"Anakin," a deep voice broke in. "Anakin. Anakin!"
Vader started, his eyes snapping open. Master Qui-Gon stood before him. Was this another vision—or nightmare—where Master Qui-Gon told him how disappointed he was in him?
No, Vader was very much awake. "What are you doing here?"
"I have been sent here on a very specific task. I have come to deliver to you part of the message the Force is sending you. Right now, I am the Ghost of Lives Past," Master Qui-Gon said. His hands were folded in front of him and he was standing, not blue or see-through, right in front of Vader.
"Long past?" Vader asked, hoping beyond hope he'd be sent to see the misery of other Sith Lords and their gruesome ends.
"Your past."
Of course. He could never be so lucky.
Qui-Gon extended his hand to him. "Come with me. We shall travel into the shadows of your past and witness the things that once were."
Vader stood, but did not take Qui-Gon's hand. "I cannot travel anywhere outside this capsule without my suit on. I will not be able to breathe." And call him stubborn, but he refused to put it on until he was good and ready. He wasn't ready.
Qui-Gon put a hand on Anakin's chest. "Bear but a touch of my hand here, and you will be upheld in more than this."
Vader began to breathe easier than he had in years, since he had before Mustafar. In simple gratitude to what the ghost had done for him, he took Qui-Gon's hand without arguing or fighting.
The pod melted away from them. Bright, burning sand coalesced around them. Twin suns beat down on them.
Vader swallowed down a complaint. Tatooine. They were standing in the streets of Mos Espa, in the slave quarters.
"Do you recognize this?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Of course I do, you old fool," Vader said. "I was a boy here." He had given up trying to pretend Anakin Skywalker was a different person than himself when he had found Luke Skywalker was alive and well. Even after twenty years, he hadn't managed to convince himself of it. It had been a fruitless exercise.
A much younger, more foolish version of himself ran by in homespun, laughing, golden hair shining in the setting suns. Wald, a young Rodian slave his former friend ran with him. Kitster ran after them, hot on their heels. He reached out. His fingertips barely brushed Anakin's tunic.
"Tag! You're it!" Kitster crowed.
"Nuh-uh! You barely touched my shirt! That doesn't count!" Anakin protested.
"It does too," Kitster said.
The three boys came to a stop in the dusty streets heaving for breath.
"No, it doesn't!" Anakin said. "You didn't even touch me, you touched my clothes."
Wald came closer. "I'm not sure that should count, Kitster. We aren't our clothes."
Kitster rolled his eyes and slapped his hand down on Anakin's shoulder. "Is that better?"
Wald shrugged. "I guess so."
Anakin tried to suppress a grin. "But we were on timeout!"
"You didn't say timeout!" Kitster protested.
Anakin inched closer to Wald. He slapped him on the shoulder and took off running, laughing. "Tag! You're it!"
"Hey!" Wald cried out. "Anakin, you trickster! Come back here!" He bolted after him, Kitster close behind.
"Ani! Time for dinner!"
Vader froze along with his younger counterpart. That voice. That…haunting voice. The voice he'd tried to erase from his memory. The voice that never failed to move him.
Mom.
Young Anakin shrugged. "I've gotta go. See you tomorrow!"
"Bye!" Kitster and Wald chorused.
Anakin disappeared into his house, Mom close behind him.
"What's this? Is that a tear upon your cheek?" Qui-Gon asked.
"No," Vader retorted. "I haven't been able to cry since Mustafar." Nevertheless, he swiped at his cheeks, surprised to find them wet.
Odd.
"Let's see another day," Qui-Gon said.
The time of day changed. The people on the streets disappeared. A man appeared sitting on his stoop. Master Qui-Gon stood at the end of the street with an older Anakin, backpack slung over his shoulder and ready to become a Jedi.
Ignorant fool. Bitterness arose in Vader's throat. If only he had known what was going to happen, he might have never left Tatooine.
Anakin slowed and turned around. He ran to his mother, who stood at her doorstep. He received a hug and a kiss. "I can't do it, Mom. I just can't do it."
Vader touched his own cheek. It seemed smoother than it should be.
He frowned and pushed it away. He took in his mother hungrily.
"Ani," Mom said.
"Will I ever see you again?" Anakin asked, close to tears.
"What does your heart tell you?" Mom asked.
Tears streamed down Vader's cheeks. He wouldn't see her again, not until she was suffering and dying. It wasn't fair. "Take me away from this. Why do you torture me?"
"You had a purpose, Anakin," Qui-Gon said. "A destiny. Your mother knew this. That is why she sent you away. She knew you were meant for more than the life of a slave. Why have you given yourself back into slavery?"
"I said take me away!" Vader spun on Qui-Gon. "I don't need to see this!"
"You were happy once," Qui-Gon said. "Do you remember?"
"You really don't like politicians, do you?"
Vader flinched. He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to look around.
It was her.
"I like two or three. But I'm not really sure about one of them," a young, brash Padawan Anakin Skywalker said.
He laughed, and she laughed with him.
Padmé.
Vader opened his eyes. He was standing in a meadow, a beautiful Nubian meadow, and Padmé—oh, Padmé—was sitting in the middle next to foolish Anakin Skywalker.
Happy Anakin Skywalker.
Vader barely listened as young Anakin half-teased Padmé with his lack of knowledge or conviction about the political system.
And then they both started laughing. Again.
Vader drank in the sight of his angel laughing. Happy. "I miss you," he whispered. "Come back to me."
Shaaks appeared in the field. Anakin balanced on top of one of them badly, laughing as he rode by a laughing Padmé. He fell off. The shaak jumped over him. Anakin faked failing to get up.
Padmé ran for him. "Ani! Ani, are you all right?"
She turned Anakin over. He was laughing, hard. Padmé slapped him. Laughing, they turned over and over, rolling down the hill. Padmé ended up on top, and they lay there, laughing at each other some more.
Vader's face ached. He felt it to try and figure out why.
He was smiling.
The scene melted away. Anakin and Padmé were standing before a priest, getting married. C-3PO and R2-D2 looked on.
Vader sighed before he could help himself. His heart ached for the time that was.
All right. He would admit it. He missed the way it used to be.
Why else did life seem so pointless now?
"Life wasn't always a honeymoon on Naboo," Vader reminded Qui-Gon.
"Indeed. And yet you were still happy, weren't you?"
Naboo melted away to show a break room on the Resolute. Anakin, with the dark armor and shortish-longish hair that marked the height of his knightship, was sprawled out at a table, cards in his hand. Ahsoka sat across from him, cards in her hands as well. She glared at him. Rex, in between the two on one side of the table, laughed. Obi-Wan, in between them on the other side, just stroked his chin and stared at his cards.
"Master, do you have any twos?" Ahsoka asked.
"Nope," Anakin said. "Go fish, Snips."
Ahsoka scowled and took a card from the pile on the table. "Your turn, Master Obi-Wan."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said.
"What?" Anakin asked.
"Do you have any sevens?"
"Why's everyone picking on me?" Anakin asked.
Obi-Wan laughed. "Because it's fun to see you react. Sevens, Anakin."
"Go fish," Anakin retorted. "All right, Ahsoka, have any eights?"
Ahsoka scowled and handed over two cards. "How do you always know?"
Anakin grinned. "It's called skill, Ahsoka." He set four cards down on the table.
"You sure it's not called cheating?" Ahsoka asked.
Anakin ignored her. "Obi-Wan, you got any fives?" Anakin asked.
"Go fish," Obi-Wan responded.
Anakin heaved a put-upon sigh and grabbed a card from the pile. "Your turn, Rex."
"All right, general. Do you have any tens?" Rex fingered his cards.
"Rex!" Anakin cried out.
They all burst into laughter.
Vader reached out a hand to the scene before he could help himself. Snips. Rex.
Obi-Wan.
They had been so happy. And on the rare occasions he got to be with Padmé, he had even happier.
"It's…it's…it's the Jedi's fault it all came crashing down," Vader managed.
"Is it really?" Qui-Gon commented drily.
The world shifted around them. They were standing in a large, dark room with a throne at one end. Ahsoka was standing there as she had looked the last time he had seen her before he…before he…
Well. Before he became this.
Across from her stood Maul.
Maul? What was this? "What is going on? When is this?" Vader asked.
"This was during the Siege of Mandalore," Qui-Gon said. "Now hush."
Vader obediently quieted, incredibly curious. This was an exchange he hadn't been witness to, and he was unsure of the outcome. He knew neither combatant perished here, but that was all.
Maul paced in front of Ahsoka as explosions rocked outside. "Were you not cast out of your Order?"
Vader stiffened with anger at the memory, his hands curling into fists. That was one of the things he wasn't sure he could ever forgive the Jedi for.
Ahsoka, however, was not moved. "I left voluntarily." No bitterness, no anger, just matter-of-fact.
The anger at the Jedi melted into hurt that stabbed into Vader's heart. Yes, he had almost forgotten that. In the end, she had been welcomed back, by him and the others.
And she had left him anyway.
Why does everyone leave me?
"Ye…yes, but you were motivated to leave by the hypocrisy of the Jedi Council," Maul pressed.
Indeed she had. The Jedi had been full of hypocrites. How was this supposed to convince him the Jedi weren't responsible for the collapse of the galaxy? Even Ahsoka had no response for that.
But Maul wasn't done. "We were both tools for greater powers." More explosions punctuated his words.
Vader tried to ignore those words, but he couldn't. The Jedi had used him as a tool, yes, but they had also cared about him. Obi-Wan had deceived him terribly with Rako Hardeen, but he'd blown up at Anakin later after one too many cold shoulders yelling that he thought Anakin would understand him doing anything to keep Palpatine alive, because Anakin cared more for that man than for Obi-Wan. The Council used him to spy on Palpatine, but with what he knew now of Palpatine and his plans, he could hardly blame them. In fact, it was remarkable it took the fools so long to finally be suspicious of the man. But Palpatine, that man had used Vader as a tool like no one else had. And Palpatine didn't care for him at all.
"I am here to bring you to justice," Ahsoka insisted.
"Justice is merely the construct of the current power base," Maul said. "A base which, mm, according to my calculations, is about to change."
"And Darth Sidious is behind it?" Ahsoka asked.
Maul kept glancing around the room, unable to settle on one thing to focus on. "He is behind everything, in shadows, always, but soon, very soon…" He sighed. "He will reveal himself."
"With your help, the Jedi can stop Sidious before it's too late," Ahsoka said.
Vader's heart pounded hard. Still, even after such betrayal, she had such faith in the Jedi.
Maul was incredulous at her words. "Too late for what? The Republic to fall? It already has, and you just can't see it! There is no justice, no law, no order, except for the one that will replace it! The time of the Jedi has passed. They cannot defeat Sidious." Maul turned to her. "But together, you and I can. Every choice you have made has led you to this moment." He stuck out his hand for her to take.
Of course. Maul didn't truly have the welfare of the galaxy at heart, but revenge against his former master and desire for conquest. And he had tried to seduce his apprentice to help him do it. He'd tried to turn his Snips to the Dark Side. Vader almost felt for his lightsaber before he remembered this had already happened and nothing he could do would change these events.
The window exploded. Sparks and shards of glass flew past Ahsoka and Maul, and the specters of Vader and Qui-Gon standing there. Ahsoka was quiet for a few seconds, gazing off at the floor, then she turned to Maul.
"I will help you," she said.
A protectiveness Vader hadn't felt in a long time sprang into him. He withdrew his lightsaber and ignited it, storming in between his former apprentice that had been foolish enough to agree to join up with a Sith Lord and the Sith Lord that had been foolish enough to seduce her. He pointed the red blade at Maul's neck. "You get away from her," he snarled. "She is not ready to face Sidious! And she should never, ever be your apprentice. What can you teach her except pain and misery and failure?"
"These are but shadows of things that have been," Qui-Gon said calmly.
Anakin ignored him, resolutely keeping himself between his apprentice and Maul. It didn't matter whether or not he could influence the things of the past. He wouldn't take a chance on it and let Maul get past him to hurt Ahsoka.
The tableau resumed, even though Vader hadn't been aware it had stopped.
"But you must answer one question," Ahsoka continued. "What do you want with Anakin Skywalker?"
Vader jumped and spun around to face Ahsoka. Anakin Skywalker? But all Maul cared about was Kenobi. Why should Maul be concerned with him?
"He is the key to everything," Maul said, lowering his hand.
Vader turned back to him, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. Such talk made sense from the Jedi with their Chosen One nonsense, but not from Maul.
"To bring balance to the Force?" Ahsoka asked.
Maul seemed almost confused as he continued. "To destroy," he corrected. "He has long been groomed for his role…as my master's new apprentice."
Oh. Oh. Vader dropped his lightsaber, feeling almost sick and unsure why. Didn't this just show that Palpatine had foreseen the future, been planning for this for years?
But Vader had convinced himself the Jedi were wrong, and he had really been destined for the Dark Side all along, that all his struggles with their Code and rules had been because he was so different from them. The way Maul stated it made it sound as if many of his struggles, his arguments and conflicts and unhappiness, had stemmed not from something inherent in Anakin or the Jedi, but from Palpatine. Anakin hadn't been the one directing his own path, controlling his destiny. It had been Palpatine all along. Palpatine had shown him the way and he, like a foolish child that didn't know any better, had simply walked it as he had been led.
"You lie," Ahsoka protested.
"I'm afraid not. In fact, I was so certain of his fate that I orchestrated this war to lure him here with Kenobi to kill him, thus depriving Sidious of his prized pupil." Maul pointed at the broken window as if Sidious were right out there fawning over Anakin.
Vader's lightsaber fell from his fingers. He stooped and clipped the lightsaber back to his belt, tamping down his urge to be sick (and wasn't that odd? He hadn't been able to really eat or vomit on his own since Mustafar). Prized pupil. Try slave. That was what Sidious had wanted all along. The galaxy as his playground and Vader as his slave. This was all Palpatine's fault. Even Maul knew it, though he had stopped being Palpatine's apprentice just at the time they had met Anakin for the first time. The Jedi had just been tools used by Palpatine to accomplish his goals. Just as he was. Just as they all had been.
"I know Anakin." Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers, the lightsabers he had made blue and carried with him everywhere in the hopes he'd meet her again. Maul growled as she spoke further. "Your vision is flawed."
Vader's eyes filled with tears, pride battling with a heart sickness. Just as he had been about to fall, Ahsoka had been willing to stake her life and the galaxy on her faith in his unwillingness to fall.
He didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve any of them.
And he wasn't on Mandalore anymore, but Coruscant. The sun was setting, and Padmé—oh, Padmé—was boarding her yacht, Threepio right behind her. Her pregnant belly was large with their child. Luke.
"My lady, let me come with you," Captain Typho begged.
"There is no danger; the fighting's over, and this is personal," Padmé said.
Pain stabbed Vader's chest. No danger. She had trusted him implicitly. It never even occurred to her that he might be a danger to him.
Where was Obi-Wan? He had been on the ship too. She had brought him to Mustafar to kill him.
"As you wish, milady, but I strongly disagree," Captain Typho said.
"I'll be all right, Captain," Padmé said. "This is something I must do myself. Besides, Threepio will look after me."
Vader snorted. As if Threepio could ever be a defense against an angry Sith Lord. He probably couldn't be a defense against an angry loth-cat.
"She puts a lot of faith in that droid," Qui-Gon commented.
"Shut up," Vader replied.
Padmé boarded the ship. Threepio said, "Oh, dear," and followed her.
And still no Obi-Wan.
As Threepio disappeared onto the ship, a brown figure arose from in between a bunch of crates and walked onto the ship in a swift crouch.
Hot pain stabbed Vader. He stumbled back, tears filling his eyes. Obi-Wan had snuck onto the ship. Padmé hadn't betrayed him.
"This is all my fault," he gasped. "I betrayed her. I turned on her. I hurt her when she only wanted to help me."
Coruscant turned into Mustafar. Vader cringed, not wanting to see Padmé fall again.
Artoo beeped. He was rolling behind Obi-Wan, who was striding toward the yacht with singed robes. Threepio came down the ramp.
"Oh! Master Kenobi! I have Miss Padmé on board. Please, please hurry. We should leave this dreadful place."
Obi-Wan wearily clasped Threepio on the shoulder.
Vader's rigid muscles melted. He wasn't going to have to see his biggest mistake again. Maybe he was going to see how she managed to give birth to Luke before dying.
Vader was standing in front of Padmé, who was lying on one of the bunks. Obi-Wan walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She began to wake up.
"Obi-Wan," she whispered, breathing heavily. "Is Anakin all right?" She closed her eyes and passed out again.
Tears streamed down Vader's cheeks. Even after what he had done to her, she still cared about him. She still wanted to know if he was okay.
Then he was in a medical center. He was on one side of the glass with Obi-Wan, Yoda, Bail Organa of all people, and Threepio and Artoo. Padmé was on the other side of the glass on the table surrounded by medical droids. A medical droid floated out to Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Bail.
"Medically, she's completely healthy."
What? Vader's head spun. Healthy? So he hadn't injured her at all with his… his… what he'd done? She'd been just fine?
"For reasons we can't explain, we're losing her." The medical droid folded its hands.
"She's dying?" Obi-Wan exclaimed.
"We don't know why. She has lost the will to live."
Vader buried his face in his hands, fighting despair. She was still dying. She was still gone.
"We need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies," the droid finished.
Vader's head snapped up. Babies? As in…plural? Multiple children?
"Babies?" Bail exclaimed.
The medical droid shrugged. "She's carrying twins."
"Twins," Vader whispered. "I have twins." Had they both lived? Were they both out there somewhere?
He was beside Padmé, who was crying out. A wide skirt protected her from prying eyes from the waist down. A medical droid stood at her feet. Obi-Wan stood at her head.
A baby's cry filled the air. The medical droid lifted a baby up.
Anakin reached out to the baby. His son. His fingers went right through the baby's forehead. He let out a cry.
The medical droid said something to Padmé. She replied, "Luke."
Luke. His baby. Anakin placed his fingers over his son's forehead, since he couldn't actually touch his son. "I would give my life for you, my son," he whispered. "Sidious will never get his hands on you, I guarantee it."
The droid placed Luke in Obi-Wan's arms. Luke squealed and cooed as Obi-Wan bent down to show him to Padmé.
She stroked his cheek and smiled. "Oh, Luke."
Then she cried out again. The medical droid spoke again. Another baby's cry filled the room.
The medical droid showed the new baby to Padmé. Anakin stared at the second child, the one he hadn't ever suspected was there.
"It's a girl," Obi-Wan said.
Anakin pumped his hand in the air. "I knew it! I told you it was a girl! I told you!"
"Leia!" Padmé gasped.
Oh. Oh.
Oh no.
Leia.
The feisty princess from Alderaan, Bail's daughter, Bail who was right there on the other side of the glass, the one who looked so much like Padmé and acted so much like him.
The one he had tortured on the Death Star. The one he had had such respect for, the one he knew would never crack, the one he almost didn't want Tarkin to execute.
Of course she was his daughter.
Of course.
"Obi-Wan," Padmé said, breathing heavily.
Anakin spun swiftly. "Padmé, please, I'm here. Don't go. Do not leave me, Padmé, please, just hold on." Tears spilled onto his cheeks. He reached out to her but faltered. His hands would just go straight through. "Don't…do not…do not lose the will to live. Live for our children, they need you, please!" He fell to his knees, folding his hands and letting his head drop on them. "Don't leave me."
"There's good in him," Padmé whispered. "I know. I know there's…still…" She let out one long last breath and died.
Anakin's breath caught in his chest. She died believing in him. Her last words were her belief that he could come back.
Luke began to cry. With a heavy heart, Anakin climbed to his feet.
Qui-Gon put a warm hand on his shoulder. "Come. Our time is almost up."
"I don't…want to leave them," Anakin said quietly, staring at his son and Padmé.
The white of Padmé's medical gown grew, overtook the world. And he was back in his medical capsule. Alone.
"Wait!" Anakin cried. He spun around, but Qui-Gon was gone. "Come back!"
"Ani?"
He froze. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.
He turned slowly, his heart pounding wildly, his lips dry. "Mom?"