When I limped back with Master Obi-Wans medic squad to the center, I was told that even though Master Obi-Wan was badly burned, he would survive. He had an inner strength that, as long as it held out, would see him through. My lungs ached for the air that had been denied them since I entered the medi center, relief washed over me in waves as I noted that if the only factor in whether he would survive or not was his will, he would surely survive. He was too stubborn not to.
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They told me he would be unable to breathe on his own, he would need a respirator for the rest of his life. And few of his organs would function normally without constant supervision and maintenance. His flesh had been so badly seered by the lava, that it was coming off of his bones in sheets. In order to preserve it, he would have to be bathed in tepid water once every day for a short time to make it more elastic and to relieve the pain. He would live, but he would not live the life he was accustomed to. I asked to see him, but the nurse droid told me he was being fitted for a special suit that was at the moment experimental, but served as an iron lung. I nodded and she went to attend to him. I sat with my head in my hands and softly wept to myself. I had done this to him. I alone was responsible for what my friends life would inevitably become. He had never been anything but kind to me, but I was too blind to see that. I had wanted absolute power, and might have killed my only friend to gain it. I wept not only for him, I wept for everyone that had ever met and loved or respected this man, his pupils, friends, and family. I also wept for those who had trusted me, the Jedi council, although they had only trusted me to a degree, and only because of what Obi-Wan had said to convince them. But still they had afforded me with enough confidence to accept me into the Jedi academy, even though their were some doubts. I can still remember Master Yoda, looking at me so scrutinizingly, and yet they allowed me to train under Obi-Wan who took full responsibility, just to fulfill my dreams of becoming a Jedi.

And when I allowed myself to think of the most important person who I had hurt,
I wept the most for her...

She had trusted me with everything in her, she had given so much of herself to be with me. Our relationship and marriage had been a secret, but if ever found out she could have lost her seat in the Senate and her chance to help her home planet. Yet she risked it. She had trusted me to help her and I had not only failed, but managed to quell many of her efforts with the missions I had been sent on be Palpetine. He had not only turned me into his servant, but he had made me go against the very thing my wife and the Jedi were fighting to preserve. But I would no longer be the one to ruin Padmes life, or stand in her way. Even if she hated me now. Even if she never wished to see me again. Oh Force, please no. I could take anything but that. I could take her yelling at me, screaming, cursing my name if it meant her happiness. But silence? That I could not bear.

And as though my thoughts were seen and answered by the Force itself suddenly I saw her standing there, a vision of wonder. I couldn't see her face, but I recognized the dress she was wearing to be the one she had wore when she got off the ship and ran to me, just before we had had our disagreement...just before I... I swallowed hard, not knowing if I should go to her or if she would run if I made a move toward her. I had done an unspeakable thing to her the last we had seen one another. When she saw me, I swore under my breath as I realized her face was a mask of terror.