Another Route

Part 19

Author's Note: Thanks to Moyima for BETA-ing this for me.

:>>>

"Identify yourself, Theta-class shuttle," came a voice over the comm two days later, as they exited hyperspace over Mustafar.

"This is Captain Han Solo," Han replied into the comm. "Where's your commanding officer, monitor?"

"Solo?" the man on the other end sounded surprised. "We thought you'd deserted."

"Is anyone from the High Command nearby, comm monitor?" Han asked, getting annoyed.

"Where'd you go, Solo?"

"A rescue mission to the Imperial Palace. Listen"—

But a new voice interrupted them. "Captain Solo!" Mon Mothma's voice came. "Kindly report to High Command as soon as you land."

"Lady Mothma, we need some medical help," said Han quickly.

"Why? Who was hurt?"

Han exchanged a glance with Luke, who sighed and indicated that he tell the truth. "We've got Luke's dad here, Your Ladyship," said Han uneasily. "He's in rough shape. The Emperor tortured him to try and get Luke to come and be his new lackey."

There was complete silence over the comm. "You mean to tell me that you have Darth Vader on board?" Her voice was eerily calm.

"Yes, but he's unconscious," said Han quickly.

"There is no way I will allow my medical supplies to be wasted on that monster," Mothma said coldly.

Luke gritted his teeth and bent down. "This is Luke Skywalker, Lady Mothma," he said. "My father has pledged his monetary assets, tactical knowledge, and his private fleet to the services of the Rebellion. He can't do any of that paralyzed."

"He's paralyzed?" she asked in some surprise.

"Right now, yes."

"Very well," she stiffly. "What does he require?"

"Full life support and at least two surgeon droids," said Luke instantly. "We'll be down there soon."

"Understood," said Mothma in a clipped tone, and cut the transmission.

"Did he really do all that?" Han asked in surprise.

Luke smiled wanly. "No," he admitted. "But he will."

Han shook his head slowly. "You're on quicksand, kid."

Luke shrugged. "I'm going to go and get him ready for transport," he said finally. "Make sure he's still unconscious."

"Go ahead," Han replied warily, taking the controls.

A few minutes later, they landed on the platform and Han lowered the boarding ramp, moving down to help Luke with the hover-gurney on which his father lay, still unconscious. "Is he okay?" he asked nervously, trying to take his eyes off the electrical burns that marred the skin.

"He's stable," was Luke's terse reply as they guided the gurney down the boarding ramp. He bit his lip to ward off his memories of Mustafar and was grateful his father was sleeping—dealing with those experiences in addition to his medical condition would be difficult.

Mon Mothma strode towards them. "Skywalker, I'll have you know that I don't approve—" she stopped as she saw the man on the gurney, and blanched, clapping a horrified hand to her mouth.

"That is Anakin Skywalker?" she whispered. "Your father?"

"Yes," Luke replied shortly.

"That can't be," Mothma gasped. "Anakin… This can't be Anakin!"

"I assure you that he is," said Luke. "My Lady, he needs medical care."

"Yes, of course," said Mothma, collecting herself just as Leia ran to them.

"Han! Luke!" she greeted them, only to pale herself when she saw Vader on the gurney. She, however, kept herself together. "An operating room and adjacent Serious Condition Unit has been prepared," she said firmly.

"Then let's go," Luke said.

Leia had cleared the way to the Medical Wing before she came out to greet them and so the walk to the SCU was undisturbed. "If I may ask…" Mothma began hesitantly. "What happened to him?"

Luke tensed. "It's not my story to tell," he said finally.

"I see," said Mothma as they entered the medical unit.

A 2-1B unit moved forward. "Means of injuries?" the droid asked instantly.

"Extensive electrical shocking," said Luke. "He has bionic arms and legs, which need to be replaced or repaired. He's incapable of breathing on his own unless there's a high level of oxygen concentration. Also, he has a damaged cybernetic vertebrae," Luke finished.

"Reason for the breathing problem?" the Two-onebee questioned as the gurney slid Vader's body onto the bed.

"Lung damage," said Luke. "He breathed in the toxic fumes produced over the lava flows on this planet." Behind him, Leia uttered a little gasp.

"Completely destroyed lungs, then," the personable droid said. "He's a disaster. I'm moving him into surgery as soon as possible, so you all clear out. It won't take long to replace his vertebrae, and then we'll be able to tell the extent of the damage."

"Thanks, Two-onebee," said Luke, backing out of the room with Mothma, Leia, Han, and Chewie following him. "He'll be all right," he said to their doubtful faces.

Mothma shook her head slowly. "Why did the Emperor turn on him?"

Luke clenched his hands before remembering to release his anger. "Palpatine found out that he let me escape when he ordered him to kill me three years ago," he said shortly.

"I see," Mothma repeated. "I think you should get some rest, Skywalker," she said after a moment.

"No," Luke replied, drawing up a chair from the corridor and sitting down, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. "I have to stay here. I'll stand guard, in case anyone decides to attack him."

Mothma nodded grimly. "Wise move, unfortunately. When he has recovered sufficiently from surgery, I will return to ascertain his legitimacy."

Luke nodded, and Mothma turned and strode down the hallway, leaving him with Han, Leia, and Chewie. "Go on," he said wearily. "I can sleep here. The Force will wake me if something bad happens."

"Are you sure?" Leia asked concernedly. "I can't believe you got away, Luke."

"Neither can I," Luke agreed wanly.

"Kid, you should get something to eat," said Han, rubbing his neck and yawning. "You ate what, one ration bar on the way back?"

Luke shrugged. "I can manage."

"We'll bring you back something," said Leia.

"That's fine," Luke said. "Go on," he said, waving his hand at them.

An hour and a half later, Han and Leia sat down at one of the tables in the mess hall. "I can't believe that that is the same person who tortured me," said Leia quietly, staring into her cup of stimcaf.

"What goes around comes around," said Han in a weak attempt at humor.

Leia looked up. "It's not the time for jokes, Han," she reprimanded the smuggler quietly. He subdued.

"I know," he said heavily.

"Leia!"

She turned to see Amidala, followed closely by Terzé, enter the mess hall. "Hello, Mother," she said softly.

"Captain Solo, I'm relieved to hear that you have returned," said Amidala politely. "Leia, darling, I heard that someone was rescued from the Imperial Palace. What do you know?"

Leia glanced at Han, who shrugged. "Luke and Han went to the Palace to help Vader escape," she told her mother, knowing that the truth would come out sooner or later.

Amidala froze. "What?" Her voice was suddenly hard.

Leia stared at her mother. "What is it?"

"Luke Skywalker went to rescue Vader?" Amidala repeated.

"Yes," said Leia, bewildered.

"Where is he?" Amidala asked tightly, her hands trembling.

"My lady," Terzé interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Not now, Terzé," Amidala said coldly. "Where is he? Where is that monster?"

"Mother, he's not really in great shape right now," said Leia worriedly.

"I don't care!" Amidala suddenly shouted, the mess hall quieting instantly. She reached forward and grabbed Leia's arm. "Where is he?"

"Mother"—

"THAT MONSTER KILLED MY HUSBAND!" Amidala screamed, shaking Leia's arm. "He killed your father! He nearly killed your brother! How dare you protect him? How dare you?"

Leia and Han froze. "What?" Leia whispered. "My brother?"

But Amidala whipped around and ran out of the mess hall, heading towards the medical wing.

Leia stood there for a second, unmoving. She had a brother? How could that be? Vader had killed Bail Organa, her adopted father, but had he killed her real father as well? "Leia, we have to stop her!" Han said urgently.

Leia stirred herself from her reverie. "What?" she asked dumbly.

Han pulled her bodily up. "We have to stop your mother from attacking Luke!"

Realization set in and they both set off after Terzé, who was following Amidala as she tore through the halls.

Amidala didn't stop until she saw Luke's—her son's—weary form sitting on a chair. "HOW DARE YOU?" she shouted, ignoring all pretenses for politeness and diplomacy. Her son had saved the life of the man that had murdered his own father!

"Lady Amidala?" Luke asked in surprise, standing up. "What's wrong?"

"How dare you?" she repeated. "That monster"—she pointed to the room—"killed your father! How dare you soil his memory by protecting him? How dare you?"

"Lady Amidala, I don't know what you're talking about—" Luke interrupted, his eyes wide as he backed away from the livid woman.

"He killed your father, my Anakin!" Amidala cried out. "He killed my Ani!"

Luke stopped dead still.

Her Anakin?

He didn't even notice that she was inside the room until she had left the hall for a few moments. He stood, swaying, until he realized he should stop her, and followed her in the room, where his father had just come out of surgery. Amidala stared at him, no doubt thrown off by his appearance.

"YOU MONSTER!" she screamed.

Vader opened his eyes at once and jumped a little, wincing as he upset his injured body, now that he could feel it. He looked around for the source of the voice and locked onto her as she stalked towards him. His jaw dropped.

"Mother!" Leia cried out, panting, as she reached the doorway. Amidala whirled around to see Terzé, Han, and her daughter enter the room. "Stop it!"

"He killed Anakin!" Amidala said, pointing a shaking finger at Vader, who still lay, staring at her in disbelief. She turned. "How dare you try to take my son from me? How dare you accept his help?"

"…Padmé?" Vader finally found his voice, hoarse and weak though it was. He stared at her, his expression the picture of disbelief, hope, and confusion.

She froze. Her eyes widened. She backed away, clawing for some kind of support. "My lady!" Terzé called out, and took her arm before she fell.

She stared, slack-jawed at the man struggling to sit up. "No…" she whispered. "No, no, no…"

"Padmé?" he repeated incredulously. "You're dead! I killed you!"

Luke turned towards the sagging woman, held up only by her armored protector's arms. "You are Padmé?" he whispered. "But you told me…"

It all fell into place—her staring at him when she didn't realize he was watching; her interest in his affairs; the time she had briefly mentioned that she used to 'know' his father, Anakin Skywalker.

Luke swayed. His mother!

"Ani?" Amidala—Padmé—gasped. "Ani, is that you?"

"He told me I killed you! He said I killed you!" Anakin rasped, panicked. He clenched the blankets in his hands, the respirator picking up to his body's anxiety. "No… No…"

"Father," Luke said, moving over to him, forgetting about this latest revelation in his concern. "Father, calm down."

Anakin stared wildly at him. "Luke, Luke…" he whispered. "She's alive!" His gaze hardened and they all felt the room suddenly grow cold. "He told me I killed her," he repeated.

The various medical instruments on the trays began to shake. "Father?" Luke asked, furrowing his brow.

With an immense show of strength, Anakin lifted his arms and grabbed his scalp, squeezing his eyes tight as the room began to quiver. He bit his lip.

"Father, let go of your anger," said Luke firmly, taking his father's mechanical arm from his head and letting it fall limp onto the bed. "Release it into the Force. Breathe." Anakin latched onto his son's hand and did as he was told, and gradually the shaking stopped, leaving him breathing raggedly despite the respirator.

"Ani," Padmé whispered, getting to her feet shakily, tears shining in her eyes.

He jerked his head over to her and winced at the pain in his neck. He stared at her unblinkingly, his mouth slightly open as he just watched her. "You're alive," he rasped in complete wonderment. "You're alive, you're alive."

She stumbled over to him and pressed her face to his chest and her hands on his face. He flinched at the contact. "Ani, what is it? What's wrong?"

He just looked at her as though he'd lost all measure of space and time. "Padmé, Padmé…" he whispered.

"Ani, my love," she said, drawing back.

Gritting his teeth with the effort, he reached out for her hand with his mechanical one—damaged as it was—and suddenly she stiffened. "You!"

"Padmé," he rasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried in vain to draw breath into his lungs.

"You're Darth Vader," she whispered, stepping back. "Darth Vader. You're him. You—you're Vader. You're him. You're Vader," she mumbled over and over in disbelief.

"Padmé, please," he gasped, trying to project his voice as he calmed his lungs down, still struggling to breathe.

She raised her eyes to him, cold and hard. "Anakin, how could you? How could you do those things? Leia!" her hands went to her mouth and she whirled to see her daughter, standing pale-faced at the door. Han had long since left the room. "You tortured her! Your daughter! You—you killed those people, you helped him destroy Naboo! Alderaan! You almost turned Luke to the Dark Side! You killed Bail! You killed Owen and Beru, all the Jedi!" She glared at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Lady Ami"—Luke paused. "Mother, stop it, please."

Padmé ignored him, just whirled back at her husband. "Anakin, I don't understand," she said as he wheezed and gasped for breath on the bed. "How could you? How could you have done those things?"

"Mother!" Luke said sharply.

Padmé stared at Anakin, who had sunk back into the pillows, biting his lips. She glanced to Luke and instantly her gaze softened. "Luke, my dear boy, my beautiful son," she whimpered, losing her strength. Terzé caught her elbow and she froze once more and turned to him. "Terzé Ba'kuun," she said suddenly. "You knew?"

"What?" Luke asked, confused.

"My lady…" Terzé mumbled. "I did."

She gasped. "And you didn't tell me? Why didn't you? How could you not?"

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, confused.

Terzé turned to Luke slowly. "I was a spy," he said quietly. "On the Executor."

"A spy?" Luke asked blankly.

"Three years ago," he continued, and pulled off his helmet.

"Lang?" Luke gasped.

The same cropped brown hair, dark eyes—the face was the same, albeit older. "Hannon Lang?"

He nodded wordlessly and this time it was Luke who stumbled back, needed to sit down. "I don't understand," he whispered.

"Terzé, how could you keep it from me? You knew the whole story!" Padmé whispered. Terzé—or Lang—turned back to her.

"That's why I couldn't tell you," he said quietly. "I thought that if you found out that your husband… that Anakin was Darth Vader, it would destroy you." Behind him, Anakin winced as though slapped.

"You…" Leia had moved forward to the foot of Anakin's bed. She stared at him and he met her gaze, cringing. "You…" she repeated, and then her eyes widened. "You killed my father," she whispered. "Bail Organa."

"I…" Anakin opened his mouth to try and say something, but the words wouldn't come.

"But… I don't understand," Leia continued, turning to face her mother. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Padmé got to her feet. "Leia…" she began. "I couldn't."

"Why?" Luke asked, moving to stand at his father's shoulder.

"Because… Because I am a target," she said finally. "I thought that if you knew, Luke, who I am—who Leia is—then it could endanger you. That if you cared for us, that you would risk yourself needlessly. Or, we might be used against you. And you're the last of the Jedi."

"I'm not the last of the Jedi," Luke said quietly. "I'm not even a Jedi yet. And I would have gone to yours or Leia's aid any day, regardless."

Padmé smiled a watery smile at him. "You're just like your—" she stopped herself and turned her gaze back to Anakin, who lay on the bed, eyes closed tightly. Her anger melted. "Ani, what happened to you?"

He tensed and opened his eyes. "Padmé… I…"

Her anger forgotten, Padmé went back to his side and pulled up a chair to sit by him. Her fingers traced the old, twisted scars that were the remnants of his injuries, and bypassed the bandages that covered his other injuries. He flinched at her touch.

"Why do you shrink away, Ani?" she asked him gently, her face saddened by what she saw.

"Padmé," he rasped, and she thought she heard a little of his voice. "I have not been touched," he rasped, "in almost eighteen years," he whispered to her. "Not by anything except a droid."

She froze and then buried her face in the flesh-and-blood of his shoulder. "My beautiful Anakin, my love, my heart," she said softly into his skin, swallowing to keep back her tears. "I've missed you so much, Ani. I've longed for you every day."

He said nothing, just concentrated on breathing and enjoying the feel of her cheek against his shoulder. "Padmé…" he whispered after a moment. "I am not… who you remember," he told her haltingly. "Look at my face."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and reached a trembling finger out to trace the scars that disfigured his face. He shrank away from her touch. "Your face means nothing to me, love," she told him gently. She hung her head. "Ani, how could you do those things? The younglings, at the Temple, it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he whispered, and Luke felt the wave of shame and regret roll off of him like the anger had minutes earlier.

"But why?" she asked him distraughtly, trying desperately to understand. "What could make you do those things? How could you have become such—"

"A monster?" he finished her hollowly. "I…was corrupted," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say, Padmé. I'm so sorry."

"You're not a monster," she said dully, though she didn't sound convinced. "And Alderaan?"

"I didn't give that order," he said quietly. "I despised it."

She sagged in relief. "Good." She peered more closely at his mutilated body and frowned. "Ani…tell me what happened."

"Padmé…" he began hoarsely. "Please, I…"

"I must know, Anakin," she said firmly. "Please."

"Please… don't… Padmé…" Anakin begged her. "I can't… I… please…"

"Lady Amidala, don't," said Luke firmly, his own eyes hard. "Don't ask."

"Luke," she said, standing up to face her son. "He is my husband. Whoever did this to him—whoever hurt him so must receive justice."

"You don't want to know," said Luke heavily. "Believe me."

"Mother, perhaps he's right," Leia ventured. She kept her eyes off of Vader. "I read warnings about this place. If you breathe the fumes, then your lungs basically burn from the inside. If that's what happened to him—"

"What do you mean, 'this place?'" Anakin interjected sharply.

"Father," Luke said uncomfortably. "The Rebel base… We're on Mustafar."

Anakin froze and shut his eyes tightly. Just the mention of the place—he could feel his lungs burning again, he could feel the flames crawling up his skin, he could see the hazy shadow of Obi-Wan above him… He couldn't breathe—he was suffocating, gasping for air, but his lungs—they were burning, burning and he couldn't do it—

"Ani! Ani, what's wrong?"

He was jerked back to the present to see that an oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth in addition to the machine that was already oxygenating his blood. He coughed. He had been choking—suffocating like he had the day eighteen years earlier. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

"You mean—here?" Padmé gasped. "This is where you were hurt?"

"Let's stop talking about this," Luke said tightly. "I don't want to remember it any more than he does."

"She…" Anakin began. "She should know if she wants to," he said haltingly. "It explains… some of my actions, if it isn't justification."

"Father…" Luke began doubtfully. "I don't want to show her my dream—"

"NO!" Padmé suddenly screamed, launching herself back from her husband.

"Mother, what is it?" Leia asked worriedly.

Padmé stared at Anakin, horrified. Her dream, her dream—she had thought that it was her who was burning, that it was her whose lungs had inhaled the smoke and fumes—but it wasn't.

It had been Anakin.

Anakin.

He had lived it.

It had been real.

It was he whom the flames had destroyed, he who had slid towards the lava, trying desperately to claw his way back up, but no one had helped him. No one had stopped the flames from consuming him. He had lived it. He had burned.

"No," she gasped. "Please! It didn't happen! Please! Not fire, not fire, Anakin! Not you!"

"How…?" Luke asked, bewildered.

"I dreamt it," Padmé said quickly, her eyes filling with tears of horrible realization. "I dreamt it. I thought I was burning, I thought it was me… Ani, how did it happen? How did you live through it? My love, my dearest love!"

He said nothing, just let her return to him and stroke his chest, her fingers touching the bumps and ridges of the scar tissue that was the only parts of his skin that they had been able to salvage. For the rest they had had to culture skin, and graft it on. He felt wetness on his shoulder and saw that she was crying, and it pulled him back to the night on Mustafar so long before. "My love, what happened that night… A duel…"

"You mean…?" she said, looking up at him. "Obi-Wan…?"

He nodded, barely moving his head. "No…" Padmé whispered. "He couldn't have! He left you to burn? He left you there, to burn alive? Obi-Wan is responsible for this?" The anger grew in his eyes and she stood. "I will kill him," she said tightly.

"He is one with the Force, now," said Anakin quietly. "I already killed him. When Luke was fourteen and ran away to Tatooine."

"They didn't think you could come back," said Luke suddenly. "They thought you were lost forever."

"What do you mean, 'they?'" Anakin asked, confused. "Come back from the Dark Side?"

"Yoda and Obi-Wan," said Luke sheepishly. "Obi-Wan is a ghost."

"Yoda? Yoda is still alive?" Anakin questioned in disbelief.

"Don't get any ideas," said Leia darkly, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Anakin winced.

"Stop it, Leia," said Padmé sternly.

"She has every right," said Anakin wearily. "Help me sit up, please," he told Padmé, who immediately obliged him. He turned to Leia. "I am so sorry," he said quietly. "What happened on the Death Star… Leia, I had no idea. That doesn't excuse my actions, but…"

She nodded tightly and said nothing. He faltered. "I need to… What am I going to do?" he asked suddenly.

"What do you mean, my love?" Padmé asked concernedly.

"I need to get to Bain," said Anakin heavily. "Luke, once I am recovered from this operation, will you take me there?"

"Why? What's Bain?" Padmé asked nervously.

"My world," said Anakin quietly, as though ashamed of himself.

"And what is there?"

"A suit," said Anakin truthfully.

Padmé stood sharply. "No. Never put one of those blasted things on ever again. Anakin, I won't have it. I'll die before I see you in it."

"Mother," Leia said uncomfortably.

"What?"

"It's a life-support suit," said Leia, trailing off.

"I can't live without it, Padmé," Anakin replied hoarsely. Her lower lip trembled. "Don't cry for me, my love," he said tenderly. He strained and lifted his arm—his right arm—to touch a metallic finger to her cheek.

"We need to go to Bain for another reason," said Luke off-handedly.

"Why?"

"I… sort of pledged your fleet and your Imperial knowledge to the Rebellion to get medical help for you," said Luke quietly.

Anakin let out a hoarse laugh. "You did?"

"Are you angry?"

"No," said Anakin, his features twisted into a smile. "I was going to anyway. My destroyers are fully manned, you know."

"They're what?"

"And loyal to me," Anakin added. "Should be nice additions to the Rebel fleet."

Suddenly the door to the room opened and Mon Mothma stepped inside. "Your 2-1B surgeon said you were ready for visitors," she said stiffly, not making eye contact with Vader.

"Lady Mothma," said Anakin, and he straightened and his voice grew slightly deeper, and less hoarse.

She gave a little bow. "Lord Vader." If she noticed his subtle flinch or that Padmé turned away at the mention of the name, she said nothing. "Am I correct in assuming that you were formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight?"

"Yes," said Vader firmly.

"He still is," said Padmé, interrupting. "And he wishes to be known once more by that name. His true name."

"Lady Amidala"—Mothma began uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that you have not yet been approved as a member of the High Command. You have no authority here, I'm afraid."

"I speak as Padmé Naberrie," Padmé continued boldly. "As Anakin Skywalker's wife."

For a second, Mothma lost control of her blank political mask. "He's your husband?" she said, shocked.

Padmé inclined her head once while Anakin said nothing. "We believed each other dead," said Anakin swiftly. "She is loyal to the Rebellion."

"That's… That's not what I was wondering," said Mothma weakly. "If you're married, then Princess Leia…"

"Luke and Leia are twins," said Padmé with a small smile. "I kept the knowledge secret for personal reasons."

"I see," said Mothma, clearing her expression. "Very well. Luke informed me that you had pledged certain services to the Rebel cause, Lord Vader," she said. "I wish to know if that is accurate."

"It is," Anakin replied with a nod of his head. "I have been somewhat…misguided in my political allegiances. And personal ones," he added. "No longer am I the apprentice to Emperor Palpatine, nor the commander of the Imperial Military."

"Do you request membership to the Alliance?" Mothma asked in surprise.

"I…" Anakin faltered. "I don't think that I would be welcome," he said at last.

"But you're willing?" Mothma asked, astonished.

"If the goal of the Alliance is to destroy Palpatine, then yes," he said firmly. "It must be done."

"I will bring this up to the High Command," Mothma said finally. "Recover well, Lord V"—she paused. "Master Jedi."

Once she left, Anakin slumped back into the pillows as though the effort of speaking to her had been too much. "Are you all right?" Padmé asked worriedly.

He nodded, ignoring the pain in his neck from the operation. "Padmé… The destruction of Palpatine is not as easy as it sounds."

"But you're the Chosen One," said Padmé, furrowing her brow. "You can do it."

He shook his head slowly. "I can't."

"Why not? You've come back from the Dark Side!" Padmé said desperately. "You have!"

"I have, my love," Anakin reassured her. "But I am no longer capable of doing so."

"I don't understand," said his wife, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I can explain."

They all turned to see the bluish, glowing form of a man they all knew.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé said in surprise. She stood. "You have a lot of explaining to do," she said tightly. "How dare you? How dare you do that to him?"

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin said in surprise. Intense pain and remorse swept across his face. "Master… For everything I've done…I'm sorry…"

The glowing form of his former master drifted over to Anakin's bedside and 'sat' in a chair. "Anakin," he said gently. "How proud I am of you."

Anakin choked back tears. "Master… I failed you. I failed the Jedi."

"Disappointed, perhaps," said Obi-Wan quietly, though his face showed his heavy-heartedness. "But you haven't failed, my dear padawan. Not yet."

"How can you say that?" Anakin asked uncomprehendingly. "Master, I killed them all! I murdered them!" Beside him, Padmé stifled a sob.

"But you haven't failed," said Obi-Wan. "You still live. As does Darth Sidious. You will fulfill your destiny, Anakin. You are the Chosen One. You have proven yourself to be when you renounced the Dark Side."

Anakin shut his eyes. "But I can't, Obi-Wan. You know I can't."

"Not in your present condition," Obi-Wan agreed, wincing.

"What are you talking about?" Padmé questioned. "Why can't he?"

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. "Let me explain," he said heavily.