The Penitent -- continued

Okay, we seem to have hit a technical snag in the old thread, so we can continue here. Hopefully, anyway...

The completed story so far is at Vader's Mask--The Penitent


Summary so far:

Background: The story is related to some of my solo stories, particularly the Father's Heart stories, which tell about Vader and Leia's backstory, and First Encounter , which explains how Amidala happens to be alive and Queen of Naboo a year or so after Return of the Jedi.

Prologue: Resurrection -- Luke, Han, and Leia are called to the remote and dangerous Runa system, where an Imperial cloning lab is found. In it, they find a thirteen-year-old clone of Anakin Skywalker, created by Palpatine -- but never used -- as a final temptation for Vader. Though Anakin (in spirit form) believes that just about anyone deserves a second chance more than he does, Luke is able to convince him that no one else needs one more. He takes the clone. Han and Leia are not thrilled. They head back to Naboo, where Amidala is waiting.

Part One: The Road Home -- Anakin arrives back in Theed, and spends some quiet time getting used to being alive and himself again. He and Amidala are able to regain their friendship, but his apparent age is problematic for the rest of their relationship. Leia becomes increasingly agitated. Lando is elected Prince of Theed, and sets about the business of rebuilding the ruined city. A transport arrives from the world of La'azum (where Leia and Vader have some shared history), carrying the former Imperial officer, Kyrys Tashin, who confesses to many war crimes, including a massive tragedy on La'azum. His mysterious four-year-old daughter, Isabel, sees the Dead that haunt him and are driving him mad. Anakin respects this man, and steps forward to take the responsibility himself. By doing this, he makes all the family secrets public knowledge. Leia's position as Chancellor is called into question. She returns to Naboo to oversee the trial of Tashin.

Part Two: Judgment -- The trial of Kyrys Tashin. With Amidala's council serving as the court officers and Amidala herself as the judge, Kyrys Tashin is put on trial for the tragedy at Ihivizi Spring on La'azum. In order to offer valid testimony, Anakin legally claims responsibility for his identity as Vader, and the charges begin to file in. Jelon Laryhi, a religious leader from La'azum who has a mysterious connection to the Sith (though he is himself a good man), testifies that the victims at Ihivizi were committing an act of overt war against the Empire, and that the Empire's actions were not directly responsible for the deaths. Amidala is left with little legal choice -- she is able to convict for a single human rights violation, and people are displeased. Meanwhile, Leia finally reaches a breaking point... she knows she has to talk to her father. They come to some kind of provisional peace -- just before the Ka'alyan (members of the religious sect who were the victims at Ihivizi) stage a clumsy assault on the palace. Anakin is able to defuse it partially, and Lando's Theed troops are able to break up the riot, but not before Tashin is badly wounded. Jelon Laryhi calls for an end to the anger; the Ka'alyan are now split into antagonistic camps.

And that's about where we left off.

If you posted on the old thread since 5/8/2000, it never showed up...

 

Oh, almost forgot an important thing that was just set up. Obi-Wan (in spirit form) has informed Anakin that the Jedi on the other side have decreed that he is to let the semi-unstable, rapidly growing clone deteriorate on its own, and go back into the Force willingly, as they believe he had no business taking the clone in the first place. Isabel Tashin has already stated her opposition to their thought process.

 

Brief post to get us going again. When we last left our handsome heroes, Anakin was talking to Obi-Wan on the balcony, and Amidala had slipped past him, into the handmaidens' quarters, which have not been repaired, where she's sitting in the ashes feeling lonely.
---------

Anakin stayed on the balcony after Obi-Wan left, feeling the gentle breeze coming up from the river, pulling through his hair and caressing his scalp with a hundred intimate fingers. Naboo was a kind world; he loved it, though he was increasingly homesick for the desert.

I will probably not live to see Tatooine again. I have work to do, and time is probably short. Accept it.

His legs responded with a surge of pain, the clone almost gleefully responding to Obi-Wan's sentence with another incipient growth spurt. He took measure of himself in relation to the doors -- when he'd first arrived, he'd been about half the height of an average balcony door. He was closer to two-thirds now. And, as to the only measure that really mattered to him, the top of his head was now above Amidala's chin. He'd grown perhaps seven inches in six weeks; it couldn't be good for the cloned heart.

I can count on a year, he thought. I can put up with a lot of pain and operate under unstable physical conditions. After a year, it will get dicey.

He sighed. It was possible that when he reached his natural size, the obscene rate of growth would stop, and his heart would stabilize on its own. He would hold on to that. A year wasn't enough to do... everything he needed to do to fix it.

He went inside, meaning to head back to the infirmary, but he saw soft footprints in the dust. He followed them, knowing without question that they would lead to the handmaidens' quarters. He'd followed this path many times in happier days.

He saw her from the door, sitting among the ashes as she'd once sat in the morning light. The moonlight glowed against her hair and her gown, giving her a glow no less pronounced than Obi-Wan's. She looked desperately unhappy. He went to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and squatted down beside her.

She closed her eyes. "Hello."

"Come here," he said, and wrapped his arms around her.

She turned into his embrace, her eyes still closed against the sight of the clone, and she clung to him. He shifted to hold her more comfortably. He didn't try to make her talk about what was bothering her. He just smoothed her hair, and whispered comforting nonsense into her ear. He would not remember later what he said, and neither would she.

After awhile, she pulled away from him, and opened her eyes. "Thank you, Ani," she said, squeezing his hands. "I needed that."

"As did I."

She smiled faintly, regretfully, and sighed. "I'm going to go back up to my quarters now, Ani. I think maybe you should... go back to the infirmary or something."

"I understand."

He watched her leave, the glow of the moonlight fading as she dropped into the shadows.

I'll fix this room, he thought. I'll start there, fix something for the person I owe the most to first. I'll give her something that will make her happy.

He smiled in the darkness, and stood to return to the infirmary.

 

Another great post, JG!

Sorry to hear that your thread also went down the tubes. This forum has been a real mess the last few days...

 

Ahhh, this story is taking such a sad turn...but I love it anyway! I'm glad to see it's up and running!

 

Have some faith, JF. This is a springtime story. Rejuvenation and renewal. It's coming. I think you'll like what Skysong and I have planned. But there's some winter left to get through first.

 

I love this thread (delurks for first time here) !! Ani/Ami!! Yay!

 

Lando had things mostly under control in the temporary prison he'd made in the basement of the palace. It was close enough to the hot springs that he could hear the water bubbling enticingly in the echoing hallways. He could use a long, leisurely soak, truth to be told.

But he had other work to do now.

Tili, the Gungan woman who'd first warned him of the coming attack, had organized half of the city guard to keep watch on the prisoners -- the windows and doors weren't actually secure, so the place was starting to take on the look of an Imperial fortress, with guards at every entrance -- and her husband, Arphon, was using the other half to clean up the courtyard. The Alderaanians and the Naboo didn't so much as blink at taking orders from them, and that, at least, was an improvement over what Naboo had once been known for.

"Hey, Tili!" he called.

She came over, looking distractedly over her shoulder at a group of guards that wasn't as strongly at attention as she thought they ought to be. "Yes, Prince Lando?"

"Will you just call me Lando? You saved my royal butt today."

"If you wish it, yousa Highness."

Lando shook his head. The Naboo and the Gungans had one thing in common -- they both were stuck like glue on form. "Look, you've had a long day. I can hold down the fort here."

She looked uncertainly at the guard. "Theysa never done this before. Theysa nervous."

"Me, too. But we'll get by. You get some sleep. Tell Arphon to give the reins over to someone he trusts outside. Then the two of you go home and relax."

It was a measure of her weariness that she acquiesced after only a few minutes. Lando kissed her cheek. She gave him a surprised look, but didn't say anything about it before she left.

"You!" one of the prisoners shouted.

Lando turned. "What do you want?"

"We all want to talk to the astaya."

"I'll send for him in the morning."

"Now. Whisper's going around that he had a vision."

Great. Whispers about visions. It was like being surrounded by a hundred Luke Skywalkers. One was fine. He liked one. But all these vapors and dreams were going drive him nuts pretty soon. "All right, all right," he said. He gestured to an Alderaanian man -- what was his name? -- "Hey, umm... Serian... you want to go find Laryhi? He's probably in the thick of it somewhere."

"Yes, sir."

Serian bowed smartly -- add the Alderaanians to the Naboo and the Gungans on the matter of form; Leia was positively freewheeling, comparatively -- and ducked out into the night.

"Happy?" Lando asked the prisoner.

"Not even close."

He rubbed his eyes. "Look, it's been a long day. Will you try to calm yourself down and get some rest?"

The prisoner looked at him dully, and Lando knew the chances were slim.

 

You guys are so great I love this story!!!
POSTPOSTPOSTPOSTPOSTPOST!!

 

To say it loud and clear: I want Anakin to LIVE! Very long and HAPPY!

Else, a great story. Please continue it soon.

 

I want him to live long and happy, too, Ulrike. So does Isabel Tashin.

 

So will they live happy ever after ???? please!!!

 

Well, no one lives forever... But we shall see how it goes.

 

Jelon Laryhi made his way through the palace, a young Alderaanian man leading him through the increasingly dark hallways. There was little talk, and none of it of significance; pity, Jelon would have liked to get an Alderaanian view on the matter, other than young Ivva's.

They arrived at the makeshift prison, and Prince Lando himself met them at the door. He dismissed the Alderaanian guard, with strong instructions to go home and get some sleep. "Good evening, Astaya," Calrissian said. "Your people are asking about a vision."

Jelon shrugged. "I have none to give them; only advice."

"They may be real disappointed with that, and with the mood in there -- "

Jelon raised a hand, and gave him a smile. Calrissian gave him an odd look, then shook off whatever had struck him. Jelon dismissed it. "I will speak to them. The Ka'alyan are weary. I am weary. It is time for everyone to rest."

He went into the room. There were only about ten Ka'alyan here, ten who had refused to leave the square earlier. He didn't know if the offshoot group had been here yet.

"Astaya!" a woman called. "It was whispered through the window that you'd seen a vision."

"I wish I had. Come, children." Jelon sat down on a low stool, and the Ka'alyan sat around him. He took the hands of the two closest. "There's been no vision, other than what we can all see. We are in pain, and there is anger and fear. Some of us have split off. But I must ask you to respect the law of the land. Seeking revenge... it is an unproductive course. You are free to leave -- at least to leave the way of the Seers; it is a matter for the Theed guard if you are free to leave this place tomorrow -- and you are free to come back. But that is the term. You must make peace with the galaxy as it is, and not give in to the hatred of your former enemies."

A few stood, and stalked back to the wall. The young woman who had first spoken looked stricken. "No vision, then?"

"No vision."

"Then how do you know you're right?"

"Some things don't require a vision."

She began to cry, and Jelon realized for the first time that she wasn't a young woman, but an older girl, maybe Rashara's age. Young enough, as the Ka'alyan elders said, to have never seen the rains. "I'm tired," she said. "I'm so tired."

Jelon smoothed her hair. "I know. I know."

He called back the remaining few. "You don't need to decide tonight," he said. "You will, the judgment is coming. But for tonight, just rest. Sleep. Be at peace."

Perhaps it was his voice, or some quiet gift of the Force. Or maybe it was just a measure of their weariness. But, one by one, they sat, then stretched out on the floor, and dropped off into a thin sleep. Jelon stayed with them, keeping vigil with the moon.

Around them, Naboo at last quieted, and slipped into the dreams that follow an endless day.

 

Yay, part 2 is finally done! Brief interlude, before we head into the next meaty section.
-----------------
INTERLUDE: GROWING PAINS

In the week following Tashin's trial, many other things happened in the galaxy.

A tidal wave crashed the last part of the ithsmus of Fazon into the oceans of Ampinua. The city itself had been nearly deserted since the last wave had swept across it; there was enough warning this time that only a very few people were caught in the destruction. Still, it got people talking about lost cities and hidden secrets that had nothing to do with the trial on Naboo.

On Malastare, a new racing champion took a lot of attention from any political news.

On Bespin, the Guild and the local miners finally met with one another, and were in negotiations. Arguments raged, both in the local nets and the industry nets, about the wisdom of a self-sufficient outpost joining the Guild, and Lando Calrissian's advice was sought on the matter without thought for his current situation.

On Coruscant, a dazzling new opera had opened, using the old Alderaanian myths of the warrior queen Gerah and the angels Uali and Voj as a base. General Han Solo and Chancellor Leia Organa-Solo were guests of honor at the premiere, and, though neither had felt much like attending an opera, the trip and its frivolity had left them in relatively good spirits, and Leia approved strongly of the opera. She and Han opted to remain on Coruscant for a time after the performance. She had work to do, sorting through the charges that were filing in against her father, but for a little while, she let other business occupy her.

On Tatooine, of course, there was personal interest in matters of the Skywalker family (most had conveniently forgotten that one favorite son had been a slave when he lived there, while the other was an unknown farmboy) but on the matter of the trial of Tashin, Tatooine had no fixed opinion. It had simply been a chance to advance the opinion that something in the desert made people strong. That week, a year-long vogue of rough-camping began, and the local rangers went on harder duty rescuing the inexperienced fools who got themselves lost in the Wastes.

In other words, life went on for most people in most parts of the galaxy. It always did.

But on La'azum and Naboo, those who remained were acutely aware that they were poised between two trials, standing in the eye of a storm that would sweep the two worlds into a deadly dance with one another. Tashin's trial had been a rehearsal (that was a generally accepted opinion for all concerned, including Tashin in the few moments when he regained consiousness enough to have an opinion on anything); Vader's trial would be the real thing. None of this one-day-of-testimony business. There was preparation.

Lando -- when not blessedly sinking himself into the less complicated politics of Cloud City -- finally put his foot down and insisted that at least the outer shell of the palace would become a priority in the repairs. Amidala, for a wonder, gave in without much more than a token argument.

"I just don't want to live like a despot," she said, watching the throngs of workers arriving on the scaffolding on a morning a week after the verdict. "I don't want to aggrandize this place while there are still people living in Theed in temporary shelters."

Anakin nodded. His lips were pressed thinly together, and his eyes felt like they'd been blacked and pushed back into their sockets. He hadn't slept for two days. The clone had gained an inch and a half in a week. He'd gritted his teeth, and worked on cleaning out the rubble in the handmaidens' quarters, keeping his mind busy and off the growing pains. "They know that, Amidala," he said. His voice was still not a man's voice, but it was not a small boy's voice, either. "They know where your priorities are. But the palace is a public refuge as well as your living space. You can't guard it when nearly a quarter of the outer wall is shattered."

Luke nodded. "He's right, Mother."

"Oh, I know it. I just... I don't

 

Eek! I almost missed these posts! So Luke and Ani are finally going to train together? This should be interesting!

 

I love the Ani/Luke interaction. Top!

 

Up, up, UP!!

 

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. What a wonderful story! Thanks so much. Just what I needed after getting home from a grueling 12 hour shift in a hospital.

 

JediG., I just read your Father's Heart series and would just like to say that I thought that they were absolutely incredible . Maybe it has partly to do with the fact that I read them all in one foul sweep and there were no distracting "to the top" messages (I'm guilty of that as well ), but whatever it was they were amazing. <runs back to reread them>.

 

Thanks, Cerberus, glad you liked them. (And I must say, good Sith name!)

 

Morning on Coruscant.

It was messy and smelly, and not all that different from noon, evening, or midnight. But there was something, Han thought, some trick of the light, that made everything seem just a little bit newer and brighter.

Leia was sitting out on the balcony. She'd taken to wearing her hair down nearly all the time, parted on the side, the smaller section lifted above her ear with a comb. Han liked it, and had gone to the market plaza and bought her several combs from many places around the galaxy. This morning, she was wearing one made from a clear green stone -- somthing like an emerald, but easier to shape -- that came from a world far in the Outer Rim, across the galaxy from Naboo and Tatooine. It caught the morning sun and arced it back like a laser.

She was buried in a report of some kind, her comm pad on her one knee (the other was draped casually over the arm of the chair; she looked more comfortable than Han remembered seeing her for awhile). She looked up over the top of it. Her eyes were weary. Han wondered if she'd gotten any sleep after he dropped off; she'd been wide awake when his own eyes shut of their own accord. "Good morning."

"Morning."

"I have to get to this."

Han sighed. "The charges against Anakin?"

She nodded. "A lot of them won't stick, and that's going to present its own problems."

"So we've seen."

"But enough of them are true... he'll be the first to admit it... "

"So was Tashin. He confessed to so much that none of his confessions could be accepted."

"He won't make Tashin's mistake. He never makes a mistake he's already seen or made once." She grinned wearily. "He just seems to have an unending supply of original mistakes to choose from."

Han sat down across from her, grabbing a bit of bread and cream for breakfast. "They going to try him here?"

"Mother will never extradite him."

"She'll sit in judgment?"

Leia looked up hopefully, then shook her head. "No. She won't. She knows better. She'll have the Republic come to Naboo. There's precedent."

"Yeah, I know."

"And that's going to leave it in my lap."

"The Chancellor doesn't need to preside at every trial, Leia... "

"I tried that argument already." She sighed and put the comm pad down, then stood to look out over the city. "I've been communicating with my colleagues by computer for several hours now. The consensus -- though I find it hard to believe -- is that the Chancellor should preside over a trial of this magnitude. To judge in the name of the Republic."

"But he's your father. You can't... "

She shook her head. "I could beg off on that technicality. I've thought about it. I don't want to do this. But... "

"But you don't trust anyone else to do it, either."

"Exactly, I... " She turned to him, leaned against hte balcony wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her eyes were deep and intense. "I get messages from people. About half are screaming for blood. The others want total absolution. The Senate is not that different from the people it represents. There's very little middle ground."

"And you're on it?"

"No. But I understand both extremes, and they average out." She turned away again. "I can judge him fairly because I've loved and hated him equally, and I can see everything because of it. I can't be like the Ka'alyan anymore, reaching for revenge. But I can't be like Luke, either, just chopping off the parts of him I don't like and leaving myself with some perfect image. I have to see him as a whole. And I'm not convinced that anyone else technically qualified to judge this trial even wants to do that. So I'll sit in judgment on my father."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. I don't want to, Han... I really don't... but I have to. And I will."

 

AAAA! I just read the whole story (yes
tonight, forgive the slow on the uptake
folks out there!) And you guys rule. This
is so wonderfuly sweet and sad and romantic
in it's own way. Love it...every mintute of
it. Keep it up!

marie

 

I just can't imagine a solution to this trial dilemma.
I only hope that you can!

 

I can't imagine one either! But I trust that the authors have it all taken care of!