Chapter 7 Part 2: Escaping the Shadows
The room was cold. The hum of machinery filled the air, and the dim red glow of control panels cast long shadows across the chamber's durasteel walls. Padmé stood before the carbonite slab, her breath shallow, heart hammering against her ribs. Her hands trembled as she reached out, running her fingers across the frozen surface.
Anakin's face was still. Trapped. His features, once so warm and full of life, were locked in a twisted moment of agony, as if his last thoughts before being frozen had been of struggle, of pain. The sight made her chest tighten painfully. She had seen holos of him like this—had dreamed of this moment countless times—but nothing had prepared her for the weight of it, for the way seeing him in this state shattered her all over again.
She placed a palm over his frozen hand. I found you.
R2-D2 let out a soft warble beside her, waiting for the signal. She swallowed and gave a shaky nod.
"Do it, Artoo."
With a confirming beep, the little astromech extended his scomp link and accessed the carbonite release sequence. The chamber hissed violently, releasing a rush of freezing air as the carbonite began to melt away. The dim red emergency lights flickered against the cold, metallic walls of the chamber, casting long shadows over the figure encased within.
Padmé stood frozen, heart hammering in her chest, as R2-D2 worked swiftly at the control panel. She clenched her hands together, barely able to breathe as the carbonite's surface cracked and steam poured out in waves.
Then—his body lurched forward.
Anakin staggered, gasping as he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his body drenched in cold sweat. He coughed violently, the muscles in his arms shaking as he tried to orient himself. The world around him blurred—his vision flickered between shadows and dim red light, the sound of machines and an astromech's frantic beeping buzzing in his ears.
For a moment, he felt like he was still trapped—still suffocating in the cold, endless void.
Then—he felt her.
A warm touch, gentle but trembling, cupped his face.
"Anakin," a voice whispered, thick with emotion.
His hands trembled as he tried to push himself up, but his limbs wouldn't obey. His breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body drenched in sweat.
Then, his voice—hoarse, raw from disuse—rasped out, "Padmé?"
She exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding her. "I'm here," she whispered, reaching for him.
But his eyes—his beautiful, familiar blue eyes—remained unfocused.
His brow furrowed in confusion, his breathing still labored. "Padmé?" His voice wavered. "I—I can't see."
Her chest tightened.
Carbon sickness.
Her hands trembled as she cupped his face, forcing herself to stay calm. "It's the hibernation sickness," she assured him, her voice gentle. "It'll pass. Just breathe, Anakin."
But he tensed beneath her touch. His fingers curled against the floor, his senses disoriented, lost in a darkness he couldn't escape. He reached out blindly, his hands grasping at the air before finally finding her shoulders.
Her hands were trembling as they held his face, her fingers running along the sharp edges of his jaw. Tears glistened in her eyes, her lips parted in a shaky breath.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his body still sluggish, but the Force surged between them. He felt her warmth—felt her, as though his entire being had been starved of her presence and was now desperate to grasp onto her before she disappeared.
But something was… wrong.
His brow furrowed, his breath still unsteady. The last thing he remembered—the last thing—
Sidious.
The betrayal.
The suffocating darkness.
His body tensed as the memories rushed back all at once, his hands instinctively gripping her arms. No, this wasn't right. He had just been—
His voice rasped, raw from disuse. "Padmé?"
Padmé let out a quiet sob, her forehead pressing against his. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here."
"Padmé… where am I?" His voice was thick with confusion, his grip tightening. "The last thing—I—Sidious—" He sucked in a sharp breath, his mind reeling. "What happened?"
Padmé swallowed hard, struggling to hold back her tears. "You were frozen in carbonite," she said softly.
Anakin exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on her as the Force surged through him. He felt her pain—months of loneliness, of longing, of missing him. The weight of it crashed over him like a tidal wave, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs.
But the moment his senses stretched further—he felt it. Or rather, he didn't feel it.
The life within her.
The children.
They weren't there.
His heart pounded, confusion lacing his voice as he lifted his shaking hands to cup her face. "Padmé… the baby—"
Her eyes squeezed shut, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Her hands covered his, pressing them against her skin as if to stop him from saying it.
His breath hitched. The truth sank into him like a blade to the chest.
He swallowed, voice hoarse. "Oh, Angel…" His thumb brushed away a stray tear, his fingers trembling as he whispered, "How long has it been?"
Padmé sucked in a sharp breath, then wordlessly pulled him against her, holding him so tightly it nearly hurt. She buried her face against his shoulder, her body trembling as a broken sob escaped her lips.
That was all the answer he needed.
His eyes squeezed shut, his head pressing against hers as a sharp pang of sorrow stabbed through his chest. He had been gone years. Years stolen from them—stolen from her.
The grief hit him like a crashing wave. His hands curled into fists against her back, his voice thick with regret. "Padmé… I—" He swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry."
She shook her head fiercely, her arms tightening around him. "No," she whispered. "You have nothing to be sorry for." She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands framing his face, her expression desperate. "This wasn't your fault, Anakin. None of this was your fault."
A sharp, aching pain rippled through Anakin's heart. He felt the weight of her loneliness, the time she had endured without him. The sorrow she had carried, the nights spent missing him—grieving him.
His hands shakily came up to cradle her face. Even blind, he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, the way she leaned into his touch like she was afraid to let go.
The bond between them, long severed by time and suffering, flickered—tentative at first, like the dying embers of a once-roaring fire.
But the moment she opened herself to him—truly opened herself—Anakin felt it rush back in full force.
A radiant warmth, golden and strong, surged between them. Their Force signatures entwined, intertwining like vines regrowing after a harsh winter.
And then—
Light.
Anakin inhaled sharply, his entire body jolting as a sudden, searing warmth spread through him. His senses flared, the darkness in his mind melting away like frost in the sun. A wave of energy, powerful and overwhelming, flooded through his limbs, through his very being—through his soul.
The Force pulsed between them, raw and unbreakable.
And then, as if the universe had exhaled, Anakin's vision snapped back.
Padmé's face appeared before him—soft brown eyes filled with tears, her expression a mix of relief, sorrow, and unwavering love.
He could see her.
His breath caught in his throat.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered.
Despite everything—despite the years of pain, the suffering—she still looked at him the way she always had.
His throat closed up, and he let out a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead to hers. Their bond pulsed, warm and strong, rekindled as if it had never been severed at all.
His fingers trembled as he brushed a tear from her cheek. His voice, though still hoarse, was filled with quiet awe. "Are you an angel?"
She gave a watery laugh, her hands still cradling his face.
Anakin exhaled, a small, broken smile forming at the corners of his lips.
The weight of everything still lingered—the pain of lost time, the scars that could never fully fade—but for the first time in years, he was here. He was with her.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he buried his face against her hair. But as he gazed at her—truly saw her—he knew one thing for certain.
He would never leave her again.
Padmé smiled softly through her tears, her forehead pressing gently against his.
"You're home."
Anakin let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes.
Home.
He pulled her into his arms once more, holding onto her as though he would never let go again.
Ahsoka and Barriss crouched in the shadows of a maintenance corridor, their eyes locked on the comm device as Padmé's voice crackled through, breathless but resolute.
"Ahsoka, I have him. We're on the move."
Relief washed over Ahsoka in a fierce wave, but she didn't let herself dwell on it. They weren't out of danger yet. Not even close. The real fight was only beginning.
She exhaled sharply, already recalculating their next moves. "Alright," she muttered, fingers flexing in anticipation. "Time to set the whole place on fire—figuratively speaking." She shot Barriss a quick smirk before activating her wrist console and tapping into the palace's security systems.
Barriss didn't hesitate. Her fingers danced across the controls, inputting a sequence to override security protocols. Within seconds, klaxons blared through the halls. Red emergency lights pulsed, throwing jagged shadows across the walls. Imperial comm channels erupted with confusion—breaches reported in multiple sectors, security droids detecting hostiles near the main hangar, vault access triggered in restricted zones.
Barriss scanned the readouts, satisfaction flashing across her face. "Troopers are already scrambling," she reported. "They won't know which way to go."
Ahsoka's grin turned sharp. "Let's make it even worse for them."
She stepped forward into the dimly lit corridor and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The Force surged around her—not gentle, not restrained, but raw and untamed, an electric current crackling through the air. She didn't just reach into the Force—she commanded it, shaped it, bent it to her will. The energy responded instantly, coiling around her like a tempest waiting to be unleashed.
Her eyes snapped open.
And the palace erupted into chaos.
All across the corridors, shadows came alive. Stormtroopers skidded to a halt as figures darted through the halls—cloaked warriors brandishing lightsabers, masked fighters fading in and out of existence. They moved with purpose, with deadly precision, their movements so real, so seamless, that even the most disciplined Imperials hesitated.
In the security center, officers watched in horror as multiple breach alerts appeared on their monitors. Footage flickered wildly—an entire strike team flooding the north entrance, slicing through defenses with brutal efficiency. Except no such team existed.
"Impossible," an officer muttered, sweat beading on his brow. "They weren't on the sensors a moment ago!"
A squad of stormtroopers rounded a corner and froze at the sight of a hooded Jedi, blue blade ignited. "Contact! Contact!" one of them shouted, raising his blaster. They opened fire—bolts cutting through the air—
But the figure didn't falter. It moved, sidestepping their shots, the saber twirling in a lethal arc—
And then it vanished.
Blaster burns pockmarked the wall behind where it had stood, but there was no body. No target. Nothing.
A squad commander barked orders into his comm, his voice edged with panic. "It's another kriffing Jedi trick! Switch to thermal!"
His visor adjusted—
And the hallway ahead of him was swarming with enemy signatures.
Jedi lunged from the shadows, sabers flashing, cutting through his men with terrifying speed. He screamed for backup—only for his entire squad to realize, all at once, that none of them had actually been hit.
The illusions didn't just exist in their eyes. They existed in their minds.
In the central corridor, a shadowed warrior cut down three troopers in a blur of motion. When reinforcements arrived, they found the bodies—or what they thought were bodies—dispersing into nothingness like smoke.
Barriss stood frozen, watching in stunned silence. This wasn't just a simple mind trick. This wasn't just a handful of illusions.
This was warfare.
Ahsoka was shaping an entire battle out of nothing, weaving it through the minds of dozens—no, hundreds—of trained soldiers and officers, overriding logic and sensors, bending reality itself. She didn't just fool their eyes. She rewrote their perception of the battlefield.
The Force bent around her in roaring waves, pulsing, alive. She was the eye of a raging storm, and the Imperials had already lost before they even realized they were fighting ghosts.
Barriss swallowed hard. "Ahsoka…" she whispered, unable to contain her awe.
Ahsoka exhaled slowly, her montrals twitching as she sensed the panic spreading like wildfire through the palace. Her fingers unclenched, but the power thrumming through her remained, ready to strike again. She turned, gaze razor-sharp.
"Come on," she said smoothly. "We need to move before they figure out none of this is real."
Barriss didn't argue. She fell into step beside Ahsoka as they slipped through the corridors, unseen, undetected. Behind them, the palace remained a war zone—officers shouting conflicting orders, squads running in circles, droids glitching and reporting combat data that didn't exist.
The entire Imperial Palace was drowning in illusions.
And Ahsoka Tano was its unseen architect.
The halls of the Imperial Palace were an unforgiving labyrinth of towering columns and cold durasteel, but Padmé and Anakin moved like a single entity, fluid and precise. The flickering red emergency lights cast their silhouettes against the walls as they navigated the corridors, their pace urgent but measured. R2-D2 trailed behind, his scanners sweeping for threats, his occasional worried beeps barely audible beneath the distant sounds of alarms and blaster fire.
Anakin's breathing remained uneven, the lingering effects of carbonite still wearing at him, but his grip on Padmé's hand was strong, unyielding. He hadn't let go since she freed him, holding onto her as though she were the only thing anchoring him to reality.
She squeezed his fingers in silent reassurance. Through their bond, she could feel the storm of emotions raging within him—disorientation, frustration, and an aching relief so fierce it nearly consumed him. He was with her. He was alive.
"We're almost there," she whispered, casting a glance over her shoulder. "A few more halls, and we'll be out."
Anakin nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with determination. "Good. I don't ever want to step foot in this place again." His voice was hoarse, but there was no mistaking the fire behind it—the same fire that had defined him for as long as she had known him.
Then they turned a corner. And froze.
A squadron of stormtroopers had already locked down the corridor, their white armor gleaming under the emergency lights. A barricade had been hastily constructed, and beyond it, at least a dozen blaster rifles snapped up, aiming straight at them.
"Stop right there!" the squad commander barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
Padmé's heart slammed against her ribs. Not now. Not when they were so close.
The tension lasted less than a second—because before she could react, Anakin moved.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't even think. With a flick of his wrist, the Force roared to life, an invisible tidal wave of power crashing down the hall. The air trembled with raw energy as the entire squad was lifted off their feet and hurled like rag dolls into the durasteel walls. Armor cracked, bodies crumpled. Those who remained standing scrambled for their triggers, but they were too slow.
Blasterfire erupted.
Padmé ignited her lightsabers in an instant, the twin blue blades spinning in a blur as she deflected the bolts with effortless precision. She and Anakin advanced together, instinct guiding them as if they had been fighting side by side for years.
Anakin didn't need a weapon. He was a weapon.
He moved with terrifying ease, his control of the Force seamless, absolute. One trooper barely had time to gasp before he was ripped from the ground, flung backward with bone-crushing force. Another's blaster was torn from his grip and sent spinning through the air—only for Anakin to seize it mid-flight, redirecting its trajectory with a mere thought, sending it hurtling into the faceplate of another soldier.
Padmé danced between them, striking with deadly grace. Her blades carved through the air, every deflection, every movement synchronized with Anakin's. She ducked as he lashed out with the Force, knocking an entire cluster of troopers off balance, leaving them open for her spinning strike.
A trooper lunged at her from behind. Anakin didn't turn. He simply extended a hand, and the man froze mid-step, his body locked in place as if trapped in duracrete. The soldier struggled, limbs trembling, his own blaster still raised but unable to fire. Anakin clenched his fingers—and the trooper crumpled unconscious to the floor.
Within moments, it was over.
The hall was silent but for the flickering lights and the quiet hum of Padmé's sabers as she slowly lowered them. Around them, the stormtroopers lay motionless, armor cracked, weapons scattered.
Padmé exhaled, shaking her head. "So much for a quiet escape."
Anakin turned to her, the corner of his mouth quirking in that familiar, lopsided smirk. "Since when have we ever done things quietly?"
She huffed out a laugh despite the tension. "Fair point."
R2-D2 rolled forward, emitting a frantic series of beeps as he projected a holo-map. Their planned escape route was compromised—more troopers would be converging on every exit to the lower levels in minutes.
Anakin barely spared the map a glance before making his decision.
"We can't go down," he said, his voice decisive. "We go up."
Padmé frowned. "The rooftop?"
Anakin nodded. "If we get there, we'll have a straight shot to the sky. Ahsoka's flying—she can pick us up."
It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was their only option.
She didn't argue. She trusted him.
"Let's move," she said.
Together, they turned, sprinting for the nearest stairwell. The halls were eerily empty now—Ahsoka's distractions were working. But even as they ran, Padmé couldn't shake the realization that burned in her chest.
Anakin Skywalker was back. And the Force had never felt stronger.
The corridors of the Imperial Palace stretched endlessly before them, a labyrinth of towering walls and dim flickering lights. Padmé and Anakin ran side by side, their footfalls nearly silent against the polished durasteel floors. The tension in the air was suffocating, but Padmé barely noticed it. All she could focus on was him—Anakin, alive, free, here with her.
She could sense the storm within him. The aftereffects of carbonite freezing still lingered in his body, slowing him slightly, but it was more than that. He had nothing—no armor, no weapon, nothing except his raw power and instincts. And though that had been enough to crush the troopers that had dared stand in their way, she knew he was missing something.
A familiar weight pressed against her hip.
"Ani, stop," she said suddenly, pulling him into the shadows of an archway.
Anakin turned to her, his breathing still uneven, his blue eyes questioning but patient.
She reached into the folds of her belt, her fingers brushing against cool metal. "I almost forgot."
The lightsaber hilt gleamed faintly in the low light—his lightsaber. The weapon she had carried with her since finding Luke on Tatooine months ago. The last piece of him she had left after Mustafar.
His breath hitched.
His hand moved toward it, then hesitated, hovering just over the metal. When his gaze lifted to hers, she saw something unspoken in his eyes—a flicker of uncertainty, of longing. "My lightsaber?" His voice was quiet, disbelieving. "Palpatine took it after he—after I—" His words faltered, as if the weight of the past still pressed down on him. "How?"
Padmé swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the hilt. "Obi-Wan took it after Mustafar." The name alone was a wound between them, but she pushed forward, her voice steady with conviction. "When I woke up—when I knew you were still out there—I had to get it back. I found Obi-Wan on Tatooine. He gave up on you, Ani." She held his gaze, her brown eyes fierce. "But I never did."
Anakin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was unreadable, but she felt the depth of his emotions through their bond.
Slowly, he reached forward, his fingers finally closing around the hilt.
The moment their hands touched, a pulse of warmth passed between them—an undeniable current in the Force. It thrummed in the space between them, strong and unbroken. A connection that had never truly faded, no matter how many years had passed.
Anakin exhaled softly, his fingers tracing the grooves of the hilt with reverence. He did not immediately ignite it; instead, he held it in his grip, familiarizing himself with the weight, the feel of it. It had been over a decade since he had wielded it, yet in this moment, it was as though no time had passed at all.
And then he looked at her—really looked at her.
Padmé felt the depth of his gratitude through their bond. Not just for the lightsaber, but for everything. For finding him. For believing in him. For never giving up, even when the rest of the galaxy had.
His fingers tightened around the hilt, and for the first time since waking from carbonite, Anakin stood taller.
"Come on," he said, his voice steadier now. "Let's get to the roof."
Padmé nodded. And as they turned and ran toward the stairwell, she knew—no matter what waited for them above, they would face it together.
The corridor leading to the rooftop was silent—too silent. Padmé and Anakin moved in tandem, their footfalls light as they rushed forward. The Force pulsed between them, guiding their steps, syncing their every movement. They could see the final stairwell ahead, the path to their escape, when suddenly—
A crimson blade ignited in the darkness.
A shadow emerged, tall and menacing, the Inquisitor's mask gleaming under the dim emergency lights. A cold, hissing voice echoed through the halls.
"I knew you'd come for him, Amidala." The Inquisitor's helmet tilted toward Anakin. "But I didn't expect you to wake him." The Sith assassin activated the second blade of their spinning lightsaber. "No matter. Lord Sidious will be pleased when I drag you both before him."
Anakin stepped forward instinctively, his sapphire blade igniting with a sharp hum. Padmé mirrored him, her own weapon flaring to life, casting a golden glow against the metallic walls.
The Inquisitor lunged.
Anakin moved first, his strikes a fierce storm—relentless, powerful. Padmé danced around him, her blade slipping between his attacks, precise and fluid. The Inquisitor barely had time to react before being forced onto the defensive.
Anakin's aggression was calculated but brutal, each strike hammering against the Inquisitor's spinning defenses. Padmé slipped into openings, her blade flicking against joints and weak points, forcing the enemy to divide their attention.
They moved as one.
The Inquisitor attempted to lock blades with Anakin, but Padmé was there, sweeping low with a kick that sent the Sith stumbling. Anakin seized the moment, his saber carving downward in a powerful arc. The Inquisitor barely blocked it, but the force of the blow sent them skidding back.
Padmé lunged forward, feinting left before slashing right—her blade slicing through the hilt of the Inquisitor's weapon, severing it in half. Sparks erupted as the remains of the lightsaber clattered to the ground. In the same breath, Anakin clenched his fist, sending the Inquisitor flying backward into the wall with a sickening crack.
The dark warrior slumped, dazed but still alive. He tried to push himself up—only for Anakin and Padmé to extend their hands at the same time.
A final, combined Force push sent the Inquisitor crashing through the railing, his body plummeting into the depths of the palace below.
Padmé and Anakin turned to each other, their breath heavy. Their Force bond thrummed between them, electric and powerful. They had moved together, fought together—as if no time had passed at all.
Anakin let out a breathless laugh. "Just like old times."
Padmé smiled, her heart racing. "Yeah. Just like old times."
Then a familiar voice crackled over their comm.
"Where are you two?" Ahsoka's voice was urgent. "We're at the rendezvous point, but you're not here."
Padmé grabbed the comm. "We had to change course. We're heading to the palace rooftop."
Ahsoka's response was immediate. "Understood. We'll get to you. Just hold on."
Padmé turned to Anakin. "Come on. Let's keep moving."
They ducked into a narrow corridor, the shadows swallowing them whole as the echoes of battle still hummed in the distance. The air was thick with the scent of scorched metal and sweat, the adrenaline of the fight still pulsing through their veins. Anakin exhaled sharply, pressing a hand against the wall to steady himself. His breaths came in slow, measured drags, as if each inhale was a reminder that he was alive—that he was awake.
"Padmé," he murmured, his voice rough. "Wait. Just... a moment."
Padmé turned, eyes scanning him with quiet concern. He was strong—he had always been strong—but this was different. The weight of lost time, of years stolen from him, lingered in the slump of his shoulders. She stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on his arm.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice softer now, less urgent.
He let out a breath that wasn't quite a laugh, but something bitter and tired. "I don't know," he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flickering to hers before shifting away. "It's been—" He stopped, shaking his head. "I don't even know how long it's been."
Padmé swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against his sleeve. "Too long," she said, the words thick with unspoken grief.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The battle, the danger, all of it faded into the background as the weight of their reunion settled between them.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The battle, the danger—everything around them faded into the background as the weight of their reunion settled between them. Padmé kept her hand on Anakin's arm, grounding him, keeping him here with her.
Anakin closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a steadying breath. "It feels like I just blinked," he murmured. "Like one moment I was fighting, and the next... I was here." His brow furrowed, frustration creeping into his voice. "But everything's different. You—" His gaze softened as he looked at her. "You look the same, but I know it's been years."
Padmé exhaled, her fingers tightening slightly against his sleeve. "It has," she admitted. "And so much has happened."
Anakin's jaw tensed. "How many?"
Padmé hesitated, knowing the answer would weigh heavily on him. "Seven years," she finally said.
Anakin's breath hitched, and he looked away, staring at the cold metal floor beneath them. "Seven years," he whispered, shaking his head. "I should have been there."
Padmé's expression softened. "You're here now."
He let out a bitter breath. "I don't even know where 'here' is anymore."
Padmé touched his face, gently guiding his eyes back to hers. "Then let's start at the beginning," she said. "Tell me what happened, Ani. What happened that day? How did it come to this?"
Anakin swallowed hard, his throat tight as memories surged back—memories of Sidious, of pain, of betrayal, and of his last desperate stand. He met her gaze, and for the first time since waking, the fear in his eyes was raw.
"It started with a lie," he said quietly. "And it ended with a choice."
Anakin exhaled sharply, running a trembling hand through his hair. The weight of the past pressed down on him, and for a moment, he wasn't here—wasn't in this dimly lit passageway with Padmé. He was back in the Chancellor's office, staring at Mace Windu and Darth Sidious locked in battle by the window.
"I went to confront him," Anakin murmured, his voice distant. "I knew what he was. I knew. But when I got there, Mace was already fighting him. The Jedi were trying to stop him, but—" he hesitated, jaw tightening. "I didn't know who to trust. I was conflicted, Padmé. I wanted to do the right thing, but I was terrified. Terrified of losing you."
Padmé listened intently, her fingers still resting on his sleeve, anchoring him to the present.
"I thought if I stopped Mace from killing him, if we could take him alive, then maybe... maybe there was another way. Maybe he could still help me save you." He let out a bitter breath. "But that was my undoing. My hesitation, my fear—it gave him the opening he needed. The moment Mace was dead, I knew I'd made a mistake. I realized then that turning to the dark side would only drive you away from me. That it would destroy me."
His fingers curled into fists. "That's when I attacked him. I fought with everything I had, but I wasn't enough. My fear made me weak, and he used it against me. He was stronger, faster—like he had been waiting for that moment all along," He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling unevenly. "The power he wielded—it wasn't like anything I had faced before. Not even Dooku, not even Ventress or Grievous. It was... suffocating. It was pure." His jaw tightened. "And I fought. I fought with everything I had."
Padmé could see it—the battle playing out in his mind as if he were reliving it.
"I landed a hit. More than one," he said, his voice bitter. "He wasn't invincible. But every time I thought I had the upper hand, he'd twist it around. He wanted me to think I had a chance. And then he—" Anakin swallowed, the memory flashing behind his eyes. "Then he used the lightning."
Padmé flinched, memories of her own encounter with Sidious flashing through her mind.
"It was like nothing I had ever felt before," Anakin continued, quieter now. "Not just pain. It was deeper than that. It was like he was ripping the Force from me, tearing it out strand by strand." His breathing was heavier, ragged. "I fell. I couldn't move. And he stood over me, laughing. Laughing, Padmé. Like it was a game."
Padmé clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening over his. "But you didn't die."
Anakin's expression darkened. "No," he said hoarsely. "He wanted to keep me. Preserve me." A haunted look crossed his face. "He said I was too valuable to waste. That I was a legacy of the Sith, whether I accepted it or not. And then—" His voice caught, his fists clenching. "Then everything went dark."
Padmé's breath hitched. "The carbonite."
Anakin nodded, his throat working as he forced down the memory. "The last thing I remember is him standing over me, his hand raised. And then... nothing. No dreams, no time. Just silence." He exhaled shakily, looking down at his hands. "Until you woke me up."
Padmé squeezed his fingers. "I should've found you sooner."
"You found me now," Anakin said, his voice rough. He turned to her, his gaze searching. "But I need to know—what happened while I was gone? What has he done since then?"
Padmé took a breath, steadying herself. "Everything," she said grimly.
And with that, she began to tell him.
"After that day, everything fell apart," she said, her voice steady but laced with sorrow. "Obi-Wan told me what happened at the Temple. He said you... that Vader had done terrible things. I refused to believe it. I went to Mustafar to find you, to bring you back." Her grip on his hand tightened. "But it wasn't you, Anakin. It was him. Vader."
Anakin's entire body went rigid. His breathing became shallow, and his gaze darkened. "What did he do to you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with barely restrained fury.
Padmé hesitated, but she knew she had to be honest with him. "He hurt me," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "He lashed out in his rage... he nearly killed me. If it hadn't been for Obi-Wan, I—I don't know if I would have survived."
Anakin's hands trembled. His mechanical fist clenched so tightly that the servos whined in protest. "That monster," he growled, his teeth grinding together. "I should have been stronger. I should have—"
Padmé reached out, cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Ani, listen to me. You are here. That's what matters now."
"Shortly after I went into labor and I gave birth to our children.
His breathing slowed, but the storm of emotions in his eyes remained. "Children? Twins?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
A soft smile touched Padmé's lips. "Yes, Luke and Leia. They're alive, Ani. But, after I gave birth… I was dying, Anakin."
His breath would catch, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "No," he'd whisper, shaking his head as if denying it could make it untrue.
She would press on, knowing he needed to hear it. "I was weak… barely holding on. Obi-Wan—he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't save me, and there was no time. He made a choice—he put me in carbonite. It was the only way to stop me from slipping away completely."
Anakin's entire body would tense. "Obi-Wan froze you?" His voice would be tight with anger, disbelief. "You were suffering, and he just—"
"He saved my life," she would say firmly, cutting off his fury before it could consume him. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't be here."
Anakin's jaw would clench, his emotions warring inside him, but he would say nothing.
Padmé would take a steadying breath before continuing. "With me gone, the twins—Luke and Leia—they couldn't stay together. It was too dangerous. Obi-Wan and Bail decided to separate them."
Anakin would look at her sharply. "Separate?"
She nods. "Leia was taken to Alderaan. Bail and Breha raised her as their daughter. And Luke… he was sent to Tatooine, to live with Owen and Beru Lars."
Anakin's expression was shocked at the mention of Owen, but the weight of what she was saying would sink in. His children had grown up apart. Never knowing their parents. Never knowing each other.
"But I found them, Anakin. They're both safe, and they're together now, waiting for us to come home."
Anakin's eyes widened, disbelief mingling with a rush of joy. "Together?"
"Yes," Padmé affirmed, her voice filled with warmth. "They're together, strong, and waiting for us. We can build a life for them, a family—our family." She leaned closer, her forehead resting against the carbonite. "I've waited so long for this moment, and I know you have too."
Anakin's heart swelled with emotion as he absorbed her words. The thought of their children, alive and safe, was a light piercing through the darkness that had consumed him for so long. "We'll get them back," he vowed softly, a fierce determination igniting within him. "I won't let anything tear us apart again."
As the warmth of Padmé's presence enveloped him, Anakin's senses suddenly sharpened. A chill raced down his spine, a familiar dark presence looming just beyond the horizon. He could feel the oppressive weight of the Force, the unmistakable aura of Sidious seeping into the air like a poison.
"Padmé," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "we're not alone."
Padmé's eyes widened, her brow furrowing with concern. "What is it?"
Anakin took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "Sidious is here. I can feel him on the rooftop." He turned to face her, determination igniting in his gaze. "We have to be ready for a fight. He won't let us escape so easily."
Padmé nodded, her resolve firming. "What do we do?"
Anakin stepped closer, his presence steadying hers. "Stay close to me. We'll face him together. I won't let him take you or our children again."
As they prepared themselves, Anakin felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He had been consumed by darkness for far too long, but now he was ready to fight for the light, for Padmé, and for the future they could still create.
"Let's go," he said, taking her hand in his. "We'll show him that he can't control us."
Together, they moved toward the door, the weight of their past lingering but overshadowed by the strength of their bond. Anakin felt the dark energy grow stronger, a storm brewing as they stepped into the unknown, ready to confront the man who had torn their lives apart.
The wind howled across the rooftop, whipping through Padmé's hair as she and Anakin emerged into the open. The sprawling cityscape of Coruscant stretched infinitely before them, a dazzling array of lights and shadows, but their path to freedom was blocked.
A cloaked figure loomed at the edge of the landing platform, the night twisting around him like a living shadow. His presence was suffocating, a black hole in the Force that dimmed the very air around him.
Sidious.
The Emperor's sunken eyes gleamed beneath his hood, his expression a mask of twisted fury. Gnarled fingers curled as he took a slow step forward, dark energy crackling around him like an impending storm. The very ground beneath them trembled with his malevolence.
"I see you've reunited at last…" Sidious sneered, his voice a guttural hiss that cut through the chaos. "But where are my true prizes? Where are the twins?"
Anakin stepped forward, tilting his head slightly, the blue glow of his lightsaber illuminating the fierce determination in his eyes. "You'll have to live with the disappointment, Sidious—seems you're fresh out of Skywalkers."
Padmé shot him a quick look, half-exasperated, half-amused.
Sidious's lips twisted into a grotesque smile, revealing a maw of hatred. "You think you can defy me? You think you can escape?" His voice dropped into something deeper, darker. "You are nothing but embers of a fire I already snuffed out."
Anakin ignited his lightsaber with a sharp snap-hiss, the blade humming with latent energy. "Funny, I don't remember being extinguished the first time."
Padmé mirrored him, her azure blade illuminating her determined face. Together, they stood side by side, a force to be reckoned with against the embodiment of darkness.
Sidious raised his hands, and the storm broke.
Lightning erupted from his fingertips, raw, unnatural power lashing toward them like a living serpent. Anakin barely had time to react, throwing his saber up to absorb the attack. The force of it sent him staggering back, but he gritted his teeth and held firm. Padmé ducked aside, rolling into position before launching forward with a precise strike, her heart racing.
Sidious moved impossibly fast, his crimson blade igniting in an instant. He parried her attack with a force that reverberated through her arms, sending her stumbling. Anakin was already on him, their sabers clashing in a flurry of sparks, the air crackling with energy as they fought for dominance.
Sidious fought like a phantom, his strikes swift and unpredictable. He spun between them, his attacks calculated to separate them, to break their formation. He was a storm unleashed, dark and ferocious, and yet they would not break.
Anakin pressed forward, each blow powerful and relentless, forcing Sidious back with the sheer weight of his fury. "You've underestimated us!" he roared, his voice echoing across the rooftop. Every strike was fueled by a deep well of anger and defiance, the very essence of Anakin Skywalker unleashed.
Padmé was the counterweight—where Anakin was fire, she was precision, striking at the gaps in Sidious's defenses. "Focus, Anakin!" she shouted, her blade a flash of blue light cutting through the darkness. Together, they danced on the edge of chaos, the rooftop becoming a storm of light and shadow as red clashed against blue.
Sidious snarled, thrusting his hand forward—an invisible wave of energy slammed into Padmé, sending her skidding backward across the rooftop. Anakin's heart sank as he saw her struggle, but he roared in defiance, surging toward the Sith Lord with renewed ferocity. Yet Sidious was waiting, a wicked grin curling his lips.
A sudden bolt of Sith lightning struck Anakin square in the chest, blue energy arcing across his body. He convulsed, but his grip tightened on his saber as he fought against the pain, rage igniting within him like a wildfire.
Padmé forced herself up, breathless and resolute, stretching out with the Force. The air around Anakin shimmered as she poured her energy into him, reinforcing his defenses. "You can do this!" she urged, her voice a beacon in the dark.
Sidious growled, contempt dripping from his words. "Your bond is nothing! It will not save you!"
Anakin lifted his head, his body ablaze with pain, but his gaze locked onto Padmé. Their connection flared, stronger than ever, their trust unshakable even in the face of despair. He could feel her strength coursing through him, a lifeline against the tide of darkness.
And then—
Fire.
A deep, primal force ignited within Anakin, the air around him glowing as blue flames roared to life. He thrust his hand forward, unleashing a torrent of raw energy. An inferno burst from his palm, engulfing Sidious in a maelstrom of flames.
The Sith Lord shrieked, twisting away as the unnatural fire seared his robes, licking at his skin with unrelenting fury. "No! This cannot be!" he howled, but Anakin was relentless.
Seizing the moment, Padmé sent a powerful Force Push straight into Sidious's chest. The impact lifted him off his feet, sending him hurtling backward into the edge of the platform. For the first time, the Emperor staggered, caught off guard by their combined might.
Anakin and Padmé stood together, their combined strength overwhelming the darkness before them. "We will not be your puppets!" Anakin declared, his voice a thunderous promise.
And then, in the distance—
"Anakin! Padmé! Get ready for pickup!" Ahsoka's voice crackled through their comms, the sound a lifeline of hope.
Anakin twirled his saber, stepping beside Padmé, adrenaline coursing through him. "Time to go."
Padmé nodded, gripping his hand for the briefest moment, their connection solidifying their resolve. They turned toward the edge of the platform, ready to make their final escape.
But Sidious was not done. With a furious roar, he gathered the remnants of his power. Lightning flared once more, more intense than before, a storm born of wrath and desperation.
Anakin's instincts kicked in. "Padmé, get back!" he shouted, and with a surge of determination, he launched himself forward, channeling the Force into every fiber of his being. The rooftop became a battleground, and Anakin Skywalker was not just a Jedi—he was a force of nature, ready to confront the darkness and emerge victorious.
The air crackled with dark energy as Sidious staggered back, the glow of Anakin's blue flames flickering across his tattered robes. Smoke curled from his scorched sleeves as he snarled, his eyes burning with unrestrained hatred.
"You think you've won?" Sidious hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You think you can destroy me?"
Anakin didn't answer with words. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, centering himself as he reached deep into the Force. Power surged through him like a tidal wave gathering strength before the storm. The rooftop trembled beneath his feet, an echo of the ancient power that swirled within him. He could feel the very fabric of reality bending, warping in response to his will.
Padmé stepped beside him, sensing his intent through their bond. Without hesitation, she reached out, her presence a steady anchor in the tempest of power that swirled around them. Together, they became a singular force, their connection fueling Anakin's strength.
With a single, deliberate motion, Anakin extended his hand toward the looming ruins of the Jedi Council chamber. The Force responded instantly, roaring through him like fire in his veins. The ancient structure groaned, debris trembling before lifting into the air as if caught in the grip of an unseen titan. Remnants of the chamber—where Jedi Masters had once deliberated and where Anakin himself had stood in judgment—now answered only to him.
Sidious's twisted face contorted in realization, a flash of fear darting across his features. "No!" he bellowed, trying to summon his own power, but he was too slow, too weak against the overwhelming tide of Anakin's resolve.
Anakin clenched his fist.
With a deafening roar, the ruins came crashing down. Massive stone slabs and durasteel beams plummeted, striking Sidious with devastating force. The dark lord's scream was swallowed by the avalanche of destruction as the once-proud chamber collapsed, burying him beneath its own weight.
A shockwave rippled outward as dust and debris engulfed the rooftop, the structure groaning beneath the immense impact. Silence followed—save for the distant wail of sirens echoing from the city below.
Anakin exhaled slowly, his heart pounding in the aftermath of exertion. The sheer power he had unleashed coursed through him, igniting a newfound sense of purpose. Padmé reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, their bond shimmering with shared triumph and unyielding hope.
For the first time in years, Anakin Skywalker felt free.
But their moment of respite was short-lived. A sharp whine of repulsorlifts cut through the dust-filled air. The Phantom's Vengeance swooped low over the ruined rooftop, its lights piercing through the smoke. The boarding ramp was already descending, and through the cockpit window, Barriss's determined gaze locked onto them.
"Skywalker! Padmé! Jump!"
Blaster fire erupted from the lower levels—Imperial reinforcements were closing in. They had mere seconds before the rooftop would be swarming with troopers.
Padmé and Anakin exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. No hesitation.
Together, they sprinted forward. Anakin leaped first, his movements fluid and effortless, the Force propelling him with a supernatural grace. He soared through the air, landing on the ramp with a thud, turning to reach out toward Padmé.
"Now!" he called, urgency lacing his voice.
Padmé launched herself into the air, her heart racing as the ground fell away beneath her. For a moment, she was weightless, suspended between the collapsing ruins and the ship's safety. Anakin's strong grip found hers, pulling her into his arms just as the ramp sealed shut behind them.
Ahsoka didn't wait. "We're out of here!"
The ship rocketed upward, engines roaring as it banked away from the burning palace. Below, Coruscant's skyline erupted into chaos—alarms blared, searchlights swept across the towering spires, and Imperial forces scrambled in disarray, but they had escaped the immediate threat.
Inside the ship, Anakin and Padmé caught their breath, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins. She pressed her forehead to his, their connection humming with relief and victory, a shared heartbeat amidst the chaos.
The Phantom's Vengeance hummed softly as it stabilized in open space, the chaotic backdrop of Coruscant slipping away into the vastness of the galaxy. Its oppressive skyline was left behind in a flash of blue as the ship rocketed into hyperspace, the familiar stars swirling into streaks of light.
Inside the dimly lit main hold, the weight of everything they had just endured settled around them like an unseen force. The battle, the escape, the destruction of the Jedi Temple ruins, the Emperor's wrath—it all lingered in the silence, heavy and palpable.
Anakin sat on one of the benches, his breathing still a little unsteady, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He was free, but the toll of his long imprisonment—years spent frozen in carbonite, helpless and lost—was undeniable. Even now, his hands trembled slightly as he held Padmé's in his own, grounding himself in her warmth and presence, a lifeline in the storm of his emotions.
Padmé sat beside him, never letting go, her fingers warm and steady against his own. She had fought for this moment—fought through the darkness and despair that had tried to take him from her time and again. The galaxy had conspired to separate them, but here he was, alive, beside her. The thought made her throat tighten, and she squeezed his hand tighter as if to reassure herself that he was really there.
"I'm here," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm against the turmoil that roiled within him. "I won't leave you."
Anakin lifted his gaze to hers, his blue eyes soft with emotion, reflecting the depth of their bond. "I know," he murmured. He turned her hand over, running his thumb gently along her palm, memorizing the sensation of her touch, the warmth that surged through him like sunlight after a long, bitter winter. "You saved me."
Padmé swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. "You would've done the same," she replied, her voice steady yet filled with the unshed tears of relief.
The warmth of their bond pulsed between them, unshaken by time, unbroken by all they had endured. In this moment, surrounded by the aftermath of chaos, there was only the two of them, a haven amidst the storm.
Then a quiet voice cut through the stillness, hesitant and unsure.
"…Anakin?"
Ahsoka stood a few feet away, her form shadowed in the dim light, arms wrapped around herself as if she were afraid that if she stepped closer, he might vanish into the depths of the Force again. Her face was a canvas of uncertainty—an unreadable mask that hid the torrent of emotions roiling beneath. But her eyes—wide and searching—were filled with something raw and fragile, a longing that mirrored Anakin's own.
For a long moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. Then Anakin exhaled, something deep inside him breaking loose. He stood, his legs still weak from disuse, but he didn't care. He crossed the space between them in three swift strides, reaching for her just as she surged forward, propelled by an overwhelming need to be near him.
The moment Ahsoka slammed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his middle, a sharp breath left him—more from emotion than impact. She clung to him, her head pressing against his chest, her body trembling as the reality of his presence sank in.
"You're really here," she whispered, voice thick with emotion, her warmth seeping into him like a balm. "You're really here."
Anakin closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her, feeling the familiar shape of her body against his. "I'm here, Snips," he breathed, letting the name slip from his lips like a sacred promise. His voice broke on the words, and he let out a shuddering breath. "I'm here."
The dam burst within her. Ahsoka sucked in a shaky breath, gripping the fabric of his tunic as if trying to anchor him to her, as though he could slip away again at any moment. She had spent years believing he was lost—thinking the man she had once followed into battle, the man who had been her teacher, her brother, her best friend—was gone forever.
Now, after everything, he stood before her again. Alive.
A sob tore from her throat before she could stop it. "I—" She swallowed hard, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, her own shimmering with unshed tears that reflected their shared pain and joy. "I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead."
Anakin brushed a hand over her shoulder, his voice gentle but firm, each word heavy with meaning. "You didn't. You never did."
Ahsoka let out a breathless, watery laugh, the sound a mixture of relief and disbelief. "Took you long enough."
That made him chuckle, even as his own eyes burned with emotion. "Yeah… guess I was on ice for a while."
She groaned playfully, pulling back just enough to swat his arm. "That was awful."
"I know." His smile softened, a warmth that spread through both of them. "But I missed you."
Ahsoka swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as she nodded, a shy smile breaking through her tears. "I missed you too."
Padmé watched the exchange, her heart aching at the sight of them—master and apprentice, separated for far too long, now finally reunited. The depth of their connection was undeniable, and even Barriss, standing quietly near the doorway, had turned away slightly, giving them a moment of privacy, aware of the significance of this reunion.
The ship trembled slightly as it made the final jump into hyperspace, the familiar sensation of speed enveloping them. Padmé exhaled, relief washing over her like a gentle tide. They were safe. They had won.
Anakin looked at Ahsoka, then at Padmé, taking another deep breath as if trying to process the reality of the moment—that after all this time, he was no longer alone. The warmth of their presence, the strength of their bond, enveloped him, filling the emptiness that had haunted him for years.
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Anakin Skywalker wasn't falling. He was home.
Woww. You know I've decided not to end it here. I guess a reunion with the Skywalker family is must I suppose. The next chapter won't be up for a while though. I'm not sure when. A couple weeks for sure.