Author's Notes: Some small references have been taken from the novel ‘Dark Lord: The rise of Darth Vader’ by James Luceno. This tale started as a post for an AU rp (it was used to portray the setting) but my bf convinced me that it was ‘good enough’ to pass off as fanfic. So this tale is for him D

'I see a great hand reaching out from the stars; it is your hand. I hear voices, billions of voices calling your name.'

'My followers?'

'No, your victims.' - Babylon 5

He was running. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. The tall trees rushed past him just as two moons light his way. There was sense of urgency that was too powerful to deny and too fervent to ignore. So he let it drive him forward. He didn’t know where she was, but he knew her life was in danger and that was enough.

Ani where are you?

He could hear the sound of her voice over his panting breath and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the forest floor. Her voice was filled with fear and he felt his heart tighten to the sound of it. Even more terrifying was the realization that he couldn’t sense her presence at all, neither through the Force nor through their bond. In fact he couldn’t feel the mental connection between them at all. It left him feeling vulnerable, desperate and lost.

He tried to call out to her, almost pleading for her to show herself so he could protect her from this unseeing threat. But he can’t see her at all through the trees and through the pale moonlight.

Suddenly a rustle is heard ahead and to his immense relief it is the one he sought.

“Padmé…”

He breathed her name as though he were speaking the name of a goddess. But if she heard his voice it doesn’t cause the petite woman to slow down as she continues to run as fast as her legs can carry her. If anything the sound of his voice had only served encourage her movement. The fear that he felt hanging from her voice now pours off of her in waves.

Just who or what was hunting her and why?

The thought instantly caused his blood to boil like molten lava. Whoever dared to hunt his angel would pay, dearly. If only he could catch up to her, to stop her from running, to ensure the threat crossed his path and not hers. But no matter how fast he ran she was always just out of reach. Even when he tried to send soothing thoughts to calm her fears, it only seemed to worsen them.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity of running she reached the edge of the forest. Beyond it was unknown for there was a thick bright mist that blinded him to what lied ahead. However to his immense relief she had stopped running. Remaining still with her back turned to him she ceased to move. Her dark silhouette clad in a blue gown, a sharp contrast to the dark forest behind her and the thick mist ahead of her.

Approaching quickly he reached out to touch her shoulder, to draw her attention, to let her know he was there for her.

“Padmé, I’m here, you’re safe now.”

The petite woman whirled around to face him; her blacksmith’s blade with the burgundy and orange robe dangling from its hilt now pointed at his throat. This wasn't Padmé, rather her infamous decoy, Sabé. Instinctively he stepped back in surprise. Hardly threatened, though now confused and furious he glared at her. If she was frightened by his presence it didn't show.

“Don’t you see? She’s running away from you.”

While her blade could cause him no harm the powerful truth of her words had a far more potent effect.

Hours seemed to slip through his fingers like sand but the fallen Jedi hardly noticed. He went through the motions as expected of him like a droid following it’s programming, but inwardly his thoughts were always elsewhere.

She was gone.

His dearest angel was dead, as was their child.

He had been given the opportunity to bear witness to the funeral procession first hand, but he couldn't bring himself to return to Naboo. The memories were just too powerful and the pain too overwhelming to even consider.

For with her passing went the last lingering light of his existence. Even worse was the painful reality that he had no one else to blame but himself. He could save an entire empire, end a war and bring balance to the Force, but he couldn’t even save the one’s he loved.

There are far worse things in this universe than death, she once told him and now he knew what that was. This wasn’t living in any sense of the word. He once told his Master that he couldn’t live without her and he meant it. But here he was not alive, but not dead; a broken shell of the man he once was, trapped in a living nightmare he couldn't wake up from. All this, and for what?

If his hands were flesh they would be shaking right now. Just as a sigh would have escaped his lips if his breath were his own. The tears however were his and they now collected in his eyes despite his demands that they remain hidden. For the first time he thanked the Force for the heavy mask that hid his pained expression.

She was amongst the stars now with their child, just as he found himself trapped in this living hell. An angel dies, so a demon may live, his thoughts mocked forcing him to turn away from the massive windows and walk down the long path that led to the exit of the command and control room. He felt their eyes on him and knew their thoughts, their curiosity. Was he a man, a machine, a cyborg? It was maddening and if he had better control over the powerful darkness he now wielded, the fallen Jedi would have unleashed it on all of them without hesitation. But he refrained for the moment not wishing to damage the delicate machinery that controlled the functions of this ship. Perhaps there was still a part of him that wanted to live after all.

Why however he could not say, for he had nothing left to live for. What good was having such power if there was no joy to be found? The thought was troubling and it only added to the stifling confusion that even now continued to plague him. Even in rest he couldn’t find peace from the storm within as it would only take the form of nightmares much like the one he had experienced the night before.

He reminded himself that dreams were fleeting, that he shouldn’t let them control his thoughts. Yet as he struggled to make himself believe this he was unaware that only now he was taking his former master (brother) words to heart.

However the dreams, like Padmé’s memory, continued to haunt him.

Don’t you see? She’s running away from you.

Moving down the hallways in steady but swift footsteps he tried to ignore the terrible truth that the simple statement carried. But ultimately one can never truly hide from the truth. For like a double edged sword it cuts through even the most potent of lies. Even if it takes an eternity, in the end it always makes itself known and this was no different for the man once known as Anakin.

The danger posed to Padmé and their child had never been an outside threat. It had been him all along.

Now the tears came, unbidden and unwanted, burning his healing flesh like the lavas of Mustafar. Thankfully he was now alone in the private chambers of his personal quarters. Yet even in this place there is no solace to be found. For there can be no peace for a soul torn apart by bloodlust, greed and darkness.

However before he had a chance to fully succumb to the guilt and confusion of these thoughts, the holo-com chimed revealing the hooded form of Darth Sidious. Anakin instantly buried all memories pertaining to her upon seeing his master. Yet despite this he knew it was fruitless, for his master was well aware that he was still mourning her passing. For even a mask can cover only so much.

Bowing on one knee he too tried to ignore the fact he was still struggling to get used to metallic shell that acted as his arms, legs and lungs.

“What is your bidding? My master.”

He stated hesitating briefly as he spoke the Sith Lord’s title. Though only a short time had passed already Lord Vader was testing the limits of his position, for such careful placement of words marked subtle defiance. Unbeknownst to Lord Vader this was an expected reaction and in fact was subtly encouraged. As it was part of the dangerous game that marked the relationship between a Sith Lord and his apprentice. For it served to keep his protégé focused and would ultimately further enslave him to his master.

“Lord Vader, your presence is required on Coruscant. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you personally in regards to Order 66.”

Darth Vader didn’t further question the matter for he already knew that it pertained to the remnant Jedi that survived the purge. This too would be dealt with in good time. Unfortunately it was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment and the first mission he knew he was going to be ordered to complete.

“As you wish my master.”

This time there was no hesitancy or silent defiance. For all he wanted was to end the mission he knew he would soon embark upon, to finally bury the ghost of Anakin Skywalker. If only he knew that the truth can never be truly erased, and some ghosts can never be laid to rest.