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Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 19 *11/12
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Sen_Padme_Amidala
Registered:
Apr '07
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Date Posted:
8/12 4:30pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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First of all thank you for the PM, now on to the review.
“How did he end up in the black armour? I mean—is it just me who can’t see that ensemble as a fashion statement?”
 That has got to be my favorite line.
This was a very intresting chapter. Like Rev, I liked that you had Padme tell the others about Anakin's fall and her involvement in it and, that she told it from her point of view as well. I think in the end it will help her deal with her feelings of guilt and then she and Anakin can move on with their relationship. I also liked that it was not too long or too short. Padme did not go into a lot of detail, but still told them a big portion of what happened. Not an easy thing to condense, but you manage to do it perfectly.  I also agree with Rev that Lyonides' ignorance just might be his undoing.
I also know that scene from Jumper and if Anakin is in that amount of pain, then it is just not his day is it? 
I do agree with LadyZ in that I like the Falleen. For some reason I can't help but think that maybe they can be reasoned into joining the cause aginst Lyonides and ultimatly Sidious? 
I have a bad feeling about the dream/vision Anakin had about Padme and can only hope she will be OK and that her plan succeeds. 
Great job , and I can't wait for more!
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"I am capable of keeping my mouth shut, I just don't want to" - Siri Tachi
Duct tape is like the Force. It has a Dark side and a Light side, and it holds the universe together.
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nabooqueen2008
Registered:
Jan '08
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Date Posted:
8/12 8:47pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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I always love your posts. You are so precise and detailed! You were right, you can't just say that she told them her past and let it slide at that. Also, with the hint of Padme receiving more than subtle hints about not being able to return to the second world after dying in the first, I wonder if that will play out somehow. Maybe Padme or Anakin? and somehow the other saves the other one somehow? Just a thought. Anyway, you're doing such a phenomenal job. I always anticipate your posts with so much excitement and I can't wait till the next one!
~nabooqueen~
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ROTSFan
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
8/12 10:57pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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Wow. That was really great. You really write the pain and torture he is going through well, there was no difficulty in experiencing the blur of nausea and confusion Anakin must have been living in. That dream he's having has me kind of worried though.
Sal opted to remain standing, although he did swipe up one of the other cups. He downed it in one and then glared at the empty bottom.
A little on edge, is he? 
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 Fics in profile; ask me to unlock ~I did nothing. I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything I hoped it would be." - Office Space
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MoAngel
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
8/13 12:59am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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This was wonderful Helen and you can call me by name, all you want. I'd say everyone needs a Seabreeze right about now since that was always Lorne's drink of choice and the electric jolts? Yes Hayden was extremely HOT during those scenes from Jumper. On the same note, when I was leaving the theater February 14th, opening day for Jumper, my bf and I were stopped by a reporter from a San Francisco newspaper, asking us if we could choose, would we be a Jedi or a Jumper. I of course, chose Jedi! Can't wait for more...
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'Did you just Star Wars us'? Booth on Fox's Bones
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KELIA
Title: Fan Fiction Moderator
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
8/13 3:50am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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I’m begging you. Please, you have to help me, help him.
I loved Padme finally explaining everything.
I hope having the whole truth out will prove to be a good thing.
Having seen and read Jumper - poor Ani!
Great update
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
8/18 7:00am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Chapter 14 08/12*
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AUTHOR REPLIES AND NOTE
I go away for a week from tomorrow (I’m off to Northumberland with the family to frolic in Hogwarts from the first two movies—otherwise known as Alnwick Castle)—and, unfortunately haven’t got anywhere near enough of the next chapter finished. Sorry about that folks. 
FitJedi posted:
- Well everyone knows the past now, so hopefully they will forgive him. However, I don't have a very good feeling about the last part of the post.
Here’s hoping *g* and I know what you mean about the last part. Unfortunately, I can’t get into it at this time because it’s rather pivotal. 
randomangel22 posted:
- Well, the gang better hope that their plan works to bust Anakin out. I have to agree the part in Jumper when Hayden Christensen was in pain when he was being held captive was hot. Great post and thanks for the PM!
You’re very welcome for the PM! I really enjoyed Jumper and so did my hubbie and eldest son. I don’t know what it is about attractive men and suffering, lol. In my last fandom (Stargate Atlantis) they had a name for it…’whumping’. Don’t ask. It honestly never really appealed to me before.
ratna posted:
- I thought Padme telling Anakin's story was fine. Not too heavy on the exposition at all. And plenty of action and intensity in the rest of the post to balance it out. Is Jester Dex by any chance? Maybe not, if he doesn't recognise Ani. Purgatory for non-sentients as well ... interesting thought. One can only hope that at least some of the people will want to help Anakin. I know I do!
Thanks, ratna! Phew! That’s a relief.  Jester isn’t Dex, no, sorry hun. Dexter Jettster is the name you mean. I did sort of take a play on that name but only because in the Swverse the more obscure species tend to follow trends in names…plus Jester is his nickname rather than his real one. A cop-out on my behalf I know  *g*
Lisbev posted:
- Ah ... sweet Lorne and his irresistible quips. This was a great chapter showing Padme's determination to save Anakin. I especially like how she reflected on her weakness when she lost the will to live and left the twins. That was the thing that bugged me the most about ROTS. A strong person like Amidala really wouldn't die that way. This was definitely a bad cop out by GL.
I know exactly what you mean, Lisi. I remember reading an article about GL’s vision for A/P in ROTS and he was after a sort of Shakespearean tragedy (and the fact that he felt that having Anakin kill her would make him truly irredeemable) so this is why he had Padme die of a broken heart. Duh! What a load of tosh. There are so many different ways that he could have achieved the same aim without such a dumb excuse of a pathetic plot device.
Thanks for continuing to read and comment!
LadyZ posted:
- Ah, Lorne's drinks help save the day and fathfull Ceetee is there for support - I loved it! And I did like the Falleen commander- a new character - even if he's against our hero - but described with style, well-written features! I usually like trial scenes- so update soon
Thanks, LadyZ! I’m truly delighted that you enjoyed the chapter. I wish I had an update ready for you, but I will try harder when I get home so long as nothing else goes wrong this month. Argghh! 
HandmaidenVeme posted:
- “How did he end up in the black armour? I mean—is it just me who can’t see that ensemble as a fashion statement?” Lorne!!! You just gotta love him
Me me! I love and adore Lorne! 
Jedi_Master_Cazz posted:
- I think you did a good job of Padmé's explanation, it was necessary to have it there. Anakin sure seems the worse for wear because of those drugs, he's gonna have one hellofa headache later on, and I only hope Padmé's plan will work out, but it all depends on the trial... Cheers_Cazza
Yay! Thank you, I’m so glad that it didn’t drag for you. Thanks for the comments! 
JediMasterRev posted:
- Wonderful work, HT! Absolutely loved the imagery from the chapter. I thought you did an excellent job at getting all the relavent characters in the know and ready for the show down that is surely to come. It was an especially nice touch to have Padme relay the past to the others. I enjoyed reading her perspective on what happened.
It also seems that the reaction is much more mixed than what I expected. I loved the point that everybody there had something to atone for. I think while Lyonides is aware of this fact, I don't think he truly understands what that means. In the end, I suspect his ignorance about a great many things will be his undoing. Very tension filled chapter. I'm sitting in eager anticipation for the next installment! Awesome work, as always.
Heya Rev! I’ll admit I always intended that scene to be Padme’s. Her perspective isn’t coloured by guilt and I think that’s important—although we’ll get a stronger glimpse of Anakin’s too in the next chapter. As for the reaction, I suppose I see humans as having a strong survival instinct that would make some quite willing to overlook his past considering what he’s been able to do for them over a few months. Anyway, thanks for the comments. I’m tickled pink you enjoyed it enough to be looking forward to more.
Anakins_Kiss posted:
- Its good that there are some that believe Anakin should be given a chance to redeem himself. I am very worried for Anakin. I know that scene in Jumper and I know what you mean. HC even makes agony look good. He is such a fox. Great update, waiting anxiously.
He does tend to be easy on the eyes no matter what the situation  *g*. More as soon as I can get to it.
Sen_Padme_Amidala posted:
- First of all thank you for the PM, now on to the review.
“How did he end up in the black armour? I mean—is it just me who can’t see that ensemble as a fashion statement?”
That has got to be my favorite line.
LOL I always love writing Lorne. He’s also a great character to have around because he can throw tangents that really help change the mood.
Sen_Padme_Amidala posted:
This was a very intresting chapter. Like Rev, I liked that you had Padme tell the others about Anakin's fall and her involvement in it and, that she told it from her point of view as well. I think in the end it will help her deal with her feelings of guilt and then she and Anakin can move on with their relationship. I also liked that it was not too long or too short. Padme did not go into a lot of detail, but still told them a big portion of what happened. Not an easy thing to condense, but you manage to do it perfectly. I also agree with Rev that Lyonides' ignorance just might be his undoing.
Thank you! I’m thrilled that the scene worked for you so well. I think Padme’s guilt is more a reflection of her character rather than a real reason to feel guilty. Strong characters are hard on themselves, not that I’d know much about that.
Sen_Padme_Amidala posted:
I also know that scene from Jumper and if Anakin is in that amount of pain, then it is just not his day is it? I do agree with LadyZ in that I like the Falleen. For some reason I can't help but think that maybe they can be reasoned into joining the cause aginst Lyonides and ultimatly Sidious? I have a bad feeling about the dream/vision Anakin had about Padme and can only hope she will be OK and that her plan succeeds. Great job , and I can't wait for more!
No, I think it’s safe to say that he isn’t having a good day, lol. As for the ‘cause’ and the plan, we’ll have to see, but I’m afraid that the gang haven’t hit bottom yet to even begin recovering. 
Thank you so much for the lovely review!
nabooqueen2008 posted:
- I always love your posts. You are so precise and detailed! You were right, you can't just say that she told them her past and let it slide at that. Also, with the hint of Padme receiving more than subtle hints about not being able to return to the second world after dying in the first, I wonder if that will play out somehow. Maybe Padme or Anakin? and somehow the other saves the other one somehow? Just a thought. Anyway, you're doing such a phenomenal job. I always anticipate your posts with so much excitement and I can't wait till the next one! ~nabooqueen~
Aw! Thank you. You’re reviews re always so lovely and encouraging. I’m so glad that you’re enjoying the story and updates so much! I can’t really say much on the on whether Padme’s revelations will have an impact later without getting into spoilery territory , but either way I hope you still enjoy it.
ROTSFan posted:
- Wow. That was really great. You really write the pain and torture he is going through well, there was no difficulty in experiencing the blur of nausea and confusion Anakin must have been living in. That dream he's having has me kind of worried though.
Sal opted to remain standing, although he did swipe up one of the other cups. He downed it in one and then glared at the empty bottom. A little on edge, is he?
LOL I don’t think he’s the only one. As for Anakin’s experiences, I’m really pleased (and relieved) that I’m managing to convey that for the reader—thanks for letting me know. I know what you mean about the dream, but unfortunately I can’t get into that now. The next chapter will hopefully answer that though.
MoAngel posted:
- This was wonderful Helen and you can call me by name, all you want. I'd say everyone needs a Seabreeze right about now since that was always Lorne's drink of choice and the electric jolts? Yes Hayden was extremely HOT during those scenes from Jumper. On the same note, when I was leaving the theater February 14th, opening day for Jumper, my bf and I were stopped by a reporter from a San Francisco newspaper, asking us if we could choose, would we be a Jedi or a Jumper. I of course, chose Jedi! Can't wait for more...
Oh wow! I’ve never been stopped by a reporter for an opinion, lol. I would go for Jedi too. Samual L Jackson is too scary as a pursuer! I don’t know about everyone else, but I could do with a Seabreeze about now. More as soon as I can manage it, Mo
KELIA posted:
- I’m begging you. Please, you have to help me, help him. I loved Padme finally explaining everything.
I hope having the whole truth out will prove to be a good thing. Having seen and read Jumper - poor Ani!
Great update
I think Padme is so much better at explanations. Anakin is better with his lightsaber than words, lol. Poor Ani indeed. Thanks for the comments, KELIA!
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fallenangel_613
Registered:
Aug '08
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Date Posted:
8/19 11:22am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Very interesting idea for a story. Could I possibly be added to the PM list?
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VaderLVR64
Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots
Registered:
Feb '04
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Date Posted:
8/19 11:22am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Yet another lovely update. I'm not caught up yet. Stupid move! 
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If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Army Mom! HOOAH! Adopt a soldier: http://soldiersangels.org/
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Sen_Padme_Amidala
Registered:
Apr '07
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Date Posted:
8/19 10:57pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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You are so lucky you get to go to Hogwarts.  I actually just went to England at the begining of July. No rush on the update; can't wait to find out what happens next!
-----signature-----
"I am capable of keeping my mouth shut, I just don't want to" - Siri Tachi
Duct tape is like the Force. It has a Dark side and a Light side, and it holds the universe together.
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LadyZ
Registered:
Jun '00
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Date Posted:
8/30 10:59pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Yes- what happens next?
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1. ROTS 2. AOTC 3. ESB 4. ANH 5. ROTJ 6. TPM
Flash - Silence - TWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAANNNNNGGGGG
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
8/31 2:48pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Hey everyone
I'm so sorry that the next update is taking so long. I've been struggling with a few things recently and it's made concentrating difficult. I hope to have the next chapter up soon and will catch up with replies then too.
Thanks for the patience!
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MoAngel
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
8/31 10:58pm
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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No worries. There were some anxious moments for a while there, but we're all OK now!
-----signature-----
'It's just like the Sith Lords, man, there's always only two of them'
'Did you just Star Wars us'? Booth on Fox's Bones
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Lord_Redav
Registered:
Apr '05
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Date Posted:
9/2 1:43am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padm¨¦-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
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Hey, great story. Add me to the pm list, will ya?
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Helen_Taft
Registered:
Mar '08
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Date Posted:
9/2 6:19am
Subject:
RE: Purgatory (Anakin/Padmé-AU Angst/Action/Romance) Author replies
- Date Edited:
10/11 9:03am (1 edits total)
Edited By:
Helen_Taft
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AUTHOR RESPONSES
fallenangel613 – Of course you can be added to the pm list. Thanks for asking.
VaderLVR64 – No worries. I remember moving all too well.
Sen_Padme_Amidala – I hope you enjoyed your trip. Alnwick Castle was great!
LadyZ – *g* See below*
MoAngel – LOL Sorry about that, Mo! *hug*
Lord_Redav – Of course you can. Thanks for asking.
Quick note - Thanks to IMSDB for quote
Chapter Fifteen
Anakin was given another injection only instead of clouding his mind this one began to clear it. His surroundings slowly stopped spinning and his vision came into focus by degrees. The first thing he noticed was a mosaic floor that stretched out ahead of him, leading to tiered benches crammed row upon row with taut, staring faces. Finally, he saw a smiling, relaxed Lyonides who was, for once, lounging in his ornately carved chair. An equally ornate ceiling soared overhead. Piece by piece he gradually recognised where he was—the palace audience chamber. His hearing cleared too. There were mutters from the packed benches, hissed exchanges that reeked fear. There was also the hum of electronics from dozens of holocam recorders.
It was eerily like his last visit to this very chamber when he’d deliberately baited the city’s undisputed dictator. Only this time his hands were manacled behind his back and there were dozens of blaster rifles aimed at his body.
While his vision had improved everything else was a blur of confusion and he couldn’t think why he was restrained.
Anakin swayed on his feet, barely managing to keep his balance. Every muscle in his body ached and a vice-like headache threatened to crush his skull. He was incredibly weak. Why was he so weak? He tried to think through the pain and confusion, to remember why he was there. It all came back to him in a jagged, despairing rush: the Falleen, his identity as Vader being broadcast for all and sundry to know, Natar arriving with a platoon of troopers, giving himself up rather than risk the others—then pain and disorientation—until the nightmare.
Padmé!
The panic that choked him in his dreams gripped him now. Everything else was forgotten. The lingering after-effects of the drugs they’d been pumping into him cleared enough for one thought. Where was Padmé? Desperate, he sought and found Lyonides, staring into those cold grey eyes to demand, “Where is Padmé Amidala?”
The words came out rusty and slurred, but clear enough. As if his question had been a signal, all other voices went abruptly silent. Directly ahead of him, Lyonides rose to prowl the chamber floor.
“How very devoted and husband-like of you to ask,” said Lyonides with a wry smile that he shared with the assemblage before facing Anakin again, “But, we’ll get to your wife later. For now, we have some questions for you.”
Wife!
How did they know he and Padmé were married? Anakin wondered dully. His head whirled sickly. That was another unfathomable question that he wasn’t up to working out yet. Licking dry lips he tried to sound authoritative, but it only came out pleading, “I need to know she’s alright.”
“Unfortunately, I have no idea where she is.” The corners of Lyonides’ mouth kicked up in another, far less pleasant smile. “However, I can promise you that I plan on remedying that fact soon enough.”
It was a relief to have it confirmed that his deal with Natar had spared Padmé being detained too. Still, Anakin was lucid enough to recognise the threat buried in the casual words. He tried a step forward and almost stumbled when his legs threatened to fold, sending him to his knees. “Leave her alone.”
“Is that an order, Skywalker?” Lyonides sauntered closer, head cocked, expression coolly amused. “Somehow, I don’t think you’ve grasped your situation yet. Let me enlighten you. We’re here to establish who you are—or rather were—and if we as a council should hand you over to the Falleen, who are, as we speak, looming over the city and planning to annihilate us if we don’t.”
Alone, surrounded, Anakin digested that information and closed his eyes, defeated. An icy sickness washed over him. It was over. His efforts to atone, his promise to Padmé—he’d failed it all. His life or the lives of every single Rothian. There was no choice. The brief strength he’d found to defend Padmé withered inside him and died. The whirl in his head returned with a vengeance. He had to swallow to speak. “It doesn’t sound like you have much of a choice.”
Head bowed, he missed the triumph that glowed briefly on Lyonides face. “So, are you admitting that you were Darth Vader, second-in-command to the Emperor and murderer of millions?”
If the chamber had been eerily silent before, it was nothing in comparison to that single, poised-on-a-knife-edge moment of waiting.
There was no thought in Anakin to deny it. He couldn’t. His head was simply too heavy for his neck to lift it, so he didn’t try. He didn’t want to anyway; he couldn’t bear to see the effect of his confession. Only one thing in his life had been harder to do, and that was to kneel before the Chancellor and pledge himself to death. Hollow despair echoed in his voice. “Yes, I admit it. I was Vader.”
The silence lasted a micro-second longer—then the chamber erupted. Peace was shattered. Voices rose and words were lost in the cacophony.
Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back tears and wishing he could block out their reaction. It was as if the horror of his life was being reflected back at him a thousand times over. Given a choice, he would have preferred a return to the oblivion of the drugs.
“Silence!” thundered Lyonides, turning in a circle to glower at the fifty-nine councillors, many of whom had risen from their seats. “Sit down,” he snapped. “We’re not finished here.”
Peace returned, fraught with tension.
“What is the point in dragging this fiasco out any further?” asked Bac Gon into the silence. His grey-skinned Munn face was haughtily impatient. “He has admitted to being Vader. We should just give him to the Falleen and be done with the matter.”
“The point is that I have decided that he will be given a chance to defend himself,” said Lyonides pointedly. He then clasped his hands behind his back, wearing an expression carefully set into sombre lines. His gaze encompassed them all. “Who here can deny that he’s provided important services to the city? Services that demand Vader be given a chance to explain himself—before the vote is taken.” His next gesture took in the crowds waiting outside the palace perimeter. “It would hardly be fair to do otherwise, and the people waiting out there—in the dark and cold—are are expecting nothing less.”
If anyone was surprised to have Lyonides talk about fairness, they didn’t dare mention it, or that he was obviously playing to the media. The holocams whirred and lapped it all up.
Anakin finally looked up, his expression stark. Lyonides carefully prepared statements gave him no relief, quite the opposite. He shook his head, ignoring the pain the movement caused him. “I won’t play your games. I’ve already told you that I was Vader. We both know that you have no choice but to give me over to them—do us both a favour and get it over with.”
“And I’ve already said that a vote will be taken once you’ve been given a chance to explain your past.” Lyonides stepped closer, close enough to lean in and say, “Will you deny your victims the chance to hear for themselves why you did what you did? And the people who believed in you, who thought you could save them—” out of view of the cams, Lyonides’ face twisted, “—do they not deserve an explanation?”
“You’re wasting your time,” Anakin rasped through a tight, dry throat. He could feel every eye on him, filled with fear and condemnation. Shame cut him to the bone, drilling into his mind. He kept his gaze on Lyonides. “I can’t possibly explain any of it to you. I have no excuse, or defence. I don’t have the words. No one could possibly understand—”
“Why don’t you let us decide that,” retorted Lyonides. He returned to his seat. “For a start, we need to know if it’s true that you bombarded a Falleen city from orbit, killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people?”
When Anakin didn’t respond, he leaned forward in his seat, raising his hands. “It is topical, Skywalker. Speak. Enlighten us as to why we have a ship invading our skies.”
There was another thunderous silence.
“Yes, I did it.” Anakin finally replied. “I’d been using the planet as a base for a bioweapons experiment. It went wrong, broke containment. I ordered the city destroyed to prevent an outbreak of a disease that could easily have spread to other planets.”
More mutters broke out from the benches.
Sitting back, sublimely at ease, Lyonides quirked a brow. “That doesn’t sound so monstrous.”
“I didn’t try and evacuate.” Sweat popped out on Anakin’s face. “There were a dozen things that I could have done before killing all of those people. It didn’t even occur to me to try. I judged it more effective to simply incinerate the surrounding area. I didn’t hesitate and felt no remorse. It was wrong, and it was monstrous.”
“And Alderaan?” prompted, Lyonides silkily. “A city wasn’t enough for you so you went after a whole planet—home to millions of peaceful people.”
Having started, Anakin found it spilling out of him. Images and faces swam before his minds eye. Leia, his brave, beautiful daughter, her horror and grief as she watched her home planet blasted into nothingness. All of a sudden he couldn’t hold it back.
“I didn’t pick the target, or order the weapons to fire, but I was there.” Anakin’s stomach roiled under savage twists of guilt. He didn’t notice the single tear that slid down his face. He was too busy being buried alive under an avalanche of memories. “I’d been a Jedi once, I should have protested, done something, but I didn’t. I just stood there watching, and feeling, as millions cried out in fear and then were silenced—forever. Their deaths meant less than nothing to me. I’m culpable.”
o~o~o
The crowd was completely, utterly silent. Lyonides had set up massive viewscreens as big as airbuses at strategic locations all over the city, obviously wanting to make sure that no-one missed the show. All over Roth, people would be standing with faces turned to the sky, or glued to their holo’s at home. It was torture for Padmé to watch. She’d seen Anakin sunk into despair, seen him doubled over with grief, but she’d never seen him broken—not like this. For more than an hour now, he’d been forced to rake over his past. Every question and answer seemed to sap him of life, etching torment ever more strongly on his face. Her own face was wet with tears.
She hadn’t understood fully before, but now she did. The Anakin she’d known and loved had ceased to exist when he’d become Vader. And knowing that, she couldn’t help but think of how much more of a torture it must be to remember it all now that he was back, and to know that, regardless, he was responsible for allowing it to happen. To remember each atrocity and feel, as he hadn’t been capable of feeling at the time, the horror and revulsion—it would drive many insane. He’d been hiding it, denying it by throwing himself at the Narzgh. She’d seen the cracks herself at the first threat of exposure. Anguish closed her throat and her heart ached for him. Her hands fisted. Couldn’t they see just how much he regretted it all, how much he repented? Could anyone miss what she could see so clearly on his face? The guilt was tearing him apart. For stars sake he was practically on his knees!
And yet his first thought had been of her—which was so typical of him.
Gods. She loved him so much! She wished she could make it stop. She despised Lyonides for doing this to him. She had to fist a hand into her mouth to hold back the sobs welling in her throat. Right at this moment, she wished, she dearly, dearly wished that she hadn’t held Anakin at arms length. She should have let herself hold him at least once, and told him that she forgave him and loved him. What if they failed and she never got another chance?
A hand dropped on her shoulder. It was Sal, and it was as if he’d been reading her mind. “They miscalculated,” He told her gruffly. “They should have let him walk in there straight-backed and proud. I mean, look at him. He looks wasted, like he’s been beaten over the head with a club for a couple days. He can hardly stand. He’s broken up. He’s been tortured, you can kriffing see it.” He stabbed a finger at the distant screen. “Compare that picture to the warrior battling Narzgh raid after damned raid. People are going to start to feel sympathy. No-one who sees this—hears this—is going to doubt that he wants to atone. Hell, I wasn’t sure, but this crapshow has me convinced. I guarantee that this is gonna come back and bite Lyonides in the ass.”
“Maybe,” said Padmé, shakily. “But what if it’s too late by then?”
o~o~o
“We’ve covered the highlights, I think,” said Lyonides. He was back to prowling the floor, heels clicking on the decorative floor. “And, so far, we have: mass murder, rampant enslavement and systematic terrorising of whole systems. You were a busy man, Lord Vader.”
“I was trying to bring peace, or thought I was. He told me it was about bringing peace, ending war, suffering—I didn’t realise, and then it was too late.” Anakin’s voice was hoarse, disjointed. It was a gargantuan effort to lift his head and meet Lyonides’ gaze again. “I’ve had enough. I’ve told you enough. End this now, please!”
“In a moment, but first I want you to tell me about the Jedi themselves. Surely, they must have been like your family during your early years?”
Anakin’s head swam, thick with spiking agony from the headache stabbing inside his skull. The Jedi? Yes, the Jedi had been his family, and Obi-Wan his father and brother. Until he’d betrayed them. He saw Obi-Wan’s grief as they faced one another on that landing pad on Mustafar and wanted to reach out and beg. Master, help me!
His answer was also from the past, and heart-breaking. You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you. You were the Chosen One. It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them. Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness.
I had to obey my master. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! Forgive me! Anakin had no clue that he’d spoken the words aloud.
A voice called him back to the present. “You must remember the Jedi, Lord Vader.” Lyonides was standing right in front of him. It might as well have just been the two of them. Everyone else was stunned into absolute, riveted silence. Numbed by pain and exhaustion, Anakin had completely forgotten about there ever having been others in the chamber with them.
Hunched over, barely able to stay on his feet, Anakin was too tired and drained to fight. His tears had dried, but his face was ravaged. “What do you want to know?”
“I want you to think back to the day you first adopted the mantle of Vader. What was the first task that you performed for the new emperor?”
Unbelievably, fresh agony lanced him. No, it couldn’t be… “What do you mean?”
There was no mercy in that icy grey gaze. “Exactly what I say. What was your first task as Vader?”
Once again memories rushed at Anakin. The Jedi Temple, knights and masters he’d known from a youngling, and the younglings. Force! The younglings.
“Master Skywalker, there are too many of them. What are we going to do?”
He’d killed them, cut down innocent children even while they’d been looking to him to protect them. He could see them falling like broken dolls to the floor of the temple—small forms with tiny hands and rounded cheeks. Young lives monstrously taken. It was despicable, unspeakable. How could he have done that? He’d slice his own hands off before he’d hurt a child. Yet he had. It was unbearable to think about. Fresh horror clutched at his chest, raking bloody claws over his mind. He couldn’t block it out anymore and confine the memories to dreams. He didn’t notice the physical pain when he finally fell heavily to his knees.
“No!” Anakin shook his head, sounding like a wounded animal. “NO! It’s not possible for you to know that. How do you know about that?”
Lyonides didn’t stop smiling. “You slaughtered the very people who raised you, including children as young as three, didn’t you? And not from a ship, but up close and personal” He didn’t wait for a reply, “But then killing other people’s children can hardly matter when you almost killed your own.” Mock sorrow flitted over Lyonides’ face. “Poor Padmé assaulted by her own husband on the cusp of giving birth to your son and daughter. How you must have broken her heart. I’m really not surprised that she preferred death to facing that distressing fact.”
Impossible. It was impossible for anyone to know that. Unless…!
A red haze dropped like a curtain over his mind. Without any warning, Anakin lunged to his feet so furiously fast that some of their audience screamed and began to scramble out of their seats. Every word out of Lyonides’ mouth had been like a lash, only this pain had brought anger with it to douse the anguish. It had to be Sidious. He’d suspected that Lyonides was under the emperors sway, but now he knew! Savage fury gave him strength; Anakin could feel it boiling through him, filling his veins with molten energy. Ignoring the troopers now advancing and face contorted, he raged, “How do you know that? No one knows about that. No-one, but him. You’re in league with him aren’t you? ADMIT it!”
Speedily, Lyonides backed away, but it wasn’t a retreat. Coolly, he quirked a brow, casually waving back the troopers even as he spoke, “I don’t know who you mean by ‘him’, unless of course, you mean the white-haired old man who sent you here—Kenobi something or other, isn’t it?”
That broke through the furious haze and stopped Anakin in his tracks. He felt sucker-punched. “No, I don’t believe you. You’re lying. It’s Sidious, not Obi-Wan—”
“Do you think that you’re the only one who gets visits from those on the other side? My informant was an old man with blue eyes. He told me about you. In fact, he had lots of interesting things to say. He was your mentor wasn’t he? If you doubt me, ask yourself how I know that it was he who put you on this so-called path to redemption?”
“You’re LYING!”
Lyonides ignored the desperate shout. “Did you really think that you could redeem yourself? Get back all that you lost because you threw it away? Come on.” Tsking, he slowly shook his head, grey eyes alight with amusement. Almost conspiratorially, he added, “Have you considered that this ridiculous illusion of hope is in fact your punishment, precisely because it will never happen?”
It was Anakin’s turn to back away, utterly and completely shattered. The rage had drained as if it had never been. He was once again mentally reeling, waxy pale and swaying. “No. No.” he denied hoarsely. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”
Retaking his seat, Lyonides finally let his true emotions show—contempt, hatred and triumph. “Look at you. Faced with your crimes you become pitiful, so much for the great Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.” Dismissing Anakin with a derisive flourish, he turned to survey his council. “We’re finished here. It’s time to vote.”
o~o~o
“The council votes are in. They’re giving him to the Falleen—tonight. Just like Jester said they would.” Sal’s expression was grim. “It looks like we’re on.” He gripped Padmé’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Padmé wanted to shake her head. No. She wasn’t okay. She felt wrung-out to the point of being hollow. Instead she nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s go.” She started to weave and thread her way through the remaining throng. “I just hope that Ceetee made it into position?”
“Me,” said Sal, “I’m more worried about Lorne and that bounty hunter. This whole plan hinges on them getting the job done.”
~
Striding down a corridor of the security centre and trying to look like he belonged there, Lorne was feeling the pressure, and not liking it one bit. He couldn’t quite figure out how he’d managed to get himself into this situation again.
Yeesh. So much for ‘once bitten twice shy’.
Jazz, the human female bounty hunter he’d been partnered with, was as tall as the Pylean and looked like she’d born ready to rumble. Wiry red hair tamed into intricate cornrows framed a tanned, hard face. She filled out the male tech’s uniform far more impressively that the poor shmuck who’d originally owned it, and who was now unconscious and stashed away.
As for Lorne, he was wearing a holo-ring around his neck. It was the latest in a line of hi-tech gadgets that would provide a user with a 3-D disguise. It was currently projecting a human head over his own far more interesting and handsome one. Anyone looking at him would see an average Joe with a goofy smile and the charisma of a squashed turnip.
When he said so, Jazz gave him a blank look. “What’s a turnip?”
His reply was a grimace and a forget-it wave of one gloved hand.
Jazz had more than the unconscious tech’s uniform. She also had his identirod and a micro-film cast of his right palm sealed over her own—all they needed to get inside the main control room at the city’s security centre. Of course, getting inside was only a small part of their ‘mission’. They also had to incapacitate everyone inside it and then take all of the equipment offline, effectively blinding Lyonides’ forces.
The security centre was bustling. Techs and troopers streamed passed and the glides and elevators were constantly disgorging passengers—many of whom looked terrified to be there. Lorne didn’t blame them. There was a sterile soullessness to the complex that he found unnerving. The coward in him wanted to run screaming back out into the night. If anyone took it into their heads to sing, he might just do it anyway. They had to take one of the elevators down a level. Exiting with a dozen or so others, they hung a left into another corridor. This level was even less friendly. Directly in front of them a pair of troopers were dragging a limp, groaning man between them whose feet were trailing along behind him. Trying not to imagine were the poor guy was headed, Lorne did his damndest not to catch anyone’s eye. His mouth was dry and both of his hearts were beating a heckova tattoo. By the time they reached the blast-sealed door that protected the control room, his gut was one massive ball of anxious gas.
Looking unflappable and utterly cool, Jazz inserted the identirod, then laid her right hand on the palm-plate located at the side of the door at waist height. Two tension-humming seconds passed before the light went green and the door slid upwards. They were in.
Inside, technology abounded. The blast of noise and images was like a wall of motion that you passed through after crossing the threshold. The door slid shut again behind them. Nobody paid them any notice.
They were standing on a small deck with two steps down leading onto the main floor. The walls and floor were a gleaming black with all colour and light coming from the multitude of images, flashing control panels and consoles. People and droids filled the chairs and darted between stations. Palming the EMP grenade in her left hand and the rebreather in her right, Jazz slid Lorne a tight smile. “What was that phrase you used earlier…‘it’s time to rock and roll’?”
“That would be the one, sugarplum.” The gas grenade in his own hand felt hot and Lorne almost dropped his own rebreather through sheer, sweaty nerves.
Inserting her rebreather, Jazz dropped to the floor, slamming the magnetic bottom of the conical grenade on the floor, activating it. Lorne copied her. An electro-magnetic pulse and coma gas were set off simultaneously. Micro-seconds later, the droids collapsed, folding in on themselves, toppling like mannequins as their processors shut down in the blink of an eye. The humans took a little longer, but even they didn’t have time to realise what was happening and set off an alarm before they too were lying sprawled wherever they’d fallen.
Cautiously rising to stand straight again and take stock, Lorne took his first relatively easy breath. “So far so good.”
Having locked the door from the inside, Jazz tossed him a blaster on her way passed. “You stay by the door and blast anyone who manages to get through. I’ll get the barriers down and make this place unusable for a while.”
The blaster felt even more alien in Lorne’s hand than the grenade had done. “You do that, and try and make it snappy will you. I’ve got a club missing its host.”
~
It took an interminable amount of time to thread through the crowds to the point that Jester had told them they could use the stolen identirod to get through the barrier and into the palace grounds. The hoods of their robes hid Padmé’s and Sal’s faces and they didn’t speak as they skirted the lights, sticking to paths that hugged the walls and the shadows. Taking the East steps under cover of the waterfall that tumbled down between them, they reached the top avenue that ran parallel to the utility and administration areas of the palace. A five minute jog brought them to the single doorway. A dozen meters away from it, Padmé used her comlink. “Ceetee, we’re here. Open her up.”
The door slid open just as they reached it and Ceetee stood framed inside the door frame. The little astromech droid gave a series of buzzes and whistles as a welcome that held more than a hint of relief to see them. At the same moment Padmé’s comlink gave two crackles, just as an alarm started to blare.
She looked at Sal. “Lorne did it. The barriers are down and they know something’s up. We need to get to those hanger bay doors now!”
Sal didn’t argue and they sacrificed stealth for speed. With the barriers all down, the surging, hysterical crowd would keep the troopers busy, but they would also create a greater urgency in Lyonides to get Anakin safely aboard the Falleen ship. Meaning, they had to reach the hanger bay first and seal the doors so that the shuttle intended for use would be inaccessible. Leaving Lyonides with no choice but to return Anakin to the security centre, via a forced march through the courtyard and gardens—an area now swarming with irate citizens, and vulnerable to ambush.
That was the plan anyway. However, the plan suffered a setback when they rounded the last corner and found a quartet of edgy troopers standing right outside the hangar bay doors. The troopers were huddled in a confused group and tapping the sides of their helmets, as if hoping to get their defunct coms systems working with a little persuasion.
Abruptly, Sal and Padmé slowed to a sedate walk, but it was too late. The troopers had spotted them and now formed a line, raising their blaster rifles. “Erm, what’s our excuse for being in the area again?” asked Sal, sotto-voiced.
Padmé sucked in a breath, her mind racing and coming up blank. “We don’t have one.”
“Right. I knew that.” Sal plastered on a big smile for the advancing troopers. “So, what are we gonna do?”
~
Lorne and Jazz almost made it to the elevator. An alarm was blaring with furious urgency and squads of troopers were racing towards the now sealed, and strategically damaged, control room. One of the last to pass them was a group including a ranking officer. He drew the eye simply because he wore no anonymous helmet. A stride passed Lorne, he suddenly whipped around and snagged the Pylean’s elbow. “Hey you! You’re a tech. What in chaos is going on in the control room? Everything’s gone down.” His bullish tone matched a granite hard, scarred face and suggested the current crisis was personally their fault.
Oh, if only he knew, thought Lorne. He gave a sickly smile. “Sorry, don’t have a clue. We’re just off to fetch our repairs kits. Y’know, diagnostic…er…tools to help us figure it out.”
“Repair kits,” the officer echoed, unimpressed, obsidian eyes narrowing.
“The doors have been sealed, sir,” offered Jazz quickly, intervening. “We need a decoder to try and bypass, or failing that, a laser torch. We were just going to get them.”
It took a long heartbeat for him to release Lorne. “Then don’t let me stop you,” he said, not bothering to hide his less than admiring opinion of Lorne. “In fact, I’ll send an escort to make sure no-one else impedes such an important mission. What were your names and rank again?”
“Electrotech First Grade Swayle and Goran, sir,” Jazz answered without missing a beat.
“Okay, Swayle and Goran, here is your escort.” He called over two nearby troopers and gave them their orders, then turned back to Lorne. “Make it quick and don’t keep me waiting. I have a low patience threshold.”
Lorne believed him.
Jazz waited until they were inside the elevator before making her move. With brisk economy, she shot both of their escorts at point blank range. Aghast, Lorne watched them slide motionless to the floor of the cage. The acrid stink of laser discharge, melted plasto and burnt flesh filled the small space.
“Hey, what happened to the ‘no deaths unless it can’t be helped’ proviso of this mission?” he gasped.
“They couldn’t be helped,” Jazz retorted with a hard glance in his direction. She then positioned her considerable bulk in front of the doors, hiding the bodies from immediate view once the doors slid back. “Besides, Amidala isn’t my boss. I got told to get the job done and get out—that’s what I’m doing.”
There was no more time for debate. The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out onto the ground floor of the now frenetic security centre. If possible, even more people were milling around than earlier. Twin hearts hammering, Lorne kept pace with the bounty hunter as they dodged and weaved around the crowd. He could see the exit a dozen meters ahead and had to restrain himself from breaking into a sprint. They were half way there when a commotion broke out behind them.
Sweat popped out on his face and Lorne didn’t dare look around. “Oh. Oh. Not good.”
Jazz risked a glance back. “You’re not wrong. Run, and don’t look back.” She gave Lorne a push, then whirled to face the way they’d come.
Lorne did as he was told and ran, accompanied by the sound of blaster fire. The trouble was there were still a number of people in front of him and several of them were wearing uniforms and carrying blasters. It wouldn’t take a genius to make the connection between the woman firing and the man making a run for it.
He was right.
Two troopers by the exit were already moving to intercept him. He was never going to make it, Lorne realised. Terror twisted his guts. He had no way of defending himself. He hated firearms and had given Jazz back the blaster as soon as he could. Dumb mistake.
Without any warning, someone grasped his elbow, swung him around and through an open doorway into a small, empty corridor. The door hissed shut behind him. Braced for being shot, Lorne froze and squeezed his eyes shut.
Only to snap them open again when a cultured voice said, “Take off the holo-ring. Your real appearance is far less of a danger to you now than the disguise.”
What he saw was an old man with close-cropped white hair and beard and incredibly calm blue eyes. “Excuse me?” Lorne said, bewildered. “Who are—”
He was cut off. “There’s no time for explanations, my friend. We really don’t have long. They’ll get through this door far easier than the control room. If you want to survive, you must do exactly as I say.”
“Well, since you put it like that…”
With shaking hands, Lorne once again did as he was told. There was something so trustworthy about the old man that it seemed impossible to resist. The holo-ring disengaged with a crackle of energy and he was able to pull it away easily. The old man took it out of his hand and replaced it with a shimmering cerise shirt and an equally eye-popping floor length magenta robe. The holo-ring was soon tucked away out-of-sight under the old man’s own nondescript brown robe.
“Remove the jacket and change—swiftly please. They’re already working on breaking through to pursue you. We have to be ready for when they do.”
The reminder wasn’t reassuring. “This isn’t my usual kind of gig, so I’m no expert, but shouldn’t we be running somewhere?” Lorne asked as he shrugged out of the dull, forest green jacket.
“No, running will do us no good. Just trust me, and let me do the talking.”
That was fine with Lorne. He’d never pretended to be a hero. “The floor is yours. I’m too terrified to spit, never mind talk my way out of this mess.”
As soon as Lorne had removed it, the jacket went the same way as the holo-ring, leaving no trace of the escaping human male in a tech’s uniform. The transformation was finished just in time. Lorne had just managed to don the robe when the door gave way and troopers stormed through the smoking gap.
Lorne couldn’t suppress a yelp when half a dozen blasters were suddenly staring him in the face.
The small space was literally bristling with aggression. “Who are you two?” asked one of the troopers. “State your business.”
Unfazed, the old man flashed a palm-sized transparent card. “I have a visitors pass. My friend and I had become lost and were on our way back to the reception area when a man came barrelling along and almost sent us flying. Then, when we got here, we found the door sealed.”
Obviously anxious to get on with the chase, they accepted his story without question, zeroing in on the reference to their fugitive. “This man you saw, did you see which way he went?”
“I’m afraid that I really couldn’t say.” The old man looked properly apologetic and utterly harmless. “We were more concerned with getting out of his way.”
Once again they took his word without so much as a suspicious flicker. Lorne could only stand and stare as they raced off down the corridor, leaving the exit clear.
“Right,” said the old man with a mischievous smile, clapping Lorne on the shoulder. “I think that’s our queue to make a swift exit. Follow me.”
The reception area was carnage and there was no sign of Jazz anywhere. It looked like a war zone and Lorne couldn’t help but admire a woman who could do so much damage single-handedly. He just hoped she’d managed to get herself out. As for their escape, in all the confusion no one questioned a non-human walking around where he shouldn’t be. With calm, measured steps, Lorne and his strange new ally simply walked out of the building.
Once outside, Lorne tossed up his hands and finally asked, “Okay, I’m as impressed as all get out, and grateful to boot, but who the heck are you?”
“I’m a friend of a friend, and I can’t say more than that so it’s no use pressing me.” The old man was sprightly and didn’t slow down, leading Lorne on a criss-crossing route away from the security centre, talking as they walked. “I have to go very soon. By rights, I shouldn’t even be here at all. But before I do go, I would offer you a word of advice. Don’t go back to your club. Head straight for the Limidian and wait there for the droid and the pilot. As soon as they’re onboard, take off and leave the city. Do not delay.”
Despite the large part of him that wanted to get far, far way, Lorne halted and planted his hands on his hips. “Okay, and now you’re scaring me. What about the princess and the love of her life we’ve just been trying to rescue—with a lot of pain and trouble, I might add?”
The old man stopped too. This time real sadness passed over the calm expression—a cold breeze over a sandy shore. “Anakin and Padmé will not make it to the ship, but with a bit of luck your paths will cross again.” Briskly, he went on before Lorne could interject. “Just make sure you head south east once you’re away from Roth, and, along the way, persuade that irascible pilot you call friend to sing you a song.”
~
“Halt and raise your hands in the air. This area is restricted.”
All Padmé could think was that right now they were dealing with four troopers. In less than a minute that number could leap up to hundreds. They had to act now.
The decision hadn’t been fully made before the blaster was in her hands and she was diving to the side, squeezing off shots that hit two of the four troopers dead centre in the chest. Sal had done likewise, catching the third trooper high in the shoulder. Ceetee gave an electronic squawk and zoomed over to hug the wall, out of the immediate line of fire. Lying flat on her front, Padme continued to fire, clipping the fourth and final trooper on his helmet and distracting him enough that Sal could finish him off.
There was no time even for a second of relief. Scrabbling to their feet, they raced towards the hangar bay doors. Even before they’d reached them, Padmé recognised the dreadful, heavy march of super battle droids. A glance inside was all it took. She had to be pulled back by Sal to escape from the cannon fire that almost peppered her face. Her heart didn’t just sink, it dive-bombed to the floor. Lyonides hadn’t been so cavalier with the security of the hanger bay after all. It was full of heavily armed droids.
Next to her, a panting Sal groaned, “We are so doomed!”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t disagree with that despairing assessment. It was desperation that made her do it. Sucking in a deep breath, she lunged for the other side of the wide double doors. Behind her, she heard Sal yelling at her for being an idiot. Cannon fire spat hot streaks that just missed her head. One of those streaks passed so close to her shoulder that she thought for a heart-stopping moment that she’d been hit, then she was on the other side and protected by the reinforced frame.
Sal had tried to cover her mad dash by firing at the super battle droids. Padmé kept up the barrage from the other side too, knowing as she did that they could only slow them down. There were simply too many of them. The wall opposite was already pitted, blackened and charred. “Ceetee,” she yelled. “The charges…I need them.”
Sal continued firing to protect the droid’s manic zoom across the open doorway. “Tell me you’re not gonna do what I think you’re gonna do?” he shouted to Padmé.
“Just be ready to run,” she advised him grimly. Taking each of the tiny, but incredibly destructive mines out of Ceetee’s storage compartment, she prepped them for detonation with a mere flick of her fingernail, then sent them skittering into the hanger bag. The last one hit a super battle droid that was fast bearing down on them. They had mere seconds left.
“Ceetee, seal the door.” Padmé yelled. The doors slid across and then a blast door slammed down from above.
“RUN!” Ceetee, Padmé and Sal got moving, racing to get as much distance as possible from the imminent explosion.
o~o~o
Anakin was an emotional husk. A blessed numbness was smothering every thought and emotion, dulling everything to cold grey. The minuscule part of his mind that was still paying attention to his surroundings was aware that something had gone wrong with the plan to hand him over to the waiting Falleen. The air was rife with anger, confusion and frustration. He simply didn’t care.
They hadn’t bothered to dose him up again—they didn’t need to. He was surrounded by guards with his hands still manacled behind his back, and simply went where he was led. They took him out of the palace and into the grounds.
He was so mired in his own numb despair the pushing, shoving and jostling didn’t register at first. When it did, it still took several moments for him to realise why it felt familiar—then the darkness, the sea of people, and his vision all seemed to close in on him, sucking the air out of his lungs and cramping his gut with horror. His nightmare—this was his nightmare coming true. That realisation blasted away the mind fog, replacing it with something far worse. The abrupt change made him dizzy. His senses returned in a pained rush, bombarding him with information. The crowd was a huge, boiling mass of thrashing hysteria highlighted by a dozen powerful sets of roving floodlights. The sheer level of noise made picking out individual words impossible. The guards, along with Anakin, were being pelted with detritus. The whole square was verging perilously close to a full-scale riot.
Heart thundering, Anakin ignored it all. He reached out to the Force, then recoiled at the rising dark energies poisoning it. Terror skittered down his spine along with self-loathing. How could he have only just noticed? Why hadn’t he sensed it sooner? His nightmare hovered at the edge of his mind, tormenting him, especially the last image of Padmé’s lifeless form being snatched out of reach.
Desperation left no room for anything else. All Anakin knew was that he had to find Padmè first, and then get her as far away from here as possible. He didn’t doubt that she was here.
He searched the crowd and faces leapt out at him, but none were hers. There were so many people that despair threatened to make a return. How was he supposed to find Padmé amongst so many? As the small cavalcade of Anakin and his escort pushed through, the cries, yells and obscenities reached a cacophony. The crowd pressed in. The guards shoved back, hurling orders and threats that were ignored. Crowd control was failing, pushing the guards into a tighter ring around Anakin and hindering him. It really was like being tossed and battered about in a stormy ocean. With his hands still manacled behind his back, it took some effort to retain his balance, but it didn’t stop him from turning in circles to continue his frantic search.
The guards riding speederbikes skimmed warningly close to the heads of the crowd, only instead of intimidating the people, the tactic only angered them. One of the speeders, along with its rider, was downed even as Anakin’s attention was drawn by a flash of dirty white up ahead.
It was Ceetee. Ahead and to the right, the little astromech droid was doing a good job of muscling his way through the densely packed bodies. Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. Padmé! She wouldn’t be far away.
Then he saw her. She was following the droid, squeezing between the crush. Her dark hair was set into elaborate coils and her face was doll-like thanks to concealing cosmetics, but he would recognise her anywhere. Their eyes met briefly before the small gap in the crowd closed again and he lost sight of her. They’d been three meters apart. Determination to get to her was like a shot of adrenaline. Anakin lunged between two of his guards, using his weight to try and push through the crowd. The sheer size of the crowd pushed back, stopping him from making any headway. The guards were so busy they didn’t even notice. Frustration, fear and anger writhed in him like live snakes.
Another gap opened up. As Padmé wasn’t fighting against the crowd, she’d managed to squeeze closer.
Two meters now.
He refused to lose her. This dream was not coming true. He wouldn’t let it.
He yelled her name, “Padmé!”
It was like screaming into the wind. The words were snatched away by the roars of thousands.
The dark side was growing, mushrooming. Panic hazed Anakin’s mind and he threw it off—he refused to fail. He launched himself back into the crowd, heaving with his legs to force himself between those that got in his way. Curses were bellowed in his ears. Fury bubbled in his veins that he couldn’t work his way through as fast as he wanted. He didn’t have time to waste, every second was precious. He felt a frisson of warning from the Force, and lashed out with a Force-push at three guards that had followed him. As if picked up and tossed by some unseen giant hand, the guards went sailing into the air for several meters and then plummeted back into the thrashing mass.
Then it started to rain.
It took a second to sink in. Even the guards froze. Nothing else could have had the effect those simple drops of water had. As one, the crowd looked up at the sky, towards where the barrier should have been to protect the Core. The rain continued to fall, getting heavier. The barrier was gone. There was a heartbeat of silence, then the screaming started as pure panic set in. If possible the mayhem tripled. Buffeted on every side by people who were now trying to scramble their way out of the square, Anakin continued to heave and push, using his shoulders to ram his way through. It didn’t matter, he was powerless to stop himself from being swept up in the mass escape attempt. The guards were equally eager to leave and forget their charge. The rain continued to hammer down, soaking Anakin to the skin.
Planting his feet to stop himself being dragged further away, Anakin tipped back his head and roared Padmé’s name.
And saw her. The dark side was so strong now it felt as if every indrawn breath sucked it into his chest. Horror surged sickly. He was running out of time. Dodging and weaving, pushing and ramming, Anakin forced his way closer to her. Padmé was doing the same. His desperate resolve was mirrored on her face.
“Padmé, RUN. Please, please run.”
The darkness was closing in, he could feel the hot, fetid breath of it gathering just ahead. The Force was quivering with it. Realising he had to get his hands free to defend Padmé, Anakin focused all of his considerable will on the manacles. With a click, they snapped open and fell to the ground, instantly lost under panicked feet.
One meter. Please, please. Let me be in time.
“You have to get out of here,” he yelled at her. “Padmé…RUN—” Anakin had to throw himself to the side as more of the crowd stampeded passed, almost mowing him down. Like everyone else, their faces were dazed and white with shock.
The screaming was deafening and the rain was a watery bombardment. She couldn’t hear his desperate shouting. Padmé’s own lips were moving, trying to tell him something in turn.
The crowd was definitely thinning, but there were still enough panicked people milling around to create an obstacle course. Only a few more seconds, Anakin told himself, and then he’d reach her.
Throwing out an arm between fleeing bodies, she reached for his hand. Anakin did the same, thinking that as soon as she was in his arms, he was going to bodily force her away from this place.
Behind and to the side of Padmé, Ceetee gave a shrill whistled warning.
It happened in the blink of an eye. A dark, cloaked figure materialised directly behind Padmé. Before Anakin could do anything, it had clubbed Padmè over the head. Face turning blank with shock, she crumpled. The Narzgh caught her around the waist and picked her up as if she were a doll.
“NOOOO.” On a surge of molten fury, Anakin went to leap after them, except something viciously strong wrapped around his left ankle, holding him fast. He fell, writhing and kicking out at the clawed hand that had him anchored, and yelling hoarsely. Bravely, Ceetee zapped the Narzgh holding Padmé, only to be kicked over onto its side for the attempt.
The droid landed with a protesting razz and a clang on the ground. At the same moment, a compartment on the droids compact body slid open, shooting something slim and cylindrical straight at Anakin. He caught it, activating his lightsaber and sweeping it down to slice off the forearm of the emerging Narzgh that had grabbed hold of him. Free, he rolled to his feet and gave pursuit.
Anakin’s mind was a red haze. It was as if the broken man of mere minutes earlier had never existed. Every nerve, every atom of his body was focused on rescuing Padmé. Nothing else mattered. Did this creature really think that he’d let it snatch her away? He was a blurring streak pounding through the drumming rain. The Narzgh carrying Padmé spun to meet him, igniting a lightsaber of its own.
“Let her go!” Face tight, almost feral with fury, Anakin snarled the demand.
Instead of replying, the Narzgh struck out. Red and blue clashed. Anakin was hampered by the fact that he couldn’t risk hurting Padmé—the Narzgh by being able to fight only single-handedly.
Slash, slash, parry, riposte, block. Anakin aimed for the Narzgh’s legs only to be blocked. The constrained duel continued, until, obviously tiring of it, the Narzgh retreated, spun and ran towards a nearby abandoned speederbike. It moved superhumanly fast. Anakin followed. Other Narzgh came at him from all sides and were swiftly dispatched, not even slowing him down. He refused to let them—or anything get in his way. His pounding strides created splashes on the sodden ground. The lights continued to zigzag over the now deserted square. The Narzgh and Padmé were highlighted for a second by that bright yellow glow just as the Narzgh climbed onto the speederbike with Padmé and started the repulsorlift engine with a throbbing whine. Anakin reached for more speed, knowing even as he did that he wouldn’t get there in time to prevent the bike lifting off. Desperate, he used the Force to throw his lightsaber in a whirling arc, aiming for the rear thrusters.
Wit | |