Over The Hills And Far Away - A Star Wars Fanfiction - Chapter 3
Summary: AU. Anakin discovers Sidious' plans and decides to twart him any way he can. That means being his prisoner. He asks Obi-Wan to take care of Padmè then swears he will find them. This is his journey through the galaxy and his soul to find his family.
Rating: Teen+ for some mild curising and some very mild references to sex.
Charachters: Anakin Skywalker. Padmè Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, Darth Sidious (mentioned), Luke Skywalker, Leia Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Many OCs.
Timeline: Empire Era. Starts in the middle of Episode III, goes AU from there on, jumps seven years ahead.
Chapters are getting longer now. Gonna post them under the "Read More" tag.
Chapter 3 - He Swears He Will Return One Day
When you have nothing to do all day, time passes really slowly and that's common knowledge, it's a constant of everybody's life. But when you're laying on the filthy floor of your cell listening to your own blood oozing from your wounds that are slowly healing, time can pass even at a slower rate. Evey second becomes endless, you loose the track of time, your circadian rhythm fucks up and take a long vacation therefore you start sleeping less and less everyday. It's hell. Total isolation is truly a living hell. I wouldn't wish it to my worst enemy.
I was tired. No, better, I was exhausted, still the prison guards didn't stop hitting me like a punching bag. They didn't stop even when I coughed a mouthful or two of blood, and I had the very frightening sensation they had broken a couple of ribs that had damaged my lungs. That day, I assure you, I thought I was going to die. Really, between the fear and the pain, I was shaking heavily.
Tied up in the center of the dark room, the chains held my arms above my head so I couldn't fall on the floor even if my legs couldn't hold me on anymore and I was barely managing to stand on my knees. I had lost every sensation to my left hand because my wrists had to support all my weight and the cuffs were very tight so there wasn't so much blood that managed to arrive to my fleshy hand. And there was a lot of blood on the walls and on the floor.
I was hanging like a rag doll while the soldiers did their job, and they did it incredibly well. I couldn't even blame them. Those were the orders and they had been created and raised to obey orders. Not to mention that it was a matter of life and death, because if the orders come straight from Darth Vader, you obey and shut up if you want to survive.
Even Clones love their life in the end.
I was trying to convince myself that they weren't doing it because they hated me when the soldier hit me with his knee on my right side. That Clone finished like that every time. It was over. My monthly torture session was over. I could go back in my cell.
One of the guards unlocked the cuffs and I fell on the floor miserably. I didn't even have the strength to wince in pain anymore, I didn't even try to slow down the fall. You know, one broken bone more, what could have mattered then? I managed to turn on my back before the guards got hold of my ankles and dragged me out of the room to get me back in my cell. I was barely conscious but I could hear the other prisoners cursing at our guards. It was the only way they could show some sympathy in my regards. After all, I was the one that was treated worse, at least they had their air hour and they could at least chat even though only through the bars of the cells. I was the one that was kept constantly isolated.
They left in my cell without too much care and they closed the door behind them, leaving me there, while trying to hold on consciousness as long as I could, I felt the Force starting to heal me.
I don't know how long I remained there, motionless, on the floor. Maybe an hour, maybe a day, I have no idea. I felt the wounds healing, broken bones re-knitting on their own will. It's not such a good sensation. Sometimes it's better having an open wound. The healing powers of the Force don't care too much about the pain. They just do it, there no anesthetic to help you. In its own distorted way, it was a good thing that after those seven years of hell I lost the ability to heal using the Force. Sometimes it's worse than traditional methods. I don't know why but the same moment I set foot outside that prison, I lost that ability and I had to turn to traditional methods (casts, sutures and sometimes long bacta baths) to heal my wounds. You know, the Force can bless you with extraordinary abilities but it can take them away in no time. That was the case.
I managed to sleep for a while and when I woke up, several hours later, I was still on my back in a pool of blood. I wasn't in great shape, I had to admit it to myself as I gingerly stood up. My left wrist hurt like hell but at least I could stand. It was a good sign. Rubbing my hurting wrist, I dragged myself to the sink and opened the water. I took off the shirt of the uniform and tried as best as I could to wash away the blood from my tortured skin. The cool sensation of the waster on my skin was a very welcomed feeling. It always made me feel a little better. I washed my face and tried to scrub away the dried blood from my hair and beard. I tried to get a sort of reflection from the metallic surface to check the result but no such luck, it was too dark to see clearly.
You might wonder why I did this instead of laying on the bed and sleep the next two days away. Well, it was because someone was coming to see me.
How could I now? I could feel him coming closer through the Force. I always felt Vader when he came. And I was sure he was coming for me. After all, I was the only prisoner in there, important enough to receive visitors. Therefore, I wanted to be at least presentable. I just hoped he wasn't coming to beat me up like the clones had just done, or I was a dead man. I felt really better after those hours of sleep but I wasn't up for another fight.
I felt him as he went through the threshold of the prison. His echo in the Force was so obtrusive that sometimes I could feel him when his transport jumped out of hyperspace.
It wasn't such a great prospective, if you think about it. I wasn't in shape to confront him, with or without my lightsaber, because if he was angry (and he was always angry when he came to visit me), he would surely try to hurt me one way or another. That certainty terrorized me.
It might sound strange, but it's true. I've spent half of my life in life-threatening situations and still one singe man scared my guts out. And he is the only one that gives me this effect, I assure you!
When I felt I was at least presentable I toweled myself dry and wore a clean prison uniform. The only comfort I was authorized to receive was plenty of uniforms to wear when I wanted. At least that...
Anyway, when I felt clean enough, I sat down on my bed and waited. I didn't have to wait long before he arrived. The heavy metallic door opened with a low hiss and on the door frame I could see his dark cloaked figure as he stepped in my cell and closed the door using the Force.
The metallic hiss of his breather filled the cramped room, echoing at every exhalation. In the dark, dimly lit room, I couldn't see him clearly but I could feel his feelings through the Force, and he wasn't definitely calm. He was rather irritated, to say the least.
I stayed there, staring in my best enemy's masked eyes for some seconds and I noticed he was clenching his fists convulsively as if trying to keep calm. He seemed more nervous than angry, at least from his body language. An angry Sith was the norm, a nervous one? That was a first.
"What do you want?" I asked as calm as I could seem.
He didn't say a word, but I knew that behind the lenses of his mask he was staring back at me.
"Come on, you're here! What do you want?"
"Shut up, Skywalker!" he roared. "I'm not in the mood!" he turned to the small window and looked outside, in the same time he put some distance between us, as if he was trying to keep me far away from him or keeping himself from beating me.
I sighed. "Sure, because I'm really happy to see you! I feel like a rancor had just run over me, and now you come here! Come on, ask me what you have to and let's end it here. Are you here to kill me?" I asked standing up and facing him.
"Shut up. Shut up for a moment!" he said again. I had made him angry. And not just a bit. It would have been better to act more carefully from that moment on, because the last time I had made him angry, well, the result was a place in the infirmary for a week and three days of mechanical ventilation. An experience I didn't want to replicate.
I stood there, silent and waited. Suddenly, he turned towards me and pushed me against the wall, using the Force.
Surprised, I stared at him for a moment then pushed him back on the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance as I could between us.
We stared daggers at each other before engaging a small battle made of Force pushes and pulls and everything. We managed to topple over the opponent quite a few times each while trying to mitigate or annul the moves of the other.
The only problem was the fact that I was dead tired while he seemed as fresh as if he had just woken up. That gave him a lot of advantage and at some point he managed to make me fall on the ground quite violently, leaving me stunned and in pain. Two of the newly mended ribs snapped again and I had to hold on tight not to loose consciousness again and I had hit the floor hard with the back of my head and that left me almost numb for more than a minute.
I lifted my spinning head and stared at him angrily. "What the heck do you want?" I asked, breathing heavily. I wanted to end it there or we would have killed each other at that rate.
He grabbed the collar of my uniform and tugged me up until I was standing. "Your help." then he let me go.
"What?" I shouted in disbelief. "And that's your way to convince me to help you? I knew you were crazy but I didn't know you were that crazy!" It felt like a paradox. I mean, he attacks me then asks for my help? And though it was a logical thing to do? I would have never helped him, not even to repair the actuator of his left arm that cracked like a broken branch every time he moved his hand. I could hear it was broken even above his loud breath.
"I probably am, but you are the only one that can give me the information I need!" he said, a bit calmer than before. "Even after so many years, maybe you can help me."
For a moment I though I had really lost my mind in there. For a second, his dark reddish visors became almost transparent and I could see his eyes, even in the darkness of that cell. He looked desperate under that freaking mask. Those were the eyes of a desperate man, not too different from mine.
Through the Force I felt something strange in him. I felt his rage, his continuous pain for the wounds he had suffered back on Mustafar and his life-support suit, I felt the Dark Side that encumbered his mind and ability to reason on his own and made him Sidious' slave, his pet. It blinded him, exactly like every other Jedi years before.
In that moment I realized that we were both rotting in two different and well distinct hells. I was suffering every possible pain in total isolation, far away from those I cared about, he was slowly being tore apart in both physical and spiritual pain, he was drowning in the Dark Side every day. We were more alike than what I had thought.
In that moment of silence between my sentence and my reply, I realized that I could be the one in the suit. I had realized that years before, I knew I was Sidious' ultimate aim, but having him in front of me, in those conditions, well, that was a totally different experience. For an instant, I had seen his defense lowered and I though about how I would have felt being trapped in there. Not good.
The noise coming from his mechanic limbs brought me back to reality.
"Alright, now I can even die happily. I've seen everything this Galaxy could show me. A Sith asking a Jedi's help. A Jedi everyone considers dead. You're crazy!" I raised my hands up above my head. After that, I could really die content. I had really seen everything.
"Don't pull too much the rope, Skywalker!" he replied. Even with his voice filtered by the vocal synthesizer I knew he was about to burst.
"Well, Aster, once you used to call me Anakin." I said back, angry. "Once we could consider ourselves friends. Once! Before you murdered all those people. Once I would have done everything for you, but now, you lost your chance. I don't care what you want or what you will do to me. You won't get anything out of me!"
I'm sure he smiled at that point, as he fished in his pocket and pulled out a leathery string with something shiny attached to it. "But you care about this, don't you?"
My wedding ring.
"Where the hell..." I couldn't finish my sentence. He pushed me against the wall again, this time slowly.
"I have all the authorizations to get access to your personal effects. And I still have some shots. I spent years trying to find something, anything, to corrupt you, one way or another. I thought my Master had already tried that way, but no. Or he tried and failed. That's weird. It's a great leverage to make you cross the line on our side."
I tried to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat and prevented me to breathe normally. Sidious knew about my marriage. Well, actually the whole Galaxy knew. Since Padmè was officially dead, and so was I, someone had spilled everything to the press and it got great coverage, during the first weeks of the Empire. I was sure it had been Sidious' work.
And now Vader landed there, in my cell, digging up old matters that had indeed made me step dangerously close to the Dark Side but hadn't managed to make me cross the line? I still couldn't see its logic, but I let him go on.
"Now listen. Your wife is dead, and I can't say I'm sorry for that, but I think you still care about this. In the end, this is one of the few material memories you have about her."
I nodded.
"Good. Now, you have to choose: either you help me and I give this back to you or I'll throw it out of a window of the Senate. What do you think?"
Great, now he really managed to piss me off. For good. I didn't give him the chance to brace himself, I threw him against the wall behind him. The beat and the surprise loosened his hold on the string and I managed to yank it away from his grasp, using the Force. It flew straight in my hand and for once the cool sensation of the metal on my skin didn't give me the creeps.
"What do you want?" I asked then.
"Sidious wants the access codes to the Temple mainframe. That's all."
As if I had them! I had been made a Master and I had been actually given the codes but when I was arrested I hadn't learned them by heart as I should have. I had saved them in a memory stick that I had hidden in the Council chamber but I really didn't remember them.
I lowered my gaze. "I don't have them." He was about to hit me again but I raised my hands defensively. "Wait a sec! I have a good reason! Those were 120-digit cryptographic keys, even Master Yoda would have needed time to memorize them. I didn't have the time, I'm sorry but I can't remember them after so much time!" of course I wouldn't have given them even knowing them perfectly, but he seemed satisfied with my reply.
Actually, he stood silent for endless moments. He seemed somehow upset by such a rational and valid reply. Probably he was expecting an implausible and as big as the Temple lie. Well, I had actually lied to him. Those where 240-digits keys, even worse.
Still, that long and awkward silence was filled with rage and resentment. "Good. Next question. I know you warned Kenobi before the Order 66 was given. Where did you tell him to hide?"
"He did everything by himself. I just told him to hide as good as he could. And even if I told you where I'd sent him, I truly doubt he would still be there after seven years. He's not stupid!"
"You're right. You've been a bit out of touch with the world, didn't you?" he teased me, as sarcastic as he could be.
I chuckled loudly, probably making the most idiotic grin of the Galaxy. "Very funny Vader! As if I need your fucked up humor now!"
"You know I love torturing you! It's the only thing I can do!" he fell silent for a second. "But let me tell you this: you can put an end to this. Even now. You just need to surrender and everything will be over. You're wasted in here. You could dominate the Galaxy if you join us. Together, we could kill Sidious and take his power!"
I turned towards the small window. "And be part of this massacre? No, thank you. I prefer die and rot in here than join you." I grinned, a bit amused. "You know, you're an idiot. Sidious is using you! He's been using you since you turned! You're his puppet, he keeps you on a leash like a dog, and I think that's a very short leash! You could have been a great Jedi, you had a great potential, and now look at yourself! You can't even breathe on your own!"
I had made him angry. No, better, furious. I heard a strange, smothered sound above his breather, probably it came straight from his tortured lungs and not from his voice synthesizer, as he launched towards me with all his might. I tried to push him back but he managed to throw me on the floor and I didn't even have the time to turn and parry his hits when I felt him kicking me exactly on my broken ribs. It was too much to hope he didn't hit the same places I had been beaten only hours before?
It felt like he was ripping me in two. You think you're used to pain after thirteen years of battles and wounds, but in that contest, no, there's no preparation that allows you to stand the pain a bit better than others.
He was beating me because he was angry though, and everyone that fights in anger sooner or later makes a mistake. And being that tall, his legs were easy preys. When he lifted his foot to hit me again, I managed to turn around and kick the leg that was now holding all his considerable weight. He fell and the crashing sound of his metallic limbs echoed in the room for long moments. It was almost deafening.
I managed to stand up a moment before him and I saw him lifting his right and and clench it around nothing, but I felt my throat constricted as if his fingers were around my neck.
Without thinking, I did the same but I acted on the tube that brought oxygen to his internal system. We were strangulating each other. It was a matter of seconds before we both fell unconscious on the floor. I was already desperately seeking air, I felt my lungs burn but his hold just got tighter.
"Stop it..." he said. "Or I swear I'll kill you!"
The rage I was experiencing in that moment told me to go on and don't care about my life, but my rational part kept telling me to give up and survive, that there would have been other chances to kill him.
"Go away then..." I managed to whisper.
We both released our holds. I fell on my knees, breathless and I tried to catch my breath.
Strange enough, he obeyed and left the room. He turned to the door and knocked loudly, until a soldier from the other side opened the door. But he didn't leave before speaking again. "Think about it. All of this could stop, it all depends on you."
I was still trying to breath normally but still I managed to reply properly. "Go away. And tell your Master that the only way to have me on your side is as a corpse."
Without a word, e stepped out of the cell and the door closed with a loud bang.
I sat on my bed and closed my eyes, hiding my face in my hands. It was too much. I couldn't take anymore of that situation. I had behaved, I had been a good kid for seven years, now it was time to do something, for Padmè and my son.
It was time to get out of there.
Rating: Teen+ for some mild curising and some very mild references to sex.
Charachters: Anakin Skywalker. Padmè Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, Darth Sidious (mentioned), Luke Skywalker, Leia Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Many OCs.
Timeline: Empire Era. Starts in the middle of Episode III, goes AU from there on, jumps seven years ahead.
Chapters are getting longer now. Gonna post them under the "Read More" tag.
Chapter 3 - He Swears He Will Return One Day
When you have nothing to do all day, time passes really slowly and that's common knowledge, it's a constant of everybody's life. But when you're laying on the filthy floor of your cell listening to your own blood oozing from your wounds that are slowly healing, time can pass even at a slower rate. Evey second becomes endless, you loose the track of time, your circadian rhythm fucks up and take a long vacation therefore you start sleeping less and less everyday. It's hell. Total isolation is truly a living hell. I wouldn't wish it to my worst enemy.
I was tired. No, better, I was exhausted, still the prison guards didn't stop hitting me like a punching bag. They didn't stop even when I coughed a mouthful or two of blood, and I had the very frightening sensation they had broken a couple of ribs that had damaged my lungs. That day, I assure you, I thought I was going to die. Really, between the fear and the pain, I was shaking heavily.
Tied up in the center of the dark room, the chains held my arms above my head so I couldn't fall on the floor even if my legs couldn't hold me on anymore and I was barely managing to stand on my knees. I had lost every sensation to my left hand because my wrists had to support all my weight and the cuffs were very tight so there wasn't so much blood that managed to arrive to my fleshy hand. And there was a lot of blood on the walls and on the floor.
I was hanging like a rag doll while the soldiers did their job, and they did it incredibly well. I couldn't even blame them. Those were the orders and they had been created and raised to obey orders. Not to mention that it was a matter of life and death, because if the orders come straight from Darth Vader, you obey and shut up if you want to survive.
Even Clones love their life in the end.
I was trying to convince myself that they weren't doing it because they hated me when the soldier hit me with his knee on my right side. That Clone finished like that every time. It was over. My monthly torture session was over. I could go back in my cell.
One of the guards unlocked the cuffs and I fell on the floor miserably. I didn't even have the strength to wince in pain anymore, I didn't even try to slow down the fall. You know, one broken bone more, what could have mattered then? I managed to turn on my back before the guards got hold of my ankles and dragged me out of the room to get me back in my cell. I was barely conscious but I could hear the other prisoners cursing at our guards. It was the only way they could show some sympathy in my regards. After all, I was the one that was treated worse, at least they had their air hour and they could at least chat even though only through the bars of the cells. I was the one that was kept constantly isolated.
They left in my cell without too much care and they closed the door behind them, leaving me there, while trying to hold on consciousness as long as I could, I felt the Force starting to heal me.
I don't know how long I remained there, motionless, on the floor. Maybe an hour, maybe a day, I have no idea. I felt the wounds healing, broken bones re-knitting on their own will. It's not such a good sensation. Sometimes it's better having an open wound. The healing powers of the Force don't care too much about the pain. They just do it, there no anesthetic to help you. In its own distorted way, it was a good thing that after those seven years of hell I lost the ability to heal using the Force. Sometimes it's worse than traditional methods. I don't know why but the same moment I set foot outside that prison, I lost that ability and I had to turn to traditional methods (casts, sutures and sometimes long bacta baths) to heal my wounds. You know, the Force can bless you with extraordinary abilities but it can take them away in no time. That was the case.
I managed to sleep for a while and when I woke up, several hours later, I was still on my back in a pool of blood. I wasn't in great shape, I had to admit it to myself as I gingerly stood up. My left wrist hurt like hell but at least I could stand. It was a good sign. Rubbing my hurting wrist, I dragged myself to the sink and opened the water. I took off the shirt of the uniform and tried as best as I could to wash away the blood from my tortured skin. The cool sensation of the waster on my skin was a very welcomed feeling. It always made me feel a little better. I washed my face and tried to scrub away the dried blood from my hair and beard. I tried to get a sort of reflection from the metallic surface to check the result but no such luck, it was too dark to see clearly.
You might wonder why I did this instead of laying on the bed and sleep the next two days away. Well, it was because someone was coming to see me.
How could I now? I could feel him coming closer through the Force. I always felt Vader when he came. And I was sure he was coming for me. After all, I was the only prisoner in there, important enough to receive visitors. Therefore, I wanted to be at least presentable. I just hoped he wasn't coming to beat me up like the clones had just done, or I was a dead man. I felt really better after those hours of sleep but I wasn't up for another fight.
I felt him as he went through the threshold of the prison. His echo in the Force was so obtrusive that sometimes I could feel him when his transport jumped out of hyperspace.
It wasn't such a great prospective, if you think about it. I wasn't in shape to confront him, with or without my lightsaber, because if he was angry (and he was always angry when he came to visit me), he would surely try to hurt me one way or another. That certainty terrorized me.
It might sound strange, but it's true. I've spent half of my life in life-threatening situations and still one singe man scared my guts out. And he is the only one that gives me this effect, I assure you!
When I felt I was at least presentable I toweled myself dry and wore a clean prison uniform. The only comfort I was authorized to receive was plenty of uniforms to wear when I wanted. At least that...
Anyway, when I felt clean enough, I sat down on my bed and waited. I didn't have to wait long before he arrived. The heavy metallic door opened with a low hiss and on the door frame I could see his dark cloaked figure as he stepped in my cell and closed the door using the Force.
The metallic hiss of his breather filled the cramped room, echoing at every exhalation. In the dark, dimly lit room, I couldn't see him clearly but I could feel his feelings through the Force, and he wasn't definitely calm. He was rather irritated, to say the least.
I stayed there, staring in my best enemy's masked eyes for some seconds and I noticed he was clenching his fists convulsively as if trying to keep calm. He seemed more nervous than angry, at least from his body language. An angry Sith was the norm, a nervous one? That was a first.
"What do you want?" I asked as calm as I could seem.
He didn't say a word, but I knew that behind the lenses of his mask he was staring back at me.
"Come on, you're here! What do you want?"
"Shut up, Skywalker!" he roared. "I'm not in the mood!" he turned to the small window and looked outside, in the same time he put some distance between us, as if he was trying to keep me far away from him or keeping himself from beating me.
I sighed. "Sure, because I'm really happy to see you! I feel like a rancor had just run over me, and now you come here! Come on, ask me what you have to and let's end it here. Are you here to kill me?" I asked standing up and facing him.
"Shut up. Shut up for a moment!" he said again. I had made him angry. And not just a bit. It would have been better to act more carefully from that moment on, because the last time I had made him angry, well, the result was a place in the infirmary for a week and three days of mechanical ventilation. An experience I didn't want to replicate.
I stood there, silent and waited. Suddenly, he turned towards me and pushed me against the wall, using the Force.
Surprised, I stared at him for a moment then pushed him back on the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance as I could between us.
We stared daggers at each other before engaging a small battle made of Force pushes and pulls and everything. We managed to topple over the opponent quite a few times each while trying to mitigate or annul the moves of the other.
The only problem was the fact that I was dead tired while he seemed as fresh as if he had just woken up. That gave him a lot of advantage and at some point he managed to make me fall on the ground quite violently, leaving me stunned and in pain. Two of the newly mended ribs snapped again and I had to hold on tight not to loose consciousness again and I had hit the floor hard with the back of my head and that left me almost numb for more than a minute.
I lifted my spinning head and stared at him angrily. "What the heck do you want?" I asked, breathing heavily. I wanted to end it there or we would have killed each other at that rate.
He grabbed the collar of my uniform and tugged me up until I was standing. "Your help." then he let me go.
"What?" I shouted in disbelief. "And that's your way to convince me to help you? I knew you were crazy but I didn't know you were that crazy!" It felt like a paradox. I mean, he attacks me then asks for my help? And though it was a logical thing to do? I would have never helped him, not even to repair the actuator of his left arm that cracked like a broken branch every time he moved his hand. I could hear it was broken even above his loud breath.
"I probably am, but you are the only one that can give me the information I need!" he said, a bit calmer than before. "Even after so many years, maybe you can help me."
For a moment I though I had really lost my mind in there. For a second, his dark reddish visors became almost transparent and I could see his eyes, even in the darkness of that cell. He looked desperate under that freaking mask. Those were the eyes of a desperate man, not too different from mine.
Through the Force I felt something strange in him. I felt his rage, his continuous pain for the wounds he had suffered back on Mustafar and his life-support suit, I felt the Dark Side that encumbered his mind and ability to reason on his own and made him Sidious' slave, his pet. It blinded him, exactly like every other Jedi years before.
In that moment I realized that we were both rotting in two different and well distinct hells. I was suffering every possible pain in total isolation, far away from those I cared about, he was slowly being tore apart in both physical and spiritual pain, he was drowning in the Dark Side every day. We were more alike than what I had thought.
In that moment of silence between my sentence and my reply, I realized that I could be the one in the suit. I had realized that years before, I knew I was Sidious' ultimate aim, but having him in front of me, in those conditions, well, that was a totally different experience. For an instant, I had seen his defense lowered and I though about how I would have felt being trapped in there. Not good.
The noise coming from his mechanic limbs brought me back to reality.
"Alright, now I can even die happily. I've seen everything this Galaxy could show me. A Sith asking a Jedi's help. A Jedi everyone considers dead. You're crazy!" I raised my hands up above my head. After that, I could really die content. I had really seen everything.
"Don't pull too much the rope, Skywalker!" he replied. Even with his voice filtered by the vocal synthesizer I knew he was about to burst.
"Well, Aster, once you used to call me Anakin." I said back, angry. "Once we could consider ourselves friends. Once! Before you murdered all those people. Once I would have done everything for you, but now, you lost your chance. I don't care what you want or what you will do to me. You won't get anything out of me!"
I'm sure he smiled at that point, as he fished in his pocket and pulled out a leathery string with something shiny attached to it. "But you care about this, don't you?"
My wedding ring.
"Where the hell..." I couldn't finish my sentence. He pushed me against the wall again, this time slowly.
"I have all the authorizations to get access to your personal effects. And I still have some shots. I spent years trying to find something, anything, to corrupt you, one way or another. I thought my Master had already tried that way, but no. Or he tried and failed. That's weird. It's a great leverage to make you cross the line on our side."
I tried to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat and prevented me to breathe normally. Sidious knew about my marriage. Well, actually the whole Galaxy knew. Since Padmè was officially dead, and so was I, someone had spilled everything to the press and it got great coverage, during the first weeks of the Empire. I was sure it had been Sidious' work.
And now Vader landed there, in my cell, digging up old matters that had indeed made me step dangerously close to the Dark Side but hadn't managed to make me cross the line? I still couldn't see its logic, but I let him go on.
"Now listen. Your wife is dead, and I can't say I'm sorry for that, but I think you still care about this. In the end, this is one of the few material memories you have about her."
I nodded.
"Good. Now, you have to choose: either you help me and I give this back to you or I'll throw it out of a window of the Senate. What do you think?"
Great, now he really managed to piss me off. For good. I didn't give him the chance to brace himself, I threw him against the wall behind him. The beat and the surprise loosened his hold on the string and I managed to yank it away from his grasp, using the Force. It flew straight in my hand and for once the cool sensation of the metal on my skin didn't give me the creeps.
"What do you want?" I asked then.
"Sidious wants the access codes to the Temple mainframe. That's all."
As if I had them! I had been made a Master and I had been actually given the codes but when I was arrested I hadn't learned them by heart as I should have. I had saved them in a memory stick that I had hidden in the Council chamber but I really didn't remember them.
I lowered my gaze. "I don't have them." He was about to hit me again but I raised my hands defensively. "Wait a sec! I have a good reason! Those were 120-digit cryptographic keys, even Master Yoda would have needed time to memorize them. I didn't have the time, I'm sorry but I can't remember them after so much time!" of course I wouldn't have given them even knowing them perfectly, but he seemed satisfied with my reply.
Actually, he stood silent for endless moments. He seemed somehow upset by such a rational and valid reply. Probably he was expecting an implausible and as big as the Temple lie. Well, I had actually lied to him. Those where 240-digits keys, even worse.
Still, that long and awkward silence was filled with rage and resentment. "Good. Next question. I know you warned Kenobi before the Order 66 was given. Where did you tell him to hide?"
"He did everything by himself. I just told him to hide as good as he could. And even if I told you where I'd sent him, I truly doubt he would still be there after seven years. He's not stupid!"
"You're right. You've been a bit out of touch with the world, didn't you?" he teased me, as sarcastic as he could be.
I chuckled loudly, probably making the most idiotic grin of the Galaxy. "Very funny Vader! As if I need your fucked up humor now!"
"You know I love torturing you! It's the only thing I can do!" he fell silent for a second. "But let me tell you this: you can put an end to this. Even now. You just need to surrender and everything will be over. You're wasted in here. You could dominate the Galaxy if you join us. Together, we could kill Sidious and take his power!"
I turned towards the small window. "And be part of this massacre? No, thank you. I prefer die and rot in here than join you." I grinned, a bit amused. "You know, you're an idiot. Sidious is using you! He's been using you since you turned! You're his puppet, he keeps you on a leash like a dog, and I think that's a very short leash! You could have been a great Jedi, you had a great potential, and now look at yourself! You can't even breathe on your own!"
I had made him angry. No, better, furious. I heard a strange, smothered sound above his breather, probably it came straight from his tortured lungs and not from his voice synthesizer, as he launched towards me with all his might. I tried to push him back but he managed to throw me on the floor and I didn't even have the time to turn and parry his hits when I felt him kicking me exactly on my broken ribs. It was too much to hope he didn't hit the same places I had been beaten only hours before?
It felt like he was ripping me in two. You think you're used to pain after thirteen years of battles and wounds, but in that contest, no, there's no preparation that allows you to stand the pain a bit better than others.
He was beating me because he was angry though, and everyone that fights in anger sooner or later makes a mistake. And being that tall, his legs were easy preys. When he lifted his foot to hit me again, I managed to turn around and kick the leg that was now holding all his considerable weight. He fell and the crashing sound of his metallic limbs echoed in the room for long moments. It was almost deafening.
I managed to stand up a moment before him and I saw him lifting his right and and clench it around nothing, but I felt my throat constricted as if his fingers were around my neck.
Without thinking, I did the same but I acted on the tube that brought oxygen to his internal system. We were strangulating each other. It was a matter of seconds before we both fell unconscious on the floor. I was already desperately seeking air, I felt my lungs burn but his hold just got tighter.
"Stop it..." he said. "Or I swear I'll kill you!"
The rage I was experiencing in that moment told me to go on and don't care about my life, but my rational part kept telling me to give up and survive, that there would have been other chances to kill him.
"Go away then..." I managed to whisper.
We both released our holds. I fell on my knees, breathless and I tried to catch my breath.
Strange enough, he obeyed and left the room. He turned to the door and knocked loudly, until a soldier from the other side opened the door. But he didn't leave before speaking again. "Think about it. All of this could stop, it all depends on you."
I was still trying to breath normally but still I managed to reply properly. "Go away. And tell your Master that the only way to have me on your side is as a corpse."
Without a word, e stepped out of the cell and the door closed with a loud bang.
I sat on my bed and closed my eyes, hiding my face in my hands. It was too much. I couldn't take anymore of that situation. I had behaved, I had been a good kid for seven years, now it was time to do something, for Padmè and my son.
It was time to get out of there.