Author's notes:

As of the time of writing this it's been a month/30 days since I posted the first chapter. This chapter only has 3 parts but they are a bit longer, the third part is 2663 words making it the longest part I've written as of writing this. Thank you for reading my story.

Act 1 Part 7

Days on Coruscant

"Those who have knowledge, don't predict. Those who predict, don't have knowledge."
Lao Tzu

Vader was heading for his N-1, he had spent the past 3 days training inquisitors, being trained by Palpatine, getting introduced by Palpatine to the Military and Intelligence branch and of course meetings that Palpatine had seen fit for him to attend. He had gained three things from all of this, valuable experience to train his own apprentice, insight into the new state apparatuses that he essentially had partial control over. Lastly, a massive headache…

Palpatine had taught him a very crucial skill, in Vader's own opinion. How to channel the force into energy and by extension escaping the need for sleep, it would certainly take time to develop this skill but he was nonetheless very happy about there being such a force ability. It was another way to escape the horrors in his mind…

Training the inquisitors had proved to be somewhat interesting, many of them had special abilities that could prove useful but to give them more credit than that would be a stretch. The only one that was even remotely competent was the "Grand" inquisitor, although even now Vader felt confident that were he to place a bet on who was stronger between his apprentice and this inquisitor his apprentice would come out on top. Credit where it was due, A'parr was a very skilled individual, her usage of the force was not what it could be but her skill with a lightsaber was undeniable. Vader had managed to test some techniques on the inquisitors, one that he found was very effective was Dun Möch, verbally unbalancing your opponent. He has seen before that A'parr used a similar technique so that would be worth noting down. Vader barely had to try to anger the inquisitors for them to start making mistakes in fact. Vader had still not made a new lightsaber, that fact had unfortunately not spared some of the inquisitors from suffering the loss of a limb or two, since they were rather prone to "losing" them. Their overall performance could be summarised as lacking, yes they could make acceptable attack dogs to track down remaining Jedi but Vader was not going to trust them to do much else.

Vader had accompanied Palpatine to several meetings with the military and the newly made Imperial Security Bureau on top of training the inquisitors and being trained by Palpatine himself. He would've usually hated having to attend such meetings before but there had been a change in him which he had been somewhat ignorant of. Now he was actually interested in the matters being discussed in these meetings, it had seemingly been a surprise to his master as well for he had sensed some confused interest radiating from Palpatine. To Vader it was understandable that Palpatine would be both confused and intrigued by this seemingly sudden change; he'd always had a disdain for bureaucracy which was well known to Palpatine. Palpatine had not questioned him about this sudden and rather radical change but Vader had felt that Palpatine was rather pleased with this development when he had departed for his starfighter. There was something going on in his master's mind, something that Vader would be a part of, but right now Vader only wanted one thing… to get off Coruscant.

When he reached the N-1 he was completely exhausted, Palpatine's technique was still something he was trying to get his head around. He could feel his head throb and ache, he was clearly in no state to fly his starfighter all the way back to Naboo. He did not want to impose on Palpatine, mostly because he did not want to be stuck on Coruscant any longer than he already had. If he were to ask his master for a place to sleep he would most likely have to train the inquisitors more or something else entirely… maybe even have to go to the senate, if Palpatine asked him he would acquiesce, which was the problem.

There was only one place on Coruscant where he could be both alone and undisturbed… Padmé's apartment… he was technically well within his rights to use it as it had been Padmé's personal apartment ever since she bought it from the Naboo Embassy during the last year of the war. He was unsure of the intersection of Coruscant and Naboo inheritance laws and how it functioned, but thinking logically it would technically be… his apartment now… that just felt wrong… utterly and unquestionably wrong.

He had barely been independent for a month and he already owned an estate on Naboo, a penthouse in the Senatorial apartment complex. He did also own another property which he'd arranged with Palpatine before he had departed for Coruscant three days ago, but it was not done and probably wouldn't be for some time. He had realised that his estate on Naboo would not really work well as a military base of operations, it suited his personal needs but it would be suitable to have a proper military base as well. He'd told Palpatine about these concerns over a holo call and he'd suggested building a fortress on Mustafar, it would still serve as a place from which he could draw emotion but it was also away from the major hyperspace routes so it would be relatively well hidden.

Having decided that the penthouse was his only actual option among all of his mental rambling he got into his starfighter… it was not optimal but what could he do? It was a convenient place to own in reality, Palpatine would most likely agree with him as well, a perfect place for his intimidating apprentice to make his nest on the ecumenopolis… right above all the Empire's "respectable" and "honourable" senators… precious few of them could even claim to be one of those things…

Vader had not moved for the past half hour or so, he was still inside his starfighter although unlike him, it had moved from where it had been 30 minutes ago. It and by extension himself were currently located on the penthouse's landing platform, the trip to the penthouse had scarcely taken 2 minutes which was only expected seeing as he probably owned one of the galaxy's fastest starfighters. Yet here he was… still sitting in the pilot's hatch of his own ship on the landing platform of his own luxurious penthouse… The mighty and powerful Darth Vader hiding in a starfighter on his own property, right hand to the most powerful man in the galaxy. Yet here he had sat for almost half an hour at this point unable to go into his penthouse. There was no physical barrier preventing him from entering, he had already turned off the ray shield that encompassed the open space around the landing platform.

This place… he scarcely remembered having any bad memories of it… except for the visions of the future that came to pass… What was going to happen when he set foot inside? Was every sweet memory he had linked with this place going to be turned to sand in his mouth?

Why should you be allowed to have those memories, ones of a better time… one you destroyed yourself… what right have you? All those good memories are of her… the person you killed… the love of your life… your Angel, and let's not forget your own child. This is what you deserve for all you've done, no… it's far better than what you deserve… Why should you be alive when she's not? Why should you get to go on living? Why did you destroy everything you had? You were mere nanomilimeters from grasping the power to save her… and then you killed her with your own hands… you're nothing but a monster…

The voice in his head was his own, he did not deserve to have these happy memories.

Getting out of the N-1 he walked inside…

I killed her, therefore I should not have any of the good she gave me…

The Sweetness of Ash

Our imagination is endless, everything that exists and that which can exist can be found there. Horrors and delights alike.

Vader awoke with a startle… it was morning, the sun had already arisen and its rays of light were finding their way through the penthouse. Something wasn't right… he was lying in bed… he did not remember how he'd gotten here…

Looking down at his hand he was startled by what it looked like… it resembled a human hand yet it was made completely out of polished black metal, only small gaps in it were visible where the joints would be. Grasping the air and grasping it in a trying motion he was utterly confused, it worked so smoothly it was almost scary, it felt the same way as if it was his original hand. He saw a mirror hanging on the wall, getting up out of the bed also felt extremely unnatural. Looking down at his legs that had been hidden by the blanket they looked similar to how his hand looked, the same polished metal with small gaps in the joints… they also felt as if they were his original legs.

This all felt wrong somehow, this was not reality… this must be a dream but… it feels so utterly real either way. He stood up ignoring the unnatural feeling in his entire body, he had just gotten used to having his powerful and bulky prosthetics… this just felt smooth, too smooth… unnaturally natural, that's how he'd describe it. Standing in front of the mirror he studied the man before him… metallic black prosthetics limbs, pale skin, short hair trimmed at the sides which emphasised the breathing mask covering his mouth and nose. Its features were sharp and sleek, it too was made from metal coloured black… contrasted to how he had grown used to his respirator's constant sounds this one was not as loud… this one was, calmer…

The man before him was a stranger, his own body was a marred and destroyed one, abundant with burns and scars. The body before him was… himself, if his prosthesis limbs were natural and his scars and burns were repaired. Vader was certain of one thing, this was his body, just not the one he knew… the one he had gone to sleep in.

Then he heard laughing from the dining room, it was the laugh of two children…

This is just getting more confusing by the minute…

Walking still felt weird but he needed to investigate what was going on, he ignored the doubts and fears scratching at the back of his skull beckoning him to stay. Whatever was going on… he needed to figure it out, no matter what might happen. Walking out of the bedroom he searched for the source of the laughter… the kids. He'd heard them right outside the door but there was no sight of them, staring out into the living room his confusion was once again being given more things to handle. The interior was completely different from how it had been when he had entered the penthouse that night. There were new decorations, all of which looked rather expensive, not that the decoration Padmé had had before… he paused the line of thought going through his mind, he needed to figure out what was going on… not dwell on the past…

Or was it the past?

This all felt so real… maybe everything that had happened… Mustafar… the Temple… maybe it never happened, could it all just have been a lucid nightmare. The hope that touched the icy cold of his heart felt like the golden radiance of a sunrise, he conveniently forgot the fact that he still had the exact injuries that Obi Wan had inflicted upon him. The hope, no matter how small or unlikely that Padmé was alive… that his child… or children were alive triumphed over all logic and reason the entire world could muster up. Why would logic mean anything if she was alive? He would do or believe anything for the mere chance that she was still alive… his Angel…

Walking out into the living room with his unfrozen heart brimming with hope, he had to find her… nothing else mattered to him. The golden rays shining through the windows lit up the room gently, none of the lamps were on making the rays' presence known even more. He had never seen this room like this before, it only reinforced his belief that everything must've been a horrific nightmare. He stumbled slightly when he hit something with his foot, looking down he found a finely made doll laying on the ground beside his foot. It looked like it was from Naboo, it almost resembled the way Padmé had looked when she was queen…

The doll was clad in an exquisitely embroidered purple dress with likewise embroidered hanging sleeves on the arm. It had a large headpiece that shot out around its head like a silvery sun with argent rays almost forcefully centering one's gaze on the doll's face. It really emulated the traditional Naboo wear well, he picked it up from the ground and placed it on the table beside him. Once again he heard the voices of the kids, but they were joined by a third voice, now one clearly older, the voice of an adult. He rushed over to the kitchen door unable to contain the excitement surging throughout all of his limbs, he stopped in the doorway and froze at the sight in front of him.

Two children eating breakfast, happily laughing and talking to each other, they looked to be around 12 or 8 years old. Beside them sat a person clad in all white simply listening to the children prattle on about something. It was a simple outfit that perfectly outlined their figure, that of a woman. Once again his mind simply froze, unable to breath, unable to do anything except just looking at everything before him. Her face was concealed behind a white mask which covered the top of her face obscuring its most notable features. Yet it could not hide the flowing curls of her hair… they looked the same as Padmé's, there was no doubt in his mind about who it was…

…his angel…

He forced his leg to take a step into the kitchen… a decision he would instantly regret when the world turned to ashen dust before his eyes…

He was back in the real world looking into an empty kitchen, bringing up his hand he saw the gauntlet he was used to and not the fine prosthetic he had had a mere moment ago. There were no golden rays of sunlight illuminating the penthouse, only the tinted lenses of his helmet making everything a monotone blood red, a heartbreakingly callous reminder of his actions…

There was no anger… no hatred… he simply dropped to his knees ignoring the spike of pain which it caused and then stared… desperately trying to hold onto the sweet taste of paradise which had now been turned into bitter ash…

The Broken II

"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."

Anton Chekhov

2 months since Mustafar

Sidious was well aware that he could ask virtually anything of Vader and it would be done without question but he still allowed Vader personal time, expertly keeping the facade of the caring and supporting mentor. One which Sidious had not originally intended to keep but it was working rather marvellously in keeping Vader both in line and making him go above and beyond what Sidious had ever expected of him. Vader was blissfully ignorant of the truth as always, he'd been a slave on Tatooine, a slave to the Jedi and now one to Sidious, but to the cyborg sith he was experiencing what he believed to be true freedom… at least in terms of freedom of choice.

Vader had been juggling a great many tasks during this time, not something he was happy about, having to both manage the training of the inquisitors, his apprentice and his new personal clone platoon. Those were only his "personal" projects that he had to deal with, he had also become a central figure within the Imperial Navy and Army plus the ISB. Jedi hunting was among the few tasks which he had appreciated getting thrown into the pot as well, for quite obvious reasons.

He had also spent time in his workshop working on various things, a wider range of helmets mostly, he had learnt one thing from politics at least, appearance was a key factor. He had made several variations of his helmet, some more functional and others that were more for show. All of them shared one key quality, polished black chromium. One helmet he'd based off of the senate guards combed helmets, another was a completely blank mask that gave away nothing, he'd taken inspiration from a previous sith lord, Jadus.

The one he had grown to like the most however was one he had made when thinking of Padmé's outfits during her reign as queen, it was also the largest helmet he'd made so far. He'd been a bit carried away when making it, it had become something of a technician's dream and nightmare at the same time. In its base it was a simple blank head piece like the one he'd made inspired by Jadus's but this one was made of two pieces, the first piece was the base that covered the back of his head and extended into a small neck guard. The second piece was what he affectionately called the "showstopper", it was a blank crescent that curved around his head giving him a bat-like look. It attached as the face of the mask, with two points protruding upwards.

He'd managed to pack a considerable amount of things into it even though it was not very practical in most scenarios. It had both night and thermal vision built into it along with a connection port for interfacing with his starfighter, it also possessed a small inbuilt radar and motion detector within it, so essentially he was a bat, being able to detect almost anything trying to move about around him. He could technically already do that with the force, but if he was hunting Jedi he could forgo using the force to not alert them to his presence. In reality it was just a showpiece if anything, it did not work well with his fighting style and was cumbersome, he was simply justifying the time spent on it.

It did however work as a showpiece, so when he was in the senate with Palpatine or in meetings with Imperial leadership he would use it, it did still have an impact on those around him after all.

But now he was on Naboo, in a wide open field… picking flowers…

Naboo, the Tomb of Padmé Amidala

Jobal had been going to her daughter's tomb every day she was able to find the time, taking small comfort from helping care for it… like she had Padmé…

It was a late visit today, it was nearing midnight when she arrived at the tomb, it reminded her of the first day she'd visited… the night of the funeral… when she had been unable to visit it until everyone was gone.

Well not everyone… the mysterious man… the father of Padmé's child, he had been there. Jobal had spent many nights trying to figure out who he was but was never able to come up with anything reasonable. He was a complete unknown, Jobal had had her suspicions that Padmé had had a love interest or two in the past, but during her time as a senator she had never shown any interest for anyone except for that young Jedi bodyguard she'd been assigned after the attempts on her life.

That boy had been one of the first off of Jobal's list of potential people under that black mask, he felt utterly different from everything she'd felt from the boy, what was his name? Anakin… Anakin Skywalker… yes, that was his name. They felt utterly different from one another, even if she'd only interacted with them both briefly she felt confident in making that statement.

Also… Anakin was very likely dead now alongside the rest of the Jedi, maybe he had escaped but it was unlikely. She had seen him on the news from time to time. He was a hero of the Republic and had led one of the best clone units during the war… which only made his survival all the less likely seeing as the clones had turned on the Jedi…

Walking inside she was a little startled when she saw a tall black figure standing over Padmé's sarcophagus. The shock lasted only for a moment when she remembered who it was… he did not cover his head with a hood this time so one could see the helmet he wore clearly now. The last time she'd only seen the mask, but she could tell that it was a different helmet. It would probably not be possible to hide it under a hood actually, the crescent like shape that rounded itself around his head probably made it hard to use a hood. But one thing had still remained the same, the simple polished chromium and jet-black colouration that he wore.

She hesitated before taking another step… should I leave him be and just wait? Would he like company? These questions only reinforced the truth Jobal already knew, she knew nothing about him except that he was the father of Padmé's child and he had had a relationship with her own daughter she knew nothing of.

She was usually not a hesitant person but he made her uncomfortable, not because of his looks, well not entirely since he did look quite intimidating no matter how you looked at him. But what made her the most uncomfortable was the fact that she knew so little about him even though he technically was a part of her family…

Steeling herself for what she was about to do was not an easy thing but she wanted answers, no matter how short his answers would be… she wanted to know what man Padmé had loved enough to decide to start a family with.

Vader knew she was there, but he did not know what to do… he could read her feelings and thoughts like an open book but it didn't make his own decision any easier… what was he going to do?

He was too slow to act and before he knew it she was heading towards him, if he left now she might take it personally and he did not want that. He barely knew her but she was Padmé's mother, he was already unable to live with himself… the only thing keeping him going was the oath he'd sworn. If he caused Padmé's family more pain in any way he would probably just end it all…

"Hello there…" Jobal said in a warm and cautious tone, the way she said it reminded him so much of Padmé, how she used to speak to him when he was troubled about something. He already knew what she wanted but chose to ignore it, prying into her mind felt wrong.

"Hello…" he replied, his voice modulator hiding the tumultuous state he was really in, this place always made him feel this way and Jobal's presence only amplified those feelings.

"Those flowers are beautiful, where did you get them?" She was just trying to make conversation, ease into the interrogation that the conversation was in reality. His stillness intrigued her, either he was capable of looking at her while his head faced down onto the sarcophagus or his gaze was simply locked to it. That thought stung her heart.

"I picked them… a field close to lake Varykino… she always liked it there…" There was no hiding the pain that came out with those words. Jobal felt it even though the modulator did its job of hiding his tone, she still understood. But his words also gave her more clues to work with.

"It's a beautiful place, Varykino… she always liked going up to the lake retreat there." It was both a harmless statement sharing in his pain and reminiscing and one to try to get more information out of him, he knew that, but did not care.

"It is… we both loved it there…"

"You've been there?" She asked, pushing the conversation forward.

"We spent time there… as much as we could… it still holds my happiest memory."

"Your happiest memory… what is it of? If you don't mind me asking?" She felt a bit of fear creep up her spine, that had been too forward.

There was a moment of silence filled only with the sound of his respirator.

"You don't have to hide behind pleasantries…"

Jobal felt on the spot by his words, he understood what she wanted. He wasn't dumb or too preoccupied in his grief to not understand her intentions. She scolded herself internally, she was about to give an apology but he spoke before her.

"It was a couple years ago…" He did not want to hide things, but he wanted to keep his old identity hidden… at least for now…

"When we got married…"

Jobal was visibly shocked, what did he say? They got married? How had she not known about that? Why hadn't Padmé told her, or anyone in the family? This man is her son in law? Her head began to spin with the revelation… she was luckily ripped out of it when he spoke again.

"It was a secret… I don't want to go into why it was… not now…" Jobal was still at a loss for words. It had been a secret that much he said himself, but why? Her thoughts were once again cut short.

"Getting married to her will always be the happiest memory of my life… no matter what happens, nothing can take that away." He raised his right hand and seemingly looked at it stretching it out in front of him, as if looking at something.

"I still see it clearly as day… and it hurts no less every time I see it." He brought down his hand and stroked the cheek of Padmé's marble effigy. Jobal's heart ached, it was blindingly clear that he had utterly loved her daughter, the expressionless black figure showed such clear emotions even though one could not see his face and the rest of his body was hidden under the large black cloak. If one simply looked at him you couldn't blame anyone for saying that he looked and exerted the aura akin to that of a demon. But seeing him now… that was simply not the case.

Fighting through the urge to shed a tear at the display she was witnessing she finally mustered up what courage she could find and asked.

"What is your name?" Vader was not surprised by the question, he knew that it was going to come out eventually. He was sufficiently softened up by his emotions to simply let go of fighting against his mother in law. It felt weird to call her that…

"Darth Vader… but just Vader is fine… preferable rather…" Jobal sensed that there was something hidden there in how he said it but her curiosity was trampled by the fact that she finally knew the name of her son in law, Padmé's husband…

"Thank you…"

"There is nothing to thank… it's just my name."

"It's not that… thank you for being with my daughter."

At that he froze solid, simply staring at her… those words hurt more than anything he had ever felt, the pain of losing Padmé ws one he thought could never be outdone… but this… It took the pain from her death and simply made it worse, "thank you for being with my daughter" the words pierced through his empty heart… how would she feel if she knew the truth? What would the knowledge that he had been instrumental in her death do? It was a truly unbearable thought…

"Don't… it's my fault."

The modulator could not hide the tone in Vader's voice and Jobal picked up on it immediately.

"What do you mean?" What was he saying? It's his fault? For what? Then she remembered the last words he'd said to her during their first meeting.

"If you wish to cry, do it for her…"

"I do not deserve your tears…"

"I failed her…"

"I failed our child…"

"I failed myself…"

She had never seen him move very much but the way he moved towards the bench along the wall did not fit his image. It looked almost as if he was stumbling over himself, he sat down on the bench with a heavy thud and threw his face into his hands. She heard even through the modulator that tried to erase the sounds that he was crying… as if reflexively she rushed over to him and hugged him.

Vader was taken aback by her actions but could not force himself to stop it, her words completely broke him, he did not deserve her compassion, he deserved nothing but her hate and disdain. So why would she try to comfort him? Padmé was dead because of him, because he was too weak, too feeble, he hadn't done enough. His visions had come to pass and he had been powerless to stop it. It's completely unforgivable… Jobal did not know the whole truth but still… how could she forgive him for failing her daughter, failing Padmé… failing the child they were going to have together.

"I failed her… she's dead because of me… I wasn't strong enough to save her…" The self hatred and utter anguish would be clear as day to anyone and especially clear to Jobal.

"I don't want to hear another word!" She said forcefully, she was not going to let this man who so clearly adored her daughter with all of his heart to blame himself for what has happened. They'd been told that Padmé had died because of the Jedi rebellion but they were still not sure how it all had happened, she simply sat there hugging him, being there for him…

After a while she felt that he'd stopped quivering from his emotions. Even before that she'd already decided what to do, she was not going to just leave her son in law like this.

"Come now, on your feet. You're coming with me and I will hear no words to the contrary."

She had taken on the motherly tone that she had been able to practise on extensively having had two daughters herself. It might be a bit condescending at times but she felt that he needed firm support to lean on right now. Otherwise he would probably collapse in sorrow once again, which was something she would not tolerate.