Chapter 17

--

Newly rechristened Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader, stepped off his fighter onto his private hangar bay aboard the Death Star. Pulling his hood over his head, he walked, with his typical powerful and confident stride, to the Emperor's quarters.

"Master Yoda has been ... taken care of, my master."

"Good, you have done well, Lord Vader ... but what of the other one? Kenobi?" Darth Sidious had to ask. He thought Vader had been fully immersed, once more, into the Dark Side – that all his attachments, like all attachments when felt by the Dark Side, had been burned away with the same fire and intensity as the lava shores of Mustafar.

But Skywalker ... Skywalker was different. His journey to the Dark Side seemed almost ... reluctant. As if he didn't want to do so, but he had to ...

... to save Padme.

Emperor Palpatine smiled. That would be taken care of ... soon. He extended a withered hand and locked his yellow orbs into Vader's.

"Lord Vader," he said, "Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi. He must be destroyed. You were in perfect position to kill him, Lord Vader ... you could have brought peace to the galaxy!"

Vader's hands tightened into fists, and he gritted his teeth. "I can't."

"Of course you can. It is your destiny."

Vader snarled, "I will not kill him!"

"You are the first apprentice I have had ... who had the gall to yell at me."

Vader stepped back. "I am sorry, my master. It was not my place."

"Good ... there is another Jedi on the Death Star."

"I have felt it, my master."

"Kill it."

"Kill it?" Vader shook his head. "No, I can't. Not Tarra. She's ..."

"She's what, Vader ... she is more than Padme?"

"No. No. But she's helped me ... overcome ... my weaknesses. She's been a fountain of light to me. She knows what it feels like. She understands me."

Darth Sidious, when Vader had said that line, suddenly had a bad feeling about the entire plan. And he didn't like having bad feelings about anything.

After all, he always got what he wanted.

--

Obi-Wan held back tears as he made his way to the shield generator. Every beat of his heart reminded him that he was a failure. He had failed Anakin. Again.

But even as he regretted his decisions, his failures, he knew he had a job to do. One that might just undo what he had done with Anakin. And although nothing, he knew, would ever replace what Anakin had been to him ...

He let it go.

He let it go because he couldn't do anything else. Because the Force had whispered a warning to him, telling him to keep his mind on the present.

The present. A silhouette of a familiar bio-droid stood on the rocky slopes before him. Four red lightsabers erupted from their hilts.

Obi-Wan sighed, then said, "Kindly get out of my way, I have a mission to complete."

"You don't need to, Kenobi. I have done it for you."

Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea what the General was talking about. "What?"

"I shut down the shield generator. Your job there is finished. One obstacle against the rebellion has been removed."

"Why—" Obi-Wan was completely perplexed by this sudden turn of events. The Force told him General Grievous was being truthful, but it did not offer an answer as to why.

Grievous, on the other hand, did. "It is you I want, Kenobi. You, and only you. The fate of the Rebellion and the fate of the Empire is not my concern. Only you."

Obi-Wan sighed again. "So be it," he said, a blue lightsaber ignited and humming to life. But he realized that this battle with Grievous would be the most difficult fight he will have ever faced. Having barely recovered from his duel with Anakin, who was no amateur duelist, Obi-Wan was staring at a droid that no longer cared about life or death. Who no longer cared about the big picture.

To Grievous, this battle was himself against Obi-Wan. It was personal. And it was to the death.

Obi-Wan lifted his blade, and beckoned.

--

Tarra slashed through waves of clones, using the relatively narrow corridors to her own advantage, leaping and whirling through the massive amounts of troopers. And inside her head, she was counting.

179 ... 180 ... 181 ...

No, not the number of troopers she was killing, she was not that naive. She was counting the time it took for her to get to the Emperor. To Anakin.

Because every passing second, just might be one second too late.

--

"Red-four to Home-one, I've found the power generator, sir!"

"Fire at will, Red-four."

"Will do! Red-Squadron, sending you coordinates now."

"Good work, Captain Antilles, Red-two right behind you."

"Let's end this war!"

Six rebel fighters streaked past Imperial TIE fighters, twisting and rolling away from the lines of fire. One, two, three, then four fighters were blasted away.

Captain Ozzel, aboard the bridge of the Executor, watched in eager anticipation as the remaining two fighters streaked toward the target.

Five shots. That's all it took to light up the most brilliant explosion the captain had ever seen. The men on the bridge cheered, proclaiming victory. Then the explosion and the smoke cleared.

The Death Star was unscathed.

What? Captain Ozzel thought in shock.

"Assess damage done to Death Star," he ordered a computer technician who sat before him.

"Less than 1, sir, that "weak point" must have only been the backup fuel cells."

Oh, Captain Ozzel thought blankly. Oh, this is bad.

--

Aboard the Death Star, Tarra was slashing through another clone when the lights went out. Because one of the fighters, apparently, had bad aim, and had scored a direct hit on one of the cables and pipes leading to lighting and hydraulics systems.

It was only a matter of seconds before the backup lighting systems would light up, once again illuminating the corridors.

Tarra couldn't wait for that. She had counted already to 224, there was no time.

Two lightsabers winked out, and when the lights returned, the Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi was nowhere to be found.

--

The Emperor, standing in front of a window, laughed as the Rebel forces were in disarray. "The Rebellion has been crushed," he drawled in glee.

Beside him, Anakin – or rather, Darth Vader, stood, hunched at the shoulders. "Master ..."

The Emperor turned, kindness etched on his old, withered, evil face. "What is it, Anakin. What do you need? What do you want?"

"Master ... promise me ... when Tarra comes in ... don't kill her. Please."

The Emperor sighed. "We've been through this before, Anakin. She is a Jedi. She has to be killed or she will be the destruction of the Empire!"

Anakin's feet took him to a chair. He did not remember sitting down. His mind was whirling, locked in a struggle against himself.

He was losing.

"What ... can two Jedi do?"

"At the moment, nothing. But when someone more powerful ... comes to existence ... if the Jedi find that person ... the Sith would perish."

"But there are two Jedi ... and two Sith! If we get our apprentices ..." Anakin pleaded for the lives of the two people he knew, that if they died, would tear him apart.

"Actually, that's not entirely true," Palpatine said. "Come, follow me, I have something to show you. And the two Sith Lords walked to the display board. The Emperor punched a few numbers into a keyboard, then settled down to watch.

It was a hatchery.

Of Sith. Sith babies. Children who grew up as evil, demonic clones, genetically enhanced to become stronger, faster, better.

"Completely obedient, Anakin. To you."

"Me?"

"Yes, Anakin ... it is my gift to you. Just think ... of the power you will have. You are far younger, and more powerful than I am ... you are the man most suited to ruling ... the galaxy.

"I ... I don't know what to say."

The Emperor's eye twinkled. "Thank you, master, would do."

Anakin bowed. "Thank you, my master." It was a generous gift, after all. And in a few months, the galaxy would be his.

Sidious would be taken out of the picture.

Once Padme came back.

--

Tarra's lightsaber sliced through the locked door, she kicked it open.

The sudden brightness of the Emperor's quarters nearly blinded her. Not that it was particularly bright, but in comparison to the pitch black shafts from where she came from, it was nearly blinding. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the light.

Then she saw Anakin bow to the Emperor. "Thank you, my master."

What?

"You ..." Tarra burst out. "TRAITOR!"

Anakin looked at her with a mixture of shock and surprise. Tarra saw, then, the pain reflected in his eyes. Anakin turned to the Emperor. "Promise me ... promise me you won't –"

"She is a Jedi, Lord Vader ... she must die."

The yellow in Anakin's eyes, previously so dark following the generous offer of the Sith Army, flickered towards blue.

The three stood in that position, Anakin glaring at Emperor Palpatine, Palpatine gazing at Tarra, and Tarra looking at Anakin, for a long time.

--

Four arms whirled so fast Obi-Wan could barely see them, but the Force guided his motions, made sure every movement, every flick of the wrist was effective.

The General didn't care. He didn't care that Obi-Wan was holding his ground, he didn't care that there didn't seem to be any way he could win. After all, he had faced Obi-Wan twice before, and had come out the loser both times. He didn't care that Obi-Wan had the power of the Force behind his parries, and he, General Grievous, only had the strength of his durasteel arms.

One of the General's hands clattered onto the ground. Make that limb count eight, he thought. He stared momentarily at the burnt stump of metal the remained, then charged forward once again, lightsabers whirling.

Obi-Wan slashed out to the right, spun in a full circle, reversed his grip as he did so, and slashed again.

Half a lightsaber clattered onto the floor. General Grievous looked at his right mechanical hand, holding a smoking, useless lightsaber hilt. Yellow eyes narrowed, and once more the bio-droid attacked.

Obi-Wan gave ground. That was his way. That was how he did battle. He backed into the shield generator room. The main controls had been destroyed, and were now crackling with excess electric energy.

Obi-Wan continued to give ground, and was now struggling, locked with the General, chest to chest, blade to blades.

Springing back, Grievous raced forward, swinging wildly. Obi-Wan stepped nimbly to the side, and watched as General Grievous plunged headfirst into the control panel. Whipping out his blade, Obi-Wan sliced the bio-droid in half, at the hip, and the head, torso, and arms of the General hit the control panel. The durasteel arms were a superconductor, and as electricity surged through his body, General Grievous' final thought was that he would finally rejoin his alien family in death. Then his brain was fried by high-voltage electricity.

Obi-Wan watched sadly at the spectacle, then turned and walked out the room. The Force led him to break into a run, enhancing his strides, and turning his last stride into a flying leap just as the entire shield generator control room exploded.

The Jedi Master didn't even stop to look.

The darkness he felt was overpowering.

--

In the Death Star, the Emperor was eyeing Tarra Havanis with a curious look. "So," he said simply, "choose. Join me ... or die."

Darth Vader shuddered at the last word.

Tarra glanced at him, and her uncertainty cost her.

Bolts of lightning streak towards the Jedi Knight, running up her arms, gliding across her chest, streaking into her heart. Both her and Vader's teeth were so tightly gritted that the two made mashing sounds.

"Master –" Vader started, but the Emperor was speaking.

"Fool, only now do you truly realize my power!"

"Anakin ..." Tarra said, groaning. "Anakin ... please ... help me!"

Vader had to consciously remember Padme. His head was spinning, and if he didn't think of his beloved he would probably turn against the Emperor right now and – Padme, Padme, Padme.

"Anakin ..." Tarra said. Her bones were beginning to illuminate through her flesh, through her clothes.

Vader looked sadly at Tarra, then turned to the Emperor, then back at the struggling human writhing on the ground.

"Anakin, please! Anakin I love you!" Tarra screamed in pain.

"What!" The emperor voiced what Vader was thinking.

She loves me ... why? Vader thought blankly. A red lightsaber erupted in his mechanical hand.

"She's trying to manipulate you, Vader!" the Emperor shrieked. "She wants you to save her so she can destroy the Sith!"

"No ..." Vader said softly. "No ... she's not lying. I would feel it if she was."

Beside him, Tarra had succumbed to the barrage of lightning, and lay still.

No. Anakin thought. No ... I won't lose another one who loves me. My mother needed me. I failed her. Padme needed me. I failed her too. I won't fail this time. Never.

"Vader, I need your help to restore peace and justice to the galaxy!"

"You LIAR!" Anakin screamed. "All of your tales. Everything you've said. LIES! ALL OF THEM!" he bellowed.

"Vader, control yourself!" The lightning increased its intensity.

"Nooo!" Anakin yelled, raising his lightsaber, preparing to strike down the evil Sith Lord, once and for all.

A flame-colored blade ignited from the Sith Lord's hand, blocking Anakin's attack. The two Sith Lords, one former, one present, leapt back. Tarra lay on the ground, the lightning barrage over, unconscious. "Vader, STOP! Think of Padme! Vader, you are my apprentice!"

And Anakin did think of Padme. Looking down, Padme, he thought. Padme, I'm so sorry.

When his eyes lifted, it was burning. Burning a cool flame the color of the sky. From those blue orbs, accusations of hatred, manipulation, and evil spewed towards the Emperor. For the first time in his life, Darth Sidious felt fear. Standing before him was a figure emanating power, pain, and sorrow at the same time. Standing before him was the Chosen One.

"My name," the Chosen One said, "is Anakin Skywalker. And I am a person."

--

A/N: Well, so Anakin goes back against Sidious again. Funny how unstable he is, isn't it? Like Yoda said before he died, Anakin can still go both ways. He keeps teetering at the edge, and that's what makes him very dangerous. He's so unpredictable, but I think, with this new discovery, he's on the side he's on, for good. Partially just because I can't think of a way Sidious can entice him back to the Dark Side. Keep reviewing guys!