On the Wings of Valkyrie

Chapter CXIV

"....Luna, why are you out of bed?" Ahsoka asked as she walked into the one kitchen she was aware of that had the pantry stocked to find both the girl and Luke Skywalker eating scrambled eggs.

"Why not?" Luna responded.

The Grey Jedi blinked, unsure of how to answer the question. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," the girl stated. "Want to join us?"

"Sure. Have either of you seen Padmé this morning?"

"Very early this morning. She was in theory going to bed but met up with Vader instead."

"....Do you think they talked?" Luke asked, sounding hopeful. Luna shrugged, an aura of carelessness radiating from the movement.

"Don't know. Don't care."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow, knowing the human girl well enough by now to know that she wasn't being honest about the Don't care part.

~*~

At first there were flashes. Nothing concrete, simply vague outlines of colors. Muttered words that Vader could not hope to catch, let alone understand. Perhaps, if he concentrated hard enough, some of the images at least formed into images of battle. War.

But he didn't want to see the broad future. He wanted Luna's vision.

The Sith brought to mind what little he had managed to pull from his apprentice's mind. The pain, fear, and confusion pared with the blurred image of a girl (supposed only due to the large blur of color that was likely hair). Vader used the reference to see what parts of the future was attracted by the forewarning. See if anything in particular was drawn to expand on what Luna had witnessed.

It came almost instantly. Tangles of paths, of possible destinies and fates yet decided, hundreds of choices facing the Force only knew how many people that lead to all these different branches, some being more likely to happen then others as multiple choices wrapped together like vines to select one specific destiny more likely than the rest.

Vader focused on the largest, the most likely that the vision's origin seemed to wind around, surprisingly enough, near several branch off points of about equal size.

That was all he managed to take note of before there was a flare off from the large central branch, momentarily blinding the Sith before an image came into focus.

The background was unclear (the backgrounds were always unclear in Vader's visions). Shadow figures moved on the edge of the image, unidentifiable as the main focus lay on two combatants, locked in a fight and taking up most of the scene.

But it wasn't a true fight. No.

Because the duel had ended with a clear winner.

"And so the Shadow finally falls," Palaptine hissed, a red lightsaber embedded in Luna's chest as his lightning crackled over her skin. Her mouth was hanging open in seeming shock, dark blue eyes dazed, not yet aware of what had happened.

Then she did know. He could see in her wide eyes as she understood whatever had just transpired that had led to this horrible nightmare Vader had found himself staring at, unable to escape. The Emperor moved to pull away just as Luna's eyes turned yellow, a wild desperation present in her otherwise usual expression, giving herself over to the darkside. The dagger of unknown origins that had recently come into her position flashed into her hand from nowhere, morphing into a sword as she swung with every bit of strength she could muster.