I'd Rather Kiss a Wookiee: Chapter 6 How we Change
Darth Vader sat in his rooms on his ship the super star destroyer; he was closing in on the slowly growing rebel alliance. They had not become a problem until recently when they were able to get a Jedi to support their cause. A Jedi who had saved the pathetic rebel alliance more than once when Darth Vader had them cornered. Indeed in the past few years he had been tasked with eliminating these rebels, a task which was near impossible. The rebels were like Borcatu hiding in the outer rim, and always on the move to remain hidden.
Darth Vader picked up the book for what felt like the millionth time that day and flipped its cover open to reveal pages that were scratched and marked with ink. It was the 'sketch' book he had found in Anastasia's room after she fled the Death Star. It had drawing of several things that were around the Death Star. Many of the drawings were of the wookiee she had befriended, the same wookiee that had made her escape possible. He was not sure what it was about her running that peeved him so. He had after all given her more than enough reason to flee from him when the chance came. He flipped farther through the book and came across sketches of places he had never seen before. He assumed that these were placed from her home world. While other sketched he recognized she had a rather complex drawing of Courisant and the Jedi Temple. What bothered him the most is that more than anything else she had drawn him, or at least his mask that he wore.
He was about to flip the page when he paused, the paper felt thicker than the other sheets. Testing the paper provided two sheets that had become stuck together. Careful to not tear the paper he pulled them apart to reveal a drawing he had until now overlooked. The reaction he had to seeing that face again was mixed. It brought back memories of happy times and memories of times he hated. It had been years since he had seen these faces. Padme and Anakin, never did he expect her to have had visions of his past. Though there was no other way for her to have seen this image of a younger version of him holding the ever beautiful Padme in his arms. He almost tore the page out to destroy it but stopped himself. He could not destroy this remnant of Padme, for he had lost her to his anger once. The force had, through Anastasia, given him part of his love back if only in a pen drawing. He would not so rashly destroy it had he had Padme. He sat there simply looking at the picture following the strokes of the pen that had recreated the image of the wife he lost so many years ago. It did make him wonder if Anastasia knew that he had been Anakin before the Empire. Though nowhere in the book did it contain any clue as to that being true.
Vader flipped closed the book and set it aside before exiting his rooms and heading for the main deck. A disturbance in the force caused this action. Something was happening or would happen soon at the Death Star. Vader absently wondered if Tarkin had actually caught some rebels. As he walked he absently searched the force for a sign of Anastasia, she had in the six years following her escape from the Death Star become quite good at hiding herself physically and through the force. While this had kept her hidden from the Emperor it did nothing to hide the rumors of a Jedi who survived Order 66 and became the main force behind the rebellion.
Anastasia shifted slightly in the crate she sat in, it was a small thing and not terribly comfortable either as it was the same sort of metal crate that the empire used to ship blasters in. These of course had been gutted so that they could fit a person. It was a haymaker plan and was ineffective for what they were doing. As once they were taken off of the cargo ship and offloaded onto a hanger they had no guarantee that they would not be discovered, or if they would even be able to get out of the crates. If a crate was staked atop the ones they were in getting out would be impossible to do in secret.
She hated the idea of having to come back to the Death Star; the rebellion though, required her to. When she had been found by the rebels she was in need of help and they offered under the condition that she as a 'Jedi' would aid the rebellion that sought to bring back the Republic. She had no other option at the time and became indebted to the rebels. Now she was sure that she would die for them too, and that they had not saved her life but rather prolonged it momentarily. The whole point of being in the crates and returning to the Death Star was to locate and steal technological schematics for the station so that the rebels had hope of destroying it.
How long had passed since Anastasia and the other two rebels entered their crates and smuggled themselves onto a cargo ship bound for the Death Star she was not sure. Only that she was getting agitated, this was not going to go as planned. If this was her nervousness or the force trying to warn her she was unsure. In the six years of relative freedom she had become so connected to the force that she relied more on it that her own senses. Through the force she could see the world around her for what it was, able to see past the illusions or lies that many attempted to use upon her. She had come to accept that when she was not yellow eyed with Dark Side powers she had a rather innocent look to her. Which led many of the vendors and transports that she had dealt with attempting to deceive her and rob her blind. She had over the years also become quite familiar with the more reliable smugglers and bounty hunters. Her familiarity with bounty hunters was not of her making, many of the times she became familiar with them because they were hunting her. Smugglers on the other hand had proved to be a fantastic way to avoid the empire when moving between worlds. The good ones she had even referred to the Rebellion, who had come to trust her judgment and would often seek her guidance before hiring certain smugglers.
She pulled out a small booklet and began to scrawl words across it awkwardly with her left hand. The space in the crate offered little room for her to be able to hold her pen properly let alone write neatly. Regardless she kept on writing, the booklet was small bound with a dark grey leather that was well worn, the pages inside were yellow. From age or the material they were made from she could not tell. It was a simple thing she had acquired early into her aiding of the rebellion. Now it was thick with slips of paper she had shoved into it. The book contained what she knew of the force mostly but it also served her as a diary so that she could prove, if only to herself, that she existed.
Anastasia paused in her writing as she heard footsteps coming towards her. When her crate was jostled and lifted she knew they had landed on the Death Star. She cautiously closed the booklet and tucked it away in her belt pouch so as to not make a sound that the people carrying her crate could hear. Now was the time to focus, she took a calming breath and searched through the force. She was definitely on the death star there was so much life around her that the vacuum of space did not offer. She was cautious in her search through the force, she was not sure if Vader was aboard the ship or not. She wanted to avoid brushing his mind for she would not be able to hide if he was aware of her presence. Through the force she was able to tell that she was being carried through the main hanger of the Death Star to a storage room that was attached, where the two men carrying her crate set her down roughly. She waited knowing that there would be more crates brought into the storage room from the transport. It wasn't until she was sure that the transport was unloaded and the storage room abandoned did she use the force and caused the clasps of the crate to flip open allowing her to push the lid up and breath the stale recycled air of the Death Star.
She pulled herself out of the crate and dropped the few feet to the floor as she had been stacked atop another crate. Reaching up she closed the lid and began to search for her two companions. It was a simple task to pick out their cramped forms with the force. One was trapped under a crate, the other off in a corner. Anastasia flipped the clasps of the crate in the corner allowing the Rebel free. She then held her hand out to the crate that was stacked upon the other false crate. It wobbled and slid slowly off the top of the crate and to the floor where she left it. Anastasia let out a sigh as the weight of the crate drained her energy. Instead of opening her companions crate with the force she went to it and pulled up the clasps.
"Good work Ana, let's get those plans and get out of here." Roland the ranking Rebel leader of the group said as he stretched his arms over his head.
"I told you before; I don't like to be called that." Anastasia said frowning at the man, she didn't particularly like him. He was very much a politician and her experience of politicians from Earth proved that they all lied to their own ends.
"Sorry Jedi, I forgot. Anyway, let's get this done and get the hell out of here." He said striding confidently to the door and pushing the button causing it to slide open. Anastasia sighed, getting aboard the Death Star was a mission of secrecy and silence, but Roland insisted that he couldn't be bothered with sneaking after getting aboard the Death Star and that it would only get them caught. It was a shit plan Anastasia thought. After all they had gotten their hands on some imperial grey uniforms but she did not wear such a garb. Only because she would stand out regardless being a woman. They were going to trying a ruse and act as if they were escorting her to see one of the commanders. Anastasia did not believe it would work. While she was not in imperial grey she wore a vibrant purple robe that supposedly was common in the emperor's court. It was over her simple black tunic and belt where she concealed her light sabers. She fidgeted with the massive robes which she would have to abandon should the need for fighting arise. This was a god awful plan; she did not like attracting attention to herself.
"Are you sure this will work?" Anastasia asked as Roland turned to her.
"Yes I am sure, here fix your hair these pins are loose. Now remember walk tall you are a member of the emperor's court. An honor greater than anything these officers have encountered."
"What about Tarkin?"
"Don't worry about it. This will work." Roland said as he walked out straight backed as Anastasia followed trying her best to look as regal as she could. She was pretty sure that it wasn't going to work and there was a nagging feeling that no matter what she did now it would not matter in the end.
A few storm troopers turned towards Roland and Anastasia but seemed to see the robes she wore and turned back to their posts and ignored them. Many of the officers didn't even look at them, others merely glanced. This was unbelievable it was actually working, yet that nagging feeling that they would be found out was only growing the further they went into the white and grey hallways of the Death Star. She glanced behind them but they were not being followed, she was nervous and distracted. It was not until it was too late did she realize that the force signatures of the life around them were closing in. She grabbed her light saber and yanked her arm back out of the robes in time to ignite it and block a blaster shot.
Several doors slide open and storm troopers came running out at them. Roland and Heigic their other companion both reached for their blasters, Heigic was shot down though Roland threw himself into the doorway of a nearby locked door and used it to shield him from most of the shot. Anastasia was blocking the blaster shot sending them back at the storm troopers. She had taken out many of the troopers before there were just too many in the hall to worry about deflecting blasters and she charged into the group. Wielding her light saber in her left hand she swung in elegant arcs which she would suddenly change direction twisting her body around and blocking with the saber. She spun and twisted in the masses of storm troopers using the force to help her jumps and balance.
Darth Vader strode down the hallway in which he had the storm troopers engage the Rebels, he could not tell over the security cameras who there were but he knew that a member of the emperor's court would never come to the Death Star unannounced and wearing court robes. Regardless he wanted them captured; perhaps he could attain the knowledge of the rebellion from them. He stopped just outside the ring of storm troopers that had gathered in the hall. When they saw him the parted making a tunnel for him to walk down, though towards the center of the group there was still a fight taking place. The familiar hum of a light saber drew his attention to the figure wearing the purple court robes. He was slightly shocked when he realized that it was Anastasia, her blond hair was pulled into a braided bun that was adorned with pins decorated with pearls, her purple court robes stained with the carbon residue of the blaster shots that went through it. She had changed in the years since he had taught her; he had expected her to become an actual Jedi upon leaving his teaching. This however was not the case as he could sense the power of the dark side radiating from her like an endless night consuming all light around her.
She was killing far too many storm troopers though; he had to put an end to this. He dropped the full weight of his power upon her shoulders. She fell from where she was mid jump to the ground. He expected her to resist, however he did not expect her to attack him in the same manor. She used what strength she had through the force and sought to bring him to his knees. Darth Vader however did not move, she was strong much stronger than when he had taught her. Yet her strength was fading fast as well as her anger. With it the consuming darkness of her force ebbed away to reveal her natural force signature, which was more like a sky in predawn. Soft neither light nor dark, she stood in the middle of the two. Vader let her up and she stood her face set in an unreadable expression, her eyes the unnatural yellow that came with the dark side of the force. She held out her left hand holding the light saber palm up and open, offering. She was surrendering to him; even in this vulnerable state that she now stood she appeared strong. Reaching his hand out Vader caught the hilt of the light saber that flew through the air to him.
"Come with me; take the other rebel to the detention level." Vader said as he turned walking down the hall. Though his back was to Anastasia he kept a close eye on her through the force not trusting her to not try something. Yet she did not speak did not deny him, she was silent and obedient. She had changed dramatically and was a woman he hardly recognized, and he most certainly did not trust her. It was less the fact that she had evaded him for six years, it was not even the fact that she had in those years become a competent fighter and the strength of the rebellion, no it was the fact that she had given up so quickly when he made himself known.
Vader led her to his quarters, once the door slid shut her turned on her quickly grabbing her left arm in a vicious grip that was reminiscent of the last time he held her so, when he broke her wrist. Though this was the same wrist he had broken before he intended to remind her of who was stronger.
"What do you think you are doing? Assisting the Rebels?" He asked her his tone cross; he did not expect her to have fear in her eyes as she did six years ago. Too much had happened since then for her to fear a broken wrist. He however did not expect her to not react to the rough grip he had on her wrist.
"There is nothing more you can do to hurt me."
"There is plenty I can do to hurt you." He said in a sinister tone, he did not care for her defiant attitude. He had hoped that in her years such arrogant behavior would have vanished, clearly this was not the case.
"You could hurt me, it would be no benefit to you though."
"What use are you to me?" Vader said frustrated with her indifference to his threat, he released her wrist and stalked across the room and sat on the couch. In six years the sitting room had yet to change. He glanced back at her as she pulled the heavy purple court robes over her head.
"I have to say I am glad you heard me Master." She said her voice muffled by the robes she was pulling over her head. Did he hear her right? Did she call him Master? He was about to respond when she dropped the robe to the floor revealing the simple black tunic that she wore, a brown belt around her waist with another light saber clipped to it. This was not what caused him to not speak, she dusted herself off with her left hand but her right arm was gone. The tunic was sleeveless revealing her right shoulder completely covered in a puckered red scar. The scar extended up from where her arm should have been to a spot on her neck where it ended jaggedly. Her left arm was covered in the red scars of light saber burns from when he trained her. She looked at him with an expression that he knew too well; cold on the outside but unable to completely hide the sorrow that was just below the surface.
"As I said, there is little you could do to hurt me."
(New chapter sorry it took so long, I've been rather busy. A lot more from Vader's point of view let me know if you don't like me writing like this. I put a large time gap between this chapter and the last because I wanted to establish that Anastasia has changed since the previous chapter. Please leave me a review)