Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with SW. Simple enough? Do I need to say it slower?

I am currently half-asleep and don't feel like making up an excuse for my long absence or writing a pre-chapter speech... Thanks to all who reviewed.

Part X

Vader's POV

I never wanted this. You may not realize it, but for things to end this way was not my intention. It is a curious sensation, being completely and utterly powerless after all these years of controlling the galaxy – the entire galaxy with the exception of one being, namely my master – with a durasteel grip. I find myself helpless once more. The feeling speaks of broken promises, for power over helplessness was the one reason why I crossed the threshold – had I not been so desperate to save her – I dare not speak her name, for it would be sacrilege beyond words. It would be spitting on her grave.

I was a fool to think this would bring me absolute control – perhaps I only believed what wanted, blinded by intense desire. It is almost amusing, cruelly so, but amusing nonetheless that none of it was true. All he spoke of - power over life and death and the like – the seductive promise remains unfulfilled. It was all a lie, a ploy to make me bend to his will. I know this now, but it is far too late – I've known it from the moment I woke in the aftermath of The Duel. My chains – instead of being broken, they are merely reinforced. The Dark Side has me trapped in its icy hold – for eternity. I am forever enslaved.

So I watch you, paralyzed, unable to take action of any kind. Secretly, in the darkest corners of my frozen black mind, out of reach to the emperor's piercing, burning gaze, I feel pride at your actions. I want you to fight him. I value your resistance. I want you to give him hell. But I know your efforts are in vain. The outcome is clear, the future written. He will break you and he will have you. He will own you.

Your haunted, shadowed blue eyes bore right through me. They consume my very soul. They accuse me. They eat away at my very core. And they call out to me – they cry out for me. As you belatedly recognize me, no doubt in fear. Or are you well beyond fear? I cannot tell, because your presence is clouded, faint even. I know what you are doing. You retreat into yourself, finding solace in the depths of your own mind. You extricate yourself from inside. I know this as you finally meet my gaze, almost understanding.

Softly, and so faintly you mouth the word. Father. It is too silent for a whisper, silent as my eternal tomb of darkness, but you scream in my mind. You reach out, and Force, I want to save you. I want to save you, more than anything, but I find myself encased in my icy grave. How can you save someone when you need to be saved yourself? How can you save someone when you yourself are lost beyond salvation?

I know what you want. You long for death. You yearn for the end. And as much as I loathe myself for it, I wish for it to be so as well. I fervently hope you will die soon, for your sake. I do not feel pain. I have long since learned to shut it out – eventually, we all do. But this is as close as I have ever come in twenty-one years.

Mara's POV

I gaped, wide-eyed, at Emperor Palpatine, my master. Never had I felt this tempted to disobey my orders. Never had the mere thought flashed across my mind, in fact. Never had I dared to question his judgment. His words had vanished into thin air the moment they left his mouth, but they still echoed in my mind. You will capture Princess Leia Organa and bring her to me, alive and unharmed. He said nothing about what would happen afterward, but I could read between the lines.

I knew what this meant – a simple yet effective tactic. And I didn't like it one bit – I hated it. And I would have done anything to stop it were I not the one in charge of the task. Hell, I would have deliberately sabotaged the mission had I not been the one carrying out. Maybe I could…Maybe I—

"Master..." I trailed off, mentally kicking myself. Smart, Jade, smart. Now you've done it. The damage was done. Palpatine threw me a venomous glare, fingertips sparking. Not a good sign…

"Is there a problem?" He spat. Translation: Do you want me to blast you with Force lightning? I will be more than happy to do so. Time to slip into mindless, blindly loyal slave mode.

Bowing, "No, Master." No, Master. I value my life, thank you very much.

"You are dismissed." I practically flew out of the throne room.

It was funny how my loyalties had done a one-eighty in so short a time. One minute I was the perfect servant, the next I was almost – almost – defying him. I could never defy him. Twice. There it was again. That annoying, deadly yet alluring spark of resistance.

I knew what had kindled it. I did not know whether I should love or hate it. The facts, they were all there. I had finally given in to weakness and started to care, the very thing I had trained myself not to do. You can't afford to care when you kill regularly. The stranger thing was that I did not regret it. I almost – almost – felt pride at my "accomplishment". As much as I tried not to admit it, it felt exhilarating to have someone in my life whose fate I cared about as much if not more than my own, more than Pal—No.

I could not let Skywalker – Damn Jedi, get out of my mind – distract me from my duties. This was what I lived for, and I wasn't about to sacrifice it all for him. But Sith, the thought stuck in my mind. If he was as much of an idealistic fool as I thought he was, Skywalker was doomed. NO. There was only the mission. To hell with Skywalker, he means nothing to you anyway…That was a lie, and my mind knew it as well as I did. I did have a soft spot for him, whether I liked it or not. I had to quash the feelings, crush them, disintegrate them, make them disappear. I failed miserably. I had to see him just once more. One last time. Or maybe I could kill—NO.

Time stretches out like an endless, flat desert, a field of waste. A desolate land, like his mind. The stinging – no, agonizing – feverish, hopelessly silent brightness of the cell buzzes and rings in his ears. Sterile white pain, like his mind. If he listens long enough, it almost feels like someone is there with him, whispering in his mind. Whispers like rain, calm and chaotic. He still repeats the words, now empty and meaningless. Empty like the cell, empty like his mind, empty like life. Life, the long wait for death. Life, the infinite weariness before death, the longing…I will die soon. I will die soon. Will I? Will I? Tell me! WILL I DIE SOON?

His mind screams the question. His own hollowness responds. He has gotten used to it now. Sometimes, when it is unbearable, he retreats into the dark corner inside, his safe haven, his refuge, where nothing can disturb him. No pain, no blood, no war, no hate, no loneliness – his mind is there for him; it is the only being that can love the dark, filthy little thing he is – no thoughts. Just darkness. Blissful, warm, forgiving darkness. It loves him unconditionally, for it is him. There he can hide all alone in the shadows…No, not alone, never alone…

It is death in all but name, in all but permanence. A deep, dark, heavy cloak of slumber he throws on, self-imposed nothingness that falls upon him. Sometimes he dies these little deaths, but it is his secret; no one must know. No one. No one? Isn't he one? Is he? Shush…No one must know. Nothing. No thoughts. Empty darkness. Except you. Me? Or you?

Sometimes he can't die. Sometimes the biting light and turbulent silence drag him down to his doomed existence. It pounds and pulsates, and he is all alone to face it…

…So very alone…Father…Father!

Sometimes he forgets no one is there and reaches out again…He won't hear you…He tries to tell himself what he does not know. He repeats it again and again. Each session is one step closer. One step closer. You can't win, Your Dark Highness…The more you tighten your grasp, the further I slip…One step closer…One step…closer…death…Nothing.

Then door hisses like a giant metal serpent, striking at him…Is it His Darkness? No. He can't hear the soft brush of the robes against the once pristine floor. Now soiled with blood. His evil blood. Instead, light steps, padded, like that of a cat…Jade. She slips in every once in a while, quiet as a ghost. Maybe she is a ghost…a ghost of beauty, graceful as a feather. Will I find you in death? Sometimes he even looks forward to her visits. It is as if he is connected to her, as if he knows her, has known her from the moment they exchanged glances….Wait, he's seen her before that…One more such comment and I'll make you wish you were dead…Ironic that I do, even if you didn't…

She's not a ghost. You can't feel a ghost's touch. Soft yet fiery, like a phoenix's feather. She strokes his bloody cheek and whispers a goodbye. She can't stay long. So she kisses him, softly, yet passionately. He doesn't know her – Do I? – but he can't help but return it. He can't help but love, because it feels just so much more fulfilling than the anger…This isn't real, and he knows it. An illusion? No, she's real. He can feel her. But it isn't real.

…Pretend you love me, Jade. Make believe. Lie to me. I will believe everything…I want you. I need you. I love you…Pretend this is no illusion, no delusion. Pretend I'm yours. Pretend you're mine. Pretend this is real. Pretend this is forever...Pretend we are not dying. Pretend this is life, and not lifelong death…I love you…Don't leave me…I need you…

…DON'T LEAVE ME!...

Mara's POV

Once again I find myself succumbing to my inner frailty. Skywalker doesn't know it, but I read his mind like a book. I hear his thoughts as clearly as I would were they spoken aloud, and all I want to do is stay. Forever, just like he said. I don't want to do this to him. I know I will be his death in all but body. I will doom him to servitude. Forever. I don't want to do this. I can't. But I must.

"Goodbye, Skywalker."