Vader slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. To his dismay, it had not been a dream. He was, indeed, still on a homemade mattress in a tiny hut surrounded by endless seas of sand.

He swung his legs, which had been dangling off the end all night anyway, to the floor, feeling the cool ground beneath his feet. The rest of his naked body was drenched in sweat, still unadjusted to the lack of air conditioning.

As Vader searched the room for his garments, sifting through the pile of women's underclothes and a wrinkled azure nightdress, he heard a soft groan behind him and turned back to the bed.

"Good morning," Padmé whispered, still in the process of opening her eyes. Even with her brown curls frizzy and tangled, she was still as beautiful as an angel.

Overwhelmed by her beauty, he did not return the greeting, which she clearly interpreted as him being aggravated and inquired as to what was wrong.

Pulling on his borrowed pants, Vader scowled, the memories from the night before and the words they had exchanged rushing back.

"I don't want to talk," he stated simply.

"But we need to," Padmé insisted, pushing herself onto her elbows and reaching for a thin blanket to cover herself up. "I thought about everything, and I've reached a conclusion. I think the reason I have trouble calling you 'Anakin' sometimes is because I'm still associating the name with a little boy, and, well…you know, it's kind of creepy. But I really do want you to be Anakin and show me that he's more than that, and someone that I can fall in love with physically, as I have mentally."

"You don't get it, do you, Padmé?" Vader snapped, his anger boiling. He had to end this conversation quickly before he did anything he would regret. "Vader is not some fantasy roleplay character! He's a real person! He's me and that's not going to change!"

Vader forced himself to look away because, despite his anger, he still wanted her. He pulled on the rest of his clothing and strapped his lightsaber to his belt, heading for the door, but paused.

"I think we need to take a break," he mumbled.

"What?" Padmé asked, her footsteps growing closer behind him.

"We need to take a break from this, Padmé," he said again, turning to face her. Unable to meet her eyes, he focused instead on the blanket she held to her body as she stood in front of him, but maintained a reasonable distance. "I have something to finish, and after it's done, we can figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out, though," she responded, dropping the blanket and stepping closer to him. "You love me, right?"

"Don't do this, Padmé," Vader replied, gritting his teeth. "I have to go."

"To the Emperor?" she asked, assuming her Senator voice. "You know you can't face him alone. If you have to do this, at least let me contact the Alliance to help. Maybe I can talk some sense into them…help them see that you're a good person."

"No, Padmé!" Vader shouted. "I'm not a good person, and I can't sit around waiting for help from my enemies. I need to do this alone!"

"What if you don't come back?" she whispered, showing no fear at his outburst.

She was now standing directly below him, forcing him to look into her orbs and the pain they illuminated. Vader knew that her comment was in reference to the possibility that Sidious could defeat him in body. But he recognized another possibility- that he could be defeated in spirit. Sidious's offers and methods of torture had always been persuasive for him. If the dark lord still had use for him, he could easily reassume his former position in the galaxy, especially if the troops still supported him.

No. I won't let that happen again. Lord Vader is stronger than a slave.

With a final glance at the woman who had tamed the demon, he turned his back and marched up the stairs to the kitchen, where Anakin's family was setting breakfast on the table. He headed directly for his mother and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I have to go, Mom," he said, "There's something I have to take care of. But I'll come back for you, this time, I promise, and I'll give you a better life."

Shmi placed one hand on her son's cheek and he closed his eyes at her touch. "My life is here, with my family," she responded, "and you will always be a part of that."

Vader nodded, fighting the light emotions that threatened to overtake him. He exited the hut with a clear mind and a mission to accomplish.


Obi-Wan strode back to his ship disappointed, having discovered nothing useful on Corellia. There were no records of anyone named Heartkiller or Skywalker, and no visits from Lord Vader within the past couple years.

Suddenly, his communicator buzzed, signaling an audio call. He answered to the sound of static. Who could possibly be contacting him from such a distance?

"Kenobi," he said, trying to focus on the faint voice through the distortion.

"Ben! It's Ebony!" the voice replied.

Padmé's code name from the mission before her capture. "Ebony!" he shouted in response, quickening his pace to his ship. "Thank the heavens you're alright! Where are you?"

"I'm on Tatooine, Mos Eisley- a public communicator!" Padmé answered. "I need your help! Heartkiller has gone to eliminate his target alone."

"Stay where you are!" Obi-Wan instructed, boarding his vessel and sending some instructions to R4. "I'm coming to get you, and I'll send him some backup."

He disconnected the call, cursing himself for not thinking of Tatooine earlier. But was Anakin truly ignorant enough to think he could take down the Emperor alone? Or was it possible that something had happened to cause Lord Vader to reemerge? Regardless, this was their opportunity.

Lifting off, he placed a call to Mon Mothma and explained the situation.

"What if he doesn't want our help?" Mon asked. "If he isn't the man you think he is, he could turn on us and kill us all."

"I know, but that's a risk we need to take," said Obi-Wan. "He's our only real chance of taking down the emperor. Patch me through to Firmus- he'll have better luck reaching him and talking some sense into him."

"Hold on," Mon replied as the line went silent for a couple minutes. Then, "There's no response."

"What?" said Obi-Wan, his distress growing by the minute.

"There's no response from Piett," Mon explained. "It appears that the line he gave us to reach him is no longer connected. Is it possible we've been duped?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan answered, "but I think our best move is to evacuate the base just in case. I'll contact you as soon as I know more."

The Jedi set his course for the Outer Rim, desperately wishing he had listened to his friends and invested in a faster ship.


Piett's hands shook as he answered the incoming call on one of his many personal communicators (well, before a couple had been destroyed in the Emperor's fury) from his cell at the Imperial Palace, two guards clad in red listening in.

"This is Piett," he announced, hoping desperately that it wasn't Vader.

"Piett, it's Vader," the deep voice snapped, his worst fears confirmed. One of the guards exited the cell.

"Vader," Piett continued, clearing his throat. "It's good to hear from you."

"Listen, I need your help," his former leader replied. "Are the troops still loyal to me, as you say?"

"Yes, yes, they are," Piett replied, closing his eyes in shame of what he was about to do to a man who he'd begun to consider his friend.

"Good, because my plan is a go. Meet me at Space Port 13 in twelve standard hours to discuss specifics. Come alone," Vader instructed.

"Location confirmed. Piett out," Piett affirmed, ending the call and handing the communicator back to the guard.

The Emperor entered his cell, lips turned up in a deathly smirk. "You have done well, Piett," he sneered. "It appears that you will be spending some time away from this cell. I am truly glad we kept you alive."

Piett moaned as he hung his head in his hands, the pain of Sith lightning still radiating throughout his body. "Yes, my Lord," he responded. "It will be done."


Obi-Wan landed his speeder on the outskirts of the Lars' moisture farm, where, as he anticipated, Padmé was waiting for him clad in simple desert garb.

"Oh, Obi-Wan!" she shouted, throwing her arms around him. "Please help him!"

"It will be alright, Padmé," he replied, returning her hug. "But first, you must tell me what happened. Do you know where Anakin has gone?"

Padmé pulled away and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to wipe away the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

"Did he hurt you?" Obi-Wan gasped.

"No," Padmé answered quickly, clearing up his concern. "Not physically."

"Let's go inside," the Jedi suggested. "I think I should like to see Shmi, and perhaps we can all talk this over and figure out the best course of action."

Padmé nodded and he followed her to the hut, praying that their information would allow him to reach Anakin in time.


Vader waited impatiently in the back corner of the hangar of Space Port 13, watching Imperial mechanics fixing broken ships without giving him a second glance. The black robes he had "borrowed" from a traveler reminded him of his old uniform.

Finally, Piett appeared, and Vader turned away from him into a corridor that led outside, signaling for him to follow.

"You're late," Vader growled when they had reached a reasonably concealed location on his chosen platform."

"I apologize, my Lord," Piett responded. "I was a bit tied up."

Vader looked Piett up and down, noticing that he looked different. Wrong. His skin was paler, and he had lost weight. And his palms were oily, shining with sweat…

"How are you handling the pressure of your new position?" Vader asked.

"Fine, my Lord," Piett replied. "Not as well as you did, I suppose."

"I see," Vader continued. "Have you had much contact with the Emperor?"

"Not much," Piett responded with a noticeable gulp. Vader glanced at his left ear, where a tiny, barely noticeable earpiece was attached, feeding him instructions and recording his every word.

I'm being set up.

"That's good to hear," said Vader, resuming his walk with Piett falling into step beside him. He casually moved closer to a fighter ship with no crew aboard, but appeared to be in solid condition. "What do you think of this ship, Piett?"

"I'm sorry?" his former officer replied.

"What do you think of it?" Vader asked again. "The paint looks fresh, the engine in top shape, but the dashboard controls might betray its appearance. I'd like to have a look."

Vader stepped on the footrest, pushing himself up into the open cockpit.

"Please don't do that," said Piett, his voice cracking.

Vader glanced around the platform from his newly elevated position and witnessed Stormtroopers approaching rapidly from multiple directions.

"I'm sorry, Piett," Vader responded as he pressed the "power" button, the glass bubble closing around him as troopers fired their guns. He lifted the ship and focused all his energy on the sky, anticipating Imperial fighters on his tail at any minute. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Padmé had been right.

Damn you, Sidious, Vader shouted, opening up his Force bond with his former Master for just a moment. Damn you!


Hello everyone! As usual, I have not forgotten this story. I know that updates have been horribly slow, but real life does unfortunately have its priorities. I still read your reviews and have no plans to abandon this story. Thanks so much to my new followers and everyone that has been with me since Chapter 1. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful and patient readers. I will not give you a timeframe as to when the next chapter will be uploaded, but I can say that it will probably be closer to the summer months.

Best regards,

Lyanna