Chapter 69
Night had almost fallen when Han made his way up to the throne room. He was met on the stairs by a surly looking guard, who blocked his way. Han faced the creature as calmly as he could; giving him a stare that normally would make an opponent shrink away.
"Where do you think you're going?" the creature demanded.
"Food replicator is acting up," Han said, indicating the tool box that he had brought with him. "I'm going to fix it."
The guard considered this, and, realizing that food was something nobody wanted to do without, let Han pass.
Han breathed a sigh of relief as he continued on his way, reaching the main floor of the palace in short order. Chewbacca was there waiting for him, and showed him to the replicator.
"I thought there'd be more of them asleep by now," Han commented as he noticed a great deal of activity still going on in the throne room. "What's going on? Another freakin' party?"
"A new dancing girl," Chewbacca told him.
"What happened to the old one?"
"The Rancor was hungry."
Han shuddered as he considered the horrible fate of the young twilek female who mere hours ago had been entertaining the motley crew of drunken aliens.
"I guess my idea is shot to Hell then," Han muttered as he got to work on the replicator. "I'll make sure this thing needs more attention tomorrow night so we can…" Han stopped as he and Chewbacca heard something above the normal din of the partiers. "What is that?" he asked. "Sand storm?"
Chewbacca tilted his head to one side. "No," he said. "It's footsteps, plenty of them. They're coming this way."
"What do you mean?" Han asked, but before Chewie could reply, a century of storm troopers burst into the room, blasters at the ready. Aliens from all corners screamed and tried to escape the invading force, but to no avail; they were shot instantly. The others froze where they were, having seen what had befallen those foolhardy enough to try to escape.
Jabba, who had been dozing, was abruptly awoken by the noise, and snapped open his eyes only to see his throne room swarming with a sea of white armored troops.
"What is the meaning of this!?" he demanded angrily. "On whose authority are you trespassing here?"
"My authority," said Anakin as he emerged from the throng of clones.
Jabba looked at the imposing figure before him, recognizing the trappings of a Jedi Knight. "You have no authority here, Jedi scum," he growled.
"I beg to differ," Anakin replied. "I am here as commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer Executor," he said. "You have kidnapped two members of my crew. I want them back."
From their safe vantage point, Han and Chewbacca watched the entire scene in shocked disbelief. Chewbacca looked at Han. "Maybe he's not as bad as you seem to think he is."
Han frowned, not willing to admit that Chewie was right. I'll never hear the end of this...
"Crew members?" Jabba replied. "I have no imperial troops here, besides the ones you so thoughtfully brought with you," he added sourly.
"Don't play games with me, Jabba," Anakin retorted, taking a step closer to the dais. "I know your kind very well, and I know that you have Solo and the wookiee Chewbacca here in this palace. Don't think for a moment that I won't tear this hell hole apart to find them."
Jabba merely smiled. "You don't scare me," he retorted. "I'm not afraid of the Jedi, that is, if you even are a Jedi. Didn't your kind get wiped out twenty years ago?"
It was Anakin's turn to smile. He lifted a hand and sent Jabba hurtling backward against the wall behind him. Pieces of ceiling fell down around him at the great impact, and more aliens shrieks were heard from the cowering masses.
"Not all of us," Anakin said simply as he watched the fear blossoming in Jabba's eyes as he struggled to regain his composure.
"Now where are they?" Anakin asked his eyes as cold as a glacier. "Or do I need to give you another demonstration?"
Jabba looked closely at Anakin as he was helped back onto his dais by a veritable army of lackeys. "Who are you?" he asked, the curiosity getting the better of him. No Jedi he had ever encountered had such power.
"I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Jabba," Anakin retorted. "Considering you and your charming wife made much of my childhood a living hell."
At this Jabba's eyes widened. "Anakin Skywalker," he said, recognizing him at last. "So, we meet again. Tell me, how is your dear mother? She always was so accommodating, so compliant. Never complained even when asked to do the most demeaning of things."
Rage filled Anakin, dark, potent rage. Jabba felt his throat begin to constrict and his hands flew to his neck as he sputtered for air.
"You are not fit to utter her name," Anakin replied coldly, watching the vile gangster as he choked and sputtered. "Go back to Hell now, Jabba, where you belong," he added, squeezing just a tiny bit tighter, just enough to crush the larynx of the huge beast. Jabba gasped his last breath, and his eyes glazed over, his great slime coated tongue protruding from his mouth.
Anakin turned to his troops. "Find them," he said simply.
"We're here!" Han called out, emerging with Chewbacca from their hiding spot. The scene he had just witnessed had shaken him deeply. He knew that Anakin Skywalker was a formidable man; but he had no idea of just how formidable. Until now. The ease with which Anakin had dispatched Jabba had been terrifying to witness, despite the fact that it meant freedom.
Anakin looked first at Han and then at Chewbacca. He could see how shaken Solo was, and it secretly pleased him. Maybe now you'll know who you're dealing with, he thought to himself.
"Are you injured?" he asked.
"No, nothing worth mentioning," Han said. Chewbacca, however, proceeded to tell Anakin all about Han's cracked ribs. Anakin nodded his understanding and looked back at Solo. "The Executor is in orbit," he told him. "You can receive medical attention when we return."
"Thanks," Han said, at a total loss for words for the first time in his thirty years. "Really, thanks a lot. I'm in your debt."
Anakin lifted an eyebrow at this comment, but did not reply. "Let's go," he said.
The clones held the aliens at blaster point while Anakin, Han and Chewbacca left the room and found their way to the exit. They then made their retreat also, leaving a stunned and terrified mob to deal with the shocking turn of events that they had witnessed.
Anakin was quiet and sullen on the shuttle trip back to the Executor. Han had wanted to speak to him, to express his thanks and try to make peace; but it was obvious that Anakin wanted to be left alone, so Han kept his distance.
Anakin's family as well as Admiral Piett was waiting in the shuttle bay when they arrived back at the ship. Leia, unable to hold back her feelings any longer, ran to meet Han.
"I was so worried," she cried as she hugged him gently.
"I'm okay, sweetheart," Han told her. "Thanks to your dad. He was something else down there, scared the crap out of me."
Leia smiled. "He does tend to do that to people sometimes," she said. "Come on; let's get you to the infirmary."
Padmé and Luke had noticed immediately that Anakin was not himself, and both were concerned. Luke decided that his mother was the best one to get him to talk about what was bothering him, and accompanied a rather reluctant Chewbacca to the infirmary along with Han and Leia.
"Everything under control?" Anakin asked Piett.
"Yes sir," Piett replied. "I gave orders to return to the Rebel fleet as soon as your shuttle arrived. I take it things went smoothly down on the planet?"
Anakin nodded. "Jabba the Hutt won't be harassing anyone any more," he said simply. "I'm going to my quarters to wash off the filth from that place," he added. "I'll join you on the bridge shortly."
"Very well, sir," Piett said.
Anakin turned to his wife and gave her a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. Padmé decided to accompany him back to their quarters to try to get him to open up to her. She watched him as they rode in the turbo lift. Padmé knew her Anakin well; his body language spoke volumes to her. What happened down there, Ani? She wondered anxiously. Why are you so withdrawn?
Finally, in the privacy of their quarters, Padmé voiced her concerns.
"Tell me what's wrong," she said simply.
Anakin, who was preparing to get into the shower, stopped unbuttoning his shirt to look at her. "Why do you think something is wrong?"
Padmé frowned. "Because I know you," she said, walking over and helping him. "Because I know that you are upset about something." She looked up at him. "What happened down there?"
Anakin did not respond at once, removing his shirt and setting it on the bed. "The clones invaded the palace," he began, still not meeting her eyes. "And we took Solo and the wookiee. It was relatively easy."
Padmé took his face in her hands and tilted it down so that he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. "What else?"
Anakin frowned as the memory of what he had done, the memory of how he had felt flashed through his mind. "I…I killed Jabba," he told her.
Padmé nodded. "I'm sure it was necessary," she said, hoping that she was right. "He was a dangerous criminal, Ani. You were only doing what you needed to do."
"I'm not so sure," he replied, casting his eyes downward. "He was taunting me about my mother," he told her quietly. "And I lost my temper. I used the Force to crush his windpipe, just like I used to do when I was Darth Vader." He looked up at her, his blue eyes troubled. "I used the anger I felt to destroy him, Padmé! I used the Dark Side to get revenge!"
Padmé did not reply at once, for his words both surprised and upset her. "To be angry is to be human," she said, remembering how she'd said the very same thing to him on that terrible day so long ago when Shmi had been killed by the Tusken Raiders. Anakin had gone insane with rage on that day, slaughtering the entire village of tuskens, men, women and children, in revenge for his mother's death.
"I don't want to go there again, Padmé," he said, his voice full of emotion and fear. "I don't want the dark side to claim me again!"
"It won't!" she averred, stroking his face. "I won't let it, and neither will Luke and Leia! Jabba made you angry, you had a human reaction. I know you are no longer Darth Vader," she told him vehemently. "But I also know that not so very long ago you were. You have made a remarkable, even miraculous turn around, Anakin. It is not surprising that you still have an occasional slip."
Anakin appreciated his wife's words, even if the nagging feeling of fear was not alleviated by them.
"You're not perfect, Anakin," she reminded him gently. "I know sometimes you expect yourself to be, but you aren't. No one is."
"I know that, Padmé," Anakin responded. "I suppose it's just been too recently that I was Darth Vader in every way. I never want to be him again."
"And you won't," she assured him. "The Dark Side will never take you from me again; Palpatine will never take you from me again. You are stronger now, Ani, wiser, and have learned from your mistakes. Don't be so hard on yourself if once in a while you are human."
Anakin smiled, and pulled her into his arms. "How did you get so wise?" he asked her.
Padmé ran her hands down to his bare chest. "Must be all the Jedi I associate with," she told him.
Anakin laughed. "Perhaps," he said, kissing her brow. "Or perhaps you are simply a remarkable woman."
"Maybe so," she said.
"I'm going to have a shower," he said, releasing her. "Care to join me?" he asked with a grin.
Padmé laughed. "Don't you think the bridge crew would wonder about us if we were both absent?"
"Let them wonder," he said, kissing her softly. "They have to have something to gossip about."
"I see," she said, smiling at him. "Well in that case, I would love to join you."
Anakin smiled, and pulled her closer to him again.
Imperial Palace- Coruscant
The Emperor Palpatine sat in his garden, staring vacantly into the distance. His sleep the previous night had been disturbed by a tremendous tremor in the Force, a powerful surge of Darkness that had shaken him deeply. Lord Vader is angry, very angry, he thought.
Palpatine had begun to have serious doubts about Vader, questioning his true allegiance. The fact that Vader still desired his wife troubled Palpatine, for she represented a weakness in him, and always had.
But the surge of darkness that he had sensed coursing through Vader was undeniable, and it puzzled Palpatine. Perhaps it is merely lust he feels for Amidala, he reasoned. Just as Ferreus had felt for the whores whose company he kept… If that were the case, then Amidala's presence in his life could possibly work to the advantage of the Dark Side. Lust, after all, was a dark emotion, an emotion of power, unlike love, which was one of weakness and compliance.
Vader had been most insistent during their last communication that he had rejected the Dark Side; so why did the Dark Side tremble with fury? Why was Vader so filled with anger that it resonated through the Force like a dark tidal wave? Palpatine smiled. It seems you are not as sure of yourself as you would like me to believe, Lord Vader, he thought with satisfaction. I will be waiting for you to return to me, my friend…it is only a matter of time now.