Chapter Twenty-One

The corridors are narrow and dank, illuminated dimly with flickering torchlight. On the ground, the bodies of those he's slain in the past lay at my feet. Men, women and children. The carnage is endless.

I navigate my way around their prone forms as quickly as I can. My heart is pounding. The damp, mossy walls seem to push in on me as I feel my way blindly through the winding tunnels. I move with panicked haste, stumbling over corpse after corpse.

Bile rises in my throat. I don't study their faces closely. I can't mourn them. There isn't time because I know he is close behind. I know that I am next.

I can sense him gaining ground, closing the distance. The heavy thuds of his bootsteps click ominously against the cobblestone floor, echoing through the cavernous halls. The steady whoosh of his respirator punctuates the silence in between his steps, dogging my heels with each desperate turn I make.

He's hunting me now, just as I had once hunted them with the Inquisitorious at my side. Unremitting and without mercy. They had been unable to hide from me, not even in the furthest, darkest corners of the galaxy.

Now the predator has become the prey. I can feel the terror they must have felt, the desperation. There is an inescapable awareness that I am trapped, that no matter where I run or hide, he will never stop coming until he finds me…and he will find me.

But I cannot give up. I will not. Not when salvation is so close. If I can make it back there, then I can be safe. Then I can stop him. I can stop it all.

I follow the path by memory as if I've made the journey a hundred times before. In truth, it has only been once. The steps are strangely mapped in my memory, nonetheless. I never imagined I would find myself back here again. But the ancient relic calls to me, beckons me like a gleaming beacon in the darkness. I know I must make it there before him. I must harness its incredible power before he can ever lay his hands on it.

When I finally burst into that sacred space, my triumph over having beaten him there is short-lived. He is already waiting there, blocking my way, his crimson blade ignited and ready for combat. It is strange to behold him this way, as if perceiving his imposing presence from an outsider's point of view. His looming height, his dark, forbidding armor, the menace concealed behind his obsidian mask… Even being fully cognizant of the broken man housed inside, Darth Vader still presents as a terrifying figure.

Tendrils of fear shiver down my back even as I ignite my own lightsaber and charge him with a low, battle cry. Because, even as I'm filled with dread, I won't run from him. Our lightsabers clash, red and blue crisscrossing in a dizzying whirl. I am fast but somehow, he is faster.

He knows me. He is me. And so, he anticipates my every strike, mimics it, and then counters with a familiar one of his own. I cannot defeat him and yet, I cannot allow him to defeat me either.

"Only though the dark side can you truly destroy me, Skywalker," he taunts, his words rumbling deeply through the vocabulator, "Use it! Fulfill your destiny!"

I slash at him blindly, rage filling me, overwhelming me. Never! Never again! I've left that life behind and I will never go back to it!

Vader sneers at me. He feeds on my anger. Grows stronger because of it. The rhythmic ebb and flow of his mechanical breathing becomes deafening. Louder and louder until I can hear nothing else. The room begins to spin. I close my eyes, clamp my hands over my ears but still the sound remains, reverberating in my brain. Reverberating inside of me.

And then, without warning, it stops, replaced by a low, delighted cackle. A sound of pure evil. I know that sound. When I look again, Vader is gone now. The cowled figure of my former master stands in his place.

I barely have time to react to his presence, to defend myself before he's running me through. Impaling me on the burning hilt of his blade, his sulfurous yellow eyes boring into mine as my entire being erupts in pain. I expect to fall at his feet. Part of me welcomes the thought of death. But I don't fall.

When I look down my gaping wound is replaced with that familiar paneled breastplate, my hands are incased in those durable black, leather gloves once more. The smooth whooshing sound of the respirator returns and this time I realize that it is coming from me. I am in the suit once again. I am Vader. I realize then that I never escaped.

Sidious cackles again, delighted by my horrified realization. Of course, he's always known. "The darkness brought you here, my son," he croons in satisfaction, "Did you really believe it would ask back nothing in return?"

I awaken with a sharp gasp, my entire body damp with perspiration, my heart pumping solidly in my throat. Night has fallen and it is eerily quiet now. The sandstorm has finally abated, the strident winds from earlier having died down at last. My bedroom is dark except for the filtered moonlight that spills down from the skylight above. Thankfully, Padmé continues to sleep soundly. She lies sprawled haphazardly across my abdomen, her beautiful face obscured by her spilling mop of dark curls.

Any other time I might have awakened her with sweet kisses and coaxed her into more lovemaking, but that is far from my mind right now. I'm too disturbed by the dream to concentrate on anything else, even her. My heart rebels at the thought because I don't want anything to tarnish these precious moments with her. But even as I lie there in the darkness and try valiantly to force myself back to sleep, to be comforted by the weight of Padmé's soft body resting atop my own, sleep refuses to come. Eventually, I finally accept that it won't.

With a despondent sigh, I grudgingly begin easing myself from beneath Padmé, my breath suspended as I carefully try to extricate myself from her light hold without rousing her. I know if I remain in bed that my restlessness will eventually wake her. I can't risk that possibility. I don't want to talk about what I've just seen.

After pulling on my pants, I escape out onto the rooftop into the cool, desert air, shirtless and shoeless. The starlit sky above me twinkles brilliantly in the blue-black backdrop of endless space. I remember a time when I had wished with childish fervor to be up there among those stars. Now, I wish that I had never left this dusty rock at all.

I'm disturbed by the dream. While I can't interpret absolutely what it means it seems rather clear that I will ultimately face Sidious again. And, in doing so, I will lose myself in the process too. Just as a tiny piece of Anakin had always lived inside of Vader, it seems a tiny piece of Vader will always reside inside of me. In every life, in every iteration it seems, I am destined to fall.

At first, I'm grieved and confused by the realization because I've tried so hard to be better than what I had been. To make better choices, not only for myself but for those I love. And then I'm enraged. I'm filled with it. Wild, unfettered rage with Sidious. With the Force. But mostly with myself because I had been foolish enough to even hope for something better in the first place.

What was it Sidious had asked me in the dream? Had I really believed that I would be asked nothing in return? It was a valid question, after all. One I hadn't allowed myself to contemplate before now because I had feared the answer.

I have no choice but to consider it now. I'm on the cusp of achieving everything I have ever wanted. I have my mother again and a new family as well. I have Padmé currently sleeping in my bed. I've even regained Obi-Wan and Ahsoka somehow. Even further, I've broken the chains that kept me tethered to the Jedi Order. All that is left is for me to sever my slave ties to Sidious once and for all and then…then I would know absolute freedom. Or so I had believed.

In hindsight, I can see how believing I could gain all of that for nothing was stupidity on my part. One way or another, I will always pay the same steep price for my happiness. It will always cost me my soul.

That is the stark truth of it all. To destroy the Sith, to stop this war, I will have to destroy myself. In that regard, it seems there can be no future for me. No marriage or babies or growing old together. No nieces or nephews or family memories to be made. No reminiscing over old times with old friends. I am here to serve one purpose and then, perhaps, become one with the Force. Maybe that is what it means to be the Chosen One.

"Lucky me."

I don't realize that I'm mourning, weeping over the utter futility of my own existence until I feel the wetness of my tears dripping against my bare chest. I wish I could talk to Obi-Wan right now. Perhaps, he could help me make sense of what feels so painfully hopeless to me. But as soon as the thought occurs to me, I dismiss it. Obi-Wan likely won't have the answers either. He'll only offer polite, well-meaning Jedi platitudes but he won't be able to provide me any real comfort. He won't be able to convince me that I might escape this fate after all…

At the last second, I realize what I'm doing, and I stop myself, suddenly, I'm determined not to obsess over it, as I obsessed over preventing Padmé's death in those last, gasping days of the Republic. I had spent those priceless, waning days sequestered away in the Jedi archives, scouring holocron after holocron for a way to avert her death when I should have been with her preparing for the birth of our child, savoring every single second we had left together. I won't make the same mistake this time. If these moments with her are destined to be my last, then I plan to make each one count for something.

If I learned anything from my miserable tenure as Vader, it was that. Time is the most precious commodity a person has. And it's foolish to waste it. After being given this second chance, I would be foolish to waste it.

Feeling resolved on the matter, I'm about to make my way down below to wake Padmé after all when I realize that she is already awake and rifling around downstairs. "Ani?" she calls out, "Where are you?"

I peek down at her through the open skylight. "I'm on the roof. What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she says before throwing me a careless smile and starting up the rusted ladder to join me.

I'm there to assist her with gaining her footing as she steps out onto the roof. Her choice of attire consists of little more than my tunic which leaves much of her legs exposed to the elements. She immediately begins to shiver as the cold desert air wafts across her bare skin and instinctively huddles against me.

"How are you not freezing?" she asks, teeth chattering.

"You get used to it," I reply, bringing her into the circle of my arms to warm her with my own body heat, "You can go back down if it's too much."

"No," she sighs, snuggling deeper into my tight embrace, "I like where I am."

Smiling into her hair, I give her one final squeeze before we both settle down on the rooftop together. But I keep her gathered close to me. I sit there with her in sweet, comfortable silence, content to be in her presence and simply hold her.

"So, what are you doing up here?" she asks once her shivering has begun to subside.

Talking about the dream isn't an option so, I hitch a nod towards the night sky. "Where else can you get a view like this?"

She turns her face upwards with an awestruck smile. "It is quite splendid. I think you can see every star in the galaxy from here."

"I used to think the same thing when I was a kid."

"You weren't meditating just now, were you? I didn't disturb you by coming out here, did I?"

"No," I reply, biting back an ironic smile at her assumption that I could find peace through meditation, "Not at all. I'm glad you're here. I find your presence very soothing, Padmé."

"Is that why you chose to come out on the roof to look at the stars rather than remaining in bed with me?" she asks, angling a wry smile up at me.

I can't meet her eyes directly when I reply. "I was restless. I didn't want to disturb you."

"How could you possibly be restless? I barely have the energy to move! My whole body aches."

A small, self-satisfied smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. "Did I tire you out, my love?"

"A little bit," she admits shyly, "But not so much that I didn't wake up wanting you."

When I lean over to kiss her, prepared to indulge that desire, she ducks away from me with a mournful groan. "What is it?" I whisper.

Now she is the one who seems to have trouble with meeting my eyes. For the first time since she joined me on the roof, I note the tension in her expression. "When you weren't in bed, I got up to look for you and that's when I noticed my commlink flashing."

"Has something happened?"

"Apparently, Dormé had been trying to raise me most of the evening," she says, "It seems that I must return to Coruscant. Immediately."

"What? Why so soon?"

"There's to be an emergency vote tomorrow at mid-day," she explains, "Truly, I should be on my way back there as we speak but…but I don't want to leave you just yet."

"So don't leave," I tell her, "You don't have to vote on every bill, Padmé."

"I have to vote on this one," she insists direly, "The Chancellor has proposed that we expand the Military Spending Act. He wants approval for the production of an additional 500,000 clone troopers!"

"What?" I explode incredulously, "Why would he need more clones? The war is winding down! The Jedi are tracking General Grievous and will soon have him in custody! That doesn't make any sense!"

"Apparently, Dooku has another financial backer. He's replenishing his ranks. There is fear that once Dooku is able to mobilize his forces, he will come here or, worse yet, mount an attack against Kamino. The Chancellor hopes to capitalize on clone production and reinforce the parameter around the planet before the Separatists can stage their attack."

"I'll give you three guesses who ordered Dooku to make Kamino his next target!" I grate, "This is just more smoke and mirrors to keep the war going!"

"Whether Chancellor Palpatine is responsible for these events or not, there are members of the Senate who legitimately share his concerns," Padmé says, "And with Grievous' whereabouts unknown, they are eager to ensure a swift victory against the Separatists at any cost."

"That won't happen. Sidious won't let it."

"Be that as it may, I must prevent this bill from going through…for the sake of the Republic."

"How did Dooku even raise the capital to build more droids in the first place?" I mutter, more to myself than to her, "The Separatist Alliance is practically broke and totally without allies!"

"Not completely," Padmé prefaces, "It seems that Dooku has some very influential friends who have even deeper pockets. They are the ones funding him with the capital to continue his efforts in the war."

I could think of several individuals still living who might be able to assist Dooku and his flagging Separatist Army financially, and one of them had accompanied Padmé on her peace delegation here. I briefly contemplate Clovis' possible involvement, recognizing quickly that even if he is involved, it is unlikely that he is the mastermind. That person is someone I'm sincerely regretting not eliminating earlier.

"Dod!" I spit out in an infuriated underbreath, "It's him! He's the backer! I know it's him!"

"There is no proof that Senator Dod has any connection to the Separatist Alliance. He has denied association on multiple occasions."

"He's a liar!" I hiss, "And you know it!"

"I said that there is no proof of his involvement," Padmé clarifies mildly, "I didn't say that I believe him."

"He's going to make sure this war drags on indefinitely," I grate, "As long as he can turn a profit, he doesn't care how many will die!"

"I don't disagree. But we must start with striking down this bill," Padmé argues, "The Republic does not have the funds to commit to another 500,000 troops. We can barely meet the needs of our citizens as it is. Now isn't the time to be reckless with credits we don't have!"

"This bill is only a distraction, Padmé, to keep your focus off the bigger picture! It's all a game. You're wasting your time trying to play by the rules when it has been rigged from the start! No matter what move you make, Sidious wins!"

"Anakin, if this bill passes, it will bankrupt the Republic!" she argues, "Countless people will suffer!"

"Then you focus on the bill," I tell her, surging to my feet, "I'm going after Dod and whoever else is responsible for prolonging this war!"

She's clamoring after me frantically, dogging my heels as I descend into my bedroom and begin throwing on my clothing and gathering my gear. "Anakin, don't do this!" she cries when I snap on my lightsaber, "You promised me no more killing!"

"I promised you that I would give democracy a chance! I did! It's a joke!"

"We haven't even held the vote yet!"

"Will Lott Dod also get a vote? Will his voice count in this as well?" She hesitates to reply, but the way she swiftly cuts her eyes away following is all the answer I need from her. I expel a disgusted grunt. "That's what I thought."

"So, what are you planning to do? Are you going to go to Coruscant and murder him right there in the middle of the Senate Rotunda?"

"If that's what's necessary!"

She yelps out her horrified disbelief and makes a desperate grab for my arm when I would have pulled back the hatch leading from my bedroom. "Please don't do this," she begs, "I know you don't have faith in democracy. You have good reason. I understand that. All you've seen your entire life is how it can fail. So don't put faith in that right now. Put faith in me instead!"

"You're fighting a battle you can't win, Padmé!"

"And I won't have a chance at all if you just hand Palpatine the victory this way!"

Abruptly, the fight drains out of me. In the wake of this latest news and my portentous dream, I am once again overwhelmed by the sheer futility of it all. "You don't understand," I whisper to her brokenly, "The longer this war goes on, the more people will suffer and die, and the more Sidious' power will grow. He didn't take control from the Galactic Senate, Padmé! They gave it to him the power. I gave it to him."

"Anakin, this isn't your doing alone. It's not your responsibility alone to fix it."

"Nothing I've done has made any difference," I mutter hopelessly, "I can't change a single thing."

Padmé reaches out to cup my cheek, gently but insistently coaxing me to meet her heartfelt gaze. That simple gesture alone is enough to keep me from spiraling further. Her touch, the love I feel emanating from it, grounds me.

"I think, perhaps, that is where you keep going wrong, Ani," she whispers, "You've been so preoccupied with trying to control life and death and love…in this life and in your last one, that you haven't once stopped to consider that maybe it's not up to you. Maybe you're not supposed to control any of this at all."

How many times had I heard similar advice over the course of my lifetime? Leave it to the will of the Force. Allow the Force to guide you. Let it be decided by the Force. I have struggled with accepting that simple truth for as long as I can remember but, I try valiantly to accept it now…for her sake.

I turn my face into her palm as the tears of frustrated anger begin to fall. "So, what do I do?"

"You don't have to do anything," she reassures me sweetly, "We're going to do it together."