Some say I am a kind and gentle soul. Others think that I'm loving and beautiful. And even more believe that I am an angel. Some say that I roam my home world of Naboo, and some say that I travel from planet to planet, looking for a place to stay. To keep everybody guessing, I suppose I do a bit of both. It wasn't long after my death when the legends began to surface: my spirit could be seen around Theed Palace; I walk across the Dune Seas of Tatooine; Hell, some even say I have gone to join the Force. Sure, it's nice to wander the courtyard of the palace I once called home, and it's nice to travel from place to place for free in the blink of an eye, but it's even better to know that I have more power than I could have ever imagined.

What the legends fail to tell is the truth. And the truth is this: I am a tortured spirit. I am angry, desolate, empty. I am vengeful. I am not ashamed to admit it, either. I watched my own funeral. It was comforting to know how many mourned my death, but when I really thought about it, how many of them were honestly hurt that I was gone? And how many of them knew what actually happened to me? None of them. Not a single soul. My whole life was one big secret. Oh, don't tell anybody that the little girl in the handmaiden's dress is the queen! Don't let the Senate know that the girl with the white face and the huge dress is actually just a little servant, and the Force forbid that anybody learns that Padmé Amidala got married in the hopes of having a happy and normal life! It just wasn't fair. And what hurt the most for me was that my own husband, as much as I hated him for what he had done, didn't mourn with the others. He never said goodbye to me. Anakin, though. He's the main reason I am so tortured.

To put it delicately, I am a very angry spirit. I want my revenge, and I want to succeed. I'm not a murderous spirit. It's not just anybody that should feel my pain. It's just one person. I want Anakin to suffer as much as I had. I want him to know what he had done to me. He killed me. And while I know I shouldn't kill him, part of me wants him terrified. After my funeral was over, I found him. He wasn't much of a man any more. I'm not going to say I laughed, but there was something about seeing the one who was supposed to be the most powerful in the galaxy, the living proof that an ancient prophecy was true, reduced to a pile of metal and flesh that was almost satisfying.

I can feel his presence. It's never a very strong feeling. It tends to linger somewhere in my chest, and the closer he is, the stronger it becomes. And when he's close enough, it physically hurts. After seeing him in his new body, I avoided him for a long time. I spent many years following my children, though I knew that they were both in good hands, and would both amount to something more than their father ever did. When I was around the children, that's when I was the "gentle" spirit that so many people seem to think I am. I doubt they ever felt that I was with them, but for a while, it kept me from destroying Anakin. But things are starting to change. In fact, they already have. Tonight, I want to haunt Anakin Skywalker.

The ship is silent. It's so tempting to start screaming and wreak havoc on board, but I know I have to control myself if I don't want to be cast out in the name of the Force. I can sense Anakin's presence, but this time, it doesn't pain me. He's in his quarters, in the very back of the ship. I'll get to him eventually.

"Good night, Captain," one of the officers says with a curt nod.

"Make sure to leave the hall lights dim," the captain replies before they part ways. "You know how Lord Vader feels about-"

"Yes Sir," the officer cuts in quickly.

Hmm, that's interesting. Leave some night lights on for Lord Vader? Is Anakin afraid of the dark now? I walk through the ship, taking my time before I reach Anakin's quarters. I pass through the officer, and he shivers violently. I can't help but laugh; it never ceases to amuse me when I frighten people. But I've got a job to do, and I can't waste my time. For a moment, I stand outside Anakin's door before entering his room.

"I hope you sleep well, Lord Vader," says his protocol droid.

Anakin says nothing. He reaches over and turns off the silver droid, and then looks around him. With a sigh, he pulls a worn photograph out from under his pillow, and turns it over in his hand. I watch as he stares at it for a while, and then puts it back and rests his head in his hands. I decide it's time to have my fun.

With a snap of my fingers, all the hall lights flicker off. Anakin looks up quickly, but stays where he is. He's not afraid...yet. I seal his chamber door tightly, and turn off the light.

"Who's there?" he asks. I shudder. I never did get used to his new voice.

I decide to take things a little further.

"Anakin," I say. It sounds strange to hear my voice echoing through the room.

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am."

There is a long pause. The room is completely silent, other than the mechanical sound of Anakin's breathing.

"Padmé?"

"You killed me, Anakin. Why did you kill me?"

"I never meant to."

"You choked me. I was pregnant, and you almost choked me to death in front of your master. And after our children were born, I was too weak to keep my eyes open. I had to let go."

"Padmé..."

"You didn't come to my funeral. You didn't say goodbye."

"Padmé, please turn the light back on."

"You killed me Anakin. And now it's my turn to kill you."

I reach for the lightsaber sitting on his shelf, and its brilliant red blade shoots from its hilt.

"I'm doing this for you," Anakin says. I can hear the tremor in his voice. "I know that in my anger, I killed you. Don't think that I will never regret that. I thought that you had turned on me, and I was so clouded with jealousy and rage. I'm building this Death Star, and I'm ruling this Empire, but I'm not just doing this for myself. I wanted you to be proud of me, Padmé. I wanted you to be proud of how powerful I have become."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Padmé, please."

I hear the sound of footsteps racing closer and closer. An officer is coming. I drop his lightsaber, and it clatters to the floor.

"Don't forget about me," I hiss. "I am angry, and I am not finished with you."

On my way out, I pass through the whole line of officers and make them all shiver, just for good measure.