Fortress Vader

Thirty-two - Unbosomed

I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes until I tell them to.
Year 7

———

Kat

I can't pinpoint exactly when I realized something was wrong. After I mostly destroyed my father's old complex, Anakin dressed me in the dark and carried me out of it, then walked home with me.

And I haven't heard from him since. It's been almost seven months. Even Lord Vader seems to be avoiding me.

Sometime between then and now, it began to feel purposeful. Vader usually did quarterly check-ins with me during the periods he was gone more frequently—he hasn't. Perhaps he found out about me and Anakin and is mad at me. I don't know.

But I think I'm...depressed. I feel how I did after James was killed. I can't create, haven't been able to work on my side work for months. I can't sleep. Something just feels wrong. What if something happens to one of them? Will anyone even tell me?

So, when my datapad pings with an order to go to the throne room, a million thoughts begin to fight for dominance in my mind. Many of the possibilities are not good, but the relief is unmistakable. The message is from Vader, not Anakin, but I don't even care. I just hope this insane silent treatment is over. Maybe I'm taking it personally when it has nothing to do with me...

But I can't shake the feeling that something happened between Anakin and myself that day in the complex. I had felt so fractured...and it was like he gave me a part of himself, trying to glue my broken pieces together. I just can't help but wonder if he hadn't actually had anything to give, and had given too much as a result.

With precision, I shake my thoughts away and glance in the mirror to make sure my face doesn't reveal my conflict. I look a touch tired, but with a straightened spine and some adjustments to my face, I look fine.

The lift feels slower than usual. I spend the time trying to empty my mind, a part of me wishing a Jedi could teach me meditation. Surely someone like me could still achieve a quiet mind.

My shoes are mostly silent as I approach the throne. He's facing away, staring outside the long windows.

"My lord, welcome home," I say and begin to bow—but his hand shoots out, already telling me to rise.

It's like, a whole dang minute before he turns to stare down at me. I quickly take in his appearance: nothing looks out of place, no damage to his suit.

"You are done distracting my apprentice, I see."

Shit. He knows. That's why he's been gone, too. He's avoiding me. Me! Why? If he is truly mad at me, why would he not punish me? Why avoid me?

My heart increases to a speed that would probably alarm a doctor. I don't have an answer, but he goes on when I don't reply.

"It is for the best. He has more important things to worry about than you. Now, if he steps foot near you again, it will be the last thing he ever does."

I can't look at him. I can't be the reason Anakin dies.

But also—what the fuck? Kill me, not Anakin!

He flips around to face away again, his cloak swooshing in the quiet room.

I am grateful he retreated because I feel sick by his presence. How dare he act as if Anakin's life can just be thrown away. I can't find the words, but he must feel something from me because his next words are a punch to my gut.

"You would choose him over me?" he asks in a voice so quiet that the modulation barely picks it up, and for a moment, I think of Anakin.

"My lord," I try, but it falls flat. I don't want to lie to him, really, but I can't tell him the truth that if Vader really decides to kill him, I will go to great, unimaginable lengths to stop him. I am no Force user, but I'm growing angry. Who is he to make me choose when I've been nothing but loyal to both? Does he not know I'm working on his modifications? That the Emperor himself ordered it?