Order 66 ~ Obi-Wan X OC

The Only Thing Left of Padme

A rough hand pushed me harshly into a dark seat in a dark room on the dark ship. Vader stood proudly in front of me.

"Let's talk shall we?" He asks.

"Yes, let's," Sarcasm dripped off my tongue. 

He took a seat close next to me. "Oh, don't worry, I won't kill you," He tells me with fake sympathy. But somehow, I knew he wasn't lying. And that was so much worse. "You'll stay alive and well." He stands up and begins to pace around the empty room. "You know, you are the only thing I have left of Padme." So he does believe his child didn't make it.

"Oh?" I ask.

He nods stiffly. Wait how the hell did he survive? He lost both his legs, how is he standing?

"You and Padme were close friends. She talked very highly of you. So, I began looking for you so I could remember her."

"How the hell would kidnapping me make you remember her."

"Because," He snaps as if I was shaming his idea. I was, but still. "You will tell me about her." I furrow my brows in confusion. "You will stay in a nice chamber on whatever ship I am on and whenever I ask, you will tell me stories."

I scoff out a laugh. "You want me to be your bedtime storyteller?" He turns around angrily. "This doesn't seem fair. What do I get out of this?"

"A nice-"

"Don't say a nice chamber."

He laughs creepily. "The other option is I let you go and then I kill Obi-Wan." Every emotion on my face drops quickly, replaced by fear. "Let's talk about Kenobi, shall we?" I look at him blankly as he gets close to me before dropping his voice to a deadly whisper. "If you send any kind of transmission, any kind of signal, any secret letter to Obi-Wan, he will be hunted down and killed. And it will have been your fault. If I'm not allowed to be with Padme, Obi-Wan is not allowed to be with you."

"How do you know about-"

"I saw the secret looks. I saw the way the Chancellor's attachment comment made you angry. It didn't take a Jedi Master to figure it out," He said mockingly. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "He broke the rules just as I did. Why didn't he suffer the way I did?"

The anger arose again. "He didn't break the rules. You disregarded every rule in the code, he honored it. He refused to admit anything to me until we were about to die."

He doesn't respond to that. "Follow me to your chambers, old friend." I shuddered at the name. I stood up, quickly realizing that this Vader was stronger and angrier than ever.

The small ship must have landed on the larger main ship. We walked together down the busy halls filled with what Vader called Storm Troopers. They all saluted the masked man as he walked by and the stares lingered on me for an uncomfortably long time. 

We entered a hall that was eerily empty. The walls were painted bright white, unlike the rest of the ship. There was only one door in the entire hall. A stormtrooper in a fancier uniform was posted out in front of it. He stepped to the side professionally as we walked up. 

"I'll take these," Vader says, taking my two sabers, handing them to the stormtrooper. I go to interject but I realize that was a bad idea again. "And this," He practically rips Mace's robe away from me, slinging the brown fabric over his shoulder. "And this." He snatches my right hand. My eyes widen as he begins to pull off the silver ring. 

"No, NO!" I cry, trying to rip my hand away. But it's too late. He clutches the ring in a tight fist before shoving me through the open door. I trip on my feet, making me stumble and fall. I quickly get up but the door with a square window in shuts in front of me. Right before I use the force to open it, a blue glow surrounds the door. It prevents me from using the force through the door or in the room at all. 

"You're mine now, Florence," Vader says before marching away. The decorated Storm Trooper takes his place right in front of the door. I'm not sure why Vader handing him my sabers but I'm guessing if I ever escape, he'll use them on me.

I step back and look around the room. It is nice. There was a large bed with many pillows and blankets in the corner as well as a circular window that looked out at the passing stars. 

A dresser with clothes that fit me perfectly was on the far side of the room next to a hanging light that cast a warm glow through the room. A vanity with hairbrushes and hair ties was on the opposite wall of the dresser. A brown carpet circled the cold floor. There was a small bathroom at the side of the room. But it didn't matter. This was a prison. 

A mirror hung below the light and my reflection stared back at me. My hair was a mess, my green eyes looked grey, and my clothes were tattered and worn. 

Obi-Wan was right. What is he going to think? I crumpled to the ground. He's going to hate me. I shouldn't have gone. That's when I looked at the trooper in front of the door.

I got up from the floor and walked over to the door, sliding my back down the door until I hit the floor again.

"Hey, sir," I say loudly. That's when I just start ranting to this trooper. I tell him almost everything, except for information about where Obi-Wan was or where we were. I was vague in a non-vague way. I don't know if he can hear me but saying everything allowed made me feel better.

That's how my schedule for every long day started. I would sleep for obnoxiously long times because being asleep was better than being awake, even if the nightmares haunted me. Then, I would get up and get dressed and make myself look presentable for no one but myself. 

Eventually, I snapped off two posts of my bed, leaving wooden stumps in jagged pieces. I took the rest of the posts and used them as lightsabers, refusing to forget my training. After training, I talked to the stormtrooper about my day and my nightmares.

By night, Vader would come in and bring me food. Sometimes he would stay and make me tell him about Padme, other's he would leave as quickly as he came. 

Through the months, I'd run out of stories about Padme so I began making them up. Sometimes they'd be crazy, making me laugh. 

Months ticked by painfully. Then years, then I stopped asking Vader how long I'd been here. Eventually, I gave up on the idea of escape. And every night I'd dream of Obi-Wan at least once. I wonder if he did the same.