Chapter Twelve: The Contemplation
Strong vibrations woke Padmé from the dreamless slumber. She hadn't realized she had fallen back asleep. Again the ship trembled, the objects in the room slightly rattled. She pushed herself up on one elbow and looked towards the massive viewport.
The large curve of a planet took up most of the view. Orange and brown clouds were seen swirling in the atmosphere of the planet below. Padmé couldn't place the planet off the top of her head. She shivered and realized her body was cold. She had fallen asleep with the covers off. She got out of bed and pulled the giant comforter blanket off. She wrapped herself in it, then walked to the viewport.
Two other star destroyers were nearby. Their canons faced down to the planet unleashing their firepower into the orange clouds below. TIE fighters swarm around the fleet. Every now and then she would make out bright bolts and a small explosion. Yet the majority of the fighting must be happening beyond her view.
Padmé thought about what this planet had done to deserve the Emperor's wrath. She wondered if it deserved a planetary bombardment from Vader's personal fleet. Most likely it did not. Just like her crew and fellow rebels hadn't deserved to die. Just like the people of Ryx Station hadn't deserved to be bombed by TIE fighters. There were so many more who perished under the commands of Emperor Vader that didn't deserve their violent ends.
What was she going to do? Vader's words haunted her. "But you do have one glaring weakness, my angel. You care far too much for others." Vader had already taken her crew from her, what was next? And there would be something that was next, she had no doubt. Fear crept into her heart as her mind tried to figure out what he might do to find the location of his children.
Of her children.
She closed her eyes and saw the two shadow children from her dreams. Their eyes glowing yellow. She couldn't allow that to come to pass. She couldn't allow Vader to corrupt her children. Yet how much would she be able to handle? The horrible monster was right. She did have a price. She was too concerned for others. How much could she let Vader take from her before she broke?
She took a deep breath and chased the images of the nightmare away. Instead she called upon the real memories of her children. Though she kept such memories and thoughts tightly locked away, she found that once she reached for them they easily surfaced. What always came first was the smell. Then the laughter. Followed by the feeling of the smooth, soft skin and feathery hair.
Then they came into focus. She saw her twins as she had last seen them. The two were barley a year old. Leia had her mother's soft brown curls on her head with large brown eyes. Luke every bit of his father with blonde hair and sky blue eyes. The babies would reach for their mother and coo and smile at her. How much the two filled Padmé's heart with love.
She had enjoyed every moment she had with the children. She had missed the first two months of their lives. That had been too much time to miss. As such she tried to spend every moment she could with the two. Even when it was tiring and frustrating to care for two children by herself, she cherished every moment. She wouldn't trade a single second of it.
She loved watching them grow as they learned to smile, roll over, and sit up. She remembered feeding them mashed up fruit for the first time. Leia had enjoyed it greatly, while Luke had made faces and spit it all out. She remembered rocking the two twins, one tucked on each side of her, to sleep trying her best to sing lullabies Padmé had learned from her own mother.
Yet no matter how wonderful Padmé's children were, no matter how much joy they brought her, no matter how much love she had for them, she couldn't chase away the cold fear. She and the children were always on the move. They couldn't stay in one place for long. It was simply too dangerous. Vader had been hunting Padmé the moment he had returned from Mustafar and found her gone.
Already he had placed a one million credit bounty on her. With such a bounty, it was never wise to linger. A month was the longest she had stayed in one place. It was tiring not only on her but on the twins as well. And all through this was the holonet news. Padmé tried to avoid it. She didn't have to turn it on. She didn't have to listen. Sometimes she was successful. She went a few days just enjoying her two young babies. But then when the two were napping, or when she would wake from her own memories and dreams, her weakness got the better of her. Her curiosity was too strong.
Whatever joy the twins brought would come crashing down at the news of what their father had become. Padmé hadn't been satisfied with the state-sanctioned propaganda-filled news. She had to know the truth. She had to know what had become of her husband and father of her children. She had to know what the Empire that she unknowingly helped create was really doing.
And the truth was horrible. It bore down at Padmé's heart. It forced her into a deep depression. The only thing keeping her going was the small laughter of two small children. Their small hands grabbing onto one of Padmé's fingers. But no matter how much she tried to focus on her children, she couldn't get rid of the oppressive weight the truth brought.
One night she sat alone after the twins had fallen asleep. A cup of caf had gone cold. Her body was tense. She was anxious. She felt as if any moment the door would explode open and stormtroopers would pour in, seizing her and the children. Her thoughts were speeding through her mind. She thought of her children. Her husband. The empire.
What future did her children have? By this time the twins were almost one year old. Already they had lived in a dozen places. Flown on twice as many spacecraft. What was their life to be like as they grew older? Would they have friends? Would they go to school? Would they turn into their mother, wide awake at night, glancing at the door, fearing white amour and the sound of blasters? Or worse, the sound of a lightsaber?
Padmé had to something. She could no longer just sit and hide away. She had to take action. She had to make the galaxy a better place for her children. She couldn't let them grow up in the oppressed galaxy of the Empire. Padmé had helped create this mess, and she would help tear it down.
And deep down she secretly hoped and prayed that underneath Darth Vader there was still Anakin Skywalker. She just needed to get rid of Palpatine and his horrible influence on her husband. With the empire and emperor gone, she could take her husband and the they could run away from it all. They could all live together again. A whole family as it should have always been.
The decision to revolt and rebel against the empire had been easy. The decision to leave her children had been heartbreaking. Others had tried to talk her out of it, but in the end she wouldn't be swayed. It had been decided it would be best for the twins to be seperated, which broke Padmé's heart into smaller pieces. Already the two were being taken away from their mother, and now away from each other. She hoped they were still too young to realize what was happening.
But they had to be seperated. Padmé and her allies had gone through great lengths to make sure Vader and the Emperor did not learn of her children, especially the fact that there were twins. If the twins ever fell into Imperial hands at least the other child would be safe. It would be too dangerous to keep them together.
She still recalled her last day with her children. She had spent every second painfully aware this would be the last time in a while she would be with them. She constantly broke into tears, but always quickly recovered not wanting to ruin the moment. After she put them to bed, she took a strong sedative. Her allies would take the children away while she slept. She couldn't watch them be taken from her. When she awoke they were gone. It was only her and the empty cold crib.
How the gaping wound inside her grew that day. It felt like it was constantly bleeding for months. The separation of her children. The darkness of her husband. The fall of the Republic. It all made her wound bleed. It was no wonder that when Rion came along, offering some relief, that she gratefully accepted it.
With that she thought back to Rion in his cell and the nine dead bodies in the chairs in the viewing room. She knew she had to be strong. Whatever Vader did next, she couldn't cave into him. Eventually he would run out of ideas. She just had to shoulder whatever horror and heartache he would bring next.
Padmé heard the door swish open and she brought out of her deep thoughts. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting on the floor in front of the viewport with the comforter blanket wrapped around her. Her forehead rested against the cold transparisteel. She didn't move as she heard his footsteps approach her.
"Excellent," Vader said. "I had hoped you saw some of that demonstration. I wouldn't call it a battle . . ."
Padmé tuned his voice out. He had come to stand next to the viewport. She had only given him the briest glimpse possible. He was dressed in his usual all black clothing. His hands were clasped behind his back as looked down at the planet below.
"Padmé?" his voice called out. She blinked a few times and shook her head slightly. He crouched down on the floor next to her. "Padmé?" he called again. Finally she looked at him. His hand reached for her face, cupping her cheek into his palm.
Padmé was instantly drawn to his face. He was concerned. His brows were furrowed in worry. A small frown pulled at his lips. But what drew her attention the most was his eyes. They weren't the horrible yellow. They were blue. A wonderful sky blue. Instantly she thought of her Anakin. Of the millions of times she had looked into those eyes.
"Padmé?" he called again. She had yet to respond to her. Part of her knew she should, but part of her was just too tired. Instead she just slumped forward into him. Her quickly caught her, bringing her to his chest. Then she felt him pulling her free of her blanket cocoon. He carried her to the bed. It felt good to laying back down. She was ready to get some sleep. Yet before she could close her eyes, she was being picked up again.
Once Padmé was secured in Vader's grasp, he took powerful quick strides from the room. He quickly moved to the back door by the small kitchen. Then Padmé was blinking from the harsh lights of the corridor beyond. Every now and then Vader would glance down at her. His face etched in more worry and concern. She realized he would sometimes call her name, but she hadn't heard it.
She didn't care. She was tired. Far more tired than she thought she was. Her eyelids felt so heavy, and when she closed them it felt so good. She awoke to more harsh lights and noise. She realized she had dozed off for a moment. She was no longer in Vader's arm, but laying down on a cold hard bed.
Other figures came in and out of her vision. There were other voices. Padmé blinked a few times, trying to bring her vision into focus. It took longer than she thought it should, but when she did she noticed the white coats and uniforms of the people hovering around her. She instantly recognize them as doctors and nurses. She noted two med droids hovering nearby as well.
She felt Vader before she saw him. How she hadn't noticed him standing directly next to her bed earlier, she didn't know. She glanced up at him, but his eyes were not on her. His arms were folded, his face in a large scowl, and his eyes were yellow. A male doctor walked up to him holding a datapad. It was clear the doctor was nervous as he kept glancing down at his datapad.
Padmé did her best to concentrate on what was being said.
"Dehydration and some malnourishment, your majesty," the doctor said. "The patient should be able to make a quick recovery. I recommend . . ." She stopped listening.
Padmé looked to the ceiling. She thought, Dehydration? When was the last time I had anything to eat or drink? Not since the night before I got that outfit. Two days ago?
Padmé let out a deep sigh and again let herself fall asleep to the sounds of the medbay. When she woke up, she was back in her room. Back in Vader's prison. She did note an IV was still stuck into her arm. An IV drip bag hung off a slim metal stand next to the bed.
"Padmé."
She turned towards his voice. He was laying in bed next to her, but on top of the covers. He was dressed. It didn't look like he had been resting. Had he been watching over her? He moved closer to her. His body coming alongside hers. He leaned over and brought his flesh hand over to her far cheek. He gently turned her head so she was looking at him. His head rested on the pillow next to hers.
Immediately she looked to his eyes, and they were blue. She blinked a few times just to make sure she wasn't seeing things, and yes they were blue. Not the sickly sulfur yellow, but blue. He looked at her, deep concern drawn across his face.
"Padmé, how are you feeling?" he asked. Even his voice sounded concerned. But she didn't answer back. Not out of spite, but she was just too tired. She wasn't even sure where her voice was. He brought his head closer as he kissed her forehead. After a few small gentle kisses, his head rested against hers.
"I'm so sorry, Padmé," he said in a very soft whisper. "I'm so sorry," he said again.
Who was this man Padmé wondered. With his blue eyes and genuine concern. Had she been right all those years ago? Did Anakin still really exist under Darth Vader?
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I won't let anything take you from me. Nothing. You're mine."
A cold wave washed over her as she realized that this man was still Vader. He may look like Anakin and sound like him. But no, he was still Vader. Perhaps Anakin was truly dead. Those words confirmed it for her. He wasn't going to let anyone or anything take her away from him.
Everyone has their price.
His own words echoed in her head as a new horrible thought came across her mind. Vader didn't have a price. Not for or her children. He would give anything to have them, to possess them. It became very clear to her. Vader wouldn't run out of ideas. He would destroy the entire galaxy if it meant securing his family. Securing what he believed was rightfully his and his alone.