19 years after the death of Darth Sidious.

It was their marriage anniversary; the Emperor-the Widower-was in the Mausoleums of Theed, kneeling in front of her sarcophagus, paying respects to the former queen.

As always, he'd asked to mourn alone. The mausoleum of his wife was oxygenated, so he may look upon her stationary sarcophagus, look upon his failings with his own eyes.

Every standard year he did these thrice- once on her lifeday, once on their anniversary, and once on the day when she passed away. It hurt- it always did, that raw grief and overwhelming sadness; that loss, as if a significant chunk of him had been torn away, leaving behind a gaping wound, bleeding endlessly.

Sensing himself to be solitary, he slowly took off his mask, dimly hearing the pressurized oxygen scatter with a hiss. He could not see now- without his mask and the visors that helped his eyes focus, he was virtually blind, for his vision was ruined by the burning on Mustafar.

The fire had done permanent damage to his original tissue, but he didn't bother to find replacements anymore. For all the sins he had done, he did not deserve a better quality of life- not any more than the modified suit that was now his inscrutable, deceptive shell, hiding away the useless, crippled imbecile that he was, up in display for the public to see and believe as their benign, benevolent and invincible Emperor.

(Plus, the scars and aches were a constant reminder of the past- one that gave him tremendous pain, yes, but also one that he believed would set him on the path for trying to reprimand his actions with good deeds, even if it would never be enough.)

Gasping for air, he shifted himself forward a little, leaning towards the stone face that was sculpted on the lid of the sarcophagus. Reluctantly, his useless, aching old eyes began to focus on the carving, and the memories assaulted him once more.

In the Naboo meadow, riding the shaak, rolling in the grass—

Midnight kisses, her beautiful form in the dark Coruscanti sky—

"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."

"So, love has blinded you?"

He'd chuckled and blushed, explained in embarrassment that she had mistaken the true meaning of his words.

"But it's probably true," she had replied with a cheeky grin.

And ultimately, love did blind him. It was the reason he had so obediently listened to Palpatine's carefully orchestrated lies and plunged into his corruption, it was the reason he fell—

But he would never blame her. She was-is-an angel, more ethereal than those from the moons of Iego, purer and more virtuous than any saint.

The kiss in the Geonosian arena that would torment him until his last days… The soft caress on her back when they stood upon the Varykino veranda...

Her discussing the gender of the fetus in her round, bulging belly, knowing, just knowing with her "motherly intuition" that it would be a boy—

"With a kick that hard? Definitely a girl." He'd replied, so sure of himself. Now, he would never know. But the unsullied babe that plagued his dreams-(oh, he wanted to hold the child, his little cherub, for all of eternity, yet every second that he dared lay his unworthy eyes upon that beacon of light, the air would leave his lungs and his heart would ache as the memories of his past transgressions lit up vividly in his mind)-was a boy.

A boy with gorgeous blonde curls and glistening, naive blue eyes, who would often grace a smile upon chubby, lovely cheeks. A little angel that he would never embrace in his arms, never be able to see.

She was right. She had always been right.

Her brilliant hair, her sparkling eyes, her intelligence and bravery and dauntlessness-

Her love, her compassion for all who suffered-

"You're a good person! Don't do this!" She had begged of him that day, tears gleaming bright in her eyes.

He had trusted Sidious, treated him as if he were a friend, a close friend, the closest friend...

"Have you heard the tragedy of Darth Plageus the Wise?" The words echo in his mind, forever reminding him of his ignorant notion, that his judgements could never be wrong.

All this was his doing. His foolishness, his naivety, his blinded belief that Palpatine would be the one to save his wife... Padme should be alive, not him.

A trembling finger slowly traced the beauteous yet impassive face of stone, caressing the cheeks, lingering gently at her forehead.

"Padme... my... love..."

A small smile blossomed on his ruined, grotesque and pale face; it was the first time he had smiled, in a while. The eyes misted, but he chided himself not to cry just yet...

He... he shouldn't have allowed himself to croak out such words. She wouldn't want to hear his grating, ugly, barely audible voice, right? And she was not his- he did not deserve her, he never did...

And then, burying his atrocious face in those large, mechanical hands as tears finally escaped his burning eyes, he collapsed onto the ground, letting out choked sobs and desperately wheezing for air-

"Let her go, Anakin!"

"NO, ANAKIN-"

"Stop, stop now, come back!"

"Anakin, you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow!"

"I love you."

"I'm not afraid to die. I've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life."

"If you are suffering as much as I am, please, tell me."

"The thought of not being with you... I can't breathe."

In the Imperial Senate, a talented and promising politician by the name of Leia Organa pushes forward a new law furthering the rights of former slaves. Though only at age 19, she had already garnered the attention of Emperor Vader, granting her immense influence and backing in the line of politics.

For unknown reasons that the public was quick to rumor about, the Emperor treated young Organa as if she were his own child, inviting her to his secluded castle and returning her safely, congratulating her every time a new bill that she advocated for had passed, even offering to teach her arts of the lightsaber, though she had promptly rejected.

Did the Emperor find a romantic interest in the young senator? Was the senator a creation of the Emperor and an unknown lover?

(The young senator reminded Vader of his wife. That was the only reason why.)

Meanwhile, on the Outer Rim desert world of Tatooine, a blonde-haired, bright-eyed boy gazes at the falling twin suns and into the pink-orange night, dreaming of walking the sky, longing to find his father among the stars.

Unbeknownst to him, when a stranded stormtrooper trod the way to the Lars Homestead in a few days, his destiny was about to be changed forever.

Embarking on an epic journey that will eventually lead him to the Imperial capital world of Coruscant, a new hope arises-

This time, for his family.