Vader sighed, appearing almost disappointed. His gaze shifted to the trooper.
"Trooper TC-423," he said, and the trooper snapped to attention again.
"Yes, sir!" the trooper responded loudly, saluting his leader. Vader moved closer, towering over the clone. "Do you turn your back on your enemy, trooper?"
The trooper appeared to hesitate. His fingers tensed around his blaster, and his weight shifted on his feet. "I– I," he stammered. Padmé had never witnessed a trooper falter before; she hadn't realized they were capable of it. "I wasn't aware that–"
"That she was your enemy?" Vader asked, tilting his head slightly.
"No," the trooper stammered, shaking his head. "I mean, of course, sir. I just–"
"Did not perceive her as a threat?"
The trooper remained silent; his answer was obvious.
Vader stood tall, embodying his role as a leader. "Underestimating your opponent creates an opportunity for attack," he admonished, his tone laced with anger. "It generates a weakness that can be exploited. "
Vader raised his hand, and Padmé instantly felt the pull of the tiny blade in her hand. It was impossible to retain it as if he had literally torn it from her fingers. The blade soared through the air into his awaiting grasp, and he twisted it for the trooper to see.
"She planned to stab this into your throat," he said simply as if he were talking about something as ordinary as the weather. "Her aim appeared perfectly precise. A strike straight to the jugular. I imagine you would have bled out in seconds."
The trooper's helmet turned toward the blade, then to the woman, and then back to his commander. "I–I," he stumbled over his words again. "I didn't realize, sir."
"Your incompetence almost cost you and your fellow troopers their lives," Vader stated firmly. "You are relieved of duty, trooper. Go back to your barracks; perhaps you should use this time to consider how you can ensure the safety of yourself and your command in the future. We cannot afford such careless mistakes, and I will not tolerate this negligence."
Vader's words landed heavily on the trooper, briefly causing his shoulders to sag. However, he quickly regained his composure and stood tall again. With a nod, he saluted his commander. "Yes, sir. I will make every effort to do so, sir."
Padmé felt powerless as the trooper left, leaving her alone with Darth Vader. A wave of dread washed over her, snuffing out any glimmer of hope she had harbored, plunging her into icy despair.
After a moment, Padmé said, "You shouldn't be here," feeling some of her shock fade away. She was unconcerned that he could probably hear the anger and confusion in her voice. He had already probed her mind and heard her thoughts, so there was no reason to conceal her real feelings about him now. "How did you get here?"
In contrast to the previous evening, when she naively felt secure around the Sith, she felt vulnerable now. Every instinct was heightened, warning her of the looming threat. She remained acutely aware of him and his every action, contemplating his potential next move with trepidation.
He edged closer, his concealed stare fixed on her from beneath the hood. It felt like knives piercing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. To preserve the space between them, she carefully stepped back.
Vader paused, tilting his head. "Nervous, Senator?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice. "I thought we had developed a sense of familiarity after last night." She disliked his tone and the implications behind his words. Embarrassment gnawed at her, but she resisted the urge to falter under his stare. "I was drunk last night," she reluctantly confessed, leveraging it as her excuse. "You can't really hold that against me."
He fell silent, seeming to scrutinize her, causing Padmé to contemplate his intentions and the thoughts racing in his mind. A shiver ran through her at the memory of his actions during their last encounter and the way he had looked at her, considering the state he had found her in, yet she attempted to push it aside.
"I suppose not," he replied after a moment, dismissing the fact. He pivoted and walked away from her, allowing her to breathe while he paused briefly at the window to take in the city view. Then, he turned back, reaching for the sphere on her bedside table. He held it out, using the Force to lift it gently into the air and make it spin in his hand. "Still, I'm quite disappointed," he remarked with a shrug, watching the sphere rise and fall. "I had hoped to instill some fear in you- the fear you overlooked last night. I had many ideas to refresh your memory." He caught the ball in his hand, squeezing it tightly until he crushed it completely. Facing her, he added, "However, it seems I have no reason to do that."
She lifted her head, pushing aside the fear bubbling in her stomach. "I am not afraid of you," she declared with confidence. Padmé stood her ground, refusing to cower under his stare.
Vader seemed to interpret her declaration as a challenge and rushed towards her without hesitation. He charged through her bedroom with the force of a bull, like Death himself fixated on her. His hand hovered over the weapon dangling from his hip.
The scene was both frightening and intense. Her response was instinctive. She recoiled, releasing a soft whimper as she fell to the ground, tripping over her own feet.
Vader came to a halt just before her, his feet positioned at hers, gazing down into her wide eyes from the spot where she had fallen.
"Hmm," Vader mused, after another moment, sounding satisfied.
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