A/N: As usual, thank you to everyone who left kind words on the previous chapter. It means a lot to me!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: CONFRONTATION

They sat crowded together in the transport, and a plan of attack was formulated between them. As could be expected, each of the various ideas put forth revealed a lot about the fighting style of the one who offered it.

Anakin and Ahsoka favoured a full-on assault. Ahsoka succinctly summarised the rationale behind this plan in a few short words: "he won't be able to take all four of us at once."

Obi-Wan, of course, favoured a more peaceful solution. "We can negotiate with him. There does not have to be a fight unless Padmé's life is in immediate danger." A line appeared on his forehead as he obviously remembered hundreds of conversations just like this one between himself and the two younger beings that sat across from him.

Before the trio could launch into an argument, Yoda reminded them all of the most important thing they had to factor into their plans. "Remember who our opponent is," he advised them. "Influenced by the Dark Side, Master Windu may be, but still the same man somewhere inside, there is. To kill him, a last resort, it should be."

In the end, it was decided that Yoda, Anakin and Obi-Wan would deal with Mace Windu, attempting to break his possession without violence and engaging in battle only if necessary. Ahsoka was charged with maintaining the safety of Padmé. Anakin had stressed the importance of ensuring Padmé's escape so much that the young Togruta began to look as if she wanted to escape herself.

Silence fell between them. There was nothing but the soft mechanical sounds of the transport as it ferried them swiftly to their destination.

Yoda watched Anakin carefully, as he'd been doing for the entire duration of the trip. Like Obi-Wan, Yoda knew how volatile Anakin Skywalker could be. He had borne witness to a few explosive outbursts from the young man in the past, and had also heard countless lamentations from Obi-Wan about his former Padawan's unbreakable rebelliousness. However, right now, all Anakin was doing was looking out the window of the transport, his jaw moving as he clenched his teeth and clearly willed the vehicle to move faster. Anakin had wanted to pilot the transport, with assurances that he'd get them to their destination faster than any Clone pilot, but Yoda had refused.

"Focussed on the mission, you must be," Yoda had told him. "Discuss our plans as a group, we must."

Really, Yoda had refused because Anakin was no longer a member of the Jedi Order. There was still a lingering doubt in the Grand Master's mind about the young man's true allegiance. Of course, Yoda wanted to believe that Anakin was still tied to the Light Side of the Force, to the good of the galaxy. But knowing that Anakin worked for the Chancellor (who Yoda had his own veiled suspicions about), and having witnessed the recent news reports, Yoda was being cautious. There was too much at stake not to be.

Anakin hadn't protested – from experience, he must have known there was no point. Anything Yoda said was always the final word on any subject. So, he had remained quiet for a good deal of the journey, speaking to them only when he had to. An expression of solemn determination had remained fixed on his face. He looked paler than usual, and there was a darkness under his eyes.

Yoda broke Anakin from his anxious introspection. "A weapon fit for this fight, do you possess?"

It was a test. Yoda suspected that, based on the nature of Libellia Quark's injuries as reported in the Holo-News reports, Anakin must have some sort of weapon more powerful than a blaster. These suspicions had been confirmed when, as they were walking to the Jedi transport, Yoda had seen the glint of a metal hilt attached to a holster on Anakin's belt. He did indeed have a weapon. Yoda was sure it must have been given to him by the Chancellor, and now he wanted to know if Anakin would keep it a secret. Where did his allegiance lie?

"Master Yoda, I - " For a moment, Anakin hesitated, his hand hovering over the his hip, where the darksaber was concealed under his robe. Yoda watched him carefully. Their eyes met knowingly, and then Anakin reached under the folds of rich black material and proffered the darksaber. "The Chancellor gave me this."

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan appraised the sleek weapon with astonished interest, but Yoda simply nodded his head. "Ah yes. Given a darksaber, you have been."

Anakin then explained to them how the Chancellor had given him the weapon upon first starting to work for him. Then, in a voice a little more arrogant than Yoda would have liked, Anakin revealed how the Chancellor had told him that he needed a weapon like this, one that befitted his status as an accomplished warrior.

"A darksaber?" Obi-Wan toyed with the word. The expression on his face showed that he found it bitter. "How did the Chancellor come across a weapon like this?"

"He didn't tell me how he got it." Anakin returned the weapon to his belt.

"And you didn't ask?" Obi-Wan continued bluntly.

"No. I didn't think to at the time. I had other things on my mind."

Yoda was pensive. "For a man such as the Chancellor, a strange possession this is. More to this story, there must be."

Anakin nodded. He looked away out of the window again. The cityscape was flying past them at rapid speed, and they would be at their destination soon. It didn't seem like he was interested in continuing the conversation until he said, "I don't always feel that he's telling me the full truth."

Obi-Wan frowned. "The Chancellor? What do you mean?"

Anakin shook his head, his eyes trained squarely on the floor. He was clearly wrestling some demons and coming to some unwanted conclusions. "I'm not sure, exactly. I don't have any concrete proof but … I do know that he wants his enemies to be afraid. Afraid of me, and … what I might do to them if he orders me to."

There was a heavy silence in the transport as the three Jedi exchanged glances of concern, and then turned back to Anakin. He either didn't seem to notice or didn't care. His expression was downcast. He was adrift on some vast ocean of emotion, the current taking him out further than he could ever hope to return from.

"The Chancellor is using you, Anakin." It was Obi-Wan who broached the difficult subject. Of course it was – it had to be him. It was the only way. Suddenly, despite the presence of Yoda and Ahsoka, it seemed that he and Anakin were the only ones there. He was suddenly reminded of that other conversation they'd had inside a ship, that one on Naboo oh so long ago when Anakin's most important secret had finally been revealed. That was a lifetime ago. Had things broken beyond repair since then?

Obi-Wan studied his former Padwan as he waited for an answer. The set of Anakin's jaw was hard, as was the expression in his eyes. When he turned to Obi-Wan, soft blue had been replaced with cold steel. "I know what you and the Jedi all think. Don't worry - Padmé thinks it too."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure how to continue. The young man in the cockpit back then had been a dear friend desperate for help. Now it seemed history was repeating itself. This was not the time to alienate Anakin again – not when he was so close to a turning point. In the end, Obi-Wan replied with an inconclusive, "let's discuss this later."

Anakin's face clearly showed that he was not very interested in that. He unclenched his jaw and suddenly turned his body in the uncomfortable seat, so he faced Obi-Wan and the other two Jedi properly. "I know what you all think." The steeliness had left his eyes. There was a loaded pause. "And … I think that you're right."

"That the Chancellor is abusing your power?" Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin nodded, one quick, singular, tense gesture. This was not easy for him. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin Skywalker did not admit when he was wrong. When you saw life through the eyes of the so-called Chosen One, you very rarely viewed any of your actions as flawed. Obi-Wan continued to think about how much his former Padawan had changed.

"He wants to make his enemies fear him," Anakin repeated. "And I don't want to do that. It would be to live outside the teachings of the Jedi - I won't use my power for that purpose. Not after … Well, anyway, I told him that, and that I no longer wished to work for him."

Obi-Wan was a mixture of emotions. There was astonishment at Anakin's confirmation of the Chancellor's true nature - he knew that several Jedi, himself and Master Yoda included, had long harboured suspicions against the man. There was also relief - and, dare he say it, joy – at the thought of Anakin being finally freed from the Chancellor's clutches. He didn't know what was next for Anakin's future, but it seemed right now to be a little brighter.

"Take your departure lightly, the Chancellor surely did not." Yoda had been silently ruminating on all that had been said, but now his croaky voice reminded Obi-Wan that it wasn't just Anakin here with him in the transport.

"What did he say when you told him?" asked Ahsoka.

"I didn't get a proper chance," Anakin admitted. "As I was telling him how I felt he attacked me."

"So, what will you do?" Obi-Wan pressed. Ever since Obi-Wan had learned of Anakin's new role, he had privately been wishing that Anakin would see the metaphorical light and resign. It seemed that Obi-Wan's wish was perhaps about to come true.

"I don't know." Anakin shrugged off Obi-Wan's question as if it affected him a lot less than Obi-Wan knew it did. As if he wasn't still lost out at sea, struggling to keep his head above the water. "I don't think I'll be working for the Chancellor anymore, but I don't know what my options are beyond that. It's not like I can just, you know…"

The rest of his sentence, along with the conversation itself, was cut off abruptly. The transport had begun to descend.

"Arrived, we have." Yoda's voice was grave.

OOOOO

The sense of the Dark Side was clear to them all even before they entered the warehouse. The place that Mace had taken Padmé was an older building. The metal walls were rusted and the business signs on the outside were faded beyond recognition. Nobody had been there in a very long time.

The main entrance to the warehouse was a large automatic door. To regular passers-by (of which there were hardly any in an entire year), the door was sealed firmly shut. To one with the knowledge of the Force, however, the door lifted as easily as if it were made of paper.

The four of them ducked underneath the door, Anakin leading the charge. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the entranceway, however, he stopped dead in his tracks.

This was the place from his nightmares. This was the place he had seen Padmé die.

Any colour that had remained in his face drained away. Beads of moisture on his upper lip and forehead shone in the thin ray of light that broke through a hole in the ceiling, before he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"Are you alright?" Ahsoka asked softly.

"I've seen this place before."

"In a vision?"

Anakin nodded.

"What happened?" Ahsoka pressed.

Anakin said nothing. He just moved forward down the corridor, past the dust-filled offices, towards the door that led into the main section of the factory.

He could hear her. She was calling his name in the Force.

And he had to save her before it was too late.

OOOOO

The four of them strode through the double-doors that Anakin had blasted open with the Force. Each of them wore a look of determination. Each of them exuded an aura of pure power.

None more-so than Anakin.

At first, Padmé's voice had been only in his head. He'd felt her calling to him through the Force connection they shared, but it had only been a few words repeated over and over: "Anakin, I'm here."

Now, though, as his boots tracked a path through the endless maze of machinery that filled the room, Anakin could hear his wife's cries echoing against the walls.

"Anakin! Anakin, I'm here!"

"Padmé!"

And then he was running, and the three Jedi behind him were sprinting to keep up. Even Yoda, despite his diminutive size, kept pace with the group as their feet pounded across the metal floor and their robes streamed out behind them.

"She's over here!" Anakin pointed towards a metal doorway along the back wall of the room. "Through this door!"

Anakin held his hand out, ready to blast this door open with the Force as he'd done with all the others. Before he could, though, he felt Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder.

"No. Wait."

Anakin threw off his old friend's touch and whirled around to face him. His eyes were hard steel again. "For what? Padmé's in there, Obi-Wan. She's in terrible danger, too. I-I've seen it."

"I know you have," Obi-Wan nodded gravely. "But charging in there is exactly what Windu expects us to do. At the very least, it's exactly what he expects you to do."

Anakin was panting, not with the exertion of running but with the effort of stopping himself from bursting through the door anyway. He turned away from Obi-Wan, facing the door again. If he went through there now, he could save her. He was so close. So close.

The dragon inside him roared that he didn't need them. He had never needed them. He was Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi of Legend. He could do it all himself. He could save her himself.

But then he remembered the vision. He remembered the cold metal room that Padmé had been in, and he remembered how she had died. And he had been the only one there.

He jumped back from the door as if he'd been burned, throwing his arm behind him as he did. His hand clenched into a fist and his mouth became one hard, thin line. He turned back to the three Jedi behind him. Yoda's expression was neutral, while Ahsoka's eyes were wide with concern.

Obi-Wan, though, looked patient. "We'll do it together, Anakin," he said gently. "We'll rescue her together."

And Anakin knew that he meant it. After all of these years, after all of the recent trouble, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan would always mean it when he offered his help. He wiped the sweat from his brow again. "Alright. We'll go slowly."

Carefully, Obi-Wan reached out and tried the handle of the door. It was unlocked. Stepping through, he gestured back at the others, who followed him inside quietly.

Their entrance had not made a sound, and they remained cloaked in the darkness of the room. There was not a single point of light anywhere. And, despite the overwhelming feeling of the Dark Side surrounding them, the four of them knew that Mace Windu was not there.

"Hidden himself, he has," Yoda croaked softly. "Find him in the shadows, we must."

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both nodded at Yoda's statement, despite the darkness obscuring their vision of each other. Anakin, though, did not hear what the Grand Master had said. He was already across the other side of the room, his arms wrapped tightly around his wife.

Neither Anakin nor Padmé spoke at first, not wanting to draw Mace's attention to them. They just lost themselves in the feel of each other, apart for what seemed like a lifetime but finally reunited. Despite everything happening over a few short moments, to Anakin, that moment of reunion with his wife lasted an eternity in its pleasure.

"I'm sorry, Padmé." Anakin's words were a tumbled murmur. "I'm so sorry. We're going to get you out of here immediately."

"Anakin, you have to leave." Padmé's voice was a shout she had to strangle back down to a whisper. "You all have to leave. It's a trap. He wants you to fight him, and something terrible is going to happen if you do."

"What do you mean?"

But, before he could hear Padmé's answer, the room was suddenly illuminated with the terrible purple glow of a lightsaber's blade. The blade cut through the darkness, almost touching Padmé's throat, before it was stopped by the strength of Anakin's own. His reflexes had been quicker than lightning, and the two blades crashed together like the sound of it. In the background, the black and purple blades were joined by three others: two blue, one green.

"Let her go!" Anakin roared. He had been crouching beside his wife, but now he moved into a standing position, pushing back against Mace's attack as he rose. Quickly on his feet, he engaged Mace in battle, the two of them sparring across the length of the small room, Anakin flanked by the three Jedi that had accompanied him.

Mace's expression was a terrible twisted grin of pleasure as he attacked all four of his enemies in turn. Anakin dodged a blow that would have taken off his head, and then Mace's blade came crashing against Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan fought with him solo for a few moments, before Mace suddenly turned and began to fight with Yoda. Yoda nimbly darted through the air, his green blade moving so fast that it was at times hard to see. Ahsoka was able to get in a few swipes of her own saber from behind, forcing Mace to alternate between her attacks and Yoda's. Each attacker was careful never to land a killing blow, as (to the three Jedi, at least), it was still their aim to rid Mace of his possession rather than destroy him.

"No!" Padmé cried. She struggled against her restraints, the sound of the metal chain against the floor akin to credits being spilled onto a counter. "Don't fight him! It's what he wants! It's part of his plan!"

"Silence!" Mace roared, in a voice that was very much not his own. He moved around his attackers as if they were just more discarded machinery. Then, he raised a hand and, to the horror of the four that had come to rescue her, sent a blast of red Force Lightning towards Padmé. Anakin and the others scrambled to block it, but their surprise had made them just a second too slow. Padmé was hit with the full force of the blast, its evil red forks enveloping her body. She screamed once, the most horrible sound Anakin had ever heard in his life, and then became silent and still. Their connection in the Force severed as if it was a thread cut by scissors.

And then Anakin, oh, Anakin became the dragon.

If Padmé couldn't live, then neither would he. Neither would Mace, and neither would anyone who tried to stop him striking down the man who had once been a Jedi Master but had now become something so twisted and vile.

Anakin became his power. He became his rage. Nothing anyone said to him would stop him. He heard the shouts of Obi-Wan and Yoda, heard them telling him not to kill Mace, that they could still break the possession, but he didn't care. Time and time again black blade met purple. The two men fought with no light but that of the sabers, but they didn't need to see each other to know exactly what to do. They were almost an even match, despite Mace's newfound abilities to tap into the Dark Side of the Force. Anakin deflected another burst of lightning onto the wall next to him, where it scorched the metal with an awful sizzling sound. The room was small but it still provided them with ample space to fight. Anakin was oblivious to Yoda and Obi-Wan, who were both motionless in the corner, their eyes closed and their hands outstretched, both become one with the Force.

Anakin's fighting style had always been one that took advantage of his pure, brutal strength, one that was comprised mainly of attack moves. Again and again he swung his blade over his head, meeting Mace's with a horrible grating sound. He dodged Mace's counterattacks effortlessly, moving through the space of the room as if performing a choreographed dance. The deadliest dance in the universe.

If he could only disarm him, then it would make the killing so much easier. Several times Anakin's blade had come close to severing one of Mace's hands, but Mace had always dodged the attack just in time. Anakin tried again and again to force Mace to concede defeat, but Mace always retaliated.

The fight lasted a million years, and only a minute. After a time, Mace seemed to be weakening. His attacks slowed, as did his defence. At one point, Anakin's blade touched lightly across the side of Mace's hip, scorching the material there. Mace barely reacted.

Anakin didn't think Mace would be tiring from the fight, but he didn't care. If it meant he could win, Anakin welcomed whatever was causing Mace's sudden loss of strength. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Within a few moments, Mace was pushed into a corner of the room. Anakin's blade - pure, dark energy - buzzed at his throat. Mace's purple saber lay harmlessly on the floor, kicked by Anakin towards Ahsoka, who picked it up quickly. She was crouched down beside Padmé, who remained pale and still and terribly, permanently dead.

"Yes, yes, tap into that rage!" Mace was laughing. In the dim light afforded by the saber, Anakin could see how he looked deranged. "Unleash your full potential!"

"I will destroy you," Anakin warned, and he meant it. He did not care about the teachings of the Jedi. He would not stop for anything in the galaxy.

Until –

"No, Anakin! Don't do it. It's what he wants. It's how you'll fall to the Dark Side."

It was her voice. Padmé's. Weak, feeble, full of pain, but still, it was her voice. She was alive.

The sound of Padmé's voice cut through the jagged roars of the dragon as it urged him to finish Mace off once and for all. Anakin's stance faltered for a split-second.

Alive? But surely …

Anakin didn't dare move, as Mace was still pinned in the corner and both Obi-Wan and Yoda seemed to be lost to their strange meditation. He glanced at them for a split-second and saw that their mouths moved, but no sound came out.

"The blast of lightning wasn't enough to kill her." Ahsoka's voice rose up to him from the floor where she remained beside Padmé. "She's just unconscious again. I can feel her breathing."

And Anakin could feel her again in the Force. Her gentle presence was fuzzy and dim around the edges, but it was there. She was alive. The vision had not happened as he had originally been shown. And then the dragon was gone and he was Anakin again, and he had a sudden terrible awareness of just what he had been about to do. He took the slightest step backwards, the darksaber still pointed at Mace but no longer aiming a killing strike at his throat.

"Why did you not kill her?" Anakin demanded. "Wasn't that the whole point of your sick plan?"

Mace's expression was visible in the glow of the darksaber for a moment. It, just like Anakin's, was full of nothing but confusion. "I don't understand how she survived. She's not a Force User – that amount of Force Lightning should have killed her." He frowned, then the lines on his face smoothed. "Well, never mind. That was only one plan. Granted, it was the easiest, but there are other ways to make you see the truth."

"What do you mean? Why do you want her dead? Why not kill me instead - I'm the real threat."

Mace shook his head with a laugh. In the dim light his eyes shone bright red. "You are not a threat to me, Skywalker. You are an asset. The greatest asset in the galaxy."

"Who are you?"

The being pretending to be Mace laughed again. "I'm something far more powerful than this crude excuse for a Jedi Master." The last two words dripped with loathing. "I am The Son. I am the Force itself. And I am here to correct your destiny."

And suddenly, as Mace's now-unconscious body fell to the floor, there rose a monstrous being of immense power and darkness. The being had cold, blood-red eyes and a cruel, unsmiling mouth. Most frightening of all, though, was the absolute evilness that emanated from every part of it.

Anakin spared a tortured glance at Padmé and Ahsoka. They seemed to be frozen in place – Padmé slumped forward against the wall, Ahsoka with her hand still holding Padmé's wrist. Ahsoka was staring at the terrible being with wide, unblinking eyes. He glanced at Obi-Wan and Yoda. They too remained unmoving, but as Anakin moved backwards away from the terrible monster before him, darksaber still ignited in his hand, he saw Yoda give him a minute, knowing nod.

"What is my destiny?" Anakin demanded. "What is it that will make me an asset to something as terrible as you?"

The Son moved towards him. Anakin noticed that the being did not walk, as he did, but instead seemed to glide over the ground. "You will rule the galaxy."

"What?"

"You will bring balance to the Force. Balance will come at the expense of the Jedi, those short-sighted old monks who do not appreciate your true power."

"No."

"Yes!" The Son's red eyes glittered with anticipation. "Yes. I have seen it all. I have willed it to be! You will join me, and together we will purge the galaxy of the weakness of the Light Side of the Force. You will be the most powerful being there ever was!"

"You're lying!" Anakin shouted. "I will not listen to lies from the Dark Side!"

The Son smiled. "Not lies. Just things that have not happened yet. Things that will happen, however, when you are set back on your correct course. The Dark Side is your destiny, Anakin Skywalker. Let me show you."

Before he could protest, the Son's hand was on his shoulder. And then they were not in the factory. They were nowhere at all.

OOOOO

They were in a white void. Anakin turned around in a full circle but saw nothing but the Son standing in front of him, smiling cruelly, everywhere he turned his head.

"What is this place?"

"Does it really matter? All that matters is that you believe me when I tell you about your destiny."

Suddenly, their surroundings changed. Anakin and the Son were standing on the bridge of some enormous warship. Around them, various soldiers and commanders went about their allocated business, all wearing grey uniforms. The view from the large glass window in front of them showed a battle scene. Smaller ships on fire streaked past theirs, and Anakin knew without asking that they belonged to the enemy.

Suddenly, a short woman came hurrying up to them. Her lofty rank was indicated with the many coloured bars pinned proudly to her chest. "My Lord Vader." She addressed him without looking him directly in the eyes. "The enemy are retreating."

Anakin said nothing. He had no idea what was going on.

"The planet is ours," the woman continued. Her demeanour indicated that this was the treatment she was used to from him. "Another system under our control, one that will experience peace, like all the others."

Still Anakin remained silent, and in the end, the woman simply hurried away.

Anakin turned to the Son with a glare. "What are you showing me?"

The Son smiled. "Your future. Your Empire."

"My Empire?"

"Yes. Isn't that what you've always wanted? What you've always known you were destined for?"

Anakin just stared at The Son in horrified silence, so he continued. "You're the Chosen One, destined to bring the galaxy together under one common Empire and gift every planet with peace for eternity."

Anakin's eyes returned to the window, where he saw a fleet of what must be his own ships, yellow insignias painted on their sides, deftly taking down another large enemy destroyer. What frightened him the most was not the brutal nature of what was happening around him. What frightened him the most was how much it appealed to him.

The dragon began to take him over again, and in this strange place that was not a place, Anakin felt quite powerless to stop it. This was where he knew his path would take him. He had always known it, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. He had been destined for something more than the Jedi, more than the Republic. Someone with his power could do nothing less than found their own Empire. Under his rule, the galaxy would have an eternity of peace. Balance would be brought to all, the prophecy fulfilled.

But then he remembered the Son's words from before: 'balance will come at the expense of the Jedi.' Did that mean …

"What happens to the Jedi?"

"They are gone," the Son said simply.

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"So there are no other Force Users at all?"

"No."

"What about the Sith?"

"They are gone as well."

Balance. How was that balance? The Sith were gone, but so were the Jedi. How could there be balance if he was the only Force User left? A scale did not have only one side.

"What happened to all of them?"

The Son, who had been watching the burning battleships with disinterested eyes, turned to Anakin again. "Surely you know."

A cold feeling crept up Anakin's spine. Yes, he did know. Suddenly, he knew everything. But he wanted to hear the Son confirm it himself. "I killed them, didn't I?"

The Son smiled darkly. "Yes."

"So there is nobody who could oppose me?"

"Of course not."

"And what about the people in my Empire. Do they love me? Or … do they fear me?"

The Son smirked. "What good is a load of sycophants?"

Anakin's jaw clenched. The terrible coldness that had started in his spine had now taken over his entire body. He wanted to bring peace, but this Empire of the future contained nothing but tyranny. By purging the Jedi, he had ordered the deaths of his own friends. He had rid the galaxy of any of the Force's goodness. How many other beings had he killed as well? And how many others wanted to kill him?

And there was one other thing he needed to know. The thought seemed to be blurred, as if someone had purposely gone in and removed a good deal of his memories. Anakin closed his eyes, focussing hard on this all-important thought. This was the most important question of all.

"Where is Padmé?"

"Who?"

"Padmé. My wife. Where is she?"

The Son shook his head. "She's dead."

"W-what?"

The Son seemed indifferent to his pained response. "In this future, she was killed by me, in that warehouse on Coruscant. Well, to you, she was actually killed by Mace Windu, but it was me pulling the strings."

"Why?"

The Son looked out the window again. "In this version of the future, you needed a catalyst to fall to the Dark Side. That catalyst was your wife's death. When you thought that a Jedi Master – and a Jedi Master that you didn't particularly like to begin with – had killed your wife, you were ready for bloody vengeance. You killed Mace, renounced all ties to the Jedi, and fled. You were then fully open to all of the power I could bring you, and alongside the Chancellor, your Empire was born."

"The … the Chancellor? What has he got to do with all of this?"

"He's been working with me from the beginning. But that doesn't matter now – he's long gone at this point anyway."

"Do you mean …"

"Yes. You killed him too. The Chosen One doesn't need to share his Empire with anyone."

Anakin plunged to his knees. His strength had failed him. So this was his future. This was the culmination of everything he'd done in his life: terror and pain. Everyone he loved gone, all of their deaths his own fault.

"This can't be true," Anakin groaned. "It can't be. I won't let it."

The Son looked down at him with disgust. "Get off your knees. Someone such as you does not show weakness like that."

Anakin rose to his full height shakily. "This is not the future that I want … I will do anything, please. Please just stop this from happening."

The Son shook his head. "All of your futures lead to this. Every single one. The Dark Side is where you belong. It is your fate."

"No!" Anakin shouted. He turned around, waiting for the people on the bridge to respond, but they didn't. They went about their business as if he and The Son weren't there. "I will never join you!"

"Not even if I can save your wife?"

Anakin paused. "W-what do you mean?"

"Your nightmares. Visions. Dreams. Whatever you want to call them. You've been having them about your wife's death, haven't you? Just like you had them about your mother."

Anakin nodded.

"Even if Padmé does not die at my hand, or Mace Windu's, she will still die young. It is not her fate to live, and that is simply the will of the Force. It would have happened even if I had not tried to manipulate it to occur sooner."

"Another lie," Anakin muttered. "I can save her."

"No, you can't. Nobody can. If it's the will of the Force, nobody can change it." The Son paused, looking at Anakin's desperate expression with relish. "Except a being of the Force, like me."

Anakin remained silent, waiting for an explanation. He felt as if the floor underneath had been replaced with the waves of an ocean, and he was about to sink to his own death. In a way, he welcomed it. In a way, it was what he deserved.

"I can change your wife's fate," the Son continued. "I can make it so that she lives out a long and happy life with you, by your side. You can have the life with her that you've always wanted. You can have the children that you know she craves."

Anakin watched the Son's face carefully, searching for any tell of a lie. There were none. Still, he did not want to believe what this monster was telling him. He didn't want to believe that to save someone so pure, he would have to stain himself so darkly in the process. "And how can you do that?"

"That does not matter. The ways of the Force are mysterious, but they can be manipulated by those who are strong enough. All you must do is pledge your allegiance to the Dark Side, and your wife will be spared."

Suddenly, Anakin heard a familiar voice calling his name. He and the Son both turned and watched as Padmé, dressed in a magnificent black gown edged with gold, came towards them. She stopped beside him, a smile on her face. He saw, his heart in his throat, that she was pregnant.

"Anakin, I heard the news about the defeat of Corellia. I'm so proud of you and all that you've done for the galaxy," she said. One hand came to rest reassuringly on his forearm, and her other hand entwined with his and guided it to her belly. She smiled at him as his eyes widened, feeling the movement of a new life under his hand. "They're so active today," she laughed.

"T-they?"

Padmé laughed again. "Wow, you must be exhausted, Ani. You didn't forget about the twins, did you?"

"T-twins?"

Padmé's brow furrowed. "Of course. Our two little boys." She studied his face for a moment, her brown eyes concerned. "Perhaps you should get some rest, Anakin. The battle's over. Come and lie down with me. I'll be waiting in our chamber for you."

Two sons? No, that was not quite right, was it? Because he was supposed to have a daughter. He knew in his very soul that he did, that one day he would hold a little girl in in his arms with eyes the same as her mother's. No, this wasn't right at all.

Padmé turned and began to walk back the way she had come. She paused as someone cut in front of her path, and Anakin heard someone chide "make way for the Empress."

He turned back to the Son, reeling. "This can't be true. Padmé would never … she would never accept a regime such as this …"

"Everyone is capable of change," replied the Son nonchalantly. "Besides, she has spent her entire life fighting for peace. Who says she wouldn't accept it even if it had to be won by force?"

"No," he murmured. "That's not Padmé. That's not my wife."

"It could be," the Son replied. "All of this could be yours. You and your wife, ruling the galaxy. Two strong, healthy sons to continue your legacy. All you've ever wanted, all you have to do is just say the word. Just think of how proud she would be of you. What a noble occupation to devote your life to."

Anakin gasped for breath. The bridge felt like it was spinning around him. "No! I don't want this! I don't want any of this!"

The Son's red eyes narrowed. "Is that your final choice? To let your wife die? To give up on your destiny?"

"I … I can save her," Anakin gasped. "I'll find a way to save her. It doesn't have to be like this!"

Red eyes narrowed further. "Yes, it does. This is the only way."

Anakin's blue eyes had the hardness of steel. "No it isn't."

Suddenly, a blade was ignited in his hand. He looked down, surprised, and saw that it was the familiar blue of his lightsaber. He would know this blade anywhere. He had constructed it with his own two hands.

The Son growled, his own Sith-red blade in his grip. They leaped towards each other, their blades clashed, and the bridge of the warship disappeared.

Again, they were inside the white void of nothingness from before. Again, their blades struck against each other. Again, Anakin fought with every ounce of strength he had ever had. He fought with a desperation that made him almost wild, able to execute feats that went beyond even his already highly-skilled range.

The Son fought back with the same level of ferocity, but he was losing ground quickly. Several times Anakin brought him almost to his knees. There was a lightness inside himself that he'd never felt before. Once, it had been the dark dragon that had given him this strength, but now he felt an altogether different source of power within.

As he fought, Anakin thought only of how he could rid himself of such a terrible future. He knew that despite what the Son had shown him and the monster's assurances of truth, it had been a lie that this future was a good thing. Anakin knew he may become an Emperor, a god amongst the mortals of the galaxy, but he would be hated. He would be feared. And that woman who had come to him on the bridge, she had looked just like Padmé, but she had been a lie as well. Anakin knew that his wife would rather die by his own hand than support a regime of tyranny. Peace that was won through terror was not her idea of peace at all.

So he fought, his body covered in sweat, his eyes wild, his movements a blur of fluid motion. He fought to save the galaxy from that future. He fought to save himself from a fall into darkness. He fought to change his fate.

"I will never join the Dark Side!" Anakin's blade once again crashed down on the Son's from above. "I would die first before that happened."

The Son laughed as he dodged another of Anakin's strikes. "So be it. I know now that the Jedi were right when they said it was a prophecy misread. You are not the Chosen One after all. I see that clearly."

"I don't care if I'm the Chosen One or not," Anakin shouted. "I'm done with prophecies. I only want to do what's right, and save the galaxy from filth like you!"

"Your days of saving the galaxy from anything are over, pathetic Skywalker. I only wish I had seen all of this sooner, and not wasted such time on my plans for you. I know that there will be another chance to find my true apprentice, perhaps sooner than we all think. There will be another such as you. That is the Will of the Force as well."

Anakin barely registered anything the Son was saying, so focussed was he on just trying to defeat him. He was fighting with all of his strength but he could still not land that killing blow. There seemed to be something about the Son that was unkillable, and for the first time since they had engaged in battle, Anakin began to have doubts about how the fight would end.

They fought on and on. To Anakin, the fight lasted a minute, and it lasted an eternity. It had just started, and it was close to the end.

He began to tire. The Son chuckled monstrously as he realised, and began to land blows that Anakin almost couldn't counteract. He kept going, somehow. Despite how every bit of strength he had ever had seemed to have disappeared from his body, he kept going. He would not let that future become real. He had tasted what it felt like to dip into that well of dark power, and he did not like the taste. Ever since he had taken a life in cold blood under the Chancellor's command, Anakin had been longing to wash his hands clean of stains that never seemed to disappear.

And then, the worst happened. Anakin missed a dodge, and suddenly, the tip of the Son's red blade coursed straight through him.

He seemed to collapse in slow motion, strangely aware of the fact that although this was a killing blow, he was not dead. As he fell to the floor that was not a floor, the only thought Anakin had was that now he had saved the galaxy from that terrible, terrible future showed to him by the Son. If he was dead, his Empire could not rise.

Perhaps I did fulfill the prophecy, he thought, as his body hit the ground. Perhaps I am the Chosen One after all.