Vader stormed into the star destroyer's training room, his body burning alive with anger and hate and guilt after everything he had heard. It felt like lava licking at his arms and legs, the same scorching heat that had ruined him.

There was currently a group of troopers inside practising target shooting who had not sensed him enter. Fuelled with an irrational anger at everyone and everything on his ship, he picked one of them up with the Force and crushed his windpipe, throwing him against the wall as if he were a rag doll.

"Get out!" he thundered, threatening with his hand to kill them all.

They fled instantly, leaving him alone in the cavernous training hall. He turned on the battle simulation and began deflecting bolts from the large cannons and slashing down the floods of droids that were deployed for practice. Plunging his lightsaber into droid after droid, he sliced them into chunks of glowing molten metal that fell to his booted feet with a crash. The light of his saber moved rhythmically in perfect form, circling and slicing with dance-like grace.

A droid he crushed with the Force went hurtling through the air, whilst every bolt he deflected from the cannons flew back to hit the cannon it was shot from with perfect aim. The boiling anger and shame made Vader unstoppable. Releasing all his pent-up energy, he fought until the simulation ended and the supply of droids ran out. He had destroyed all of them. Striding through their remains, he went to press the button to restart the simulation battle, his blood still hot in his veins, but he realised he had destroyed the cannons too. The training room was now a mess of smoking carnage.

Seething in his frustration he stormed out of the room and paced the halls of his ship, feeling restless though his body was now hurting from the exercise. A tremor of pain shot up through his legs, hips and spine, nearly making him stagger. This wretched suit! What he would give for his old body back. With his fists clenched tight he remembered Kenobi. He hated him more than he had ever hated anyone before, it was verging on delirium, on madness. His whole body shuddered with the urge to destroy him in the most excruciating way possible.

It was all his fault! All of it! Everything! Had it not been for him everything would be perfect. He would have his handsome body back, his wife by his side, and his Force powers restored so he could've usurped Sidious years ago. If it had not been for that man, he would have raised his children from babes and not missed out on their childhood. Instead he should be their father, the one his family loved, not someone they feared, not someone they looked upon with hate.

He couldn't think about them. Vader needed another distraction lest everything he had heard his family say would come crashing back over his head. As he walked he remembered his report to the Emperor was due, and so he headed to his chamber to prepare the data, glad to be doing a task that took his mind away from thoughts of them.

The lights embedded in the grey corridors of his ship shone on his dark figure as he stalked passed. It was unusually quiet as most of the men were busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack. It was lucky for them that they were not here. His mood was murderous. Heavy footsteps and rasping breathing were the only sounds he could hear save for the hum and soft beeps of machinery. Despite being on a gargantuan ship full of thousands of lifeforms, Vader felt more alone than ever. He was an outsider to all their lives, including his own family. No one knew him and he didn't know anybody.

After some time, he found himself near the soldier's canteen on his route. Anakin Skywalker had been so close to his soldiers, the 501st. But it had all changed now. Every trooper on his star destroyer was a faceless expendable; just multitudes of men in white armour who threw themselves into battle for him. He had no emotional connection with any of them at all. Whether they lived or died didn't matter to him, so long as he got a victory to report to his master. He remembered the loyalty and bravery of Rex, Echo, Fives… He remembered that Anakin fought alongside them, eating together and sharing camaraderie in the clone wars.

Eating with others was now a distant memory. He couldn't even eat with his family now, lest they wanted to join him in his hyperbaric chamber, to see his repulsive face and suffocate from the high air pressure. It only took the slightest thought to send his emotions spiralling rapidly downward again into a festering pool of shame, self-loathing and immeasurable sorrow. Increasing his pace past the canteen, Vader tried to ignore the sound of his men enjoying their break inside. They had nothing to worry about, all they had to do was follow orders and shoot straight. No one in this whole universe understood what it was like to be him. No one understood how achingly wretched his life had become.

Once he had arrived in his private quarters, Vader delved into his work to distract himself from the conversation he had overheard and the questions the children had asked Padmé. All thoughts of Skywalker's family were replaced by cold hard statistics provided by his lieutenants and captains. He poured over the data for the damage caused by the rebel attack. There was lots to go over, as well as new intel on the rebel's ships, trajectories, numbers and weaponry.

The rebel alliance was a thorn in his and his master's side and he would personally see to their destruction, no matter the cost. The attack on his ship to steal the children had only further entrenched his view that they were all scum. They deserved painful deaths, the whole blasted lot of them.

Hours passed as he went through the information. Last on the report was the involvement of a certain Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi who until now had been listed as missing under the Order 66 elimination act. With a grimace he had to log the status of this enemy as alive on their database and again, missing, though he had a strong suspicion that he was being harboured on Alderaan. Bail Organa had been troublesome ever since the inception of his master's new empire, but there had never been enough evidence of his involvement to arrest him. The senator was also a very popular politician and well loved by his people. To put him behind bars unjustly would only turn Alderaan into a nest of anti-imperial conspirators, more so than it already was. Like fanning flames, his imprisonment would only pose more problems, though he sorely wished he could just kill him and to hell with the consequences.

Vader suspected that Bail and Obi-Wan had worked together organising the attack on his ship, along with Padmé who had been friends with Bail when she was a senator. She had conspired against him to steal the children, betraying him with his enemy…Vader shook his head as clouds of anger bubbled up inside him, threatening his self-control. Focus, he told himself. Stay on the task at hand.

He continued reading Bail's data file, scrolling through the information. The man was one of a handful of people still alive who knew that he used to be Anakin Skywalker in his previous life and this made him feel unsettled, as though he had some power over him that others did not possess. But of course, that was impossible. No one had power over him save for Sidious. No one could harm him now, unlike Anakin, who was harmed by so many throughout his life… Focus!

Looking back at the report, he was angry at himself for letting his thoughts stray. The rebels moved bases frequently and soon Kenobi and Bail could be plotting against him from anywhere in the galaxy. He was itching to get out there and kill him whilst he had the chance and his old master was vulnerable from his injuries, but how could he break his promise to Padmé so soon? She would hate him forever if he acted upon this impulse and the children would never forgive him either.

Obi-Wan loves you so much that he would die for the two of you…

Remembering her words, he put the report to one side with great reluctance. For now, the issue of his old master could wait, though he longed to tear him limb from limb. The Emperor had told him to start a search, but he hadn't give him a time frame. He would give the appearance of searching to please his master and if he was clever, he could keep Obi-Wan safe, as much as he loathed to do so, for now. Like walking on thin ice that cracks and shatters with the slightest misstep, Vader knew he would have be incredibly careful with this matter. Keeping up appearances for his master whilst making sure his family was safe and didn't hate him irrevocably was not going to be easy. But when had he ever had anything easy?

He flicked downward on the datapad. Next to Obi-Wan's name in the file was an unknown woman accomplice who had stayed on the ship, notes included she was being held in a secure chamber with guards. The note included 'political prisoner, unknown status'. It seemed the rebel alliance already knew of her survival. It wouldn't take long for his men to also realise who she was, given how she was in the public light so much when she was a politician. He wouldn't be able to keep her, Luke and Leia locked up in that room forever. Though he couldn't see his trooper's faces, he could see the faces of the higher ranks. Piett had tried to hide his shock when he'd arrived back from the Emperor's ship with two children in tow, no longer prisoners with stun rays to their backs but walking freely by his side.

If he revealed Luke and Leia as his true biological heirs, it wouldn't take much intelligence for his men to put the pieces together. They could very well realise who he had been in his old life, and again he got that unsettled feeling which he was not used to.

This man, Anakin, was a very good and loving man back then. But children, something terrible happened…

Yes, something terrible did happen, he thought bitterly, clenching his fists. You betrayed me and hid from me for nine years.

Shaking his head, he breathed as deeply as his lung apparatus allowed him. If word escaped his ship that he used to be Anakin Skywalker, which it may well do, it would be the news story of the age. Good thing the empire had complete control of mainstream media and news networks. Whoever dared broadcast such news would be eliminated. Still, his men would know and it may affect his reputation. What if his enemies used the information against him? What if somehow the twins were taken and used as blackmail? Would it make him weak? He could never go back to being weak, never.

The dark Lord's head was spinning from everything he suddenly had to think had too much to think about now. The events of the last week had thrown his black and white world into a state of muddy coloured turmoil that he hated. Obi-Wan was right about the twins, they were Anakin's children, not his. But somehow, he couldn't accept that he had no tie to them. It didn't feel right to pretend they weren't his biological offspring when they were.

Finishing up his report, he sent it to his master and checked if there were any other pressing matters to attend to. Finding none, he threw the data pad from him and got up to pace his dark room. Part of him wished his master would send him a sudden mission to the other side of the galaxy just so he could follow orders without having to think too much.

His head was starting to pound painfully with an oncoming migraine. Vader tried to push away thoughts of Padmé, his angel who had broken his heart for a second time. But as always, she occupied his mind like no one else ever could, a stubborn vestige of his old life that refused to leave. His heart had been broken for many years now, but her treachery and lies had finally destroyed it once and for all. When listening to their conversation he was furious at the falsehoods she had fed the children. It was shameless. How could she say such things, talking as though he was dead? He was living and breathing right here. She spoke of how he betrayed the Jedi and everyone who loved him, but didn't she see? Anakin had done it all for her and their children, everything. He didn't choose power over them; it was for them. How could she be so blind?

Before Anakin turned into Darth Vader, he was very excited to be your father. He loved you both so much…

Please don't cry mommy…

He loved you…but when he became Darth Vader he chose power over me and the two of you…. Anakin loved us, but he died when he came Vader. Darth Vader doesn't love us, or anyone else.

Vader threw his desk across the room with the Force, then his chair, then anything else he could find until a pile of broken furniture had collated in the corner of his quarters. Since he had virtually no possessions on his ship, he had nothing else to throw and so he stood there, trembling with rage, feeling his body crying out for rest but his mind was awake with an electric like quality. He was too awake, feeling everything too deeply, as he always had. He didn't even know what he was feeling, just that it was something powerful and he hated it, he hated everything.

One woman, one man and two children. How had they interfered with his life so much that he was unable to keep his composure? How was it possible that the people of Anakin Skywalker's life were following him into his new life of freedom, the life he had created to be focused on restoring order and peace to the galaxy? He wouldn't have it tainted, he wanted them all gone. Their deaths would be so easy to accomplish…but almost as soon as the manic thoughts entered his mind, he knew he couldn't do such a thing. It would truly be the end of his sanity.

Out of nowhere he thought of Anakin's mother, and what she would think of such a thought, of killing his family. Shamefully, he stopped shaking with rage and hung his pounding head. Finding no more distractions, he went into his hyperbolic chamber though he knew he would get no peace.

The black hexagonal dais opened up to reveal his meditation space. Vader stepped into the bright white interior, taking a seat and using the controls to shut the pod. The chamber injected high pressure oxygen into the air and an arm on the ceiling moved down to remove his helmet and mask for him. His scorched lungs were able to breathe without pain and the skin on his face enjoyed fresh cool air, freed from the confines of the heavy helmet. He shut his eyes as relief washed over him like cool water. Living in his suit was an endless misery. Only in his chamber did he feel a touch of reprieve, a ghost of a memory of what he used to feel like. Like a painter who had gone blind or a composer who had gone deaf, he was a ghost of his potential.

Against his will, his mind tortured him with what could've been and he sank further into his sorrow. He saw himself before his injuries, handsome and full of the living Force, more powerful than any Jedi had ever been. Padmé was by his side, smiling and so in love with him. Luke and Leia were there, hugging him around the waist and smiling up at him with adoration. With his raw powers, unmarred by his fight with Obi-Wan, he was able to overthrow the Emperor and he had brought peace to the galaxy. He was the greatest ruler to ever live and the people loved and respected him all across the star systems. All was well and he was happy beyond belief. But he opened his eyes and there he was, a feeble series of stumped appendages and ravaged organs, entombed in a life support suit with a family who hated him, a galaxy who wanted him gone and a master he couldn't overthrow, all because of Obi-Wan.

Again he seethed with how much he hated this man. Stealing his wife, his children, hiding their Force signatures from him, training them to be Jedi, it all made his blood boil. Very quickly his mood swung from melancholy to violent hatred. The very thought that he had touched Padmé made him want to snap his spine. She was his!

But as he was drowning in hate an unwanted counter current moved through the waters of his mind, whispering that Kenobi stepped in and raised them because they were not safe with him. In his anger, he had almost murdered them…

Vader brought his gloved fingers to his face, cutting out the bright white light of his chamber and the unwanted voice in his head. Again, his mood turbulently swung from anger to shame. All these years, he wanted nothing more than to have his Padmé back, and now she was here and he was a father to two children that he thought he'd killed. He should be the happiest man alive, but instead he felt dirty and tainted and a thousand other emotions he couldn't even fathom, except he knew it was all bad. He was disfigured and disgusting with blood on his hands from countless lifeforms he had butchered including their own, or so he had thought until a week ago. Even though the killing had been for the greater good, how could he place a tainted hand on Luke and Leia, on such pure and beautiful children?

Padmé was right to call him a monster, he had almost killed them all in a fit of jealous madness. He could still feel her panic as her throat closed and her pregnant body scrambled for oxygen, becoming limp. Vader couldn't bear to think of it. The shame and guilt were as soul crushing now as they were when he had first awoken in his suit.

Anakin was so lost, he didn't know what he was doing and he…hurt me. He almost killed me. I was in a bad state, but after giving birth to you two Obi-Wan looked after me…

Could he blame Padmé or Obi-Wan for hiding and deceiving him? If he looked deep down inside himself, he couldn't. He just couldn't…

That feeling of drowning in hate came over him again, but this time it wasn't directed at Kenobi. It was a familiar and well-known hatred for himself.

Luke's innocent voice replayed in his mind… Why did he want power so much? Why didn't he want us?

He buried his head in his hands.

Luke and Leia were his future now. Their safety and training were his top priority. If he could focus solely on that and not on Padmé's treacherous lies perhaps he had a chance to make it work. Somehow in some way, he would get through this difficult patch and he and his family would rule together in the future with Obi-Wan dead. But what of the babe currently in Padmé's stomach?

His temper flared at its existence. That child was never meant to be, it had to be destroyed. But again, as he thought of killing the baby, he knew he couldn't commit such an act against Padmé. She would never be herself again and any hope of reconciliation would be lost. As much as he hated her for betraying him, in some way he didn't understand, he could never hurt her like that, despite all the pain she caused him. He had almost cost her her children once from his violence, he wouldn't let himself do that to her again, no matter the circumstances.

Perhaps when it was born, the baby would be sent to an orphanage so it still lived, but it wasn't with him and Padmé, cluttering up their lives.

Sighing into his hands and looking upwards, he leaned back, trying to get some perspective on his situation. Why was everything so difficult for him? Why was it all so unfair?

Gathering his thoughts, Vader rationalised his emotional state. Anyone in his position would be overwhelmed, he told himself firmly. If he just gave it time, perhaps things would fall into place and sort themselves out. If he gave it time, things would become clear. His thoughts drifted, his heart full of anger and sorrow and guilt, but eventually he fell asleep. Cascading down into the murky depths, horrors and shadows chased him. The dark side shifted and flowed about his prone body, the future unfolding in front of him with its many possibilities.