A Destiny Rewritten

chapter iii: the dark truth.

Padmé Amidala stares blankly at the ceiling of the room the Stormtroopers placed her in. Despite the fear and anxiety building within her, she lays almost peacefully on the gray bed in the room. She's been panicking so much for the past few hours that she just feels numb now, like all the feeling has just drained out of her.

She's already exhausted all of the possibilities why Vader sent her here, all of which end badly. There probably isn't much she can do the save Leia, either, not unless she can escape. But without outside help, escaping from a high-security Star Destroyer didn't seem very plausible. Padmé can't even get out of this room--she already tried--let alone an entire ship.

If she dies, perhaps she would see Anakin in the afterlife, if there is one awaiting her. Padmé smiles weakly to herself; it is a nice thought among many grim ones.

Padmé sits up on her bed when she hears the doors to the room slide open. Darth Vader is standing in the doorway and tentatively takes a few steps forward, almost as if he is nervous. She just peers at him, completely silent and still, waiting for him to speak rather than taking initiative herself. There's an anxious knot gathering in the back of her throat, she just wishes he would disappear. She wants this all to just disappear; she wishes to be back on Alderaan, watching the snow fall outside the window that looks into the courtyard.

Padmé doesn't want to talk to him at all, but she knows she doesn't have much of a choice. While she may not be in a cell, she is most certainly a prisoner.

"Are you afraid?" he asks her. Vader must sense her apprehension through the Force; Padmé remembers that Anakin and other Force users could usually interpret others' emotions just by being in their presence.

Yes, she answers in her head, but she would never admit that aloud. She won't give him the pleasure of knowing that she fears him.

Instead of answering, Padmé says nothing. She just looks into that empty stare of his and crosses her arms in defiance.

"You don't need to be," he continues once he realizes that he isn't going to get a vocal answer from her. She supposes that he doesn't really need one; she doesn't even understand why he asked her that question in the first place, when all he has to do is reach out through the Force to know.

This time, she says something in return. "And why is that?" she inquires, truly curious. His intentions are still a mystery to her, and it makes her beyond nervous not knowing what he wants.

Vader does not answer her question. Instead, he replies with a question of this own. "In the ship, you said you wouldn't tell me anything because you 'hate me.' Explain that to me; I have not seen you in nineteen years. What have I done to warrant your hatred?"

Nineteen years? Padmé ponders. Could Vader have been someone she knew? A former Jedi, perhaps?

"What do you mean, 'nineteen years?'" she asks. "I've never seen you in person until today."

"You have," he replies. "You just don't know it." Before Padmé can say anything, Vader continues. "I would like for you to answer my question. Why did you say that you hate me?"

He demands nothing of her, Padmé realizes. One would think that Vader would only give orders, give her commands. But he doesn't--instead, he requests this information of her.

She gulps, but the nervous knot in her throat remains. Though she has heard his voice many times now, Padmé still hasn't gotten used to the deep, mechanical voice that still sounds somewhat human. Nor has she gotten used to his respirator, which is unnervingly loud in the thickening silence.

Padmé stands so that she is more level with Vader, trying to muster her courage. Even when she is up on her feet, the shadowy figure of Darth Vader still looms ominously over her. She feels trapped, like a caged animal being prepared for slaughter, despite the fact that Vader has made no move to harm her. He hasn't even threatened her.