Hello there.

For clarification, I am going to be flat out honest. Only thing Canon from Disney and in essence from Filoni in this is The Clone Wars (unfortunately going to have to let the EU Clone Wars go), Rebels, Bad Batch, and Mandalorian (season 1 and 2). This is because of the things I disapprove of with the Sequel Trilogy but I'm not going to beat a dead horse. Kenobi, Book of Boba Fett, Tales of the Jedi, and Mandalorian season 3 would not be referenced in this fic because the first show causes issues with the actual OT with Leia and him, Book of Boba Fett is just bad writing and undoes the season 2 ending from Mandalorian, Tales of the Jedi I didn't like because I am getting tired of the attention hogging Ahsoka gets - she's just another Padawan no need for a special past, and Mandalorian season 3 was awful; this is just my personal opinion. Post-ROTJ would be EU so there would be references to the threats afterwards such as the Vong.

I'm trying to be as unbiased as possible. In the past, I did take out anger about the Disney Canon aspects but I will not do that in this fic. This is my fic and I'm going to put in what I'm pleased with and not include other things that disappointed me. The Jedi Apprentice series is Canon in this timeline, and albeit Jedi Quest and its characters would appear, it would have several adjustments. The Last of the Jedi books would also be known as Canon in this too. Gotta headcanon many things I like from both continuities and be fair. Aside from what's going on in this era, the High Republic Era from Disney Canon and the Old Republic Era from the EU shall remain relatively unchanged (even though I dislike what happened to Revan and the Exile tbh) due to the fact that they don't contradict one another and would only be referenced in passing. The books about Darth Bane also is unchanged. What is altered however is the Denningsverse with those creepy sexual situations that Dennings love to pride himself for. Abeloth still exists, just basing her similarly not entirely the exact same as Dennings did the character.

There would be several changes to characters fates. This is obviously an AU and a time travel one. The concept of time traveling, I want to ensure has obvious impacts. This is a parallel universe so there would be some differences, some very minor, some very major...

Some aspects of this fic (and possible trilogy) is inspired by a mixture of Krayt's Oath by SnowflakesandMozart, Reprise by Elfpen, and A Wound in Time by WavesBlade...

Chapter 1

Smoke was everywhere, substantial rumblings came from all directions at once, and people were running and shouting. Electrical fires, steam explosions, cabin depressurizations, disruption of chain-of-command. Add to this, the continued bombardments by Rebel cruisers — smelling fear in the enemy — merely heightened the sense of hysteria that is already pervasive.

For the Emperor was dead. The central, powerful evil that had been the cohesive force to the Empire was gone; and when the Dark Side was this diffused, this nondirected — this was simply where it led.

Confusion.

Desperation.

Damp fear.

Amid this uproar, Luke managed to make it, somehow, to the main docking bay — where he was trying to carry the hulking deadweight of his father's weakening body toward an Imperial shuttle. Halfway there, his strength finally gave out, though; and he collapsed under the strain.

Slowly he rose again. Like an automaton, he hoisted his father's body over his shoulder and stumbled toward one of the last remaining shuttles.

Luke rested his father on the ground, trying to collect strength one last time, as explosions grew louder all around them. Sparks hissed in the rafters; one of the walls buckled, and smoke poured through a gaping fissure. The floor trembled.

Vader motioned Luke closer to him. "Luke, help me take this mask off."

Luke shook his head. "But you'll die."

The former Dark Lord's voice was weary. "Nothing can stop that now. Just once let me face you without it. Let me look upon you with my own eyes."

Luke was afraid. Afraid to see his father as he really was. Afraid to see what person could have become so dark—the same person who had fathered Luke, and his sister. Afraid to know the Anakin Skywalker who lived inside Darth Vader.

Vader, too, was afraid — to let his son see him, to remove this armored mask that had been between them so long. The black, armored mask that had been his only means of existing for over twenty years. It had been his voice, his breath, and his invisibility — his shield against all human contact. But now he would remove it; for he would see his son before he died.

Together, they lifted the heavy helmet from Vader's head — inside the mask portion, a complicated breathing apparatus had to be disentangled, and a speaking modulator and view-screen detach from the power unit in the back. But when the mask was finally taken off and set aside, Luke gazed at his father's face.

It was the sad, benign face of someone who is supposed to be middle-aged yet disfigured and old. Bald, beardless, with a mighty scar running from the top of his head to the back of the scalp, he had unfocused, deep-set, dark blue eyes, and his skin was pasty white, for it has not seen the sun in two decades. The old man smiled weakly; tears glazed his eyes, now.

It was a face full of meanings, that Luke would forever recall. Regret, he saw most plainly. And shame. Memories could be seen flashing across it… memories of rich times. And horrors. And love, too.

It was a face that hadn't touched the world in a lifetime. In Luke's lifetime. He saw the wizened nostrils twitch, as they tested a first, tentative smell. He saw the head tilt imperceptibly to listen—for the first time without electronic auditory amplification. Luke felt a pang of remorse that the only sounds now to be heard were those of explosions, the only smells, the pungent sting of electrical fires. Still, it was a touch. Palpable, unfiltered.

He saw the old eyes focus on him. Tears burned Luke's cheeks and fell on his father's lips. His father smiled at the taste.

It was a face that had not saw itself in twenty years.

Vader saw his son crying and knew it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beholden.

It intensified, momentarily, Vader's sense of anguish — about his crimes, now, he added guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brought him to the mind of the way he used to look — striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he'd looked once.

And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend... and how that friendship had turned out. Turned, he knew not how — but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until... hold. These were memories he wanted none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back… no.

This boy had pulled him from that pit — here, now, with this act. This boy was good.

The boy was good, and the boy came from him - so there must had been good in him, too. He smiled up again at his son, and for the first time, loved him. And for the first time in many long years, loved himself again, as well.

Suddenly he smelled something — flared his nostrils, sniffed once more. Wildflowers, that was what it was. Just blooming; it must be spring.

And there was thunder — he cocked his head, strained his ears. Yes, spring thunder, for spring rain. To flowers bloom.

Yes, there… he felt a raindrop on his lips. He licked the delicate droplet… but wait, it wasn't sweet water, it was salty, it was… a teardrop.

He focused on Luke once again and saw his son crying. Yes, that was it, he was tasting his boy's grief — because he looked so horrible; because he was so horrible.

But he wanted to make it all right for Luke, he wanted Luke to know he wasn't really ugly like this, not deep inside, not altogether. With a little self-deprecatory smile, he shook his head at Luke, explaining away the unsightly beast his son sees.

Luke shook his head, too — to tell his father it was all right, to dismiss the old man's shame, to tell him nothing mattered now. And everything — but he couldn't talk.

Vader spoke again, even weaker — almost inaudible. "Now go, my son. Leave me."

At that, Luke found his voice. "No. You're coming with me. I will not leave you here. I've got to save you."

"You already have, Luke," he whispered. He wished, briefly, he could meet Yoda, to thank the old Jedi for the training he'd given Luke…but perhaps he would be with Yoda soon, now, in the ethereal oneness of the Force. And with Obi-Wan. "You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right."

"Father, I won't leave you," Luke protested. Explosions jarred the docking bay in earnest, crumbling one entire wall and splitting the ceiling. A jet of blue flame shot from a gas nozzle nearby. Just beneath it, the floor began to melt.

Vader blinked, feeling his body weakening, Luke's beautiful face painted in his mind. "Luke, you were right… and you were right about me… tell your sister… you were right."

Luke would live. Leia would too. So will the rest of their Rebel friends. The Empire will fall. Vader had little remorse in the eventual hell that is about to consume him. He heard a murmur in the Force, a flash of light blinding him in an instant as he fell into darkness. Not the one that he was expecting, but rather one serene and... almost peaceful.


Opening his eyes, Vader was surprised by the hot sun burning into his skin. He reached up his arm and covered his blurry vision. That is when the man realized it. His arm was a prosthetic, like the one he had possessed at the end of the Clone Wars.

Vader breathed... he was surprised by that being able to do that again, ever since his burns on Mustafar due to his battle with his former Master, his damaged lungs had never been able to breathe properly, and he had allowed the injuries to flourish for so long that the likelihood of breathing.

He stared around himself and instantly recognized this planet as Tatooine. For two decades, Darth Vader was inclined to ignore this planet, his mother's death driving home his hatred.

He even briefly pondered destroying the planet with the Death Star but had opted not to because Shmi Skywalker was buried here because his love from his mother was something that could never be stripped from him just like his love for Padmé.

Looking down, Vader realized with a start his limbs had been restored, and he rubbed his hand into the top of his head, shocked when he felt actual hair instead of the black helmet of doom that spelled him.

Perhaps this afterlife was just the hell that is to come for Anakin after all of his crimes.

That is what he had thought before he noticed it. On his hips, two lightsabers rest soundlessly. The one that belonged to Anakin Skywalker after he had lost his arm to Dooku. The one that belonged to Skywalker when he was a General of the Republic. The one that he used after his turn to the Dark Side to murder his fellow Jedi and the Separatists Leadership on Mustafar.

And then there was the other one. The one that Vader had used for years since he had crafted synthetically in the shadow of the Death Star 1.

But why did the Force allow him to keep his lightsabers if this is some sort of afterlife? Why did the Force send him here to all places? Korriban would have been one way to punish Vader for his crimes.

At that moment, Vader felt a Force signature, one that he hadn't felt since...

Vader began walking down to the presence, refusing to just stand around. He had to know if it was the person who he had thought it was. For a moment, Vader felt horror as he began walking faster, sensing that the signature was in some sort of pain. He took a moment to inspect the city of Mos Espa, noting the sight of dark figures of all types.

Fortunately, no one turned to look in his direction, for his appearance wasn't that eye-catching. Vader felt that old pang that came with being on this planet as a child. At the time, the boy believed that saving all slaves would be a possibility. Now, with the older and wiser mentality that Vader offered him, he had now realized that doing so would only cost the slaves their lives.

And anyhow, if this were the Force manipulating his mind and this was just his hellhole, Vader couldn't change a thing.

Continuing his stride in the direction of the signature, Vader made sure to keep his senses up instinctively. His time as Sidious's servant taught him that betrayal could be paramount, and even now he still had that feeling that anyone who he crossed could turn on him.

Vader made his way to the residence that once belonged to Shmi Skywalker and knocked, not to hurt whoever on the other side, but to investigate who was this person feeling like...

When the door opened, Vader had to resist the feeling of his knees buckling, his body stiffening up for the first time in a long time. Seeing and sensing were two different things, and unlike in the Tusken village, she was so alive, so vibrant, so... beautiful.

He wanted nothing more but to engulf her in his arms, yet something prevented him from doing so. Reaching out into the Force, Vader felt signatures of all types in the galaxy, presences that long since blinked out now active yet again, as if they had never faded. He felt darkness as well but not as dominant as it was before the era of the Empire.

Whatever this strange reality was, Vader would rather stay in it, even with the boy...

Wait. Boy?

Indeed, briefly reaching out, Vader sensed his own signature, not yet tainted by the cost of war and darkness, ever malnourished and small, yet still more powerful than ever. The Force was shielding him as always.

"Your son... I have felt him in the Force." Part of him twisted in disgust at himself for lying to the woman that resembled his mother. "Might I know what his name is?"

"Anakin Skywalker. I gave birth to him two years ago." Shmi smiled down at her son briefly before pulling him closer as if hiding him away.

Vader's eyes go wide. That would make him two then, a toddler who hadn't yet been touched by slavery and the emotionless life of a Jedi.

"May I know who are you?" Shmi asked, a hint of apprehension in his tone but protective over her son.

He considered telling her the truth but not now, not under these circumstances. After all, the likelihood of him just landing on her front door and claiming to be her son from the future would be overwhelming for anyone to believe.

"Vader," he responded. "I do feel sadden for intruding in such a manner, but I need a place to lay low."

"No, it's alright," Shmi replied, eyeing him up and down, not noticing the lightsabers clipped to his belt. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I have never seen you before. Are you a traveler?"

Vader nodded. "Yes, and beyond that, I'm going to be frank: I possess the powers of the Jedi." To show proof of this, Vader pulled his cloak back and revealed the two lightsabers resting on his belt.

The woman's eyes go wide. "We are own by Gardulla the Hutt. They would not be happy with your presence."

"The Hutts are beneath me," Vader replied coldly, tightening his hand up into a fist as while he could forgive perhaps many things, he couldn't forgive those who bring suffering to his mother which drew the pathway to her death. "For now, I would act in secret, but trust and believe that you would see a free Tatooine soon. Your son would not grow up in an environment of pain."

Shmi didn't seem to believe him, but she invited him inside and Vader followed. For now, he shall savor the moment with his mother and younger self.

The Force had sent him here for a reason...

One act of redemption was not enough, Vader realized. He had committed countless atrocities and he would be hunted by them for the rest of his days, but he would make things right this time around and do better.

No matter the challenges along the way, Vader shall atone for his sins, and ensure that his younger self would not suffer as he had.

Arthur's note: I have not ran into a single time travel fanfic with the concept of Vaderkin raising Anakin that is appeasing aside from one and that one was too dark for even my nature and outright Obi-Wan bashing, especially given it's after ROTJ no offense intended to the author.

While he's going to be called Vader to avoid confusion, he is by the mentality of Anakin Skywalker. I am unsure if I'm going to make this into a trilogy or not as I'm thinking about having Anakin remain young in this book. One thing for certain, he will not be raised by the Jedi this time around.

Also, Vaderkin is twenty-three for anyone confused, the age he was in ROTS and this is seven years before The Phantom Menace.

May the Force be with you all always.