More hurt_comfort bingo! :D
Because I need this, badly:
Title: Freefall In the Dark.
Prompt: Orphans.
Summary: All of the Rebellion are orphans in their own ways.
Warnings: Angst, possibly triggering content, and rusty writing skills.
Anakin had always expected somehow that he'd have to meet Vader once again. Han had said much on Dagobah, after Yoda's death -- it didn't help that Vader
the destroyer of both his families, the destroyer of lives
and he seemed to have an uncanny talent of meeting up wherever he went. Wherever he seemed to go, Vader was waiting. Vader was always waiting. It never seemed to end. Mimban, Hoth, Bespin...and now Kashyyyk. It seemed, somehow, that he'd have no choice but to face Vader alone.
"Every moment you keep Anakin Skywalker from me more people will die."
And Vader was never one to bluff. For all Vader's many, many faults, Anakin doubted that "bluffing" would be on the list.
"Anakin, where are you going?"
Padme. Of course.
"I'm turning myself in. For all our sakes."
"But Vader will -- "
Silence.
"I know. Take care of Ahsoka and the others. I have to go finish this."
"Anakin -- "
But somehow, before Padme could even begin to finish her sentence, he ran.
And ran.
And ran forever.
He wasn't in this for glory. He doubted it would even work
even Han didn't survive his encounter with Vader
but he at least hoped he could give the others a chance.
For everyone's sake.
***
The day that Naboo was destroyed was a defining moment for Padme Naberrie Amidala. She had a feeling that something like this would happen -- as Vader had so kindly put it to her, Rebels didn't do well behind stone walls. They'd never be able to be safe, to know peace of mind while the Empire still reigned. Because they weren't giving up. Not in this millennia -- but she'd never expected the Empire to actually destroy a planet full of innocent people. Ryoo...Pooja...
And so she'd huddled in her cell, trying to endure the torture by thinking of Mon Mothma and the others -- people who depended on her. People who needed her badly. But even then, it didn't help; even after Anakin had made his way in and rescued her
in between Obi-Wan and Anakin's bickering and Jar-Jar's panicking, there was something about it -- something so...perversely innocent about the rescue that made it almost charming
even after the Death Star had been destroyed, some place in Padme Naberrie remained unhealed. While she tried to be the typical Padme Naberrie -- cold, commanding, in control -- some place in her was still back in that Death Star detention cell with Vader's hands on her and his rich voice hissing in her ear.
If there was something that she and Anakin could bond over, it was the fact in a way, they were both orphans. She had come from a planet that had been destroyed by the Empire to "make a point"
but what point was there to make?
he had come from a home that was ruthlessly destroyed to find the Death Star plans -- plans that, if the Empire had reclaimed them, would have spelled out destruction and doom for the entire galaxy. Other systems would have suffered the fate of Naboo -- the fact they didn't was cold comfort, to say the least.
It helped that Anakin was good company at the very least. Surprisingly resilient for his age -- she supposed Tatooine would do it to you, but even then...
So it was after another nightmare about Naboo going up in flames that they sat by the fire -- smiling, laughing, joking, as he told her stories about podracing through Beggar's Canyon
much to the annoyance of the adults and the utter terror of Cliegg and Shmi
and showed her things he'd been able to recover from the fire. Japor snippets. Kid drawings. Even droid parts.
"I doubt they'll work anymore," Anakin said. "But I'll try."
Something about him captivated her in a way nothing else had. The best Padme could do was bury herself in her duties, anything to help avoid this dangerously seductive Jedi -- this "new hope". But she doubted it would be easy. Far from it.
***
Obi-Wan's home wasn't destroyed. Not quite, really. But even then, being at home on Stewjon again, it couldn't have felt more unreal -- like something out of a half-remembered dream. Even talking with Owen and the others about what had happened, laughing with Anakin and Padme
the boy was delightfully amusing, at the very least
there was another part of him that was still out on the Outer Rim, helping Generals Solo and Skywalker fight the Yuuzhan Vong. Even listening to old Stewjonian carols, watching Padme sing
even now, Anakin was watching her with a sort of reverence in his eyes. he had to be careful. it was an easy pathway to hardship and anguish. even thinking about Siri --
and Obi-Wan had to remind himself to keep breathing.
part of him was still stuck in that horrible day hearing the screams of slaughtered Jedi filtering through his comlink. "Master Skywalker, there's too many of them -- "
He hadn't told Han. He couldn't properly articulate what he'd seen. If I had, would --
Perhaps it wouldn't change a thing. Perhaps the Empire would have proceeded on anyway.
And yet, somehow, Obi-Wan didn't want to believe it. It couldn't possibly end that way --
***
He'd mostly escaped Lumiya's scrutiny through sheer luck. He'd always been good at that -- deception, concealment. Yun-Lingni, the Vong had called him, and though he had rejected the title at first, over time, he couldn't imagine being separated from it. Master Skywalker had become known as Yun-Yammka, the Slayer, one of the most powerful Jedi of all time -- and one of the most powerful Sith as well, Palpatine couldn't help but muse. There was something of it in his son as well -- and perhaps it was there that he erred. For all of Anakin's many faults, he was humble -- far too humble for his own good. Always giving credit to where it was due, never praising himself or his accomplishments -- if anything, he seemed to regard himself as far too unworthy for his own good. Amazing, really.
Throughout the war, Palpatine had been going through Yuuzhan Vong history, trying to decipher their customs and their religions -- perhaps he'd gone too far into it, for the echoes of the Vong's history were still strong in his memory.
He still remembered Master Yoda's words ("to a dangerous place this line of thought could lead us") and yet he'd rebuffed them. Was there truly any other choice? It was adapt or perish -- and yet the Order had perished. He could still remember the unpleasant sting of shock and betrayal and hatred as he'd seen Luke Skywalker kneel before Lady Lumiya and all but proudly proclaim himself as the slayer of all.
Anakin was perhaps Palpatine's only joy. For all Padme and Obi-Wan and the others were...enjoyable to be around, perhaps, it was Anakin who had his heart and his protection. For Master Skywalker's sake. For all of us.
For what could have been.
***
"Don't be afraid."
Even seeing Anakin's face, Daala already wished she could find a way to erase what Anakin had seen. If there was a Force, or a just deity in this galaxy, she also wished in a way that it could undo what had happened. What Vader had done...there was no logic or reason behind it. If anything, he only wanted to destroy things. And if Palpatine's words were to be believed
although she could never quite understand the Jedi, the more she learned, the more she began to resent them
if Vader was not stopped, he could possibly devour the sun itself. He was a black hole in the Force, Palpatine had said once -- devouring without giving back, an entity of destruction and lust and light. All the things Jedi were apparently taught to avoid.
And Anakin...Anakin now knew the full weight of it.
"I'm sorry," Daala said, placing a hand gently on Anakin's shoulder. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
But even that couldn't sum up what Vader had done. She doubted anything ever could.
***
Vestara hadn't expected anything even remotely...comfortable when she'd fled the Empire
Vader had repeatedly drilled into her head that out there, the galaxy was a cold, cruel place. "You know I'm your only true defender, child."
but she'd never expected something like what she saw. Friendships with Ahsoka. A brother she'd never known. Vader, her protector, her tormentor, being her father. Her true father. Her foster parents' culture being all but wiped from her
the Empire had never been one for diversity, if its treatment of aliens was to be believed.
And yet somehow...somehow it had given her more hope than she'd ever dreamed of. Under Vader and Lumiya's rule, she had been unhappy -- crushed into a life she'd never wanted. But here -- here she was free. Free to think what she would, say what she would, become what she was born to be -- not what Vader had carved out for her.
For all the hardships that the Rebellion faced, there was hope -- always hope. From the moment that the Death Star plans had landed by chance on Tatooine, Vestara supposed, they'd gotten their first ray of hope.
She didn't know what the future held
from what she'd heard from Anakin, the future was always difficult to see
but whatever tomorrow wrought, she'd be there. They'd be there.
And somehow, no matter what, they'd emerge victorious.
Title: Freefall In the Dark.
Prompt: Orphans.
Summary: All of the Rebellion are orphans in their own ways.
Warnings: Angst, possibly triggering content, and rusty writing skills.
Anakin had always expected somehow that he'd have to meet Vader once again. Han had said much on Dagobah, after Yoda's death -- it didn't help that Vader
the destroyer of both his families, the destroyer of lives
and he seemed to have an uncanny talent of meeting up wherever he went. Wherever he seemed to go, Vader was waiting. Vader was always waiting. It never seemed to end. Mimban, Hoth, Bespin...and now Kashyyyk. It seemed, somehow, that he'd have no choice but to face Vader alone.
"Every moment you keep Anakin Skywalker from me more people will die."
And Vader was never one to bluff. For all Vader's many, many faults, Anakin doubted that "bluffing" would be on the list.
"Anakin, where are you going?"
Padme. Of course.
"I'm turning myself in. For all our sakes."
"But Vader will -- "
Silence.
"I know. Take care of Ahsoka and the others. I have to go finish this."
"Anakin -- "
But somehow, before Padme could even begin to finish her sentence, he ran.
And ran.
And ran forever.
He wasn't in this for glory. He doubted it would even work
even Han didn't survive his encounter with Vader
but he at least hoped he could give the others a chance.
For everyone's sake.
***
The day that Naboo was destroyed was a defining moment for Padme Naberrie Amidala. She had a feeling that something like this would happen -- as Vader had so kindly put it to her, Rebels didn't do well behind stone walls. They'd never be able to be safe, to know peace of mind while the Empire still reigned. Because they weren't giving up. Not in this millennia -- but she'd never expected the Empire to actually destroy a planet full of innocent people. Ryoo...Pooja...
And so she'd huddled in her cell, trying to endure the torture by thinking of Mon Mothma and the others -- people who depended on her. People who needed her badly. But even then, it didn't help; even after Anakin had made his way in and rescued her
in between Obi-Wan and Anakin's bickering and Jar-Jar's panicking, there was something about it -- something so...perversely innocent about the rescue that made it almost charming
even after the Death Star had been destroyed, some place in Padme Naberrie remained unhealed. While she tried to be the typical Padme Naberrie -- cold, commanding, in control -- some place in her was still back in that Death Star detention cell with Vader's hands on her and his rich voice hissing in her ear.
If there was something that she and Anakin could bond over, it was the fact in a way, they were both orphans. She had come from a planet that had been destroyed by the Empire to "make a point"
but what point was there to make?
he had come from a home that was ruthlessly destroyed to find the Death Star plans -- plans that, if the Empire had reclaimed them, would have spelled out destruction and doom for the entire galaxy. Other systems would have suffered the fate of Naboo -- the fact they didn't was cold comfort, to say the least.
It helped that Anakin was good company at the very least. Surprisingly resilient for his age -- she supposed Tatooine would do it to you, but even then...
So it was after another nightmare about Naboo going up in flames that they sat by the fire -- smiling, laughing, joking, as he told her stories about podracing through Beggar's Canyon
much to the annoyance of the adults and the utter terror of Cliegg and Shmi
and showed her things he'd been able to recover from the fire. Japor snippets. Kid drawings. Even droid parts.
"I doubt they'll work anymore," Anakin said. "But I'll try."
Something about him captivated her in a way nothing else had. The best Padme could do was bury herself in her duties, anything to help avoid this dangerously seductive Jedi -- this "new hope". But she doubted it would be easy. Far from it.
***
Obi-Wan's home wasn't destroyed. Not quite, really. But even then, being at home on Stewjon again, it couldn't have felt more unreal -- like something out of a half-remembered dream. Even talking with Owen and the others about what had happened, laughing with Anakin and Padme
the boy was delightfully amusing, at the very least
there was another part of him that was still out on the Outer Rim, helping Generals Solo and Skywalker fight the Yuuzhan Vong. Even listening to old Stewjonian carols, watching Padme sing
even now, Anakin was watching her with a sort of reverence in his eyes. he had to be careful. it was an easy pathway to hardship and anguish. even thinking about Siri --
and Obi-Wan had to remind himself to keep breathing.
part of him was still stuck in that horrible day hearing the screams of slaughtered Jedi filtering through his comlink. "Master Skywalker, there's too many of them -- "
He hadn't told Han. He couldn't properly articulate what he'd seen. If I had, would --
Perhaps it wouldn't change a thing. Perhaps the Empire would have proceeded on anyway.
And yet, somehow, Obi-Wan didn't want to believe it. It couldn't possibly end that way --
***
He'd mostly escaped Lumiya's scrutiny through sheer luck. He'd always been good at that -- deception, concealment. Yun-Lingni, the Vong had called him, and though he had rejected the title at first, over time, he couldn't imagine being separated from it. Master Skywalker had become known as Yun-Yammka, the Slayer, one of the most powerful Jedi of all time -- and one of the most powerful Sith as well, Palpatine couldn't help but muse. There was something of it in his son as well -- and perhaps it was there that he erred. For all of Anakin's many faults, he was humble -- far too humble for his own good. Always giving credit to where it was due, never praising himself or his accomplishments -- if anything, he seemed to regard himself as far too unworthy for his own good. Amazing, really.
Throughout the war, Palpatine had been going through Yuuzhan Vong history, trying to decipher their customs and their religions -- perhaps he'd gone too far into it, for the echoes of the Vong's history were still strong in his memory.
He still remembered Master Yoda's words ("to a dangerous place this line of thought could lead us") and yet he'd rebuffed them. Was there truly any other choice? It was adapt or perish -- and yet the Order had perished. He could still remember the unpleasant sting of shock and betrayal and hatred as he'd seen Luke Skywalker kneel before Lady Lumiya and all but proudly proclaim himself as the slayer of all.
Anakin was perhaps Palpatine's only joy. For all Padme and Obi-Wan and the others were...enjoyable to be around, perhaps, it was Anakin who had his heart and his protection. For Master Skywalker's sake. For all of us.
For what could have been.
***
"Don't be afraid."
Even seeing Anakin's face, Daala already wished she could find a way to erase what Anakin had seen. If there was a Force, or a just deity in this galaxy, she also wished in a way that it could undo what had happened. What Vader had done...there was no logic or reason behind it. If anything, he only wanted to destroy things. And if Palpatine's words were to be believed
although she could never quite understand the Jedi, the more she learned, the more she began to resent them
if Vader was not stopped, he could possibly devour the sun itself. He was a black hole in the Force, Palpatine had said once -- devouring without giving back, an entity of destruction and lust and light. All the things Jedi were apparently taught to avoid.
And Anakin...Anakin now knew the full weight of it.
"I'm sorry," Daala said, placing a hand gently on Anakin's shoulder. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
But even that couldn't sum up what Vader had done. She doubted anything ever could.
***
Vestara hadn't expected anything even remotely...comfortable when she'd fled the Empire
Vader had repeatedly drilled into her head that out there, the galaxy was a cold, cruel place. "You know I'm your only true defender, child."
but she'd never expected something like what she saw. Friendships with Ahsoka. A brother she'd never known. Vader, her protector, her tormentor, being her father. Her true father. Her foster parents' culture being all but wiped from her
the Empire had never been one for diversity, if its treatment of aliens was to be believed.
And yet somehow...somehow it had given her more hope than she'd ever dreamed of. Under Vader and Lumiya's rule, she had been unhappy -- crushed into a life she'd never wanted. But here -- here she was free. Free to think what she would, say what she would, become what she was born to be -- not what Vader had carved out for her.
For all the hardships that the Rebellion faced, there was hope -- always hope. From the moment that the Death Star plans had landed by chance on Tatooine, Vestara supposed, they'd gotten their first ray of hope.
She didn't know what the future held
from what she'd heard from Anakin, the future was always difficult to see
but whatever tomorrow wrought, she'd be there. They'd be there.
And somehow, no matter what, they'd emerge victorious.