4 ABY

Aanakin stood staring straight up through the small opening on Coruscant's endless levels. He was so far down that daylight failed to penetrate and city seemed to collide with city and the end of his vision. He hadn't been to Coruscant's lower levels since chasing down the former padawan, Ahsoka. Things had clearly changed.

Quickly consulting a directional display with half its lights out, Aanakin swiftly moved east, pulling his hood up as he went. He wasn't far from an access tube- large rounded access ports to make traveling between levels easier. The port was hardly busier than the walkway to it had been. Aliens of all species moved about slowly, as though they had very little reason to be there at all. Finding a taxi waiting under a working street lamp, Aanakin quickly stepped over the side and gestured at the old Balosar in the pilot seat. His twin tentacles twitched slightly as Aanakin's slight force push persuaded him to launch the speeder without pay.

It rose swiftly though the levels and Aanakin finally began to see level numbers. They were at 3097. He blinked. Had Coruscant managed to grow so much during the Empire? He seemed to recall the cloning facility was only on level 2883. Several had been added since, callusing the level to inadvertently lower.

The speeder stopped at 3003 and shifted into traffic moving west towards the Imperial Palace. Aanakin held the edge of his owl down against the wind of their movement and kept a sharp eye on his surroundings. He'd only seen two other humans so far- only aliens of various races mingled on the walkways and bridges. At 3003 there was far more traffic, both foot and speeder, with storefronts brightly lit in a variety of languages pushing their wares.

A sudden piercing smell caused him to jerk back to the driver. He quickly grabbed the small white object from his hand and threw it over the side. His voice carried the practiced weight he'd utilized these last twenty years; "No death sticks."
"Of course, sir. Sorry, sir." The Balosar's head bobbed in apology but Aanakin's thoughts had already strayed again. How easy it was to intimidate those around him into doing his bidding.

He'd come back from the Dark Side. Luke and drawn him back – he'd avenged his son, his former master, and all the Jedi when he'd thrown Palpatine- the Emperor- down into the depths of the second Death Star. He pulled the hood tightened against his forehead, feeling ashamed. Guilty. Very alone. He'd ruined everything. He'd had a chance long ago to end Palpatine's reign before it started and he hadn't taken it. He'd let the Dark Lord live- bowed to him!

The speeder had stopped. Aanakin looked up, silently chastising himself for losing his focus on the present. They weren't anywhere near the Imperial Palace. A huge wall built of durocrete stood before them with signs of warning hung all over and bio scanners were erected in heavily guarded entryways.

"End of the line. Go through there to get where you wanna go." His pilot said brokenly. Aanakin frowned.

NO NONHUMANS BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT ESCORT

Several of the signs read. When had the non-human population been corralled into one area of the city? He nodded his thanks and climbed from the speeder, again giving him a push to forget about payment. He stood at the rail for a moment, anxious about the Bio Scanners but pretending to scan the crowded walkway as though looking for someone. No one gave him a second glance, something he was attempting to get used to. The stillness of his thoughts caught up with him. While he remembered being Vader, he himself was little more than a clone. Only hours had passed since he'd been activated and he could probably focus on any of his uploaded memories as though they'd happened yesterday. It was so easy to just become Anakin Skywalker- Darth Vader. He turned swiftly, walking up the ramp, past the stormtroopers who were half asleep in their armor, and through the Bio Scanner. It remained silent. He let out his breath before moving down the rows of speeders to another waiting taxi.

Traffic got heavier the further up he travelled from the non-human sector until the speeder finally climbed out from the artificial caverns of Coruscant's underworld to open air. Aanakin watched the speeder lanes cross- cross under him as they grew closer to the Palace Distract. The artificial terrain began to look more familiar to him as they neared the Palace. As Vader he rarely had much business in the city aside from a few trips to the Senate Building before the Senate was disbanded and the complex built over.

The Senate Apartment Complex, too, had since been built over, but he'd always kept an eye on it during his visits to the capitol city. With a silent gesture, Aanakin mentally redirected his driver to a new destination. After a moment, the taxi pulled alongside an abandoned dwelling nearly 150 levels lower than its original placement. Aanakin climbed out onto the steps and waved his ride away. He didn't move. He couldn't. Her essence filled him. Her very being seemed to permeate his soul. He'd managed to keep the apartment he'd shared with Senator Padme Amidala on those fleeting nights during the Clone Wars vacant and untouched.

Slowly, he entered. The fountain stood silent- the water long evaporated and the bowl cracked. The furniture was covered in a layer of dust several times thicker than he remembered. How long had it been since he'd last visited? It would have been before he discovered Luke. Before he began combing the galaxy for him. And then Leia. They'd had two babies.

Dust swirled around his feet as he moved towards the bedroom. The dim, dusty gloominess of his former wife's home threated to pull him down into a depression. He could sense her everywhere. She felt closer than ever before, as though the anger that was Darth Vader had pushed her away on his few, precious visits. Before, he was angry she was gone. Angry at himself for killing her. Angry at the Jedi for keeping them apart with their rules.

Now he remembered. Her face, her laugh, her smile. Her strength and wisdom, her determination to somehow save them all. The doors to the bedroom creaked open slowly. Their sensors still worked but the mechanism was dry and out of practice. Stale air rolled over him as he stepped through. For a moment he saw her, lying quietly against the pillow, having waiting for him to arrive from the Jedi Temple so long that she'd fallen asleep. "Padme," he whispered, knowing it was just his mind desperately wishing her into existence.

Willing his eyes away from the empty sheets, he moved into the closet. Having made absolutely clear that nothing would be removed, especially her personal effects, Aanakin knew exactly where everything garment hung, every piece of jewelry lay, what every drawer held. Gently he fingered the soft materials, remembering every moment they experienced while she'd worn them. She kept everything. The light yellow frock from their picnic trip on Naboo so many years ago, the blue nightgown she so loved after getting pregnant, the incredible black leather she'd worn during their hiding- the one that nearly drove him so mad he'd foolishly declared his love to her in that moment.

Almost with a jolt, Aanakin came out of his reverie with the awareness of what exactly he was doing. He looked out into the bedroom, seeing it as it was; an empty, dust covered shrine to an incredible but very dead woman that he himself had killed. Regardless of who she was or what she did, it clearly meant nothing now. It was just dead, empty space.

Feeling claustrophobic, he raced out into the living area and when that didn't still his heart, he continued onto the balcony. He stood on the steps at the very edge of the apartment and focused on breathing. He began to draw on the force for calm, then stopped and looked around self-consciously. The Jedi were extinct except for his son. If anyone with force abilities felt him draw on it with control and precision it could endanger them. Focusing again on his breaths, he tried to push out the slightly panicked thoughts and feelings trying so hard to crowd in on him. Padme Amidala was dead. She was gone. He- the clone's- entire purpose for existing was now for naught.

He sat and dropped his head in his hands, willing it away. What could he do? Where would he go? Where could he go? Surely wherever in the universe he went, someone would recognize him for who he is, who he was, and how they knew him as a monster. The universe had to be in flux. The Emperor was dead. Vader was dead. The Rebellion must be gaining strength.

Luke.

Leia.

What would they think? What would they say? Could he even approach them? Would they welcome him or condemn him to the fate of their true father? He moaned at the idea of facing their wraith and pain, their anger and hatred towards the evil he'd become. Surely there was a way. Surely, at some point in time they would come to be more receptive to the idea of a clone of Anakin Skywalker.