A/N: Hey, everyone. Thanks for the feedback on the last installment. I'm definitely going to try some more connected drabbles in the future. In the mean time, here are a few angsty little drabbles. Hope you enjoy them!

Thanks again,

TSW

XXXVI. Broken

He's always been happiest when he's fixing things. It clears his mind, finding the problem and then patching, tuning, tinkering until it works again. He digs through the pile of junk, looking for something, anything, to take his mind of the screams.

Metal to metal. Wire to wire.

They were defenseless.

A screw loose here. His fingers tighten it deftly.

They had no chance to fight back.

Maybe if he puts this here, replaces these parts.

But he killed them anyways. Every single one.

He places his finished work on the table, presses the button.

The light doesn't turn on.

XXXVII. Fixed

The droid rolls back. "There you go, sir." He flexes his palm experimentally. The fingers move just as they always have. As if the fight had never happened.

But it did, and he's beginning to come to terms with the truth. Fate dealt him a blow from behind, and though it will scar, the wound will heal. For some reason, things seem clearer now. He understands himself finally, and he no longer feels like a little kid playing with a toy sword.

He has things to do, now. A rebellion to lead. A friend to save. A destiny to face.

XXXVIII. Light

The sun hasn't risen yet, and everything is colorless. In a few minutes, the twin suns will rise, and the desert will burn in their red light. The sand will turn to gold, the canyon walls to flaming copper. The day will arrive.

But right now, the landscape is a palate of unshaded silver. Not dark, not light. Just waiting.

She waits with it, standing at the window. She wear the mask pulled up on top of her head, baring her face. It's as flat as the scenery.

A glow appears on the horizon. In a blaze, the day begins.

XXXIX. Dark

This is not the man she loves. The shadows on his face are not cast by the lava spraying around him. They come from within and shroud his features like a pall.

He speaks, and for a moment the familiar voice soothes her. But the ideas pouring off his tongue are alien. His pride, his impatience, all the faults he struggled to hide are amplified.

Suddenly, his hands are on her. Their gentleness is forgotten with the rest of him. His anger frightens her. Desperately she searches his eyes for a sign of her Anakin.

All she sees is darkness.

XL. Shattered

All he had to do was press a button, and her whole world was shattered. The reality of it is so huge, so unbelievably cataclysmic, it takes a few hours to sink in.

She's sitting in her temporary quarters on her rescuer's ship, staring out the window at the dust drifting by. It shimmers in the starlight like shards of glass. With a whimper, she realizes that's exactly what they are.

The truth comes crashing down, and she wants desperately to just go home. But home floats by in a million sharp-edged pieces.

She asks the pilot to fly faster.