~Ahsoka's POV~

Ahsoka felt liberated. Air Raid, she now realized, had been a personification of the Dark Side, and she had been holding Ahsoka back. Now, there was no holding her back. She was with her family. Intrepid and Lux moved and spun around her, the three of them spinning in harmony like a top. Here, there were no leaders, no responsibilities. They were a team, a Trio. The Trio. Air Raid, and the life she had lived, were dead.


~Padme's POV~

Padme felt fortunate, fortunate for so many reasons. She and Nava were back to back, sisters, peacekeepers, Jedi. Family. This element had been missing these past few months, Padme realized. Without the chords of strength they all shared, there was no strength for her and Anakin, Luke or Leia.

Without the Jedi, and the Republic, each of them was nothing. Without each other, they were merely citizens. Now they could be heroes, together. Padme felt laughter bubble up inside of her, started in the pit of her stomach by joy, unquenchable relief that she had felt was lost with her baby. Page Abner, and the life she had lived, were dead.


~Lux's POV~

Lux felt complete. Since the loss of his arm, he had been aware of the emptiness inside of him, the gorging hollowness sin his heart. Now, it was filled, by purpose. He had been born to be a king, yet he felt destined to be something else, so much more.

He laughed as Ahsoka soared past him, her green blades flashing like the colorful wings of a silk moth. Intrepid ducked underneath him, her body fluid as passing waves. The others around him did not lead. He did not have to be a leader here.

He just had to be a Jedi, a part of a family older than him, and that many non-force-users had been exempt from for generations. Generations before him. That was fulfilling. He did not need to be a king to have power, or to feel purpose. He just had to be Lux. That was the last-and the lost- piece of the puzzle.

That being said, Lama Rai and the life he had lived, was dead.


~Nava's POV~

Nava felt secure. By the side of her sister, within range of her daughter, and in the protective force-grasp of her family, she felt boundlessly safe. She had never felt her true mothers embrace, but she had felt a mother's hug, and this was it; the arms of the force signatures that she had not felt in so long.

Anakin's fiery one filled with power. Padme's soothing one saturated in strength. Ahsoka's passionate one packed with determination. Lux's righteous one trodden with caring. Intrepid's willful one watered down in pride. Obi-wan's calm one, created by strife. This was home. And the life of Anav Aethra died there.


~Intrepid's POV~

Intrepid felt at peace. For the first time she was not burdened with emotions of passion, or dizzied by the strike of betrayal, death and the chains of slavery, the cries of rebellion. She was at peace here. In the circle of deadly power that Ahsoka, she and Lux had formed within the other confines of Anakin and Obi-wan on one side and Padme fighting with Nava in the other.

There was no contradiction within the circle of her friends, her family. They would not let war come to her, and in return, she felt meaning not letting it come to them. Was this love, the emotion she felt for these people?

Somehow, she felt as if it were. And she felt as if it were different from the love that had taken her heart with En-lai, for the pure reason that this love, she knew, was real and unbreakable. So she was able to let her guard down and dismiss Infinity to the bowels of eternity.


~Obi-wan's POV~

Obi-wan felt as if he weren't alone anymore. Amazing, really, how he had never noticed it. Yet he realized it had always been there. He never felt alone with them. He felt lost sometimes, and helpless, many times cold. But never alone. For the first time in months…That spot of cold had turned warm.

The aching in his heart was replaced by joyful singing. The force flowed through him, and he could see. He could not see color, but he could see that he was not alone. He could see something bedsides the dark.

He could have wept with the relief. As it was, he merely recognized that he may have been having too much fun as he and Anakin nearly danced around each other gracefully, switching tactics and sides to defeat the Sith. Darth Vader prowled back and forth away from the fighting, watching Anakin with deadly eyes. Obi-wan was not worried. After all, he was a Jedi, and the force was with him. Besides, Osiris Aethra was dead.


~Anakin's POV~

Anakin felt prosperous. Growing up as a slave, then a Jedi did not provide one with this feeling very often. Yet Anakin felt it now. He felt like the luckiest, richest, most bountiful man in the universe.

He was home. They were home. It was okay now.

Despite the worrying fact of Vader, watching his every move from a distance while the small army that had gathered overwhelmed the remaining Sith and a few townspeople returned to join in the tussle, he felt carelessly free and unworried.

His lightsaber rotated in a rainbow of colors as he and Obi-wan moved around each other like dancers. He knew Obi-wan's moves so accurately well it was endearing. In this position, Ace Abner, and the life he had lived, meant nothing at all to Anakin.

He was Jedi, through and through. He glanced over at his angel, who was smiling as Nava suddenly stooped. Padme twirled and stepped into the cupped hand. With acrobatic strength, Nava lifted Padme above her head, where the senator began shooting from above while Nava fought one handed below.

Why don't we try that? He asked through the bond, then grinned when he remembered how strong it was. Obi-wan cast him an incredulous look.

You would snap my spine in half, he replied. Anakin snickered as Obi-wan projected a horrified image of Anakin stepping into his hand and Obi-wan falling over, collapsing them both in an undignified heap while Obi-wan whined about his hip.

He laughed aloud, infuriating the current Sith they were battling. He felt so boundlessly free it was funny and heartbreaking at the same time. Anakin glanced over at Vader, and his freedom darkened into duty.

Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, Vader turned away, fists clenched. The Force around him churned, he was extremely attuned to it. Yet he was no Anakin Skywalker. As if it had been waiting for a cue, an Empire ship suddenly swooped down from the sky. Anakin gasped; Vader was escaping!

True to the Galactic principle of Sith, without waiting for the ship to land, Vader abandoned his brethren to jump atop the bulkhead and vanish into a hatch. Anakin's teeth gritted.

He would not let Vader get away. "Master!" he turned to see Ahsoka. Their eyes met, he looked over at Obi-wan, who nodded his assent. "Just like old times!" Obi-wan said as he and Anakin crouched on one knee, hands cupped.

"How things have changed," Anakin muttered fondly. The ship was rising, they had to hurry or they would not make it. Ahsoka backed away a few feet, eyes narrowed and hands on her lightsabers, calling strength from the beloved crystals.

Then, with a burst of Force-enhanced speed she ran and stepped into their palms. Anakin and Obi-wan flung her into the air.

Ahsoka sailed, arrow-like, towards the quickly ascending ship. A thin, strong rope dropped from her survival belt to the ground. Ahsoka stuck the landing, holding onto the bottom of the ship tightly. Anakin vaguely made out her snapping the other tip of the cable to the ship's bottom. Anakin and Obi-wan grabbed the end and started climbing.

The ship rose above the town's smoldering remains, leaving the others to fend for themselves. Anakin hoped Padme did not get herself hurt again. "Well," Obi-wan panted softly, when they had successfully slipped into the ship.

Ahsoka stuck her head around a corner. "It's time to end this once and for all," Anakin nodded, uncertain. The force was telling him something he could feel it. It wanted him to wait. It warned him to be patient.

"I think we should hide," he suggested. "Why? Vader is right there. We could take him now," Ahsoka pointed out. Anakin shook his head. "Trust me on this. It's a feeling," he explained.

Ahsoka and Obi-wan exchanged rueful, knowing smiles. "Here we go again," they sighed in unison. Anakin scowled and crossed his arms, feigning indignance. Force, he had missed them.

"Whatever. Come on, we have to find a place to hide," he said.


Later:

~Darth Vader's POV~

"Lord Vader," Darth Tyrannous, his master's current favorite, greeted in a smooth monologue, contemptuous golden eyes expressionless. Vader walked out of the ship, nearly sprinting, still panting from the fight.

The ash falling from the firmament did not help matters, either. He glanced up at the blood red sky. Mustafar was not a welcoming planet. His gaze slipped to the small structure behind Dooku.

He could feel the Dark Side here; it was strong…There was death in the air. The screams of those now dead. What had been his mission? Who had they been sent to kill? Vader wondered if perhaps they were rebel leaders. Rumors had spread that they were considering making Mustafar a meeting destination.

Vader wished Dooku would have saved some for him. Vader wanted to make someone scream for the humiliations he had faced at the hands of those Jedi, particularly the Jedi themselves.

Behind Dooku stood the respectful and reserved Starkiller. His eyes had an attentiveness that disturbed Vader… He stopped before Dooku and bowed.

"My master Tyrannous," he gulped. "I have just returned from Courascant," he explained. He hoped Dooku did not notice him trembling. "Ah, yes," the older Jedi drawled, slowly. His cultured accent reminded Vader of Kenobi. He shivered.

He had just been bested by those Jedi scum. He would make them pay, every moment of pain he suffered, they would find ten times worse when he inflicted the same torture on them. Or the children, when he got a hold of them.

The children would be a nice change…

"You were sent there to apprehend Skywalker, were you not? Have you returned with him in custody?" Dooku demanded sharply. Vader winced. Please, please don't make it so bad this time, he mentally pleaded as he gulped.

Failure was always met with strict punishment. "No, master, I-" He was interrupted by another cultured voice, which echoed out from behind him.

"I am afraid he has returned with us, Count, but not in custody!" Obi-wan Kenobi said. Vader swiveled around to see Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano and Obi-wan Kenobi in the doorway of his ship! How had they gotten there?

"Skywalker!" he gasped. "Kenobi!"Dooku hissed, eyes flashing with either admiration or anger. "Tano!" Starkiller said, his eyes growing wide with surprise. Ahsoka smiled cordially at Starkiller, Obi-wan smirked and nodded to the Count and Anakin crossed his arms, eyes flashing.

"This ends now," he decided. "Darth Vader," Dooku barked. "You can make amends for your disgrace! Take Skywalker into custody at once. I will deal with Master Kenobi," he planned.

"The Charlatan Queen is mine," Starkiller growled, slipping off his cloak. Dooku ignited his lightsaber. Skywalker leaned towards Kenobi, and whispered something softly, his eyes never leaving Vader's.

Kenobi nodded and waved his hand dismissively. Tano murmured something that made both men emit a flickering smile. Why did these Jedi smile before a battle? Vader did not understand. They seemed so…Confident. Not overconfident or cocky, as he had been taught, but just confident.

Before he could ponder this, the three blades of Jedi were ignited, in obvious warning. Blue and green. The Sith ignited their own in obvious challenge. Vader stood to his feet. Red.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then there was war, a war that had been ongoing for thousands of years, the war that now rested on his shoulders. He pushed against Anakin's blade as Lava exploded from the river below, scorching the already sweltering atmosphere. On this planet, everything would change forever.


~Anakin's POV~

"Join me, Anakin."

Anakin had once trusted Palpatine. He had believed almost every word the Chancellor had told him, every piece of advice, because Palpatine told him what he wanted to hear.

He had indulged and flattered him in a universe of critics, of friends. He had gone to the older man for everything, and at times believed him his true father. Years earlier, Palpatine had been considered among those in Anakin's family.

Anakin saw what that would have made him into now.

"You have let this Dark Lord twist your mind until now…Now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy."

Looking into Vader's eyes, he saw himself, and he did not like that. He did not like that he felt as if he knew Vader personally, as if he were staring into the mirror at a parallel dimension. A future he had barely escaped.

He saw one of the futures he could have taken. The future always changed, and yet this could have been his fate. Would he have been fighting Obi-wan? Mace? Ahsoka? Would he have hurt Padme? Taken her down with him? What would have become of Luke and Leia? He shivered at the thought, but somehow managed to struggle up the brace.

They had sunk a building. So alike, were they, yet so different.

The bright reds and oranges of the lava below made sweat break out on every inch of his body. The Force wanted him to see something; he knew it.

Spouting from the lava was extremely heated air; it whipped against his face and dried his lungs. This planet felt evil, almost as bad as Serreno. It felt like the sort of place where all dreams were destroyed.

"Don't make me hurt you,"

Vader took a wild swipe at his knees, and Anakin jumped. He glanced back at the building that was starting to crumble into the lava. He hoped Obi-wan and Ahsoka were alright. He wheezed, exhausted and barely able to breathe, the amount of malice and hatred Vader was projecting…Could this clone have ever been something else?

Could he have been me, in a different life?

Palpatine had betrayed him. Now, his clone monster had destroyed his home, his reputation, his life, sent them to that foul curse of a planet called Courascant. He was the cause of all this pain. He was the problem. Anakin hated him.

"I have failed you, Anakin, I have failed you."

Yet at the same time, he could not help but feel pity for him. Anakin could not imagine a loveless life. A dark, lonely, anger-filled fate. He did not want to think about what would happen to Vader when he returned to Sidious empty handed. Anakin did not want to think about Vader's life. It frightened him, and fear led to anger. He believed that. What did Vader believe? Did he believe anything at all?

"This is the end for you, my master!"

The voices, disrupting the blazing noise of lightsabers and Vader's taunts, came from deep within Anakin, which also frightened him. He felt as if he had said them once, long ago, mayhap in a dream. Or nightmare, though he could not recall the details of such a nightmare.

He could not remember waking up, or even having it, yet he somehow knew that it was there. It was real. He had said that. Or would have. Will say them. Something.

"You're only destroying yourself, Darth," he called over, when Vader stumbled unto a small levitating droid. Anakin jumped atop a larger piece, and they continued their fight, feet above the lava, hot enough so that Anakin felt as if his skin were on fire.

Vader snorted, and Anakin felt deep grief well within him, bottomless sorrow. Not only for Vader, but for himself. He felt as if he were being betrayed. But by whom?

"You've turned her against me!"

"Then I will die in flames, greater than you!" Anakin narrowed his eyes against the blinding light of blue and red sparking against one another. One lightsaber was authentic, dug from the ice-mountains of cherished Ilum, earned through facing fears or embracing truth. The other was artificial, crafted from fire, and dark arts, stolen by thieving trickery or animal strength.

Anakin inhaled deeply, pulling the light around him like a shield. "Weep not for the past, fear not the future," he tried to direct himself. The Force, though, did not approve of him using Jedi sayings to push it's decree away. It willed him to see, to understand.

Not a voice, not Qui-gon or Tahl, but a deep resonating language, spoken without words or voice but spoken, somehow, through silence, erupted behind his tightly packed shields, it slithered around his mind, woven with undomesticated command.

Look into his eyes. See yourself. See what you could have become.

Anakin stared at Vader, and understood.

"From my point of view the Jedi are evil!"

In a split second, he was someone else entirely. The force wanted him to realize it, to feel the stark horror. Tears blocked Anakin's vision a moment more as he allowed himself to feel the agonizing anger, the desperation, the endless sorrow and disbelief.

Dark, boiling hatred which burned his skin and set his eyes aflame. He bashed against Vader's saber, wanting the pain to leave his body with the blow, he wanted the truth to slip away with the charge, but it did not. His teeth gritted, and sweat drizzled out of his pours.

He was desperate; he was heartbroken. He just wanted someone to take the pain…But he had already made his decision. He wanted power, and he would gut the entire universe before he allowed it to stray from his hands. Powerless, never again.

"Then you are lost!"

Yes, he was lost. He was furious at his loss, at his helplessness to find the light again. There was no light. He was already too far gone. There was no hope now, his only hope rested within the dark, within the folds of potential power. This was the Dark Side, what he had become, who he was.

Anakin gasped as he leapt from his perch to a high bank. The ground beneath sweltered through his boots, placing third degree burns on the soles of his feet through the leather. He could not stay long.

He stared up at Vader, and realized tears were running down both sets of cheeks. They had both of them felt it, then, he and Vader together. They had felt what they could have become, the roles and how they might have been switched that day on Genesis.

How Vader might have been the one with a family, with honor, with love and the Force's guidance. How Anakin could have been Vader, honor bound to hate, to lie and cheat others for his own willful gain, to destroy all who would dare oppose his wrath, a mere tool of selfish greed and perverted desires.

However, the force had deemed it not to be so, for some reason. Anakin was free, while Vader was not. It was unfair, and Anakin knew, with every ounce of being within him, that he would have deserved Vader's fate more than his clone did.

Vader had been born and placed into this position, without any say or explanation. Anakin could not hate him; no matter what Vader had done. He did not deserve this, the face that was also his did not deserve any of it, not like Anakin did. It was unfair, so unreasonable, yet Anakin sent a heartfelt thank you to the force.

I understand.

"It's over Vader!" he called to his nemesis, riding the small droid still, above the lava banks. "I have the high ground!" he pointed out, willing the man, Sith, whatever, to heed his words. Don't do this to yourself, he mentally pleaded, wondering who he was talking too. Vader or himself.

"You underestimate my power!" Roared the Sith. Anakin shook his head, incredulous, desperate, exhausted. "Don't try it!" he shouted back, hoarsely.

With the listening skills of a disobedient child, Vader tried it anyway. Anakin hoisted his saber in defensive position, closed his eyes, and knew, before it happened, what would occur. The air exploded with an agonized scream, then a thump as something collapsed back to the ground.

Anakin opened his eyes to find Darth Vader without both legs, and only one arm slipping down to the lava below. He inhaled sharply as Vader's pain rippled throughout the force. Blast, every force user in the galaxy should feel it, he reflected, with a shudder.

Vader scrambled at the eroding embankment with his one arm desperately, screaming. Anakin watched him, sultry and parched air making his hair thrash in the breeze. His own feet were slipping deeper into the magma, feet blistering with heat.

Yet he stayed, because where he should have felt victory, he only felt grief. Sith, Jedi, or anything in between, no one should have to die like this.

Anakin could not bring himself to hate his enemy like this. He could not. He felt pity, only. Groaning, screaming and gasping through sobs, Vader tried to pull himself up frantically, but the magma was too fast.

One of his stumps slipped too close to the magma, and a flame flickered. Vader howled with aching, burning agony.

"You were the Chosen One!"

Yes, he was. And in some part he owed it to Vader for taking this fate from him. Anakin's fists clenched. I'm so sorry.

Suddenly, he heard a faint voice cut through his mind and the pain radiating in the force. It was the light personified and dimmed down so that it resided in a person. It was like Qui-gon's rock, smoothed, refined and polished by thrashings and suffering, so that it shone with brilliant splendor.

In short, it was Obi-wan. He turned around, slowly, as if exiting a dream. "Anakin!" The voice was shouting, apparently panicked. "Anakin!" Over the edge of the small mound, Obi-wan suddenly appeared, face streaked with fear. He must have heard the screams and thought it was Anakin who had been defeated.

"I'm here, my master," he called back, calmly, the sentence spouting from the depths of his soul, and leaving a pang that reverberated from head to toe.

He was there; he was alright. He had not turned into Vader; he was not the one below suffering such a fate. I'm here. I'm here. I haven't betrayed you yet. I'm still here.

He touched Obi-wan's mental shields with his mind as Obi-wan scrambled down the bank and landed beside him. Obi-wan sighed in relief, and his blind eyes strayed to Vader.

Anakin felt horror-and unimaginable sympathy-float through the bond. They could both feel his pain. "Anakin, come," Obi-wan commanded gently, tugging his arm. Anakin did not take his eyes away from Vader.

That could have been me.

"Anakin, there's nothing we can do now. We'd both fall in. Come," Obi-wan said, tugging him away. Anakin nodded numbly. Obi-wan was right; there was nothing they could do. All the same, Vader's screams would haunt him forever.

Anakin gripped Obi-wan's arm and allowed his friend to drag him away from the scene. From behind him, Vader screamed out his last farewell, his curse on Anakin and the fate that Vader had taken from him.

"I HATE YOU!" Yes, Anakin assumed he did.

"You were my brother! I loved you!"

"There you two are! Come on, hurry up!" Ahsoka called as Anakin and Obi-wan ran up, gasping for breath. "What about Starkiller and Dooku?" he asked as Ahsoka ran back into the cockpit to start the ship.

"Indisposed, for the moment. They left a slaughterhouse in that facility. All the assumed men of idiosyncratic ideas in Sidious's senate," Obi-wan informed him tightly, shoving him into the ship. Anakin stumbled inside, the hatch closed behind them. He walked to the front and slumped into the pilot's chair, which Ahsoka had left open for him.

Just like old times.

He shook his head and stood. "You take over piloting this time, Snips," he said. Ahsoka gave him an open-mouthed look of shock, but speechlessly obeyed. "Anakin?" Obi-wan asked, hesitantly, as if he were speaking to a caged bantha who, after hours of fighting, was being too still. "Are you alright?"

Anakin slumped into the co-pilot's seat tiredly. He would never forget the sound of Vader's screams. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly. He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's only…" he trailed off. "What?" Ahsoka coaxed, turning worried azure eyes over to him. He smiled dully at her concern.

"The Force…I felt…It was…" He gave up the explanation and settled with an ashamed, quiet: "that could have been me." He expected denial, or outbursts of surprise.

Others would have gone on assuring him that he would never, that he was too good a person, like he was the perfect Jedi… But Ahsoka and Obi-wan, the two who knew him best, remained silent.

Finally, Obi-wan put a hand on his shoulder. "In another life, Anakin, and had a few things gone differently, I imagine it would have," he replied. Anakin looked up and shuddered.

"How do you live with that?" he demanded, softly, devoid of strength. "The knowledge that…It could have been you?" He sighed. Ahsoka had the answer, and she spoke with perfect wisdom, unexpected understanding. "You remember that it wasn't," she replied, with Jedi-like detachment.

And that…That fixed everything. He could have been Vader, but he wasn't. He was Anakin Skywalker. He was still a Jedi, still good; he still had his family, his life. He was still the Chosen One. And…Why in the kriff was he not driving?

"Ahsoka, get out of my seat. Obi-wan; stop brooding and sit down," he ordered, almost diving back to his rightful position in life. As the pilot. "Well, aren't we domineering all of a sudden?" Obi-wan commented, dryly, but a grin was tugging at his mouth.

Ahsoka relinquished control with a graceful bow. "Your seat, master," she presented. "Thank you. Now, do either of you know where the others are?" he asked, settling into his position and tweaking several buttons by instinct. It had been so long since he had piloted a ship.

He was never leaving again.

"Back on Courascant still. The Sith ran off, cowards. Apparently the others are in your," Ahsoka raised her eyebrows. "Mechanics shop?" She demanded.

Anakin gave her a sly grin. "It's Obi-wan's fault," he assured her. Ahsoka harrumphed; affronted that he had began a business of tweaking things without her direct supervision.

"Will that always be your excuse, Anakin? That it's my fault?" Obi-wan asked, alighting the third chair elegantly. "Yep," Anakin replied as he ship began to its slow ascent. Obi-wan sighed. "Some things never change," he observed. Anakin laughed.