Ahsoka had to admit it to herself; she enjoyed carrying out vengeance against someone who had managed to hit her in a most personal way. The sound of Barriss' neck snapping had been one of the most satisfying sounds she'd ever heard, but there was a small part of her that questioned why she would find such delight in killing someone. Yes, Barriss had stabbed her in the back, abandoned her, and tried to make her escape without consequence, but Ahsoka had never thought of herself as a cruel person. There had been times she'd been forced to take a life, even as a Jedi, but they were never done out of cruelty. Had she fallen so far, so quickly, as to relish the idea of inflicting pain, and even murder? Had this been how Anakin had fallen?

Her thoughts went back to the monolithic Sith Lord that stood outside of the catacombs she was traversing. It was true, Darth Vader was not Anakin Skywalker, not as she had known him, but the experiences, the knowledge, that Anakin had possessed were very much a part of Vader. He'd clearly changed physically. She had no idea what he looked like under the armor and the mask, but if his tale of what had occurred on Mustafar held any truth, it was probably horrific.

Vader told her that he'd been attacked and maimed by Obi-wan Kenobi, and left for dead. Ahsoka couldn't help but see the parallels to her own tumultuous life. Perhaps Vader knew this as well. Maybe that was the very reason he'd reached out to her in the first place; he knew she could relate to his experiences. Ahsoka, in that moment of clarity, felt something for Darth Vader she'd never thought she could feel: sorrow.

Everything about the situation seemed crystal clear to her in that moment. Vader, simply trying to be honest with himself about who he was, was attacked and betrayed by one of his closest friends over ideology. All of her fears and doubts about the Jedi seemed completely confirmed, and she realized that she'd made the right choice. For some, Darth Vader was to be feared, and rightly so. For Ahsoka Tano, though, Darth Vader was to be respected. She had committed to his service, and felt even stronger for having done so.

Soon, the galaxy would know that Ahsoka Tano was to be feared and respected as well.

Ahsoka thought back to poor, timid Enuma, waiting for her back at the ship. That was the whole purpose, wasn't it? Protecting people like Enuma from those who would harm them was the whole idea, the whole rationale for accepting Vader's offer. Ahsoka felt confident, supremely confident, that no one would ever harm Enuma again. If that were the case, and Enuma could live a long, happy, and safe life, then Ahsoka knew it would have all have been worth it. Ahsoka found herself feeling very protective of the young, abused Twi'lek, and felt good knowing she'd have the strength to defend the poor girl.

"Are you certain about that, Snips?"

Ahsoka nearly jumped at the sound of the familiar voice. It was a voice she'd thought she would never hear again; that of Anakin Skywalker. Instead of clad in the brown Jedi robes she'd grown accustomed to, Anakin was clad in black. His hair was longer than she remembered, and looked matted down with sweat. He looked haggard, as if he'd been under great strain. A look of profound sadness pulled his features downward, and the scar she'd always known him to have looked strangely like a fresh wound.

"I thought I was protecting someone too, you know. I had so many secrets, Snips…so many that you likely never knew me. Not the real me, anyway." Anakin didn't move, but his eyes were constantly looking around the room, as if expecting an attack. Ahsoka could see that the glove he characteristically wore over his cybernetic hand was damaged, showing moving parts of metal that glinted in the dim light. She couldn't help but feel guilt at how defeated he looked. Was this because of her?

"When you left, I had no one I could confide in. I had so much I was carrying, so many secrets, Snips…there was literally no one I could turn to. No one, that is, until Chancellor Palpatine started taking an interest in me. I knew something was wrong, something fundamentally wrong, with him when he would mention old Sith legends, stories no layman would, or could, even know. It didn't matter to me. He told me that he could help me. Help me learn how to defeat even death."

Anakin slowly moved down to one knee, his eyes never leaving Ahsoka's. "I had a wife. No one knew about the marriage, especially not the Jedi. You know full well that sort of thing was forbidden, but you also know how I react to things being forbidden. I loved her, Ahsoka, with every fiber of my being. Then, she…she was pregnant. I was so happy, Snips…I was going to be a father! But the Jedi…the Jedi would have taken even that joy away from me. I was expected to live a joyless, loveless, passionless life, the same thing they expected of you."

Anakin's stare broke away from Ahsoka. His head tilted downwards and his eyes closed. "But it was hypocrisy. It was an illusion. Lies, from the first day." He reached down and scooped up a handful of the dust and earth from the floor of the dank stone corridor with his damaged right hand. "One night, the Force granted me a vision of what might come to pass, Snips. It showed me the vision of my wife dying in great agony, and me helpless to prevent it. It disturbed me so greatly that I went to Master Yoda to discuss it. Of course, the little frog told me to put it out of my mind, that such tumult would do nothing but destroy me. Of course, he would say such things! Maybe he could live without attachment, without emotion, but I couldn't! I had to do…something, anything! I had to save Padme's life! What else could I have done? She was a part of me, Snips! She was my heart…"

His skeletal metal fingers shifted, letting the fine dust fall from his grip, to the ground from which it came. "…and the Jedi stole her from me. They turned her against me. Used her as bait to lure me into their trap, and then…"

Anakin was gone. In his place, the shine of black metal and plastic replaced the brown robes. The sound of an angry voice was replaced by the mechanical hiss of a respirator. "…then they created THIS." Darth Vader stood, ramrod-straight, with a far more fluid motion than Ahsoka had thought him capable of. "But the Jedi were not the only culprits here. YOU murdered Anakin Skywalker as surely as Obi-wan did. You abandoned him in a time of dire need, and engineered his fall as deviously as any Jedi. YOU created this, Ahsoka."

"Like hell I did!" Ahsoka spat back at Vader. "YOU made your choices, and YOU never really thought the consequences out, did you? You acted rashly, STUPIDLY, if that's really what you did, and you got LITERALLY burned by it! THAT IS NOT MY FAULT!" Ahsoka balled her fists up, though she knew actually striking Vader would gain her very little. "I…I loved you, you know. I knew you could never be mine. Your heart always belonged to her," Ahsoka's voice seemed to spit that last word out as if in disdain, "even if I didn't know who she was. I never really put the two of you together, but I guess that was the point." Her arms slumped down, her hands dangling at her sides, and she looked every bit as defeated as Anakin had looked a few moments prior. "Leaving the Jedi wasn't hard, not at all, but leaving YOU…leaving Anakin…broke my heart more than I can ever say. But that's how I've always been. I walked away from Lux before anything could happen, and I walked away from Anakin before he could reject me. I couldn't stay with the Jedi, but I'd have given anything for him to have come with me."

"You should have told me, Ahsoka." Her eyes, filling with tears, looked up to see Anakin's face, far more like she remembered him, in his full vigor, looking at her with love. Yes, I loved Padme, but had you spoken up, Snips…that may never have happened. All that came after might not have happened. The EMPIRE itself might not have happened. Do you understand, Ahsoka? Denying yourself what is most precious to you might seem noble in stories, but in real life, we must hold tight to that which we love. We must not be afraid to love, and to be loved. Love is as much a passion as anything else, isn't it?"

Ahsoka, her heart breaking into a thousand shards of glass, didn't hold back the tears as she fell into Anakin's arms. She clung tightly to him, burying her head in his chest, and trying not to let her montrals poke Anakin in the eyes. He held her tenderly, his flesh-and-blood hand idly stroking one of her lekku. She shivered, but relished the moment. She knew, in her heart, that none of this was real, but she would also never have the opportunity to know how it would have felt again. She was resolved to throw herself into this, into him, before the illusion was dispelled.

Ahsoka raised her head to meet his gaze, and trembled. Never in her life had she been so close to him. It all felt so real, so gloriously real to her in that moment. The light scent of old smoke seemed to be infused into his clothing, though she couldn't say what had been burning. His eyes shone in the darkness of the ancient corridor as if lit from within. She tried to speak, but no words would come. Her heart swelled beyond the confines of her slender body as she leaned closer, with the intent of giving herself to him, and only him, forever.

Her lips met his, and she surrendered herself to his embrace. They kissed with passion, with fervor, and her hands clawed into his back as she found herself drowning in a sea of unrealized ecstasy. She had dreamed of this moment for the entire time she'd studied under him, and she was not willing to stop what would follow, what must follow. She wanted him, and he was open to her. His hands ran along the length of her lekku, causing her wave after wave of unbelievable bliss. Sensations she'd never known, even when she'd experimented with interesting means of autoeroticism through use of the Force, threatened to sweep her away into the twilight abyss of the Dark Side of the Force, and she did not care in the least. She wanted to be taken away with him.

She narrowed her eyes, and his black tunic tore away from his body, exposing a well-muscled and scarred torso. Her hands ran over his abdominal muscles, savoring every inch of touch. Anakin smiled, and Ahsoka could see that look he'd so often had, that cocky look when he was about to do something against the rules. She closed her eyes, putting all her faith and trust in him. He nodded his head slightly, and her clothing tore away from her, leaving her unbound in his sight. She wasn't ashamed of her nudity; in fact, she felt more free in that moment than in all the years she'd lived before this.

He laid her down on the cold floor of the corridor, but she didn't pay the discomfort any mind. Her focus was completely on him, and everything else in existence seemed to fade away. Her hands never left him, and her lips never parted from his.

Their union was everything Ahsoka had ever dreamed it could be, and so much more. They felt the power of the Force flow through them as their bodies intertwined, and there was no discerning Ahsoka from Anakin; they were one. Such ecstasy was denied to her as a Jedi, but now…now there was no denying her anything ever again. Her back arched hard as she felt the sensation coming to a climax, her head thrown back and nearly smashed into the unforgiving stone.

And then he was gone.

Ahsoka lay there, alone, exposed. It didn't matter to her, because she knew; to get what you want, there is always a price, and everyone always pays. Anakin had been inside her, and she'd known it to be as real as any other sensation. She could carry this moment with her always, and remember what it was to be loved, to surrender yourself to passion. She would have loved for it to have gone on forever…

Then it hit her. Maybe it could.

Anakin, at least the phantasmal Anakin, had told her that an old Sith Lord had found the means to conquer death. Perhaps if she could find this forbidden, dark knowledge, she could restore Anakin to his former health and strength. She gathered her clothing swiftly, slipping everything back on as well as she could, with some being damaged and torn. She knew what she had to do now; she would save him, and then he would be hers.

Her clothing torn, her smooth orange skin covered in dust, and her montrals and lekku equally filthy, but Ahsoka's dignity and pride were fully intact. Suddenly, the whole idea of her training under Darth Vader made perfect sense. She could be there with him, help heal his mind and his heart, while she sought the dark wisdom to heal his body. Then, when he was finally whole again, she would be with him, and together, no one could stand in their way. It would mean sacrifices, of course, because everything has a cost, but in the end, she would have the one she loved, and she would be free to love him, and to be loved by him.

They would rule the galaxy together. Suddenly, the prospect didn't seem so ludicrous.

Her hips ached as she trudged wearily down the stone corridor. She grinned at the thought, for something had opened her legs wide just then. Perhaps it really did happen after all, she thought to herself with a small degree of devilish glee. She found her gait to improve quickly, and within seconds she was moving at her normally quick pace. She moved with purpose and intent; she needed to get back to Vader soon. Whatever lay in store for her, Darth Vader was the key to it all. He possessed the knowledge, and the power she needed, and his affinity with the Dark Side would take her places she could not have gone before. She knew, in her heart, that this was the right choice. She felt her heart leap at the thought of being at his side, but she forced that feeling down, hidden deep. Vader didn't know how she'd felt about him, and she had to keep it that way. Though she recognized her need of Vader, she still did not fully trust him. She had to maintain a healthy distance between herself and the Sith Lord if her plans were to come to fruition. She had to have her own secrets.