Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, etc.
Sorry for the wait, folks! I know I've been slacking lately, but I hope this update will make up for it. As always, I appreciate all the encouraging feedback. It definitely gives me that little nudge I need to get going again. Anyway, thanks for sticking with it.

Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

Defiance

Darkness slowly faded and turned to light. Her eyes were heavy and sore as they fluttered open. Blinking, she allowed them a moment to adjust to the dim glow emitting from the silver ceiling just above her before attempting to sit up. Wincing in pain, she first felt a dull ache that started in her temple and ran down her neck and shoulders; followed by an abrupt stabbing sensation in her ribcage the instant she moved.

Instinctively clutching her side, she hastily jolted upright with a gasp and found that she was lying in an unfamiliar bed. The fog was still lifting from her head as she anxiously glanced about to take in her surroundings. Much to her dismay, she couldn't recall why she was there, or even where there was... the last thing she could remember was boarding her ship and preparing to depart for the jungle planet of Kashyyyk alongside an entire fleet of steadfast Rebel fighters.

Suddenly, Padmé's heart nearly leapt out of her chest as her memories came rushing back to her all at once. Her mind somewhat clearing, she could vividly recall awaiting Vader's arrival on the Wookiees' home–world, and the ensuing ambush. The resistance had been taken by surprise and swarmed by a horde of Imperial troops, but had fought bravely and valiantly nonetheless. Many soldiers who had long served under her command had fallen right before her eyes; brutally slaughtered by the clones that had once waged war against the very enemy they now followed.

Many more, she was sure, had met the same fate. The thought that she had survived while so many others had not made her nauseas. Clearly, the Rebellions' plot to assassinate the recently self–appointed Emperor had been discovered. How exactly their covert operation had been unraveled and thwarted, however, was a question that she was unable to answer.

Returning her full attention to the present and once again focusing on her current predicament, Padmé did her best to remember where she was, but to no avail. One minute, she had been engaged in a desperate battle against the Empire. The next, she found herself lying wounded in a strange bedchamber that she had never before laid eyes on. Unfortunately, the space in between was still blank.

Tossing the smooth sheets that covered her slender frame aside, she glanced down and realized that she was clad in nothing more than a lightweight, silken gown. Not wishing to dwell on who or what had undressed her and replaced her usual clothing, she merely frowned as she attentively studied her new environment. The room was spacious and pristine, but lacked any semblance of warmth. The walls were bare and unwelcoming; reminding her more of a prison cell than sleeping quarters.

Pushing through the pain in her ribs, she slid out of the bed and lowered her feet to the cool durasteel floor. A chill ran down her spine as she silently crept across the bedchamber and made her way toward its door. Cautiously approaching the threshold, she paused and peered through the gloom before proceeding into an adjoined sitting area; several pieces of unadorned furniture illuminated by the faint glimmer of stars through a large, transparent viewport. At first, she saw nothing. Then…

Padmé felt as if the breath had been sucked from her lungs the moment she spotted the tall, ominous figure standing before the massive window; silently gazing out at the vast emptiness of space like an inert statue carved from stone. Taken aback, her heart beat so fiercely that she thought, for a second time, it would leap out of her chest at any second. Though she could only make out the vague outline of a dark silhouette through the shadows, she knew precisely who it was. Or, rather, what it was: A dictator who ruled with an iron fist, and without mercy. A ruthless Sith Lord. A cruel, vicious beast devoid of pity or remorse. The very monster that had murdered her husband and left her as nothing more than a broken shell.

Vader.

He had robbed her of her children, and in doing so, had turned her into something that she no longer recognized. She now lived only for her revenge; consumed by despair and a paralyzing fear that he would one day discover her precious son and daughter. He had reduced her to a mere ghost of her former self. Like countless others, she had been a casualty of his raw, unthinking fury. When he had slain Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Naberrie–Skywalker had perished with him. If not for her beautiful twins, she would have willingly allowed her body to die along with her soul. But Luke and Leia kept her strong… kept her firm and unwavering, and gave her otherwise hollow life purpose. If not for them, virtually defenseless against the threat of the treacherous Empire, she would have had nothing left to keep her going. But so long as they were in danger, she would never rest, never stop until they were safe and out of harm's way. No matter what happened, she would always be there to protect them.

"You should be resting…"

Padmé nearly jumped out of her skin when an all too familiar voice spoke up and broke the heavy silence hanging in the air. At first, the abrupt sound startled her and sent her pulse racing faster than she had ever thought possible. Hearing him speak, she couldn't contain an involuntary shiver as it ran down her spine and reached her toes. However, it didn't take her long to come to her senses and compose herself. He may have worn Anakin Skywalker's face and used his voice, but he was not Anakin Skywalker. He had no right to the name. He had stolen her beloved husband before leaving her, pregnant and alone, to die on the hellish world that was Mustafar. The very thought left a bad taste in her mouth.

Weary as she was, she unflinchingly held her chin high and squared her shoulders; her outward appearance not matching the inner turmoil that threatened to boil to the surface. She refused to show any display of weakness… she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Tell me, what did I do?" he questioned as he continued to stare straight ahead. His eyes never strayed from the viewport, yet Padmé could feel him intently watching every move she made. "All this time, I thought you were dead. You can't begin to understand how I felt when I saw you lying there… like an angel come back to life."

There was something eerie and disconcerting about the way Vader spoke without bothering to turn around. It reminded her too much of the way Anakin had looked while meditating out on the veranda of their lake house; so tranquil and at peace with himself. He had often spent the early morning hours admiring Varykino's beautiful scenery while she slept. She would find him standing there, lost deep in reflection. But he could always feel her presence like a shining beacon of light. As much as she hated to think that her husband and Vader shared anything in common, it only made sense that the Sith would possess the same abilities.

"But then I discovered the truth of it, my love," he continued through clenched teeth, pulling her from her whirling mind and back to reality. "You tried to kill me, Padmé. You want me dead. So, I ask again… what have I done to earn your hatred?"

Seething with rage, Padmé could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat as the urge to fire back with a livid response became almost too much to resist. He dared to ask her such a thing?!

Miraculously, she somehow managed to hold her tongue; settling instead for balling her fists at her sides and chewing on her bottom lip to keep from screaming. For a moment, she bit down so hard that she thought she was going to pierce the skin and draw blood, but she didn't care… she would not lose control in front of him. He had already taken enough from her. Under no circumstances would she allow him to take her self–respect, as well.

"How could you do this to me, Padmé? To us…"

Much to Padmé's surprise, Vader's words conveyed a quiet sadness that she didn't think him capable of expressing. Finally turning away from the viewport to look her in the eye, she didn't see the face of the murderous tyrant that she had expected, but that of a man hurt and betrayed; grappling with an array of emotions that she knew all too well. Grief. Sorrow. Possibly even regret. But she wouldn't be deceived or swayed by his feeble veneer. Hiding behind that mask of humanity, lurking just below the surface and concealed beneath the guise of a seemingly civil being, dwelled the spirit of a truly evil creature; the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. She would not, could not, be fooled…

"Am I your prisoner?" she asked at last, her tone calm and even.

"My prisoner?" he repeated brokenly, as if the very notion had sent a sharpened dagger plunging directly into his blackened heart. She would have taken pleasure in the fact that her words appeared to have wounded him so profoundly if only she believed that anything resembling a heart still beat in his chest. "You're my wife, not a hostage."

"My husband is gone," Padmé retorted, doing her best to hide her anger and remain diplomatic. "You should know, milord… you took him from me."

"What are you talking about?" Vader questioned with a seemingly genuine curiosity. "I didn't turn my back on you, Padmé. You turned against me."

"You may address me as Commander Amidala," Padmé replied, her expression hard and unreadable. "And you betrayed me, Lord Vader, along with the Republic and everything Anakin Skywalker stood for."

At this, Vader's own expression changed to one that she had been previously acquainted with; the very same expression that she had seen and been horrified by mere seconds before the life had been choked out of her, and she had collapsed at the feet of Palpatine's new apprentice. She had been accused of leading Obi–Wan to Mustafar to kill him, even though she had known nothing of the Jedi's presence on her ship. But Anakin had already been lost, consumed by the dark side of the Force, and the devil that had inhabited his body would not listen or be reasoned with. For a time, she had believed that there was still good in him… that the person who she had lovingly pledged herself to could still be saved. How she had been wrong about that.

"What have you done with my people?" she voiced her concerns when she received no response.

"I assume you mean your Rebel fighters," Vader stated, his frustration somewhat abating as he returned his gaze to the viewport. "The Rebellion has failed. It's over, Padmé."

"You're lying," was Padmé's blunt retort, even though she feared, deep down, that the savage butcher standing before her was telling the truth.

Ignoring the sharpness of her reply, Vader simply remained where he was, once again frozen in place; his shoulders sagging in exasperation as he released a long, labored sigh. "I must admit, this isn't the reunion I had first envisioned two days ago."

Padmé couldn't hide her shock. "Two days?!"

"You were badly injured," Vader elaborated. "I thought I had found you, only to lose you again. Luckily, your wounds were not so severe that they couldn't be mended. After two days in the bacta tanks, you have made a full recovery."

"In the Empires' bacta tanks, you mean," Padmé spat, the thought alone making her skin crawl. "If I had been given the choice between death and receiving your help, Lord Vader, I would have gladly accepted death. Instead, you took it upon yourself to heal me… and for what? To torture me even more than you already have? Or perhaps you were expecting gratitude, is that it?"

"Do you really want to do this?" Vader asked, still not turning away from the incandescent stars. "I don't want to argu–"

"Don't you dare!" Padmé exclaimed, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. "Now you want to act rational? Now, after you've destroyed the Republic and the Jedi Order? I'm afraid it's too late for that."

Padmé couldn't contain a startled gasp when Vader suddenly spun around; hurling a nearby marble vase across the room with a violent wave of his hand. Shattering against the far wall, its shards crashed to the ground as he rounded on her. His eyes blazing with pure, unbridled ire, he looked more like the villain that had long haunted her dreams, and less like the man whose embrace had once brought her such refuge and blissful comfort from the everyday tribulations of the outside world. Her reaction, she imagined, was the opposite of what any sane individual would do if ever they found themselves in her position: she stepped forward to meet the enraged Sith Lord half way as he stormed toward her.

"What now, milord?" she questioned, refusing to yield as he drew closer. Stopping short, he halted his advance just before reaching her place in the room. Still, even with the distance separating them, his imposing stature towered over her petite frame like a giant predator hovering over its prey. But she would not be deterred. "Are you going to kill me, just like all the Jedi you've hunted down? Just like your late master…"

If she hadn't known any better, Padmé would have sworn she saw a flicker of remorse wash over the Sith's face. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. "The Jedi never trusted me. And unlike those traitors, I took no pleasure in dealing with the Chancellor... it had to be done."

"Is that what you did, Lord Vader? You dealt with him?" Padmé mocked as her smoldering eyes bore into his. "Funny how those closest to you always seem to wind up dead or suffering, isn't it? As for the Jedi, it would appear that their misgivings were well–founded."

"It was their disloyalty to the Republic that led to their downfall, not me," Vader countered.

Padmé furrowed a brow. "And your master? Tell me, how did you do it? Did he see it coming, or did you kill him while he slept?"

Logic had told her that only the Emperors' apprentice could have been formidable enough, and close enough to his inner circle, to assassinate him. On the rare occasion that he had actually appeared on the holonet to give one of his contrived public speeches, she had seen Vader standing in the background like an obedient pet; never wandering too far from his side. She had known from the very beginning that only his trusty pupil could have pulled off such an impossible feat.

"The Chancellor was just another corrupt politician, no different than the rest," Vader growled, confirming her suspicions as his anger once again escalated. "You know that better than most, Commander. He wanted power, nothing more."

"And you don't?" she shot back, garnering an infuriated glare from the Chancellors' already fuming successor. "You're just as guilty as Palpatine. You've stripped people of their basic liberties, and the right to think for themselves! You call that justice?"

"I have brought peace to the galaxy!" Vader snapped, pivoting on the ball of his foot and moving away from the Senator turned Rebel leader; as if struggling to control an overwhelming impulse to leap forth and throttle her. "Democracy had its chance, and its people were rewarded with pain and suffering. You preach to me, Padmé, but you forget that I fought the separatists and served the Republic for three long years. If not for me and my new Empire, that war would still be raging."

"If not for you, freedom would still exist," Padmé hotly retorted. "If not for you, I would still have some semblance of a normal life."

"I couldn't let you die, Padmé!" Vader roared, spinning back around on his heels to face her. "There was no other way! Can't you see I was trying to save you from my visions? I had to protect you!"

"Protect me?!" she exclaimed, unable to restrain herself. "The only thing I ever needed protection from was you! Because of you, I have nothing left!"

"I couldn't stand by and do nothing!" Vader shouted back. "I did it for you! All of it! Everything, it was for you!"

"You killed younglings!"

The statement itself hurt Padmé more than any physical pain ever could. Not even noticing the tears that stung her eyes and freely streamed down her cheeks, or caring to hide them, she no longer attempted to rein in her conflicting emotions; allowing them, instead, to pour out of her like an unstoppable torrent of pent–up energy. "They were only children! They were innocent! Did you do that for me, too?!"

Vader fell silent.

For a long, tense moment, they stared at each other as if dazed and lost in a hypnotic trance. No words were spoken. Through her blurred vision, Padmé defiantly scrutinized the Dark Lord of the Sith; not bothering to wipe her tears away while she peered straight ahead. He, in return, remained where he was and watched her with obvious uncertainty. She had spiraled out of control, just as she had vowed never to do, but she was beyond caring. Crying in front of him now seemed a trifling, trivial matter not worth giving a second thought. Like dust swept up and carried away in a strong gust of wind, her concerns gradually dissipated until her pride and vanity was all but forgotten.

Time stood still until Vader eventually cleared his throat and slightly withdrew into himself.

"This is all wrong," he said at last, much quieter and more subdued than before. "This isn't the way it was supposed to happen. It was supposed to…"

Padmé glared at him as he once again averted his gaze. "Why are we playing these games? If you're going to kill me, just do it and get it over with."

"You think I want…" Vader trailed off a second time, still refusing to look her in the eye. "How could you think that? I would never lay a finger on you."

"That didn't seem to stop you from nearly killing me the last time we met," Padmé replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she recalled the murderous expression that had consumed the Sith's face during their last encounter on Mustafar. It was the very moment that she had realized her husband had been twisted by the dark side and changed forever. And as much as she had initially denied it, there was no bringing him back to the light.

"Or don't you remember, milord? After all, you have massacred so many that it must be getting hard to keep track. What difference would one more victim make?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a stranger, Padmé," Vader retorted, keeping his own tone uncharacteristically calm. "You can denounce and condemn me all you want, but we both know I'm not the only one who's changed since we last saw each other. You've grown bitter and resentful… you never would have sought revenge in the past."

"I have you to thank for that, Lord Vader," Padmé answered.

"You're not one of my subordinates," he said as his composure gave way to his temper, and he angrily turned back to her. "To you, I'm still the same Anakin that you married –"

"Don't you speak his name!" Padmé blurted out. "The Jedi were right, you're nothing but a pawn to the dark side! Anakin grew up as a slave! He never would have traded one slavery for another!"

Vader opened his mouth to respond, but shut it an instant later. Grudgingly relenting and taking a step back, he remained eerily quiet while he drifted closer to the viewport and seemed to lose himself deep in thought. "I saw him…"

Not understanding his meaning, Padmé herself remained silent and waited for him to continue.

"I saw our son, Padmé. I saw him as clearly as I see you now," Vader proceeded after he received no reply. "Your Rebellion has attacked several Imperial processing camps, but you couldn't find them all. I dreamt that I saw him... he was taken to one of the installations. I went to the Chancellor, but he wouldn't listen. He forced me to choose between my allegiance to him and the life of my child. What else could I do?"

Eager to learn the truth, Padmé dashed forward and seized Vader by the arm; slightly catching him off guard, even with his highly attuned senses.

"What happened?" she demanded an answer, more than asked for it. The thought of Anakin's premonitions about his mother, and her death shortly thereafter, gnawed at her mind like a ravenous animal. He had been right about her. She could still picture Shmi Skywalker's limp body, cradled close to her sons' chest upon his return to the Lars' family homestead back on Tatooine. She could still remember everything about that fateful day down to the last minute detail, as if it had just happened. "What happened in your dream? What did you see?!"

Vader hesitated. The look of dread on his face told Padmé all that she needed to know; leaving no doubt in her mind that his visions, like Anakin's, ended in tragedy and pain. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. If something had happened to Luke…

"What happened to him?!" she screamed like a woman possessed, the anxiety over the safety of her son flooding over her and devouring ever fiber of her being; driving her to a point of panic and desperation that, even with everything that she had already survived, she had never known or experienced. Vader didn't move to defend himself as she snapped, and frantically pounded her fists against his chest. "Tell me! Please, I'm begging you!"

Trying to catch her breath, she felt two gloved hands grasp her by the arms just as a sudden faintness overcame her, and her knees buckled. Sobbing, her hands trembled uncontrollably as her legs gave out and she dropped to the floor. Kneeling down to eye level, she almost didn't even see Vader crouching over her as he tried to lull her out of her state of blind hysteria. Ignoring the revulsion of having him within such close proximity, she clutched onto his cloak; refusing to let go, or ease her hold on the thick fabric.

Padmé could see his lips moving, but no sound met her ears. She was trapped in a nightmare. A nightmare that she couldn't escape, and it only became darker with each second that ticked by. Luke. She had to find him! She had to make sure he was safe!

That was when she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movement amidst the stars; having been too far away from the viewport to notice from her place across the room. Drawing her attention, she peered through the shimmering window as an armada of Imperial ships surrounding and encircling a single vessel. She froze when she spotted the hopelessly outnumbered cruiser. She recognized it immediately, for she had selected it herself. It was the very cruiser that she had chosen, and the Rebel Alliance had provided, for her oldest and dearest friend, and keeper of her children.

Sabé had been entrusted with Luke and Leia, and had taken them away to an undisclosed location that even she hadn't been privy to. Against the protests of her heart, she had elected not to possess such knowledge out of fear that, as a distinguished Rebel leader, she could be interrogated and pumped for information if ever captured by the Empire. And if there was even the slightest chance that information could be obtained from her to be used against her son and daughter, and lead her enemies to them, she knew that she would never have been able to live with herself. She could never endanger them, or take the risk and gamble with their lives in such a way. Her paranoia, it seemed, had somewhat paid off; she now found herself in a similar situation, albeit exceedingly worse than she had ever anticipated.

"What are you doing?" the question escaped her lips while she continued to stare out at the lone cruiser, visibly distraught.

"Don't worry, Angel, our son is alive and well," Vader answered, sounding far too much like her husband than she cared to admit. "Soon, you'll have nothing to fear. I'll keep him safe."

"NO!"

Padmé recoiled, her strength and resolve returning as she leapt back to her feet and moved away from him. "Leave them alone! If you so much as touch –"

Rising to his feet, Vader's eyes grew wide. "Them?"

Padmé caught her blunder an instant too late. Them. Not only had she slipped and acknowledged that her son had survived childbirth, but she had inadvertently revealed that he had a twin sibling. For so long, she had done everything in her power to maintain the pretense that her baby had died during pregnancy, only to betray both children in the heat of the moment. She inwardly cursed herself for being so foolish while Vader abruptly turned away from the viewport and started for the nearest exit. She didn't even feel his cloak as he walked by and it brushed up against her skin; her entire body going numb as the gravity of what she had just done hit her like a ton of bricks. She had failed them… she had doomed them both.

"You can't do this!" she called out after Vader's retreating form. "You have to call off your ships!"

Vader stopped just as he reached the threshold of the suites' doors and they slid open with a loud hiss. Standing on the other side, a group of clone sentries sprang to attention and saluted him while he looked back. "They have been instructed to disable, not to destroy. Our children will not be harmed."

Helplessly watching on, Padmé returned her focus to the cruiser while Vader resumed his previous course. However, he halted a moment later when she cried out; the cruiser erupting in a ball of flame and debris, and slowly splitting in half as the vacuum of space tore it apart. Vader rushed forward and returned to her side just as there was a bright flash of light and the center of the vessel splintered in two.

"What have you done?!"

Vader paid her accusation no mind as he stormed back toward the doors and approached the awaiting clone sentries. "Contact the bridge and tell those ships to cease fire! Do it, now!"

Following orders, several of the armored soldiers gave curt salutes before hastily making their way down the corridor to carry out their task, while several others stayed behind to cover their posts. Clearly assuming that his bidding would be done without question or delay, Vader didn't even break his stride as he brusquely pushed his way through the threshold.

"Where are you going?!" Padmé called out to him once more.

He paused as he glanced over his shoulder. "To get our children."

"Wait! You have to let me go!" Padmé implored, rushing forward to intercept the Sith as he once again moved to depart. "I have to go with you!"

Vader ignored her as he made his way down the corridor; fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as her path was promptly blocked by the remaining sentries. Hopeless and out of options, even she was shocked by what came out of her mouth next:

"Anakin, please!"

This stopped Vader dead in his tracks. He spared her a brief glance that, in reality, must have only lasted a few seconds, even though it seemed to drag on for an eternity. His expression was impassive and unreadable, and Padmé feared that her request would be denied. But she couldn't stay behind and stand idly by; not when the future of her children was at stake. She had to do something. Anything. Whatever she could, no matter what it took… she had to help them.

Turning away, Vader's cape billowed through the air as he marched down the corridor and called out to the sentries:

"Let her pass."