With Thunderous Applause

A Prayer To The Stars

It's a dark time for the rebellion. Although the Death Star has been destroyed, the operation revealed the existence of Luke Skywalker to Darth Vader. Concerned for her son's safety, Padmé Amidala, secret leader of the rebellion, sends Luke to the Dagobah system to train under an old friend. Meanwhile, the Millennium Falcon, concealing the rebellion leader and her inner circle, flee to Cloud City for refuge. The mining colony is secretly funded by the rebellion leader and fronted by a man named Lando Calrisian.

✧

The metal of Padmé's mask dug into her temples. She still felt claustrophobic under its weight, even after two decades. The mask was a necessity. Padmé Amidala was dead to the outside world, and she intended to keep it that way.

She watched cautiously as Lando greeted Han on the landing pad. She hadn't known about their history. Looking down at her daughter, she whispered, "I picked this man because he was clever and had nothing. Be wary, child. Refuge and betrayal are equally likely." The two moved as mirror images of each other towards the men. Padmé spoke over the wind. "I trust you have taken care of my colony."

Lando grinned. "I've done more than that. We've expanded while keeping our presence unknown to The Empire."

"Our repairs won't be a burden?"

"Nothing is a burden for our founder. Come. Let's get out of this wind."

The crisp white hallways were just as she remembered. As they walked through the foyer, Padmé found herself gazing down a different hallway. Her feet stopped without her permission.

"That's where we've provided a place of residence for our workers," Lando said from the front of the group. "We have a larger quarter ahead."

Padmé covered her slight misstep by saying, "I admire the work you've done, Lando." Looking around, Padmé realized C3-P0 was no longer in their company. Her heart spluttered in her chest. She moved to stand beside Chewie and said, "It seems we've lost a droid. Would you mind acquiring him?"

The wookiee gave an exaggerated nod before peeling off from the group.

✧

Leia was pacing the large conference room. Her nerves did nothing but elevate Padmé's. Thankfully, for the both of them, Han walked back into the room. "The ship's almost finished. Two or three more things and we're in great shape."

"The sooner the better," Leia said. "Something's wrong here. No one has seen or knows anything about Threepio, and he's been gone too long to have gotten lost."

Han kissed Leia's forehead, and a smile grew on Padmé's face. She had not wanted Han to join her inner circle, but Luke had insisted, claiming he was a good man. As each day passed, Padmé became increasingly aware of the man's feelings towards Leia. He was here to stay, no matter what he boasted.

"Mother," Leia began, "why invest in this place?"

"Rebellion is expensive, and I'm sure it would drive the Emperor's attack dog mad if he knew it existed."

Han chuckled. "I like the way you think."

The doors hissed and Chewie stormed in carrying a torn apart C3-P0 in a bin. He placed the bin on the center table in front of Padmé.

"What happened?" Leia asked.

Padmé didn't hear the explanation. She was sick to her stomach. She knelt beside C3-P0 and placed a hand to his head. Besides her children, the droid was the last piece of Anakin she had.

"Will you come, founder?" Lando asked.

She hadn't even noticed him reentering the room. "No, I'm quite tired from travelling. Please, go. Enjoy yourselves." When everyone had gone, Padmé began working. If Anakin could build this droid from nothing, she could repair it. Padmé ripped off her gloves and began prying and reassembling the crumpled metal. Even as her fingers began to bleed, she continued.

At long last, C3-P0 sputtered to life and said, "Stormtroopers? Here?"

Padmé heaved a sigh. "Betrayal it is."

Droids and workers alike threw themselves against the walls as Padmé stormed down the hallways. She did not care if they were the galaxy's superpower. This colony was hers. The hallway grew dark, but her footsteps didn't falter.

✧

"Perhaps you think you're being treated unfairly."

Padmé heard the mechanical voice before she laid eyes on him. When she was in his view, Darth Vader raised a gloved hand. The doors of the elevator halted and opened on their own accord. He took three slow steps towards her, and Padmé yielded no ground. "Rebel leader, such a golden mask would not go unrecognized."

"You're one to speak." Padmé felt the man's piercing gaze even through the depthless eyes of his mask.

"Are you hoping for diplomacy? You will find nothing of the sort."

"Would aggressive negotiations suit you better?"

Darth Vader stepped—staggered—away from her. That heavily gloved hand touched his chest for a moment before it reached forward.

Padmé raised her blaster with the intention of permanently melting the mask to his face beneath, but her resolve faltered as his phantom hand brushed against her neck. The smell of fire and brimstone overcame her, and her skin prickled with a long-forgotten heat. In her moment of hesitation, she felt those familiar fingers leave her neck and instead claw frantically at her own mask. The metal fell to the floor as did Lord Vader.

The second in command of The Empire knelt at her feet and spoke her name. "Padmé."

"That name is dead. Who are you?"

"I am yours, in life, and in death..."

And as that mechanical voice recited a prayer she had given to the stars years ago, Padmé wept in violent bursts. Her body struggled to remember the action. No tears had befallen her since Mustafar, but now, rage and grief ran rampant in her. Rage screamed to shoot him where he knelt. Grief shook her hand so hard that she couldn't aim. Somewhere they met in the middle, and she spoke his name, "Anakin."