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Topic:
Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
3/22 1:50pm
Subject:
Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
- Date Edited:
8/18 7:01am (36 edits total)
Edited By:
Helen_Taft
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Title: Purgatory (Prologue and Chapter One)
Author: Helen_Taft
Genres: Angst/Action/Romance
Pairing: Anakin/Padmé
Summary: As if the comment Obi-Wan had made to Luke about Anakin ‘dying’ when he became Darth Vader was literally true, a newly dead Anakin Skywalker wakes in a new world—given the appearance of his twenty-three year old self. However, the self-sacrifice that ended his life has also given Anakin an unexpected boon that he isn’t sure he can accept. Worse, it comes with conditions that might just be impossible to meet. A moment of redemption is one thing, but a full reformation another entirely. Set immediately after ROTJ.
Disclaimer: Star Wars and all characters from that 'verse belong to George Lucas and Lucas Arts. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.
Note (1): Huge Thanks to NIKEJ for the belated beta *hugs her*. Also, thanks to VaderLVR64 for the help on where I can post this story.
PROLOGUE
Vader knew he was dead. He was blind and could feel nothing of his body. As his thoughts were all that were left to him, he let his mind wander. With surprising complaisance, he recalled the peace of the last few minutes of his life. Ironically, they’d been full of sirens blaring and punctuated by blasts and explosions, all under-toned by voices ripe with panic and confusion. He’d been in pain, he remembered, although he felt none now. He dwelt on that memory aboard the doomed Death Star, and the fact that dying had felt oddly euphoric. For the first time in twenty three years, he had been suffused with light—through love for his son.
His last weak-voiced request echoed in his mind, You were right… you were right about me. Tell your sister… You were right…"
He hoped Luke did, and prayed it would be enough for his daughter to begin to forgive her father.
He drifted a few moments until another memory butted in, rife with confusion; his own. He’d been in a forest. The glade had been full of jubilant noise and Master Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi were standing beside him. For a split-second it had been as if he had never become Darth Vader, instead remaining Anakin Skywalker and a Jedi. But, of course, he had become Vader, dedicating himself to fulfilling the demands of his Sith Master; corrupted, addicted, monstrous. Nothing could change that. No-one can wipe out the past.
Still, it had been worth the illusion to see Luke one more time. The bonus had also meant he could lay eyes on the daughter he hadn’t realised was his own flesh and blood. He should have guessed he thought now, she had Padmé’s eyes.
That name—one he hadn’t allowed himself to even think of in decades—caused him to feel a bittersweet poignancy that was a thousand times more painful than dying. If he was truthful, she’d been hovering at the edge of his mind ever since their son had come into his life. He’d managed to keep her out by sheer force of will, habit and necessity. Palpatine would have sensed it and some small part of Vader had not wanted to hear her name on his master’s lips. Still, in all of those years while he’d hunted for Luke and hatched plots, she’d refused to disappear. Now, because of his daughter, he could no longer keep her out.
They had created wonderful children, he and Padmé. He suffered another flashback, short but lancing; liquid brown eyes shining in a face that glowed with youth, beauty and wonder, and trepidation. “Something wonderful has happened. I’m….Ani, I’m pregnant.”
It was a pitch-perfect memory of her voice with every nuance captured. This time he actually moaned—a long, low sound that his mask could never have reproduced. “Padmé.”
Complaisance fled.
His love for his son had paved the way and the door had remained open even in death. Every painful emotion he’d let atrophy for so long slammed into him. It was too much. He couldn’t think about her. He wouldn’t. He hadn’t since the day he’d been told that she was dead. Blind to anything else and twisted already by his new master, he’d committed atrocities to save her and killed her himself. On that day, in that moment, his overwhelming despair burnt every single shred of emotion left to him, except for hate, anger and malice—leaving only a vessel to the dark side. There had been room for nothing else because there had been nothing else to live for. His choice had been made. He had only ever really suffered when he’d still been Anakin Skywalker. Like now.
It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten.
The pain woke both his body and his senses.
CHAPTER ONE
Before he’d even opened his eyes impressions bombarded Anakin; rough, course weave chaffed under his shoulder-blades and across his loins, covering his face. A chill breeze like ghostly fingers traced his chest under the covering. The loamy smell of dirt mingled with the musk of body odour. Opening his eyes, he jack-knifed upright so fast his head spun sickly. As he did, the shroud fell from his head.
What he saw made no sense. He was still lying on the hanger-bay floor onboard the Battle Star. Only now it was completely, eerily silent. White-armoured stormtroopers raced past in urgent groups, powerless to fight back at the destruction going on all around them, yet their yells and pounding feet were utterly soundless. There was no dirt, nor a breeze to explain the scents still present.
Anakin took a breath, expecting it to be an impotent action. Only to find cool, crisp air slide easily into his lungs. There was no rasp of a respirator to accompany it. Confused, he looked down at himself and froze. He appeared to lying on a wooden pallet, but that wasn’t what caused him to gape and stare. He was naked under a greyish-white sheet of cloth. There was no sign of his mask, black armour or life support system. In their place he had two arms, what looked like two legs under the covering, and an unmarred chest.
How could this be possible?
Bewildered, he held out his arms, twisting and turning them, and staring. The smooth skin, sinews and muscle felt alien to him. “What is going on?” he asked out loud.
No answer was forthcoming. He got to his feet, wrapping the sheet around his waist several times to cover his nakedness. As he did so, it occurred to him that he had never taken the time to consider what happened after death. At first he’d been too young and convinced of his invulnerability, and later he’d been a Sith.
Sith Lords only worry about the here and now.
Here and now was a part of his problem. “Where am I?” He expected no answer and was shocked when he got one.
“Don’t worry about that. This is only an illusion that I thought might ease your transition. Your body is actually elsewhere.”
An old man wearing Jedi robes was striding towards him. Seeing the familiar, smiling face, Anakin’s heart leapt in his chest before being smothered by confusion. He’d been so disoriented he hadn’t sensed his one-time mentor’s approach. “Obi-Wan? I—what are you doing here?”
The smile grew wider, lighting warm blue eyes. “Hello, Anakin. It’s been a long time.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s been that long since our last encounter,” he said stiffly, referring to their later, deadlier dual. The confusion didn’t clear. Anakin had loved this man like a father for fourteen years, and then hated him as a betrayer and nemesis for twenty three more. The hate was gone, but the memories remained. His response had been knee-jerk and it shamed him. “I’m sorry,” he added. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Having found a shuttle to lean against with his arms negligently folded, Obi-Wan brushed off his apology. “No, no. I should be apologising to you. For one thing, I’m late.”
Anakin quirked a brow. “You always were if I recall correctly.”
“Occasionally,” Obi-Wan conceded with a rueful smile. “But with you there to save the day without me it hardly mattered.”
That statement threatened to drown him in both memories and remorse, so Anakin ignored it to ask, “What did you mean about this being an illusion? I don’t understand.”
“I’ll be happy to explain it all to you.” Obi-Wan pushed away from the shuttle’s nose. “But first I suggest we move to somewhere a little less busy.” He gestured towards the roof over their heads which was shaking ominously. “I have a feeling that thing is about to come down and while it won’t hurt, it would certainly be distracting.” He paused, then tacked on with a twitch of his lips, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing where Palpatine met his end, if you’re willing?”
The request was no more surreal than the circumstances and so Anakin agreed. They wandered up towards the throne room, retracing the steps the dying Vader had taken with Luke. Around them the illusions of Imperial panic still raced pointlessly. As they walked, Obi-Wan began his rambling explanation.
“Your body is currently lying on that same pallet you woke up on here. Only instead of being inside this battle station, you’re in what we think of as a way station between two entirely different planes of existence. It is known merely as the second world. The one below it is home to those who are considered irredeemable—a thoroughly unpleasant place. The one above is for the more enlightened beings. You, and many others like you, are in the middle.” He continued before Anakin could think of a response. “In a very real way you’re being given a second chance to decide your eventual fate.”
The elevator that would take them up the tower to the throne room opened seamlessly. “My eventual fate being to go up or down?” asked Anakin as they moved inside. The doors shut again with a subdued hum.
“Exactly. However, I must warn you that there are real dangers in that place and to die again, before you are ready, would mean going straight down with no chance of an up.”
Having arrived at their destination, the doors opened again. Anakin made no move to exit the enclosed space. “Atonement,” he intoned, blankly, disbelievingly, “Is that what this is about?”
In the feeble light, Obi-Wan inclined his head in agreement. “Precisely.”
“But that’s insane,” Anakin said flatly, whirling on his one-time master. “You of all people must know how impossible such a thing must be. The things I did—”
“A few days ago…no, mere hours ago, you would have said there was nothing to atone for; that everything you’ve done is to bring peace to the galaxy and maintain order. The fact that you feel differently now is definite progress in my eyes.”
Anakin took no comfort from that statement. Pointedly, bitterly, he shot back, “You call it progress that I realised decades too late just how monstrous I had let myself become. I have no defence, no excuse. If Luke hadn’t come here I might never have done so. How is that redemption?”
Agitated, Anakin stalked out into the blackness of the now empty throne room. He didn’t notice the debris that now littered the walkway bridging the abyss that had swallowed the emperor. How to possibly explain the lure of the dark side of the Force, of an insidious craving for power that knew no limit, and the strength of a master who had literally lifted you out of the jaws of death and rebuilt you? It just wasn’t possible, and neither was explaining its opposite—the self-abhorrence and remorse he’d felt upon his release from the emperor’s influence.
Instead of answering, Obi-Wan followed and stopped at the rail over which Palapatine had been thrown. “It was this spot if memory serves me.”
“You were watching?”
“I was cheering,” Obi-Wan corrected, with a smile.
That image was heart-warming, but it changed nothing. “As I said, it was too little far too late. I should have killed him when I first found out what he was.” Saving Padmé, saving himself and far too many others. Atonement couldn’t possibly be further out of reach. Full of despair, Anakin shook his head and turned away, walking up the steps to the Dais holding the throne itself.
“Tell me why you killed your master?” requested Obi-Wan, changing the subject with his usual aplomb.
“To save my son and because I’d seen myself through his eyes—bad and good,” Anakin told a patiently waiting Obi-Wan without looking at him. “I suppose it made me see things in another way. It cleared my mind. I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Then this shouldn’t be too hard. You were an incredible Jedi once, Anakin. Many of us agree that you were the best of all of us in a lot of ways. Surely you remember the tremendous amount of good you did before your fall to the dark side.”
I am a Jedi, like my father before me. Luke’s statement in refusing the emperor, spoken right in this room, both soothed and goaded.
Memories of his previous Jedi existence had been repressed for too long to be easily, or painlessly, retrieved. Anakin was not up to digging them up just yet. “Atonement,” he repeated, moving over to stare out of the webbed, circular viewport from which Luke had been forced to watch the battle between Alliance and Imperial ships. “You really believe it’s possible for me?”
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Silently, Obi-Wan closed the distance between them. “I believe in you. More importantly, there is no longer a destiny to get in the way. The Chosen One is done—finished. You accomplished what needed to be achieved and now it’s up to Luke and the others.”
The hand that settled on his shoulder was surprisingly solid, comforting and painfully familiar. “I failed you once before.” Anakin had to swallow to finish, “I’m still that man. Worse, I’ve spent half my life consumed by darkness. My memories of being a Sith Lord are far clearer and stronger than that of my previous life. What if I can’t forget and revert to the dark side?” He turned to the man who’d been both father and victim. “I’d hoped to end my existence on a good note.” His voice held both complaint and plea. “I thought I was finished.”
“By all accounts there was supposed to be no turning back from the dark side,” countered Obi-Wan, softly. “Yet you found a way to love again right here in this accursed place. I once told Luke that his father had been killed by Darth Vader. Why not reverse it and start again…consider yourself reborn exactly as you were when you died and became him?” His smile was half wry and half amused as he waved his free hand at the reflection of Anakin’s bare chest, “After all, you look the part. Better even.”
That was news to Anakin. He’d been too concerned with other things to worry about his reflection. Now he did and it was like looking into a window to the past. He didn’t just have an organic body back, but his youth as well. He’d been twenty three years old when he’d succumbed to the dark side, with scars already and a prosthetic arm—not anymore. Nonplussed and with simmering impatience, he shook his head, “I still think that this is impossible.”
“I saw you achieve the impossible in this infernal Death Star. I have faith in you,” said Obi-Wan, stepping away. “Now it’s time that you found some in yourself.”
None of this was making any sense. Unable to stop himself, Anakin turned to follow, arguing with the older man as he been wont to do as a frustrated padawan, “Love turned me to the dark side, how can you now say that it also saved me from it? It’s contradictory”
“Perhaps, my linear loving friend, but it is also true. At the last minute love redeemed you from the mire of the dark side of the force.” Folding his hands in front of him, Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head. “There were many and myriad reasons why Palpatine was able to corrupt you. The Jedi order must take some of the blame too. We—I—underestimated your capacity and desire for love. That was our first mistake, but there was another. We also failed to realise that our fear of love was in itself a weakness. The emperor exploited that. He knew that you would have no-one to turn to with your fears for Padmé.”
“That is an oversimplification.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to meditate on the more complex elements on the second world. Understanding where we went wrong is an essential step to redemption.”
Anakin didn’t know what to say, so the silence lengthened.
Obi-Wan broke it. “I have to go soon and so do you for that matter. Apart from anything else, this battle station is well overdue blowing up into a million tiny smithereens.” He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about where you are going. Even as we speak there is an old woman called Tenku waiting for you to wake up. With any luck, she’ll have some clothing for you, but first I want to give you this.”
From beneath his voluminous robes, he pulled out a large drawstring bag and held it out. “As I said before, the second world is a dangerous, treacherous place. I don’t doubt that you’ll need it.”
Anakin could only stare at it, sensing the crystals inside. “You’re giving me a lightsaber?” As before he felt for a brief, dizzying moment that the dark years had never happened and he was merely taking a gift from his mentor and friend. It only lasted a moment before reality once again intruded.
“Consider it an aid to meditation,” smiled Obi-Wan. “Besides, you really will need it.”
Finally reaching out to take the heavy bag, Anakin was embarrassed to feel his eyes burn. He had to duck his head to hide the telling reaction. Inside, uncertainty churned with fear. “Will you come and talk to me again?” he asked finally, hating the thought of being alone.
“If I can I will.” Turning to go, Obi-Wan hesitated, apparently debating with himself and then turned back, his face grave. “I have one more warning for you. Padmé is there too, Anakin.”
“Padmé?” The shock of it stole his breath, then the implication sank in. “How so? She was blameless—”
Holding up a hand to still the heated protest, Obi-Wan explained, “Once the children were safe, she exiled herself there rather than constantly see you as Vader. Believe me, there were attempts to persuade her to change her mind, but she was too distraught to listen. She blamed herself for the unwitting part she’d played in your downfall. She’s still there and has no idea about your imminent arrival. I thought you should know.”
o~o~o
He woke to soft rain soaking the sheet-shroud draped over his body. One again he smelled earth and living matter. Lifting his hand, Anakin pulled the cloth away from his face and sat up.
He found himself at a crossroads converging two primitive dirt paths. Walls of towering forest pressed in on all sides. The bag Obi-Wan had given him was clutched tightly in his left hand. He lifted it, testing its weight. “So I wasn’t dreaming.”
“You’re dead,” replied a harsh voice. He jerked his head up and focussed on where the voice had come from. There, a few feet away, squatted an old crone with tufts of white hair framing a face the colour of ancient parchment. “And before you ask—you can’t go back. Get used to it.”
That he hadn’t sensed her immediately bothered him. He frowned. “I knew that.”
“So, why ask if you’re dreaming then?”
“I didn’t ask if I was dreaming. I said I wasn’t dreaming.”
“So did I.”
Dismissing her before his temper went orbital, Anakin inspected his arms and legs, running his hands over his face and hair, checking that what he’d seen in his vision was in actual fact true. It seemed so and it still baffled him.
The crone cackled at seeing him inspect himself. “What’s the matter, got blasted to pieces did you?” With surprising nimbleness, she got to her feet and ambled creakily over. “Well, and so what if you did? You can hardly come through to this side in little itty bits can you? What good would that do anyone, eh?”
“I suppose.” Frowning, Anakin tried to marshal his thoughts and adjust. What had Obi-Wan said was the woman’s name? Tenku or something? He hadn’t paid enough attention to be sure. It seemed more efficient to ask than get it wrong. “What’s your name old woman?”
“Ha, listen to you.” She gave a derisive snort.” Maybe I don’t want to give you my name, oh demanding one.”
He’d become too used to instant, fearful obedience, Anakin realised when his first instinct was to punish her defiance. While they glared at each other, he worked on loosening the muscles that had tightened with rage. He was no longer Darth Vader, but knowing it and feeling it would take some time to mesh.
Instead of fear, he saw amusement slide in bird-like black eyes as she shuffled closer and canted her head. “You look like you’re thinking of snapping my scrawny neck, young one. Are you?”
Despite the lingering dark rage, Anakin’s lips twitched, “Maybe.”
She gave another, longer cackle and eyes buried deep in a wrinkle-folded face gleamed. “I could tell you I’m not worth the trouble, but you don’t know me well enough to know if that’s true. My name is Tenku.” She tossed a bundle of rags at him. “Here’s your clothing. Get dressed and I’ll take you to where you need to go. Hurry, it’s going to be dark soon.”
o~o~o
It was a jungle planet and the rainforest seemed to go on for hours. Ground cover was sparse as the towering trees almost totally blocked out the sun. Tenku had told him there were large settlements dotted all over the place. The nearest one was called Junga Roth and it was within a half hour walk. Anakin trudged along behind the old woman in his borrowed brown pants, scuffed brown boots and oatmeal-coloured tunic. The leather utility belt Obi-Wan had put in the bag along with the lightsaber was already coming in handy.
Under the canopy of dense tree foliage, the heat and humidity was thick and cloying, but his mind wasn’t on his surroundings.
It felt odd to be in Obi-Wan’s debt. Too much had passed between them for it all to be swept away so easily. Still, Anakin reasoned, he was grateful for a lot of things, and he had to admit that his old mentor had trained his son well. Luke had told him to let go of his hate and he had done, but the rancour had left deep scars that had to be smoothed out before he was free of it completely.
Irrational it may have been, but the emperor’s new apprentice had blamed his old master for all of it; Padmé turning from him, Vader’s own anger that had led to Padmé’s death, and finally his imprisonment in a cybernetic shell. He’d fed that anger with despair and nourished it into a cold, hard, vengeful hate that had served him well as a Sith lord. Now it was gone, but two decades was far too long to stretch back to a former friendship and heal it instantly. Even if a part of him yearned for it.
It didn’t matter. He had another former relationship to worry about.
Padmé. He had thought her gone forever. How could he face her?
Despite the heat, cold sweat dripped down his back at the thought. Fate had chosen to return him to the way he’d looked when he’d broken her with his anger, would she look the same too? Did it matter? No, it didn’t, he decided and he was afraid to face her. The same span of years bridged this love as for that of Obi-Wan, but it was vastly different. Vader had brooded over his old master’s perceived betrayal, twisting it over the years. Padmé had been locked away, fresh and untouched, until now. Twenty days may as was well have passed instead of twenty years. Would the first part of his atonement be to see the wife he’d loved too much look on him with abhorrence? He wouldn’t blame her if she did, but he didn’t think he could bear it.
A finger jab to the middle of his right arm jerked him out of his anguished thoughts. The odd pair halted and Tenku planted her hands on her hips. “You won’t last long here if you don’t pay attention, boy. It’d be a pity to see that pretty face ripped off by a Narzgh just before they dragged you off to join them in the pit.”
The admonishment was just—and the distraction welcome—so Anakin merely scowled at Tenku and started walking again, asking, “What is a Narzgh?”
She was forced to trot beside him to keep up with his longer strides. “A demon that was once like us, or whatever species it was originally,” she told him, chillingly matter-of-fact. “They come from the lowest world and hate any who live above. Unfortunately for us, this hatred is virulent and strong. Through it they have found numerous ways of splintering the veils between us to raid our homes and snatch us away.”
The hairs on Anakin’s arms rose at the mention of beings who used hate to make themselves powerful; just like a Sith. “What kind of weapons do they use?”
She shrugged a bony shoulder that started a sea-change in the rags she’d draped herself in. “Whatever comes to hand, the same as us.” He knew she hadn’t finished answering when she slid him a sly sidelong glance. “Except for the ones that carry those.” She pointed to his lightsaber. “They’re the worst and even the other Narzgh fall prey to them if they get in the way.”
That information had him slowing to a crawl again. The lightsaber wearing Narzgh could only be dead dark Jedi or Sith, Anakin thought numbly. He’d almost been one of them. He still could be.
Ice settled in the pit of his stomach and radiated out with cold fingers. “Why do they want to take you? What’s the point?”
“There is no point.” The look she gave him suggested he was either slow or stupid for thinking there should be. “They are obscene and unnatural, driven mad in the pit and wishing to share that torture with us. Share and share alike. Pain begets pain. Yadda Yadda Yadda. It is also said that they are always ravenous and their appetites are not just about food.”
“That’s…horrible. Thanks for sharing that with me.” Anakin shuddered, disgusted and appalled.
She shrugged again. “You asked, I answered.”
Unwilling to pursue the topic, he changed it, “Are there any other…lightsaber wielders among your own people?”
“Not in Junga Roth, but I can’t say about the other cities. There are a lot of dead people here and we don’t all socialise. I wouldn’t do too much of that yourself or you’re liable to get your fingernails stolen just for the fun of it. Thievery is a common past-time here and so is fighting and lots of other nastiness.” Tenku grinned, revealing several gaps in her teeth. “We’re not exactly a big happy family, or we’d be in the first world.”
Anakin bared his teeth in a reciprocal grin entirely lacking in warmth. “I appreciate the warning, but I assure you I don’t need it.”
Seeing his cold grin, her own faded and the expression on her face was, for once, not mocking, but considering. Saying nothing more, they continued making their way through the gloomy wall of heat.
o~o~o
The rainforest gradually started to thin, allowing a dense tangle of vines, shrubs and smaller trees to grow. Pushing his way through behind Tenku, Anakin was reminded of the jungle Moon of Yavin 4 and his duel with Asajj Ventress, a dark Jedi with ambitions of becoming a Sith. The fact that he’d later fallen in the same way made the association distinctly unpleasant. The first sight of habitation came as a welcome distraction, and another big surprise.
Standing at the top of a steep downward incline, he stared down into a valley. He’d been expecting a rough-and-ready settlement several steps down in civilisation from what he’d known on the desert moon of Tatooine. What he saw was a large, fortified city spreading out far and wide and complete with airspeeders and transport ships buzzing around like bugs. Under a bright sun, the city shimmered, surrounded by the dark, ever-widening ring of dense, green jungle.
“You weren’t wrong about the dead being numerous,” he told Tenku.
“People have been dying since the dawn of time. What do you expect, eh?”
As he looked down on the city, Padmé once again intruded on his thoughts. Was she down there? Could he find her? Did he want to find her? Anakin didn’t need to search his feelings. Fear and longing swamped him.
TBC
NOTE (2): Ack! This is my first long A/P SW fic and only second SW fic altogether. I’ve read lots of great stories here over the last few days so I hope this doesn’t lower the tone. You will have probably noticed that while Padmé is referenced a fair bit in this chapter, she isn’t physically present. I promise that will change.
One thing I have noticed about this forum is the call-out for a pm list for multi-chapter stories. Please feel free to ask the same and I’ll take it as a huge compliment. Critiques are also welcome, but I prefer to get them by pm so I can respond without cluttering up the thread.
Last, but not least, I don’t have a beta for this fandom so if anyone is feeling generous (and is seriously skilled at killing pesky commas and stray semi-colons), then please let me know.
Thanks for reading!
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searth_99
Registered:
Oct '01
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Date Posted:
3/22 2:14pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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I just saw this and wow is this good! Please continue and post more soon or whenever you can!! I'll put up a review a little bit later.. :P
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Teresa
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Mar '07
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Date Posted:
3/22 4:00pm
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RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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An excellent beginning! I look forward to the next chapters with interest! My thanks to you! 
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ROTSFan
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
3/23 12:26am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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Hey! This is great and a really interesting take on the afterlife premise. You have some new ideas here and can hardly wait to see how you play it out. 
Palpatine would have sensed it and some small part of Vader had not wanted to hear her name on his master’s lips.
True, true. Her name was far too precious and revered to any part of Vaderkin to hear it come off Palpatine's lips. He didn't deserve to say it.
Please add me to the PM list and if you need a beta feel free to PM me or send me your email!
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Reincarnation: (post ROTS V/A/P AU) Vader encounters a cloned Padme. http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=21382105&replies=7 Nominated--Best Collaborative Work FanFic Awards 2007  Fics in profile; ask me to unlock
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BattousaiCV
Registered:
May '07
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Date Posted:
3/23 1:05am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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I like your take on the world(s) of the dead. Looking forward to more!
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
3/23 6:09am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
- Date Edited:
3/23 6:23am (2 edits total)
Edited By:
Helen_Taft
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Thanks for the FB. I don't know what happened here. I went to edit and re-posted--don't ask, I haven't got a clue how I managed to make such a dumb mistake!!! Sorry. Is there a delete button? Ack!
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KELIA
Title: Host: 20 Ques
Bet Your Knowledge
PT Rewrite
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
3/24 3:51am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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Very nice beginning.
I love situations that give Anakin a chance to redeem himself so I know I'm going to love this one.
Please add me to the PM list.
I saw you achieve the impossible in this infernal Death Star. I have faith in you
It's about time!! I'm just glad Obi-Wan was there to give Anakin the boost he needed.
Looking forward to more
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HandmaidenVeme
Registered:
Jun '04
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Date Posted:
3/24 6:08am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
- Date Edited:
3/24 8:16pm (1 edits total)
Edited By:
HandmaidenVeme
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Looking forward to more of this fic!
Please add me to your PM list!!!
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Angel #1 the "Mischievous" one
"Anakin's Angels" *cue theme music*
"Anakin Skywalker's Towel Girl"
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VaderLVR64
Title: Fan Fic Manager Buried Under Boxes
Registered:
Feb '04
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Date Posted:
3/24 9:58am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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Wow! A great beginning! Please put me on your PM list so I don't miss a chapter of this lovely tale.
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If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories.
They call me NANA Vader.
At least she doesn't lack confidence...
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Anakin_Panda
Registered:
Nov '06
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Date Posted:
3/24 8:05pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padme-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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0___0 Awesome! PM list please! I can't wait to see what's in store for Anakin...
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
4/3 1:32pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Pro + Ch 1
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FB RESPONSES
searth_99 Thank you for breaking the ice and posting first. You made my day and I’m tickled you enjoyed the prologue and first chapter.
Teresa Thanks muchly for the kind comments. I hope the rest of the story grabs you in the same way.
ROTSfan Yay! Someone asked to me on the pm list. Thanks for the thumbs up and for the offer of beta. I did actually get a pm off someone first though and had already bitten her hand off *g*
BattousaiCV I’m totally chuffed you enjoyed it. I hope it stays that way. Thanks so much for the reply.
KELIA Yay! Another for the pm list  I love the idea of a redeemed Anakin too, only not so much the one where he’s just Casper—which is how this fic came into my head, lol. I really hope the story continues to intrigue and satisfy.
HandmaidenVeme Pm list has got your name on it*g*. Thanks so much for asking and commenting to say you’re looking forward to more.
VaderLVR64 Y’know you’d think I’d have brought a clue from your forum name that I’d spelled a certain important person's name wrong. D’oh! LOL Thanks for the lovely reply and for asking to be on the pm list.
Anakin_Panda Aww! Thanks, hun. I had a big grin on my face when I read how much you’d enjoyed the first post. I hope I continues. Pm list is definite.
PM List
ROTSfan
KELIA
HandmaidenVeme
VaderLVR64
Anakin_Panda
If you want adding, please feel free to ask. 
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
4/3 1:37pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Ch 2 Updated 4/3
- Date Edited:
5/1 5:46am (5 edits total)
Edited By:
Helen_Taft
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NOTES
(1) Huge thanks to my betas YellowDart and NikeJ for all of their excellent help—much appreciated.
(2)I have to give a big shout-out to Wookiepedia for the excellent source of facts about the Star Wars verse. I’ve used it lots, so it deserves a mention.
(3)Also, I’ve drafted in an old friend from another fandom to act as an extra in the next chapter (three)—you’ll probably know who I mean when you come across him—there is no infringement intended, it’s just fanfic etc etc *g*. Chapter three should be on your screens this weekend. It’s written and YellowDart is doing her magic on it.
CHAPTER TWO
“He’s gone too far this time.”
Padmé Amidala strode down the grand corridor of Roth’s palatial palace. Wall friezes of spirits moving joyously up to the first world lined both sides. Behind them, the premier’s officials were exiting the audience chamber and splitting off to resume their duties. Surrounded by the usual bowing sycophants, Lyonides himself was getting ready to board his shuttle, embarking on yet another ‘trade’ negotiation with the Geonosians of Lona Naxivio for more droids.
She was furious and her thoughts were an angry whirl. Things here were the same as on the other side—the social elite were pampered and protected while the common people suffered and were left defenceless. It was indefensible, barbaric. All in a good days work for him, she thought savagely. Tyrant.
With every step, her fists became as tightly clenched as her jaw. She cast one of her escorts a hard, glittering look. “This totalitarian state has to end, Saber. You know that as well as I do. There is no discussion. No debate. Only his rule.”
Short, balding and nervous, Saber Throm glanced nervously around, hissing, “Councillor Amidala, please!. You must start practicing discretion.”
“I tried that before and it doesn’t work,” she dismissed, softening it with a smile. “Lyonides knows how I feel anyway—”
“Of course he does. Because you never try to hide it.” Throm had to mop the sweat from his brow and his hand shook. “He’s indulged you on many occasions…”
Padmé halted so abruptly that her voluminous skirts bristled. Now it was her turn to interrupt. “Indulged me! All I’ve done is petition him for the barest levels of comfort for the ordinary people—for the newcomers. The dead come here mourning for the living just as much as the living do for the dead. The world as they know it—their very lives have ended. They’re lost and terrified. They need our support.” She flung out her hands, furious. “And all Lyonides cares about is automating everything and amassing an army.” Agitated, she started walking again. “No matter what pontificating he does in public speeches, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s trading souls for a set of blasters on legs.”
“Personally, I think he’s baiting you,” chimed in Councillor Oboné. She was a big-boned, ebony-skinned woman with a deep, resonant voice. “He can’t really mean to trade all of our surplus minerals for those ghastly battle droids—there would be even more riots.”
“Politically, it’s a tricky issue,” agreed Throm. “The people know we need better defences and Lyonides has a fair few convinced that droids would be more effective than troops in fighting off Narzgh raids. Then there’s the golden promise of increased output from the mines allowing him to finally purchase the extra energy cells we need to extend the barrier.”
“False promises, all of it,” said Padmé. “We know too well that blasters have a limited effect, and he could have bought the cells already if he was really planning to. In the meantime people in the outer rim are little more than bait—and they know it. It’s why they riot.”
“To some, the cost of losing a percentage of the population to achieve greater security is acceptable,” pointed out Oboné.
Knowing it was true, Padmé grimaced. “So long as it is not they who are living beyond the rain shield, of course.”
“Of course.” Oboné smiled.
Four tiny housekeeping droids zoomed up and passed their feet, chittering and squawking. It broke the tight tableau.
“Come,” said Throm, his bald pate shining anew. “Let us not linger. Lyonides’ spies are everywhere, particularly in the palace.”
They turned left, heading for the Thousand Year steps with their monolithic stone statue of a female figure raising her arms to break the chains that bound her. Another useless platitude. “You are thinking he means to discredit me with the people for opposing the plan?” Padmé prompted Oboné. The thought had occurred to her, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t hear other opinions on the matter.
“Many will take his insinuations more seriously if they feel that you are not taking their dearest concerns to heart.” Oboné’s huge shoulders, swathed in white robes shrugged. “It is hardly surprising that Lyonides wants your reputation tarnished when you are a thorn in his side in the same way you were with his father.”
Concern written all over his face, Throm took it further in reminding her, “He tried to have you assassinated. That tells me he’s serious in his intentions of ridding himself of you.”
“We don’t know that it was Lyonides.” Smiling and patting his arm, Padmé shook her head. “And I’ve been targeted by assassins before. He’s adept at putting on a façade, but I’ve learned how to see past that. He’s not giving off any signals that concern me, other than his usual selfish posturing and lies, that is.”
“We don’t know that it wasn’t him for certain,” argued Throm, sombre, afraid but loyal. “He has huge sway with the more prominent citizens, thanks to his promises of a single ideology and cracking down the on the darker elements of the outer rim. He has many friends and advocates and is unparalleled at keeping his own counsel. He certainly did when he assisted his father to an early second demise. I tell you, if it wasn’t for your fearsome Wookiee friend here, I wouldn’t sleep at night.”
There was a roar of approval from behind Padmé’s right shoulder as they stepped out from the shade of the palace into sunshine. Soft, warm, golden light bathed the extensive, ornamental palace gardens ahead of them. Twelve storeys below was the commerce and finance district. Here and there spirals of black smoke still rose; stark evidence of the recent, desperate demonstrations that had ended in bloody riots only hours before. Twelve dead and hundreds more wounded. The nearest medical centres were on full alert, and so were the enforcement teams. The blast shields ringing the inner core of the city were down, preventing passage from the beleaguered outer rim—containing the fear and suffering in the very place that engendered it.
She wanted to do so much more, but had to content herself with taking the fight to the top.
Turning her head, she forced a smile at the towering Wookiee who’d adopted her—or rather they’d adopted each other, “Thank you, Freyrr.” Turning back to Throm and Oboné her smile faded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve learned to take care of myself.” Her gaze switched to the far-distant forest spreading out beyond the decrepit outermost edges of the city, vast and primal. “Worry about what is going to happen now that the rainy season is approaching and half the city is once again left unprotected.”
Wincing, Councillor Oboné laid a hand on Padmé’s shoulder. “We have another appointment with the Premier the day after tomorrow; maybe he will have more time to listen then.”
“He’d better. If possible, he’s worse than his father. I can’t decide if he’s merely utterly corrupt and self-seeking or genuinely evil,” rejoined Padmé, equally grim. She had a bad feeling about the future and, no matter what she tried, she couldn’t shake it. The suspicion hovered at the edge of her mind that something awful was about to happen, but when she turned her thoughts to meet it head on, it darted out of sight like a spectre.
Please let me be wrong about this, she thought. Please. I’ve seen enough torment and hopelessness, felt it. I can’t stand any more. It has to end.
o~o~o
Junga Roth wasn’t all that different from other cities Anakin had been to in his life, but it was certainly no Coruscant. Jutting up into the sky were the usual cloud-scraping towers and spires that made the ground level superfluous to all but the street vermin. In her usual blunt style, Tenku had given him the low-down as they approached. The city was laid out in circular districts, with the privileged living atop commercial and city administration centres, conveniently close to core services and occupying the heavily protected centre. Everything else ringed it. The remaining half a million inhabitants were spread in circles of ever decreasing wealth with the poorest and least ‘productive’ citizens living nearest the edges. Newcomers occupied the outer rim—fresh fodder for the Narzgh. If you lived long enough to save some money and bribe your way into a ‘core’ occupation, then you could move deeper into the city.
They entered through a thick, studded metal gate built into the perimeter wall of the city. The wall itself was several standard feet thick and supported by thick buttresses. It was pandemonium on the other side. Pedestrian and speeder traffic was thick, choking the converging street from all angles. The noise was incredible, and the atmosphere rank with dull panic as the sun began to drop. Worker droids similar to the PK’s Anakin had seen on the other side were scurrying around spreading what looked like sand. Nobody paid them any attention, including the band of armoured guards preparing to shut the massive gates. Directly on the left was a long, squat, bland and windowless building that he was told served as both processing centre and temporary shelter for the newly dead. Tenku left him there and disappeared back into the crowds thronging the streets.
The first, fat drops of rain splattered the gritty street as Anakin walked inside. His footsteps echoed on the bare stone floor of the long, artificially lit anteroom. At the end a blue humanoid-shaped droid holding a datalink barred a door. As he approached it the droid looked him up and down. Anakin was certain that if it could scowl, it would have done so.
“What are you doing in here? You’re not allowed to use this entrance. This is for the registration of new citizens only.”
Great, a snotty droid with delusions of authority, he thought, stopping in front of it. “I am new. I’ve just come in from the outside. I was told I had to come here.”
“But…” it looked him up and down again, confused, “…you’re wearing clothes.”
“A habit of mine,” he replied, dryly.
He obviously wasn’t impressing it. “Did you steal them?” the droid asked, its electronic voice sounding scandalised, “Stealing is a crime punishable by overnight banishment, you know?”
“I didn’t steal them. I was given them.” Deliberately, Anakin took a step closer, his expression cold, lightsaber hidden under the tunic he’d pulled over it. “Why don’t you just tell me where I’m supposed to go and save us both more unnecessary aggravation?”
Getting the message, the droid hurriedly gestured to the doors behind it. “Through there. Join a queue.”
“Thank you.”
The twin doors slid back automatically at his approach. Anakin did a double-take at what he saw on the other side. Ten dozen processing consoles manned by more droids were ranged on the far left of a cavernous, soulless hall. Snaking out from them were long queues of naked, shivering sentients—mostly human. There were thousands of them, ranging in age from late teens to centennials. Under the harsh glare of phosphorescent panels built into the low ceiling many were weeping and close to hysterical, others stood glassy-eyed and vacant. They appeared so cowering, weak and helpless that Anakin wondered for a moment how humanity had managed to attain such a powerful hold over the galaxy. Stripped to the skin, they were nothing. It embarrassed him to be the same species.
The savagely derisive thought, and accompanying feeling of arrogant superiority, chilled him to the bone; proof that the Sith he’d been still lived. He felt a quick, vicious twist of guilt and self-abhorrence in his gut. Where was compassion now? This may well be a grotesque production line of flawed beings, but you’re the most flawed of all, he told himself grimly. With more patience than he would have had without the guilt, he joined the nearest line, smiled at the starkly terrified man in front of him, and waited to reach the front.
When it was his turn, the droid didn’t even look up. “Name?”
He’d expected the question and considered lying. He didn’t, because he could foresee a time when such a lie would be exposed. “Anakin Skywalker.”
Pointing to the square, black screen tilted towards Anakin, the droid instructed, “Place your hand firmly on the palm reader, please. Press hard and keep it there while the scanning takes place.”
He did as he was told, spreading his fingers to match the etched diagram on the reader. A green light flashed across the dull black plasto under his palm. His prints would now be on record, he thought. Would Padmé find out about his arrival through this one act? Would she hide? Seek him out, or expose him as the murderer of thousands?
The droid interrupted his bleak musings. “Very good. Date of birth and home planet prior to death.”
“41.9 BBY. Home planet Coruscant.”
“Age is 45 then.” The droid finally looked up, and paused. “You appear young for your age, human Skywalker. I should warn you that it is in direct violation of city code to lie during processing.”
He definitely didn’t like these droids. Anakin enjoyed the fantasy of using one good force shove to send this pile of metal and chips into the wall behind it, turning it into scrap. “In that case it’s a good thing that I’m not lying, isn’t it? Consider me well-preserved,” he said.
The blue head tilted, silently considering him further, “You’re also wearing clothes.”
Impatience simmered hotter, he banked it, containing it. “A point on which I’ve already explained myself to your friend at the door. I met someone on the way here, and she gave me the clothes. I thanked her and we parted. It’s as simple as that.”
It was also more or less the truth.
A few more beats passed before the droid finally dropped its electronic gaze, saying, “You are more fortunate than most.”
“I’m getting that picture.” Others were being herded past him clutching stained, musk-smelling rags that made his own thin, scratchy clothing look like shimmer-silk in comparison.
“Regardless of your luck, I am programmed to give you your allotted covering.” Grimacing, Anakin had no choice but to take the meagre pile, consisting of grey tunic and pants. The droid wasn’t finished. “Your number is 3ABYC265675901. Do not forget it, or you will not be able to claim the rest of the benefits allocated to new arrivals. Temporary accommodation is available for a maximum of ten standard days. Do you require accommodation?”
After confirming that he did, Anakin was directed to a bank of elevators through another set of grey sliding doors. As he walked towards them, he heard a recorded message played over the intercoms. The voice was huskily female and designed to be soothing; it might have worked if it wasn’t looped to run continuously. ‘Welcome to Junga Roth. Newcomers are advised that ALL reflective surfaces are prohibited. Water is to be kept in opaque containers only. Remember, spills must be dealt with INSTANTLY and reported to the nearest housekeeping droid. Quator sand is kept in easy-to-use automatic chutes on every floor of the accommodation block. Welcome to Junga Roth. Newcomers are advised…’
He wondered about a city paranoid about water being set right in the middle of a rainforest.
o~o~o
Pilas Lyonides didn’t own the title of king. He didn’t need to. At less than 1.7 metres tall and a stingy one-hundred and thirty pounds, he was a small, trim man with a neat head of greying black hair. He wore rich, finely decorated tunics and fine-tooled leather boots that belied his beginnings on the smuggling haven that was the planet Socorro on the outer rim of the galaxy. He’d died only moments after his father, Petris Lyonides, and followed him to the second world. Ruthless by nature, cunning by necessity, and with a survival instinct that rivalled any in the galaxy, the Lyonides family had scrabbled their way to the top and stayed there for over a century. He’d seen this city burn, its people ravaged to the last thousand, and was more than resigned to the fact that it would likely happen again. Personally, he had no intention of dying again because he knew he’d be going straight down.
Not today. Not ever.
Now, he stood surrounded by those equally greedy for power, and they feared him. Except for one irritation. He turned to her now. “I lived for forty four years; and I’ve been dead for one hundred and fifty more. I think I’ve got a few years on you, Councillor. I know what my people need. So why do you persist in preaching at me?”
In anyone else, the last soft-voiced question would have raised a bone-deep chill. Ministers and aides seated in the five-tiered, encircling benches exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably as yet another confrontation arose between their volatile leader and Amidala. With his hands behind his back, Lyonides kept pacing, prowling around the outer edges of the floor. He rarely, if ever, sat down, even to eat.
Padmé kept her countenance calm. “I’ll save my preaching and get to the point then. We don’t need more droids. We need more energy cells so that the barrier can be extended to cover the whole city. It is the only, and the best, way to protect all of our people.”
It was a risky move. Lyonides hated to be challenged directly, considering it an attack and reacting accordingly. If there were murmurs of agreement from any of the other sixty people present, they were too scared to make them audible. The atmosphere tightened, and the entire chamber held its collective breath.
The explosion didn’t come.
Rather than answer her himself, Lyonides glared expressively at his security minister, prompting the man to respond. Guil Natar got to his feet. “And what good will extending the barrier really do, Councillor Amidala? We can hardly cover the entire forest and they would only attack our outer perimeters harder, and push deeper if they….” He petered off, leaving the rest of his statement hanging.
“If they don’t get easy pickings from the outer rim of the city,” Padmé finished for him, her expression twisted with distaste. She kept her seat, but could not hold her tongue, “You truly disgust me, Nater.”
Standing between them with his booted feet spread on grey-veined marble, Lyonides snorted, cold blue eyes alive with amusement at the seething anger arcing between his lackey and his nemesis. “He’s head of security for the city. Tough decisions have to be made.” He inclined his head mockingly at Padmé, pointing out, “You’re supposed to despise him or he isn’t doing his job?”
“In that case he’s doing an excellent job—in that if nothing else.”
“I agree with Councillor Amidala,” announced Oboné, shifting forward to enter the debate.
This time the audience chamber came alive with mutterings. Lyonides overrode it all with a hard smile. “I’d be more surprised if you didn’t—the same for you Throm, you spineless fool. Well, you can all hold your tongues. I’ve already sent the shipment to the Geonosians on a container ship.” He glanced questioningly at a gangling, grey-skinned Muun swathed in the traditional black shawl of his people. “In fact, I’m expecting the ship to be back…when exactly?”
“In less than one half of a standard hour, my lord,” said Bac Gon, amending it to add, “If all goes well, of course. The Geonosians are hardly trustworthy.”
o~o~o
(Ten standard hours earlier)
“Have you ever flown a Lemidian before?”
The voice was deep and gravelly suiting the owner’s short, barrel-chested frame. Acting as co-pilot, Anakin glanced over at him. “It’s not that different from the early Corellian YG freighters. I’ll manage.”
The pilot, Sal Trent, didn’t look reassured. Almost black eyes squinted suspiciously in a severely pock-marked face. “We’ll be picking up a lot of expensive cargo at Lona, and I don’t plan on doing all the flying, so I hope you’ll do better than manage, kid.”
That earned Sal a longer, icier look. “I’m not a kid.”
“Whatever. So long as we deliver our cargo and pick-up Lyonides’ droids without a hitch. I don’t give a crap.” Adding under his breath as he flipped switches, checked readouts and got the ships’ engines running, “Forty five my ass.”
Anakin let it go. He was learning to let a lot of things go. Some things were easier than others. Lack of sleep didn’t help. His sleeping hours were plagued by nightmares—a mish-mash of memories that burned right through to his soul. As Vader he’d learned not to dwell, to forget the past and live purely in the present, rarely feeling guilt or remorse, instead concentrating solely on an objective. Now he had no discernible objective, so he had no choice but to dwell. It was as if Vader’s mask had kept it all at bay, and with it gone, he was helpless to prevent the overdue tide. The solace of meditation was also being frustratingly elusive. The forest on the other side of the perimeter wall bothered him. It was primordial, and the sheer mass of living matter condensed the Force incredibly, battering his mind with its power as he tried to meditate. His concentration kept fracturing.
He blamed it on having a fully organic body again after spending so long as only half a man. He’d had no idea how much of his power he’d lost on Mustafar; until now when it coursed remorselessly through him. It was a blast of noise instead of a controlled whisper—disorientingly powerful.
Then there was Padmé.
She was in the city; he could feel her. The certainty of it was a tremor in his heart.
“Did you say something?”
Jerked out of his thoughts, Anakin frowned. “What?”
“I asked you if you said something. I thought you did.”
Had he said something? “I didn’t say anything,” he denied flatly. “You’re imagining things.”
Those black eyes seemed to bore right into his head. Keen intelligence and a bad attitude made for a strange combination in this man. “Whatever you say, kid. By the way, we’re almost there.” A mirthless smile curved Sal’s lips. “It’s nice to have some company for a change. You can’t get better than stimulating conversation to pass the time, huh?”
Anakin ignored the insult. “We’re there…already?”
“Well, I guess you weren’t bored. I’ll have to learn to zone out like that.” Sal gestured at the ship-wide cockpit viewport. “Look your fill; Lona Noxivio in all its repellently noxious, bug-like glory.”
Below them, the crater of a volcano grew wider and deeper. The hives inside it were already visible. “I hope that thing’s still active,” said Anakin, earning a chuckle from the other pilot.
“You and me both; only not while we’re in there. Come on. Let’s get this ‘trade mission’ over and done with.”
The Limidian lowered into the crater and then aimed for a deep fissure in the volcanic rock. The fissure turned out to be a hidden docking hanger. Landing and turning off the sub-light engines, Sal released the hatch, and together they walked out of the cockpit, through the ship and down the lowered ramp. Without the benefit of the freighter’s air conditioning, the stench of sulphur was eye-wateringly strong. Stepping off the ramp onto smooth, hewn rock, Anakin saw, with no surprise, that the set-up was strongly reminiscent of the Geonosian home planet. The hanger went deep into the rock with numerous tunnels leading off. Wingless warriors carrying pike staffs and sonic blasters patrolled the tunnels and the hanger bay. Several of the worker caste were working on the ships already docked inside. It occurred to Anakin to wonder if Poggle the Lesser was here—the Archduke and separatist leader whom he’d executed on Palpatine’s order.
Wouldn’t that be interesting?
“Pay attention and no sight-seeing,” instructed Sal, low-voiced. “We’ve got a job to do; and I want it done fast so that we can get out of here.”
Anakin had no inclination to argue. “I’m all for that.”
They headed for the nearby stack of sealed metal containers. Anakin estimated there were about a hundred, and each was twice his height. In front of them stood a Geonosian delegation and a protocol droid painted a dull, rusty red. As Sal and Anakin approached, the Geonosian in front started making the usual unintelligible clicking noises that constituted their language.
The droid translated and likely ad-libbed to make the greeting pleasant, “Good morning, pilots of Junga Roth. We hope that you had a swift and uneventful journey?”
“It was fine,” said Sal, faking a smile and making his scarred face twice as unattractive. He nodded at the containers. “I’ve got your mineral, are those my droids?”
The protocol droid seemed shocked by his shortness, then resigned, “Oh…well, yes, certainly.”
“Good. Let’s swap.” His meagre store of civility already depleted, Sal turned on his heel and went back to the Limidian. There was a recessed control panel built next to the exterior cargo hatch. Pulling a lever, the hatch opened and another ramp lowered, smaller, but more robust—perfect for loader droids on durasteel rollers.
Less than one standard hour later, the unloading was complete and the loading very nearly so. Everything seemed to be going well. Standing watch, Anakin couldn’t shake a nagging feeling of looming danger. The awareness of it quivered up his spine to sit uneasily on his brain. Irritation bloomed when he couldn’t pin it down no matter how deeply he searched for the source.
The protocol droid came over with an offer of refreshment before take off. Curtly declining, he waved it away. He watched it walk stiffly back to the Geonosians and pass on his refusal. They didn’t seem perturbed.
Something was definitely off.
Finally, the last container was being loaded onto the Limidian. Sal followed it in to make sure everything was secure. At the same moment another container came trundling out onto the hanger bay floor directly opposite their ship. The prickles of alarm escalated, raising the hair on the back of Anakin’s neck. Standing between the container and the Limidian and using the Force, he zeroed in, scanning it. Certainty followed. He knew he’d found the source of the danger.
It was a front-loading container about two meters in height. Raising his right hand, he gave a sharp twist in mid-air. Still twenty metres away from him, the slide front of the container ripped up so fast the metal gave a protesting screech, startling everyone.
Inside stood half a dozen armoured humanoids bearing heavy blaster carbines.
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ROTSFan
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
4/3 7:13pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) CHP 2 UPDATED 4/3
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Glad that Anakin could use his Force sense to pinpoint the danger. This is quite an interesting story you have here, almost like a little "Left Behind" type scenario--there is still hope in this "life", but they have to work twice as hard for it and earn their redemption.
“Indulged me! All I’ve done is petition him for the barest levels of comfort for the ordinary people—for the newcomers. The dead come here mourning for the living just as much as the living do for the dead. The world as they know it—their very lives have ended. They’re lost and terrified. They need our support.”
How fitting that Amidala would be helping and looking after people no matter where she is.
He blamed it on having a fully organic body again after spending so long as only half a man. He’d had no idea how much of his power he’d lost on Mustafar; until now when it coursed remorselessly through him. It was a blast of noise instead of a controlled whisper—disorientingly powerful.
Well put. Look forward to reading more.
-----signature-----
Reincarnation: (post ROTS V/A/P AU) Vader encounters a cloned Padme. http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=21382105&replies=7 Nominated--Best Collaborative Work FanFic Awards 2007 Fics in profile; ask me to unlock
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nabooqueen2008
Registered:
Jan '08
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Date Posted:
4/3 7:49pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) CHP 2 UPDATED 4/3
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Hmmm...this is an interesting story with intriguing twists. Please put me on the pm list. I'd like to find out what happens next!!!!!
~Nabooqueen~
BTW....great idea
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slow_dawn
Registered:
Apr '06
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Date Posted:
4/3 8:31pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) CHP 2 UPDATED 4/3
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You've got quite an interesting story here. I'd love to here more--could you put me on the PM list, please?
-----signature-----
O, Life! That persistent struggle which rises slowly with with the warmth of dawn but fades quickly in the twilight of dusk! The Tragedy of Anakin Skywalker??? The Vig Challenge Board - http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_resource/b10304/28176650/p1
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Teresa
Registered:
Mar '07
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Date Posted:
4/3 8:38pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) CHP 2 UPDATED 4/3
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