Quatre: The Younglings

Skywalker had been abnormally quiet for the last few minutes. Perhaps he was in shock from what Vader had done. At any rate, he was somewhere in a distant corner now, huddling in shock at the way his hands moved, the way his mind manipulated the Force. The young Knight had almost always been in surrender to the Force, letting it guide his hands. He had never actively controlled it except for on rare occasions, and it frightened him. What am I doing?

Vader came back with a snarl: Saving Padme.

Eagerly watching the chrono, he waited as the turbolift hissed to a sudden stop at the highest level of the Temple, just outside the council chambers. Stepping through the doors, cloak streaming out behind him, he stepped into the dark chamber, squinting in the lights of the setting sun, reflected at an inopportune angle by the satellite mirrors that kept the city bright. Flits of movement manifested behind the chairs, and suddenly, Vader winced inwardly, realizing what he was looking at: Jedi younglings.

Anakin suddenly roused himself again, revulsion tinting his thoughts: They're just younglings. How can you do this? What kind of creature have you become?

Vader was distracted; a brave young Padawan had stepped out, fear on his sweet features. "Master Skywalker! There's too many; what are we going to do?" he quavered, trying to sound brave, a child imitating his elders.

You sick creature, Anakin hissed.

It's for Padme.

Let's not hear any more nonsense about 'it's for Padme'. Do you seriously think she would approve of this – for any reason?

You can't live without her, Vader snapped.

But can you live with this young blood on your hands? Anakin demanded.

Silence! Vader roared.

But Anakin pressed the attack. Can you imagine what Padme will say when she hears of this? Do you think she will acquiesce, see this as an act of love? It's an act of savagery. Children, Anakin! Children!

And suddenly, it was as if a black cloud lifted and light – clear blue light – shattered the illusion. Anakin suddenly saw, saw everything. Sidious flattering him, tickling the young Knight's itching ears, spouting about 'saving Padme'. Then, after all those promises, he'd said, "Only my Master ever achieved the ability to sustain life…"

He'd lied. He couldn't save Padme. Sidious had lied! Anakin had been manipulated all along; Sidious had subtly turned him against the Jedi, twisting his thoughts, feeding blasphemy into his ears. Vader knew. He knew now. Yet even now, knowing the truth – he hesitated, teetering on the brink --

And all at once, as his hand seemed to involuntarily reach down to bring up the hilt of his saber, as his thumb activated the blade, the Padawan jumping at the sudden noise, Vader decided.

He knelt.

"Padawan, we will make our stand here."

Vader and Skywalker had become one. The solid confidence and warm compassion of Anakin Skywalker now melded with the glowing incandescent supernova that was Darth Vader's anger.

Sith – Jedi. I am Darth Vader. But I am also Anakin Skywalker.

The Padawan nodded grimly, and now the others came out, nervously picking their way across the tiled floor. One young girl suddenly burst into tears. "What will they do to us?"

Anakin slid across the floor and put an arm around the little seven-year old, wondering, My child… will I ever see her when she is this age? Then, wondering exactly what to say, because now all the Padawans were looking to him for protection and guidance: "I don't know. But I do know that we will do the best we can to keep them away from this place."

Then, standing, he felt the old confidence flowing through him again, making a molten volcanic river in his heart that ran through his arms and his legs, fed by the Force, preparing him for what was to come.

Grinning that old smirk of his, he turned to the children and said, "Children, we will barricade the doors with the seats here, and lock the doors as best we can. I want all of you to be ready to do just as Master Yoda taught you, but not until you must. I will stand before the door and protect you."

The Padawan who had first stepped forward spoke again: "But Master, we are not allowed to turn up the power of our blades unless an older Jedi gives permission."

Anakin nodded grimly. "I am giving permission."

Soon, this work was done. Small blades were held in the younglings' hands, blades humming now with higher intensity. Anakin made a few quick motions with the Force, moving the chairs into place, blocking the doors. He did not yet want to destroy the door controls before he had to.

Then, he reached out into the Force again, now gripping it in his iron hand, manipulating, refusing to surrender to its will. He would survive this day, live to see his wife, his children. To see Obi-Wan and… try to atone for his actions. From afar, he sensed the oncoming clone troopers, implacable, remorseless. They would be surprised to see Vader standing against them, but soon that would wear off, and Anakin would have to do his utmost. And after that… he would live. Or die.