Chapter 34: When Death Mocks

Series of boots trudged down the hall of the Imperial Security headquarters, haunting the quiet sterile space. Storming into the interrogation room, the Sith strode collected into the chamber -the inquisitors his loyal shadows. Icy rage emanated from Vader; the aura of pure violence was unmistakable to everyone in the vicinity. Molten eyes rested upon the man bolted to a chair as the Sith calmly unveiled himself. The rebel soldier refused to look up, "Before this night is over, I will have you begging for your death," the dark lord announced indifferently. Dangerous eyes stared at the undaunted man; under any other circumstance a chilling smirk would have cloaked his expression. The challenge would have been pleasantly accepted.

Though, this time was different than all the others – true rage encompassed him, there was no toying with his prey. The sole purpose was for this man to suffer – suffer as his wife… and himself had. With one movement, Vader's iron grip ripped the table from its foundation – chucking it across the room and in the same motion his metal clutches collapsed around the man's windpipe shoving him back until bone quaked against the concrete wall. Vader could hear his teeth rattle, yet his expression was unmoving. Leaning close to the rebel's ear, the Sith's jaw clenched, tension threatening to crack the enamel. "I would ask who sent you, but I ripped your commander's vocal cords out hours ago," he intoned, neck cracking as his head tipped. "Also, I would like to inform you that my wife lives. You failed. I will not." A beat, "Now tell me which you would prefer to lose first – your fingers or toes? You'll lose both before night's end, along with every tooth, ear, eye, and sliver of skin. And if you're praying in that hopeful mind of yours that you'll be dead before then… Don't worry – I'll be sure you feel every ounce of pain until your inevitable death - through my manipulation of the Force or medicines – either is to my disposal." Vader dug his way into the man's brain, listening to the first word that crossed his thoughts, "Toes it is then."

Without direction, the three men standing taught broke from their place holding the man down effortlessly – tearing off his boots as Vader turned, dragging a blade from his robes. "A lightsaber burns hotter than any fire man can create, I gave your comrades a merciful death – you will not share the same luxury. Now tell me, what was it like? Attempting to assassinate your only ally on Coruscant - making her an enemy?"

"That fucking whore and the satan spawn she was carrying deserved what they got," the man spit. Every cell in Vader's body ceased until the demon that resided within him burst from the trenches as he viciously swung around. His hand launched for the man's jaw, ensnaring it in a vice before snapping the bone from its hinge. With one vicious clench of his fist, the rebel's lower jaw shattered before the Sith shoved it back into the man's mouth – carmine bubbling and misting as the muted sounds of gurled screams resounded in his ears. The brutality was a blur until the Sith found himself standing over unrecognizable clumps of flesh. Glistening leather gloves had frayed while the rebel's brain and skull were no more than a puddle on the floor.

Only the soft twitch of fabric resounded from the corpse beneath him as he stood. It took a moment for Vader to recognize what he'd done as he sprang away. Trepidation shrouded his expression as he shoved passed his inquisitors. The rebel's body was an imprint in his mind as he trekked back to his office. He could feel his mind losing control over his body as the door slammed shut behind him. Chest heaving, Vader tore off his cloak – the stench of rust reaching his nostrils more than it usually would. Teeth gritting, both his hands held the brim of his desk tightly, straining the metal as he tried to retain his temper. However, the rebel's words kept playing in his mind, his cackle taunting.

"Fuck… FUCK!" Vader roared, twisting away to rip at the tendrils of his hair. Collected, that is what he should have been. He'd had an agenda in his mind – a script of questions that needed answers and yet one remark destroyed his composure. He'd lost his poise, in front of his men no less. It made the situation even worse for him as he threw himself back in his office chair. Attempting to calm his breathing, Vader shut his eyes as he drew in power from the Force to comfort him. He desired numbness, needed to feel nothing and yet even though he strained to feel that way – the emotions swarming him were suffocating. His chest never felt so tight, breath never so sharp, mind never so tormented.

Even if he'd been attempting to control himself, the chime of his comlink drew his attention – his Master on the other end of the transmission. Curses flooded the Sith's mind as he stared at the device. With hollow eyes, Vader tossed it aside and allowed it to ring, unanswered. Snagging the deathstick case from his robes, he didn't hesitate to click it open. Anxiously lighting one, the Sith slumped back in his seat. Taking a long drag, smoke expelled from his lungs as the drug hauled him back to reason. With one gesture through the Force, the comlink was in his clutches – returning the emperor's transmission swiftly.

"Lord Vader," Sidious' voice rang through his mind as he took another hit.

"Yes, Master," he replied reflexively.

"I trust you have dealt with the terrorists?"

"Yes Master."

"Good. I expect you have visited Amidala?"

"Not yet," Vader answered casually.

"Many eyes are upon you, my young apprentice. Perhaps you should pay her a visit," with that the transmission ended. The Dark Lord groaned, chucking the device knowing Sidious already had the answers to the line of questioning. He'd probably already seen the security footage – knew of his reaction. That knowledge made Vader's stomach twist; Sidious would not overlook the brutality in his actions. They were personal. He was not detached but triggered and it was obvious. So blatantly obvious that Vader hesitated to think of the consequences. Signaling open his desk drawer, he fetched a bottle of scotch. After taking a heavy swig, he tossed it back into the small space. It was then he realized his deathstick was stained in blood, same with the liquor bottle – smeared in the substance.

"Shit," the mutter left his mouth like it was ordinary as he snuffed the embers in the ashtray. Hoisting himself up from his desk, Vader entered the fresher to scrub his hands. It wasn't until he peered in the mirror that he knew the experience was different for him. His eyes were azure, clear with their natural color. Like looking into a gemstone, they were glassy, could see his own reflection within them. In one swift action, the mirror shattered – his flesh punctured as he wrenched from the glass.

His pain was null as he stepped into the shower, washing away his deeds just as it always did. For once he allowed the comfortable warmth to wrap him as the thoughts of Padmé awake hummed in his mind. Yet the solace was cut short as a word registered in his mind, 'monster.' With a swallow, he recalled her saying that word not long ago. The image of the rebel's body appeared in his mind along with many of the others he'd killed. He was a monster, a creature of nightmares, a reaper in the dark. Yet, he was no longer in the shadows… his face was plastered on every holo-frequency in the galaxy. Both of their faces were.

With that thought in mind, Vader switched off the shower. He stood for a moment, listening to the droplets against the tile. He was not afraid to sully his own hands, he was not one for appearances – though he did care about what she thought of him. Every being in the galaxy could hate him, but not her… he couldn't allow her to hate him. She could never know the extent of his actions. His thoughts continued to vex him as he snagged a new set of robes, dressing himself swiftly as he raked his drenched locks.

Glancing in the broken mirror, his eyes had finally returned to their normal gold pigment. The amount of relief that washed through him to see them would be unnerving to anyone else. Though, the fact the natural color had emerged was the only discomforting aspect to Vader. It only solidified his tendencies, he was born with the anger… the rage. He was where he was meant to be. The Senator had said if circumstances were different, he might have been a Jedi. Vader shook his head at that thought as he snagged a spare cloak from the back of his lounger. He would have betrayed them. In this life or another his destiny would have been the same – playing the monster was his true nature.

Delicate rays stretched across the sky, their warmth surrounding her like a tight quilt. Tiny feathers of tasseled wheat brushed against her fingertips while the sensation of floating took her feet. The sun setting over the meadow; there was not a more beautiful memory that she could recall. A serene smile tugged on her features as a gently breeze touched her cheeks. Her thoughts were captivated until a chime of laughter echoed through her ears. Padmé's attention shifted effortlessly, drawn to the angelic sound. It took her eyes a moment to adjust as three silhouettes sharped within her vision.

A youngling with sandy hair and sun-kissed skin zoomed through the tall grass like a bird. She flinched when he took a dive into the arms of a man. The woman's eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher his name. There was something about him that was familiar. His golden locks mirrored that of the boy while a charming smile grew across his visage, irrevocably happy. The final silhouette moved, gorgeous buoyant brunette curls waving down her back as she popped her head up from a painting.

"Mama!" The little girl squeaked, jumping up from the grass only to race closer. The man and boy also turned with pure excitement. Padmé couldn't understand how, but their ocean eyes had become even more elated. A small 'oof', fell from her lips when the youngling latched onto her leg.

"I was wondering when you'd be home, you were supposed to be here this morning," the man chuckled as he hoisted the little boy into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Padmé whispered, peering down at the little girl whose big brown eyes were already trained on her own.

"What's wrong?" The man wondered with a gentle smile. A swallow pushed itself down her throat while nervousness crept its way into her mind. Anxiously analyzing him, she tried to put a name to his face. However, there were scars that she couldn't place. The old wound beginning from the corner of his jaw stretching diagonally up to just above his brow. She strained to remember – it was agonizing trying to recollect his name.

"Vader?" The name felt wrong on her lips as she hopelessly stared at him. His own expression perplexed as he set the little boy onto the ground.

"You haven't called me by that name in years… Are you okay?" He wondered stepping towards her consolingly, his fingers brushing the stray hairs form her face. Padmé shook her head as pain stabbed into her side. It was as if someone had punched her in the gut as she lurched… Only the sound of younglings sobbing rattled her ears as her vision was torn away.

Padmé awoke in shadows and mist. The fog was dense just like the foliage beneath her feet. There was no saying where she was, however, she knew her surroundings were opposite to those of Coruscant and Naboo. Trudging through the thicket, her feet scraped against thorns and unearthed roots. It was apparent to her that she was bleeding, though, she couldn't register the pain. Waving in the darkness, she tried not to think about where she could be – if this was her afterlife, she knew that it was not one of paradise. When she stared up at the starless night, part of her knew she deserved to be here – she had betrayed the light for too long to not be swept by the dark.

When she reached the edge of the forest, a void was vast before her eyes. It was like cave darkness, the only light radiated from the crimson staining against the parchment glow of her skin. Her fingers were tattered, soiled in blood and dirt. The rest of her was no better – she was completely consumed by the eerie scent of metal and soot. Padmé struggled to recall how she had become that way, yet her mind was void of any reason as she came to a halt.

'Do you realize what you've done?!' An enraged voice broke from the blackness, her heart hammered for a moment as she realized the man whom it belonged. 'She was our only ally left!'

'Ally?! Your thoughts have been tainted by your obsession with her Kenobi! -There was no other way.' The second voice was unfamiliar; however, memories came flooding to the forefront of the landscape – the Jedi's face rendering clear. Both of them were younger, elated, the grasslands of Naboo flawless as the tranquil setting morphed into chaos. The Jedi temple was ablaze; tears gushed down her cheeks as she begged herself to let him go. They needed to be apart – they were destined for different things but for the same reasons.

'We owe her our lives! She was the only reason for the rebellion's existence! She would never betray the cause she risked everything to build!'

'None of it matters now! The fleet is gone!'

Lurching, agonizing pain struck her stomach as the voice ricocheted in the emptiness of her mind. The world spun like a whirlpool as she collapsed – splashing in a pool of her own blood. "Obi-wan…" The weakness in her own voice filled her ears to the brim with ringing, nausea flooding her body as she tried to gather herself. "Please help me," she whimpered, tears streaking down her face as she fell back into the puddle.

"Padmé," the sonorous tenor of the man who called for her then sent strenuous trickles of fear down her spine.

'Stop please!' She screamed, hands coiling around her ears – screeching as pure unadulterated fear reverberated through her chest. 'Please, I swear!' she coiled within the pool of cardinal ink, reeling frightfully away from the nameless voice. Her name rung through her ears like gongs, as paralyzing fear took her soul.

Those dreams were on repeat in her mind within the void. Never leaving, never subsiding for a moment until she awoke in the medical center. Even if it had been a week since she'd wakened, those visions still plagued her mind. Resting upon the balustrade, she analyzed the city lights in the distance. It was impossible to count them all, yet for how much idle time she had on her hands – she didn't stop trying. The sun had set not too long ago, the soft hues of deep orange and yellow still staining the sky as the inorganic glow persisted.

"You should be resting, my lady," Dormé sighed from somewhere behind her. Unintentionally, Padmé rolled her eyes – shaking her head as she turned.

"I'm alright Dormé," the former Senator assured, "You know how I enjoy the view."

"Yes… But if Lord Vader-"

"He's not here. So please, let me enjoy this… even if it's only for a little while," Padmé pleaded as she turned back towards the skyline. Analyzing the vast nature of the lights, she tried not to let her thoughts wonder beyond them. She didn't need the heart wrenching emotions to return. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared down at her hands, her feelings toppling everything else even if she didn't want them. Suddenly, she couldn't drag her thoughts away from what Vader had told her at the medical center. What she'd lost… What they'd never get back. With a sob, her knees quivered.

"My Lady… Please let me take you back inside," her handmaiden urged, hand bracing her shoulder.

"I was blind Dormé," Padmé whispered, her voice just above the sound waves of the frigid breeze. "I- I should have known…"

"None of this is your fault," the assurance in the woman's voice was enough to choke Padmé's sobs. "How could you have known? Neither of you could have!"

"He left me here-"

"Do you truly believe you would have been any safer with him?"

A sharp pain shot from her abdomen as she tried to stifle her emotions. It hurt her like hell to think, not only mentally but physically. Padmé had tried to tell herself over and over it was no one's fault… but as her memory pieced itself back together, she realized that Vader had left her even when he knew the risks. He left the planet for selfish purposes. He left to destroy what she'd given everything to build.

Standing at a precipice, she did not only think about her own loss, but she'd seen the reports of the Empire's victory. The rebel fleet had been obliterated; Vader had cornered them perfectly – not a fault in sight as she analyzed the numbers. Friends- those she even believed were family had been apprehended. Padmé knew of the Supreme Commander's reputation, the likelihood of their survival was infinitesimal… she had more of a chance of escaping than they had to still be breathing. The plague of her dreams dragged back old memories, Obi-wan, a man that she could never forget. She knew if it were under any other circumstances, Vader would have no doubt gloated his victory and that he was the causation of his death. Yet, he hadn't – had not said a word about the matter. If she had to be brutally honest with herself, he'd not said a word about the loss of their child – hadn't even brought it up besides the brief, detached conversation they'd had at the medical center.

Tears welled in her eyes at that thought, she thought he would have been more comforting – however he left so abruptly for a meeting that she couldn't read him in the slightest. Closing in her eyes, she felt as though she were fighting alone in the dark. It carried a drowning sensation; it was unrelenting and suffocating. Her lungs were heavy, heart in pieces yet each fragment felt like boulders.

"Padmé… please, tell me what I can do?" Dormé choked, "You don't deserve to feel this way."

"But I do," the former Senator announced, voice shaky, "I deserve all of it. Selling your soul will do that – I do not deserve happiness."

"W-What? Y-You did what you had to, to protect yourself – protect your family-"

"And what do I have now," she whispered numbly, "My family is safe while the people suffer, years of work lost, good – just people by the thousands no doubt dead. I was wrong. I should have not feared death, my family's death and my own would have been worth the sacrifice if it had prevented this-"

"You will never know if the result would've been changed. It was only a matter of time before he finally discovered their location."

"I practically gave him their location with how I had been conducting myself. I was too close with too many people who knew too much. I deserved to die in that explosion. Death mocks me, I was not worthy of such a painless death."

"H-How can you say that?" Dormé whimpered, "It is a blessing you are alive. For you to look at it any other way is irreverence."

"If my child had been brought to term, what do you think it would have become Dormé?" Padmé's grip on the balustrade tightened until she violently turned, "We have no power here!" The scream raged from her like nothing else had in her entire life. "We are nothing but pawns, lumps of flesh with a heartbeat! My child would have done the emperor's biddings just as his father – because I would have had no power to stop it from happening. A child is meant to be a blessing; however, in this world - it would have been nothing but a torment – perpetrating what it's taught."

Bloodshot tear-stained eyes gaped back as the air finally fell empty, "I would have believed that you wouldn't have given up so easily… or at least that's what I would have once thought."

"I used my grief from the creation of the Empire to help build the rebellion. I taught myself to believe it was childish to feel such agony as I began to shape a new era. Looking back at my hope, at my drive – that was the only foolish feeling. It was silly of me to have hope-"

"You realize that this is what Palpatine wants! Without hope… there is only his subjugation," Dormé argued, "He wants you to feel this way. He wants every sentient being in the galaxy to feel what you feel – leaving them with nothing left but his reign. But you, you of all people know it does not need to be that way. You've touched freedom, there is nothing more satisfying than that. The people need you, my lady. Do not give up on them now."

"We will never know if I would have been safer," Padmé responded to her handmaiden's former question as she glanced back to the reel of speeders. "What you need to understand is that I have my place and Vader has his… At the root of all things, you must understand Dormé that I am replaceable. Soon, my presence will be more of a threat than a vantage. At that juncture, I'm sure any attempt on my life will not be met with failure."

Feeling her handmaiden step away, she heard her pair of heels click, "I don't believe that is accurate-"

"Then where is he? If he cares so much, why hasn't he been here since the night he brought me back?" There was a long pause, the silence eating at Padmé's nerves awaiting her friend's thoughts.

"Perhaps he feels guilty," she whispered, "Just as you do milady… Perhaps he feels as though he also lost something that day."

"He can't even look at me. He's barely even touches me." A sharp shiver raced down her spine, the air around them suddenly becoming cold as a motor in the distance caught her attention. Silence grew between the two women as they heard the humming wind. After a few minutes, the doors to the terrace slide open, a set of boots drawing closer.

"I will retire for the evening. I will have my comlink if you require me my lady," Dormé announced suddenly before escaping inside.

After the doors shut closed, leaving them alone, her husband finally spoke. "You should be resting. What are you doing out here?" the sonorous nature of his voice left chills across her fair skin.

"I didn't expect you home," Padmé admitted, shifting to watch Dormé vanish past the kitchen.

With his brows furrowing, Vader took a step closer, "You know what the doctors-"

"I don't need a lecture from you," Padmé sniped, turning back to the city lights, allowing a cool breeze to flow against her heated skin. "I get enough instruction from Dormé."

"I will take you back inside," he said suddenly as a gentle hand collapse around her upper arm.

"I am quite satisfied where I am," she bit back, tearing her arm from his grip.

"Padmé please do not argue with me-"

"I once said to you that I am not your property. I suppose in your mind, now that I am branded with your mark in every way – that is not applicable anymore. But I must inform you that – you of all people will never have my soul. You lied to me. You said it was yours and yet all I see is that my soul- my life is in the hands of your master. I belong to him – not you. Just as you belong to him as well."

In a blur, she was pinned against stone – Vader's smothering presence locking her in place as hardened eyes stared down at her mercilessly. "As I have told you in the past. That will not always be so-"

"You plan to overthrow him," she chortled. "You plan to end him – plan to be his inevitable death. Bullshit. You are not the man he is," Padmé sneered, "You don't have the wit to think beyond him. He has every scenario planned out – and what do you have? Nothing but brute strength and the ability to follow command. You will never be an Emperor and he knows that."

Vader gripped her tightly, his teeth centimeters from her ear as he spoke, "I do not wish to be an Emperor."

"Then what is it that you want, Supreme Commander? What is it that you desire?" She sniped back meeting him with the same vigor, face-to-face.

Vader stared at her a moment, his eyes swarming with anger, she could also see greed… but not in the form she was expecting… it was resilience. "I wish to be free," he bit back in a whisper, "When he is finally gone, I do not want to take his responsibility – whatever happens, will happen. I do not care."

"So, another tyrant will replace him. Only you will be free – while every other being will remain indentured. No matter where you run, where you plan to hide… you will be hunted down just as you perused my friends. You will always be a risk to whoever succeeds him."

"Whether a democracy, oligarch, or dictatorship – it will always remain such a way."

"For once we can agree on something," Padmé mused, "If you had approached me with your true wishes, I could have helped you – I could have saved us from the nightmare that treads closer every day. The people you slaughtered could have given you what you desired… but you were so focused on reprisal. Tell me, my husband, did you keep your promise? Did you kill the man you so desperately desired to kill? The Jedi Knight - Obi-wan Kenobi?"

Padmé could hear the Sith's teeth almost fracture between his jaw bones as he shoved himself away, "I was responsible for the massacre of thousands, all answering to the likes of him, I call that better than ending the man himself."

"You were too weak to kill him," Padmé said blankly, calling him out on his diverting behavior. "I bet that vexed you."

Watching his eye twitch, for a split second, she wondered if Vader would be the end of her in that moment. Yet, he bowed away – his fists collecting at his sides. "Is this what you wish to discuss? My failures? Why don't you bring up my only real failure in my entire existence. My failure to protect you."

The woman's jaw flexed, "I'm alive, aren't I? Eryx did what he was instructed – protected my heartbeat – my lungs collecting and exhaling air. You can blame yourself for the lack of personnel-"

"I should have been there." Vader snapped, cutting her off as he stood ridged. "What do you wish to hear Padmé? That I regret seeking vengeance- That I regret every decision leading up to this point in my existence that revolves around you? I already believed that even before the attack-"

"So, it only took losing a child to recognize your flaws… that comforts me," she muttered sarcastically. It a matter of seconds, Padmé drew away her harsh mentality as the man before her fell to his knees.

With a sharp intake of air, the Sith's face remained out of sight as he stared at the ground, "Words describing my feelings have not yet been dictated. I- I couldn't speak with you. Even now every inch of me is pleading to leave and return to my post… but I can't, I can't escape this."

"The past is the past," Padmé whispered as she adverted her eyes. "There is no point running because it has already happened." Novels of words rushed through her mind, what she wanted to say – how she felt when she first discovered what happened. Though, she could only speak the few that stood out most. "I hated you," she admitted, "thinking about when you touched me… I could only feel disgust." Vader stared up at her then, tears streaking his cheeks as his broken eyes stared into her own, "I hated you with every fiber of my being for leaving me." As Dormé's words replayed in her mind, tears welled in her own eyes as she spoke her truth. "It's not your fault." A beat. "It's mine. I did this… it was my mistake – it is my burden, not yours."

Vader shook his head fiercely as he stood, "None of this is your fault."

"I betrayed those who trusted me. People close to me were exposed. I placed myself in that situation. I did this… I should have been more cognizant. I should have understood that not every soldier in the rebellion knew me personally. It was only logical that they wanted to end my life. I knew too much. They were only trying to defend their position, nothing more. I knew this, all of this, its my fault." As the words left her lips, she recognized their truth as she crumbled against the balustrade – hands consoling her face as she wiped her tears. Standing tall, she tore her hands away. "I do not need anyone's pity, nor remorse. I conducted myself in the way that I felt was prudent. No one else controlled that – no one else decided for me. Even with all your manipulation… you did not select my choices for the past several years – I did."

Vader's stare was one of pure confusion as he leaned back, falling completely on his heels, "It does not matter your choices. You still remain loyal to them."

"Because it's all I have," she admitted, "All I have is my loyalty to the hope of a better life. But you must understand, the better life is not only myself. It is for all the people in this galaxy. That longing will never subside – the passion I have will never fail even if all of me is broken."

"It is more than following orders for you."

"I am no ordinary soldier," Padmé whispered, kneeling to sit before him. "I was the very thing that created the soldiers… I may be a soldier for the cause but that does not augment my ability to handle turbulence, learn from the very tragedies that would break most. Like now… Your reaction has taught me, that I am not the only person on Coruscant that wants a different life. I will use that. I will not lie to you and say I won't. I know you believe that you are demonstrating something similar to weakness… you aren't. You hope for something better. Your strife for something better, more than what your life is now. There is nothing wrong with that."

"Your rebellion is gone," Vader clarified, "Soldiers are only men, and they are gone."

"Your master should have taught you… as long as one Jedi remains there will always be hope. Unlike your teachings… I know that the men alive will alter their views – be unhindered by teachings and change with what needs to be. The root of their beliefs is not finite, it can evolve for what the people need… They lost that evolution during the time of the old republic. A trait that remained forgotten but learned after defeat. It is something they will strive off of going forward. You killed soldiers. You did not kill the idea." Silence grew between them then as Padmé shakily stood, her muscles still sore even after all the treatments. "I lost myself here. I must tell you Lord Vader – I will not lose myself again." With that affirmation, the former senator made her way towards the terrace doors. "The remainder of my life has already been forfeit, I understand that… my question is when will that resonate with you?"