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MUSTAFAR, OUTER RIM
'I can feel your anger.'
'Apologies, master.'
'What troubles you?'
She looks toward him, he stands beside her. It's not Vader. She can't feel his hatred or his rage. All she can feel is his longing and guilt. Two emotions she knows belong to Anakin Skywalker.
'It's nothing.'
His helmet crinkles as he makes a noise of consideration. 'When you fought Kenobi, what did he say?'
She sighs thinking back to the short fight she shared with the old Jedi. She can picture his confusion as he saw the necklace clearly. She remembers the name he'd called her.
Satine.
She'd searched the databases for the name. The only thing she had found was some old politician from Mandalore born years before her.
'He called me Satine.'
He looks down at her, she knows he's assessing her. She hates it when he does that. When he's silent.
'Who is Satine?'
'I don't know.'
She purses her lips, chews the corner a little until it stings and then it hurts when she opens her mouth to talk. 'Is Obi-Wan my father?'
He remains silent, and she steps closer to him.
It doesn't make sense. Yet the pieces fall into place quicker than she'd like them to. The Third Sister's hatred for her, stemming from nowhere but the rage she holds towards Obi-Wan. Their similar looks. Her abilities with the force. She has no name. Just General Bela, a name given to her by Vader himself. Perhaps to rid himself of the memories of her father. The man who was like a father to him once, a long time ago.
'Anakin-'
Her hands fly to her throat, holding onto the skin as he lifts her into the air, 'Anakin is dead.'
'I'm sorry-'
He drops her and she falls to her hands and knees coughing as she regains her breath. 'Master.'
He stares down at her, she leans forward, curling up in a ball. 'You're my daughter. My apprentice. Mine.' With that he turns and begins to head out of the room, 'I want you to fly to Nur.'
He leaves, and she stares after him with a hand rubbing her neck until he's out of sight.
An armoured hand hovers over her back and she glances over her shoulder to the commanding officer. 'General.'
He carefully helps her to her feet and she rolls her head until her neck pops. 'Thank you, Cody.'