the hangar into a large area filled with incoming refugees from multiple shuttles.
"Okay, so all we have to do is get out of this area and buy the parts we need for the Beauty, and then we're set." Al remarked.
"I don't suppose you have much money left from all the negotiating that you've been doing?" Obi-Wan questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Al chuckled sheepishly. "Not really… but Siri let me borrow some money. Would you be so kind as to chip in?"
Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation, grabbing for his money pouch.
"It might not be that easy," Siri muttered in a somewhat worried tone. Sensing her concern, Obi-Wan followed her gaze and felt his stomach clench.
There were stormtroopers patrolling the area.
Al swore under his breath. "They can't be here for us, right?"
"How would they know?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
"That's impossible," Siri shook her head. "Unless they put a tracking device on the Beauty somehow… which they didn't, right, Al?"
"I don't see how they could've…" Al whispered as they entered the throng, lowering their heads so they could be inconspicuous.
"I don't sense any immediate danger," Obi-Wan commented, probing the Force somewhat nervously. As he did so, his grip loosened on Vader, and before he knew it the man was several steps ahead of him.
Al nearly panicked. "He's going to them!"
Siri tensed, her eyes widening, and Obi-Wan tried to call out to Vader. The Sith Lord was staring intently at a refugee, muttering and twitching his fingers. An instant later, the Force screamed in warning.
Leaping forward, Obi-Wan grabbed Vader's arm, making the man jump. He pulled Vader to himself, looking around to identify the threat that he'd sensed. Though Siri eyed Vader nervously, as if he were the source of the problem, Obi-Wan had instinctively grabbed Vader to keep him away from the threat, assuming it had been something else.
He hadn't been wrong. A refugee grabbed a stormtrooper's blaster and started shooting at random.
Pure pandemonium broke out. People screamed and ran in all directions, and Obi-Wan groaned in pain as he was shoved directly on his back wound. His knees buckled, and he felt Siri catch him. He sensed Al growing steadily more distant as the crowd separated him from the couple, but he was too dizzy from the sudden onset of pain to react to it. Siri gasped as she was almost knocked over, and she felt her arm get nearly torn out of its socket as someone dragged her and Obi-Wan out of the immediate vicinity.
Catching his breath, Obi-Wan raised his head to see Vader pulling them along. They ran down a main street, which was quickly filling with panicking civilians, and then they took a sharp turn into an alley. Stormtroopers and local security rushed by, keen on reaching the shooter. The Force was sharp, and it swirled through Obi-Wan and Siri as the two caught their breath and finally started to focus. Vader released them and leapt up, grabbing an escape ladder on the side of one of the buildings. Obi-Wan and Siri automatically followed him, climbing as quickly as they could as people ran around below them. Everything was insanely loud, giving Obi-Wan a headache and making his ears ring. His heart pounded in his chest and his back felt like it had been singed with a red-hot iron.
The climb up the ladder seemed to take an eternity, but eventually they made it to the roof. Catching his breath, Obi-Wan surveyed the scene below, but Vader apparently wasn't satisfied with their perch, running to the edge of the roof as Siri called out to him and leaping to the next building. Obi-Wan and Siri stared at him and then each other and then back at the gap between the buildings. It was fairly significant, though not unattainable even without the Force, but still…
Vader was nearly at the next building. Siri took off. Obi-Wan groaned and ran after both of them. Siri didn't hesitate as she reached the end of the building, and Obi-Wan sensed her grab onto the Force as she jumped, bending her legs deeply as she landed. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and accelerated his pace, ignoring the tingling sensation of oncoming panic at the idea of jumping between buildings.
Well, he had been training for this.
Grabbing the Force, Obi-Wan let it surge through his legs and increase the height of his jump so he could easily clear the alley below. He pushed off from the roof and felt weightless for an instant before quickly realizing he had to focus on landing next. Inhaling sharply, he allowed the force of the roof hitting his feet travel up to his legs, bending them and rolling on the ground. His back screamed in protest, but he didn't have much time to listen to it as he sensed Vader jump to another building.
"Come on, Obi!" Siri shouted as she attempted to keep up with the Sith.
Hissing, Obi-Wan leapt to his feet and followed his wife. The second jump wasn't as far as the first, and Vader apparently decided that was enough death defying feats for a while and had started to climb down another escape ladder. Siri was on his heels, and Obi-Wan increased his pace so he wouldn't lose sight of them. The Force continued to roar all around them, but the more he listened the more he realized they'd put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the shooting.
After reaching the ladder, Obi-Wan watched Vader release his grip on the rungs and just fall halfway to the ground, landing easily. Glancing around nervously he noted no one was around to witness the act. Instead of following his example, Siri simply put her hands and feet on the outer edges of the ladder and slid, and Obi-Wan sensed her pain as she scraped her hands doing so. Grimacing, he did the same. Vader didn't allow them a moment's rest to survey the damage they'd just done to their palms, instead running in another direction.
"Blast it!" Siri said breathlessly as she ran after him, and Obi-Wan didn't even have the energy to comment.
Entering a side street, Obi-Wan focused all his energy and attention on sensing his wife and the Sith Lord. He blearily noticed other people in his periphery, but he didn't pay much attention to them until he realized Vader was starting to slow his pace. Looking around he saw that the street was relatively abandoned save for a few people glancing around nervously. Once they finally reached a jog, Obi-Wan called out to Vader.
"Wait," he requested breathlessly.
Vader stopped, his eyes wide, his body tense, looking around constantly. The Force swirled around him like a storm and then seemed to surge outward as he extended his senses. Siri managed to catch her breath and walked over to her husband.
"You okay?" she asked.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll live. What in the blazes happened?"
"We need to move." Vader remarked, hastily making his way to another side street. Siri and Obi-Wan glanced at each other in exasperation and followed. He led them into an abandoned area, but Obi-Wan could see a main road ahead, filled with people bunching and talking, but no panic seemed to be evident.
The Sith Lord paused and faced them. "We required a distraction. Crowds are useful for that. I advise we lay low for a while; security will be heightened, making it difficult to leave the planet."
Siri gawked at him. "You… you caused that commotion?"
Obi-Wan quickly put the pieces together as he recalled what he'd seen just prior to the disaster. "You used a mind trick – do you have any idea how many people you've potentially hurt or killed?"
Vader stared at them nonchalantly. Obi-Wan sighed heavily; he didn't even know why he'd bothered asking such a question.
"Now what?" Siri groaned, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
Vader looked at her somewhat confusedly. "I… just said we need to lay low."
"Yes, thanks, I heard that," Siri snapped. "Where in the blazes is Al?"
"We lost him at the site of the shooting," Obi-Wan shook his head, reaching out into the Force worriedly, but it was still too chaotic to sense anyone familiar apart from those in the immediate vicinity.
"Let's call him, then," Siri grabbed her comlink.
"The com frequencies will be overused beyond measure," Obi-Wan pointed out tiredly. "You won't be able to reach anyone until the situation settles."
"You can't use your comlinks at all," Vader said. "Obi-Wan is correct that the frequencies are oversaturated right now, and once security controls the situation the Empire will lock the place down. They'll prevent transmissions except on public terminals, and all those communications will be monitored."
"Did you purposefully set this up so we'd be stuck here?" Siri looked at him sharply, putting her comlink away.
Vader shrugged. "I weighed all the possible options. This was the best one."
"The best one for what?"
"The best one to avoid the Empire."
Siri looked like she wanted to ask him why he would even do such a thing when she seemed to recall Obi-Wan's failed attempt to get a similar question answered. Sighing, she said, "So where to?"
"Al had said there are refugee complexes," Obi-Wan noted halfheartedly, his mind spinning from everything that had just happened. They were supposed to be just getting parts for the ship, and now they were stuck here.
Well. It meant they wouldn't be going to the rendezvous point anytime soon, at least. He just hoped Al was alright.
"Let's go," Siri sighed, leading the trio to the main road.
Their search for shelter took far longer than he'd hoped; they explored half the city, asking for help from many locals, and by sunset Obi-Wan finally saw a noticeable line of people being herded into an area that was filled with similarly styled rectangular buildings lined with windows on each floor. A small stand was in front of the grassy area between two of the six buildings, and there was a fair number of friendly looking people there. At least they could get directions. Pointing it out to Siri, the two headed that way (whilst dragging Vader, who had hesitated).
A Twi'lek woman noticed their approach and smiled warmly. "Can I help you?"
"We came to Firro from one of the refugee shuttles," Obi-Wan explained. "We were going to be assigned a location, but…"
The Twi'lek gasped. "Oh my goodness! The shooting? It's all over the news right now. You poor things, you probably didn't even get a chance to get your proper paperwork. Do you at least have the identification papers from the orbital station?"
Obi-Wan swallowed and shook his head. "We lost them in the chaos. We were lucky we didn't get trampled."
The Twi'lek pursed her lips and nodded understandingly. "That does make it difficult, but… we'll make it work somehow. We actually do have some space that hasn't been assigned to anyone yet, and we've gotten word from other sites that they're getting people in similar situations. I guess it'll just be a little chaotic over the next week or so. We'll get you a room, don't you worry. Is it just the three of you?"
"Yes. I'm Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan said, and motioning to Siri, he introduced her. "This is my wife, Mya."
Obi-Wan then glanced at Vader, his mind whirling as to how he would introduce him.
"This is his brother, Sheev," Siri said before either man could speak. "We're his guardians, he's not quite all there upstairs if you know what I mean."
Vader snapped his attention to Siri, opening his mouth to speak, when she abruptly stomped on his foot. The Imperial cringed.
Obi-Wan stared at his wife as well. Brother? Sheev?
The Twi'lek's features softened and she gazed at Vader sympathetically. "Oh you poor sweetheart; today must have been harrowing."
Vader's expression grew sour.
"I'm afraid I can only give one room per family, and this building used to be a dorm for the local university, so it'll be cramped," the Twi'lek sighed.
"We appreciate anything you could provide," Obi-Wan assured her. "It won't be a problem."
The woman smiled. "All right. I'll write down your names and we'll sort out the proper paperwork as things settle. I'll get you keys to the room and access to the building. It's going to be Sohjon, at the top of the hill, on the second floor."
As the woman got the necessary items ready, Obi-Wan turned away to speak privately to his wife. "What was that all about?"
"Well what was I supposed to say?" Siri countered. "He's just some random guy tagging along? He had to be family or they would put us in separate areas, and we can't lose track of him. I wasn't expecting to be crammed into a dorm room with him."
As the two conversed, Vader shuffled towards the woman and spoke with her, and she looked worriedly at Siri and nodded. Obi-Wan noticed the action and Siri, in turn, yanked the Imperial back over to them.
"What did you tell her?" she hissed.
"I said you were pregnant and needed an obstetrician to look you over," Vader answered. "She said they have one on call for this area and she can drop by tomorrow morning."
The two Jedi looked at each other uncertainly. "You called an OB?"
"I don't know how to deal with… that." Vader motioned towards Siri's abdominal area.
"How did you know I was pregnant?" Siri asked, and the Force knotted with worry.
"I sensed the youngling a few days ago."
"Even other Jedi don't sense it," Siri argued.
Vader remained silent, and the Twi'lek woman cleared her throat. "I have your room keys. This code cylinder will get you into the building and your room, 277."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan acknowledged, taking the cylinders from her. Glancing at a map also provided with the code cylinders, he saw that the six buildings were arranged in two rows of three, each at a higher elevation on the hill than the next. Theirs was the top left. Ignoring his trembling muscles, he led his wife and brother to their temporary home. It shared the same dull reddish color as the rest of the rectangular buildings, with dark blue doors leading inside. A quick flash of his code cylinder unlocked it, and they entered a small stairway, climbing to the second floor. Once they entered the correct area, Obi-Wan saw a long narrow carpeted hallway flanked with two decently sized lounges. The hall's walls were entirely taken up with doors leading to different rooms and one door in the center leading to a shared refresher.
"This one's ours," Siri said tiredly, opening the correct door. The room inside was square in shape, had the same carpet, and a single loft bed. A sleeping mat was rolled up in the corner where a desk had probably once been. The only other notable aspect was a dresser in the opposite corner and a window on the back wall with a pleasant view of the entire dorm area.
Siri looked bleakly at the bed. "Well this'll be comfortable."
"No worse than the bunks on the Beauty," Obi-Wan sighed, taking the opportunity to prod the Fore and search for their friend, but it they were either too far or… they were too far. And there were too many people.
Siri grunted in acknowledgement and rubbed her face again. "I can't believe this."
"Trust the Force," Obi-Wan tried to advise her reassuringly. It was the best thing he himself could do at this point. Patience was their friend right now, and honestly, he was too exhausted to ponder much more on the matter. "It's gotten us this far."
"How many people died today?" Siri asked quietly.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, unable to answer and unwilling to guess.
"Come on," Siri eventually said, pushing passed the matter. "Let me look at your back and then let's get some sleep."
Sighing, Obi-Wan complied, sitting on the floor and taking off his tunic. As Siri cleaned his wound to the best of his ability, his haggard mind registered that someone in their party was missing. Before he could ask, Siri sensed his realization and also looked around, but their question was answered when Obi-Wan sensed Vader just outside the room. Standing, he exited into the hallway and saw Vader staring out the large windows in the lounge.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Keeping watch."
"Are you expecting trouble?"
Vader looked at him pointedly. "You're not?"
"You said this was our best option," Siri pointed out, her exhaustion wearing her patience thin.
"That doesn't eliminate the possibility of trouble."
Obi-Wan was remiss to argue, particularly since the young man had a point. "You can keep watch in the dorm room."
"This provides a better view."
Siri and Obi-Wan both bit their lips in exasperation, but before Siri could say anything, Obi-Wan grasped her hand. Let it go.
She looked at him warily. And if he leaves…?
Obi-Wan blew out a breath. "Don't leave the building."
Vader didn't acknowledge him, simply gazing out the window, bathed in the light of the sunset.
The Jedi duo gave up on the matter, finally worn out. Obi-Wan trusted the man enough to leave it at that… or at the very least he trusted his own senses enough to detect if Vader left. They reentered their room and climbed into bed, which was surprisingly spacious for the two of them.
"You don't think he'll try anything?" Siri asked, her eyes closed.
"Why would he after what he did today? You do realize this is the fourth time he's saved us, right?"
Siri opened her eyes, her brow furrowing. "This situation would be a whole lot easier if we could understand his motivation behind all this. He's still a loose turbolaser."
"I know," Obi-Wan acknowledged. "But at this point… I think he's more of a danger to himself than us."
"And others, apparently."
Obi-Wan felt his gut clench with guilt at the thought of the commotion Vader had started today for their sake. For their sake. Siri was right; they really needed to figure out the man's motivation.
Or, more accurately, Vader himself needed to figure out his motivation.
Tarkin paced his quarters, agitated. He'd received reports from Hoth, and it left him more irritated than before. The Rebel base had been destroyed, their forces scattered, their resources depleted… but they hadn't been entirely eliminated. On top of that, Intelligence had just informed him that Rhaegon's foothold in his oversector had increased since a good amount of Imperial forces went to Hoth for the attack.
And he'd heard nothing from his spy.
Had she been killed? It would be a pity; she was his most useful operative apart from Vader. More importantly, she was his means to finding Vader – if she was gone…
Blast it all, he needed answers. He couldn't maintain this uncertainty for much longer. Either the senate would demand an explanation about Vader or he would have to come up with a possibly false conclusion and assume the throne. Not that the latter option was a bad one, but…
He was running out of time. That was all. If he didn't have a verdict on Vader soon… he would have to make one.
"Blast it all, find him," Tarkin muttered, squeezing his comlink as if he were talking to his spy.
Find him.
The reverse thruster method to change one's orbit is called a Hohmann Transfer maneuever.
Next chapter won't be up for a while, still have exams to contend with, but the title is Breakout, so I'm sure you can come to your own conclusions. :)