It takes a few days before I am able to find any time to contact anyone. I have been decidedly busy these past few days. Palpatine has given me living quarters in a star cruiser near the battle station, this "Death Star," which is currently little more than a giant web of metal.

Though I'm terrified of what we are building, the actual building of it is monotonous and boring. At this point most of it involves using mind tricks to convince suppliers to give Palpatine the materials he wants for whatever price he wants—a price usually around nothing. I'm told later on when the station gets so that clone troopers are actually on board, I'll be on ship with them directly supervising their construction.

What worries me most is that however carefully I study the plans Palpatine's given me, I can't seem to find any weakness, meaning that if we ever actually finish building this, the Empire's death grip on the galaxy will be strong enough that no one will dare resist. And then even if I'm not his apprentice, he'll still control me. He can say, Anakin, do this, or I'll destroy the planet where Luke is. Do this or I'll destroy the planet Obi-wan's on. Or Leia. Or Padme.

Padme. I need to hear her voice. I need to hear her forgive me. I need to hear she still loves me.

But that's not the only reason I need to contact them as soon as possible. I'm afraid that despite what I told Palpatine I'm slipping back towards the Dark Side. I don't want to believe it. But I feel like the hate I feel is starting to slip into me, to become part of me, to become normal. I hate the feeling of hate. Hate consumes me and makes me blind.

And tonight I have the chance to contact them. Palpatine is trying to convince the producer of some particularly strong plastic, supposedly a very stubborn person, to supply him with several hundred tons of his plastic at no cost. Apparently my Force powers aren't strong enough to convince him. So Palpatine's left me with nothing to do but contact my friends.

I contact Obi-wan first.

"Hello, Obi-wan," I say with a weary, but genuine smile.

"Anakin," he answers warmly. But his smile falls away quickly in favor of a more serious look. "Have you found anything at all?" he asks.

I get straight to the point. "Palpatine's building a space station," I inform him reluctantly. "He calls it the Death Star. It can destroy an entire planet."

I watch his face grow pale. His eyes close momentarily before opening, wide with shock and sick with fear. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice shaking.

"Yes," I confirm, nodding my head. "I've been helping build it."

He looks at me angrily. "You're what?"

I wince at the look on his face. "Obi-wan, we have a deal. I'm helping him with the station and he's going to leave you alone forever. You're safe now."

He looks disgusted. "Do you think anyone would want to have billions of people die because of them, Anakin?"

I evade the question. "It's not as bad as it sounds," I say, "I have access to all the plans for it, so that should help us find some way to stop it."

"Have you found any weaknesses in the design?" he asks.

"No," I admit, "but I'm still looking. I'm thinking we'll have to go after Palpatine sooner than later. Once he gets this ship operational, I don't see how we could oppose him."

He nods his agreement. "I definitely think a confrontation will be necessary sooner than later."

We talk for a while, making plans and discussing the future. Eventually, and with some reluctance, I steer the conversation in a different direction.

"How's Leia doing?" I ask, biting my lip as I wait to hear the answer.

He shrugs a little and wobbles his head from side to side. "She's in fairly good condition," he informs me, "she's going to be fine."

A grin lights up my features. "That's wonderful!" I say, restraining myself from bouncing out of my chair.

He smiles forlornly. "It is," he acknowledges, "but you didn't let me finish. There might be permanent neural damage, or any of a dozen other complications."

I droop momentarily, but perk up quickly. "Just 'might?'"

"As I said, there is only a possibility of any complications—" he begins. I cut him off.

"Leia's a Skywalker. She'll be fine," I say happily.

Considerably happier than I was when this conversation started, I ask, "Have you managed to see Qui-Gon?"

He nods ruefully. "I feel like such an idiot. He's been trying to contact me all these years, and I never once saw or heard him."

"What'd he say?" I ask eagerly. "Is he showing you how to become a ghost—thingy?"

"He is," Obi-wan confirms with a nod of his head. "But it's going to take years!"

"He wouldn't tell me," I say bitterly. But then, I have an idea. "Will you?" I ask hopefully.

He cringes slightly, and drops his gaze. "Actually—I really can't—"

"Not you too!" I moan. "Obi-wan—why not?"

"I don't really know," he says miserably, "but Master Qui-Gon says I can't—"

"And of course we wouldn't want to go against Master Qui-Gon, now would we."

"Anakin, please—"

"Let me talk to Padme," I interrupt sharply.

"Yes—" he says vaguely, "in fact—was going to—suggest—good idea—"

"Obi-wan."

He looks back up at me and his eyes are wet. I feel a sharp pang of guilt. I love you, Obi-wan, I say silently, to myself. And I'm sorry.

"She's in the medcenter still, with Leia," he says abruptly, blinking his eyes. "I'll get her."

He places the commlink down, on the desk, it looks like, so all I can see are piles of paper.

I sit perfectly still for a moment, and try to reach into Padme's mind with the Force. I brace myself for any number of unpleasant things. But where my beautiful Padme usually is, I find nothing.

Silence.

Emptiness.

At once a wave of fear sweeps over me. What have I done? Padme?

I frown. The Force still has that unusual feel I noticed right after Luke and Leia's birth. I have mostly ignored it since then. But maybe whatever has changed the Force so much is blocking me from finding Padme. Maybe…

I hear noises. A door opening, and muttering. Then Padme picks up the commlink and my angel sweeps into view.

But—it isn't my Padme. Her hair is matter around her face, which appears hollow and white. Her lips are dry and cracked.

But what scares me most are her eyes. Her eyes are completely empty. I can't find any emotion in her—no anger. No sadness.

Nothing.

"Padme," I say tenderly, "I've missed you."

"Anakin," she says dully.

"What have you been doing the past few days?" I ask tentatively, trying to draw her into some form of conversation.

I seems to work. Her eyes light up, and she becomes my Padme again.

"I've been with our daughter—Anakin—Palpatine—he said that you—" here she begins whispering, and speaking very rapidly. "He said that you hurt her—and I didn't believe him but—oh, Ani, I was so stupid, but please, he was lying wasn't he, please, he must have been lying." She stares at me, and she's still my Padme, but she's afraid, she's scared. I can see that despite her claims to the contrary, she does believe Palpatine at least partially.

I could lie. I want to lie, so badly. But I don't. "Padme," I say slowly, "I had too—"

She looks at me—looks through me—with a mask of horror clouding her eyes. She shakes her head. "I don't know you. You aren't my Ani. My Ani would never—"

"Padme, please!" I beg desperately, "I love you!"

"I know," she says, withdrawing into herself again.

"You don't understand," I tell her, "it wasn't how you think it was—if you'd let me explain—"

"I don't need to hear the details of what you did to my daughter, Anakin," she says listlessly. "I don't want to hear it."

"Please, Padme, let me— I love you—"

"If you care anything for me, or your children, then never come near us again."

"Padme—"

"Goodbye, Ani," she says. The connection breaks off.

I lean back in my chair, all happiness dissolved.

I feel the same hollowness she was showing. I need Padme. I need her to love me.

I sink down, suddenly exhausted.

I can't go on like this for much longer. I have to kill Palpatine, and soon.

Next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by a clone trooper. "Lord Vader, sir. The Emperor has returned, and he commands you report to him at once."

With a feeling of infinite dread, I dismiss the clone and shake myself awake. Slowly, I head down the hall towards his offices aboard the ship and wonder what I'm in for now.

A/N

As you can see, my MS Word is working again. We now have bold and italics! Yay!

Anyway, sorry for lack of update last week but I was grounded from the computer for being a 'smart mouth.' Anyway, the next part of this story will be posted later today to make up for it. Please review, it means a lot to me. I know a lot of you have probably lost interest in this story due to slow updates, but it would be really awesome if these next two chapters sent the review count over 200.

Padfoot

Oh, and also—would anyone be too terribly upset by the death of a major character? That's kind of what I was planning on happening, but if you all are too upset by that I can revise it.

I know not much happens in this chapter, but I personally like it and it is setting up for the final climax which is coming up soon.