I own nothing that you recognise.

A/N 13/08/2009 - I've tidied this up a little. I'm not one hundred percent sure how ff works. I'm pretty sure that by replacing the chapter anyone with alerts wont get notified but in case they do the chapter has simply been primped, not changed.

Please enjoy!

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Three years after RotS

He stood at the balcony, knowing it made for a terrifying sight. The dark lord standing as still as a statue, armour gleaming and cape fluttering in the breeze. No-one would know how awkward it actually felt. How strange it was to look out and see leaves and hair and fabric move from the breeze and yet remain completely unaffected by it. Such was the curse of the suit.

You wouldn't be able to tell from his body language. The machines took care of everything, working hard to instantly to detect and erase any problems or abnormalities in the biological functions.

He'd almost learned not to miss it. Not to miss the breeze, not to miss the shudder that would have ran over him occasionally at being so cut off from the world. His mechanical alterations allowed no perceived weakness, but there were still times, very occasional times where he wished that he could sigh or lay down.

Or shiver.

These were stupid matters, ones that only came to his mind when he had little to do. Tomorrow he would leave for the star destroyer, ensuring peace by being a figure of fear that disinclined argument from the masses. Tomorrow there would be something to do, engine reports, meetings with spies, diplomatic meetings with pathetic leaders.

But for now there was nothing to do and he hated it.

The city planet looked almost peaceful from where he stood. In the distance he could see tiny dots of ships in the everlasting traffic. The military area that he looked over was moving but with very little haste, typical for this time of night.

He could see the royal palace from where he stood. He had declined any offer to live in the building, disliking the idea that he may run into old friends of hers at a regular basis. Besides he was all too aware that it had been an offer for show only. Palpatine had no intention of having Vader live in the royal palace.

Palpatine it seemed was trying to distance himself from his apprentice. From his media manipulations it seemed as if Vader wad going to be the iron fist and Palpatine the just leader. He had no doubt that had it been different, had there not been the suit Palpatine would have made him into a tragic hero, not that caged beast.

The dark side truly was a great force. Each time he left the sessions with Palpatine he felt stronger, more alive. The feeling would fade after a certain number of hours but he knew how to destroy so much more efficiently.

He had never asked about the power he had turned for and Palpatine had never offered it.

There were times when selfishly he wondered if that power would restore him to his former glory. And then as he thought that he would think of her. Think that this was his punishment for what he had done. He had loved neither wisely nor well in his last moments with her. Cutting himself off from the world seemed right somehow. This way he would remain detached, no weakness and no way of falling again.

Annoyed with such feelings of morose he turned away and marched back to his chambers. Meditation to pass the night was seeming to be the only sane course of action. Four years ago the idea would have filled him…no it would have filled Anakin Skywalker with distaste. Lord Vader knew the importance of patient activities such as this. Had he been better at it then certain things needn't have happened.

He would not follow in the footsteps of that foolish, idealistic Jedi

Settling down he closed the oxygen chamber and succumbed to the cold medical touch of the droids. Detaching himself took very little effort, he had learned many months ago that letting his mind wander at such times was unhealthy. Far better to meditate than stew over what should have been and what he desperately hoped could be.

Shaking himself he lent into the force. As always it was there, dark and cool, a relief to the constant heat and stuffiness that he usually had to put up with. He could loose himself in it for hours. More than once he had considered just letting go and falling into it forever. Machines however would not allow that to happen. Emotional suffering was not in their vocabulary

Nor should they be in one of the Sith.

Startled by an unusual feeling his eyes flew open and then widened in some shock.

He was no longer in the hands of medical droids.

Instead he was in a room, one that was lit only by the moonlight and furbished well but not overly decoratively. For a second he was sure that there was something wrong with the room.

With an instinct he'd tried to rid himself of, he put his hands towards his chin and froze when he didn't come into contact with anything but his face.

The mask was gone.

He sucked in his breath enjoying the fact that he was able to. Stupidly he tried holding his breath, ridiculously happy when he discovered that he could do so.

Where the force was he?

Forcing himself to think logically with the methods his master had taught him he glared at the room. There was only one thing this could be he thought with a slight sinking of his heart

A vision.

Yet this was like no other vision he had experienced, nor anything like his master had described.

That left two options. Either his master had lied or he himself had never experienced this before. Part of him, that still childish part, hoped that it was the later. But as much as he would like to believe that once again he was capable of overshadowing those around him he was forced to accept the likely option was the former.

He was curious though. The vision seemed to be showing him nothing except this room. There were likely to be thousands all over Coruscant…Imperial Centre.

He froze when he heard the sound of padding. The sound of bare feet slapping against a firm floor. The sound momentarily brought his attention to his feet and the flash of thought that perhaps he could feel that coolness again.

He shook himself. He was a Sith lord for Force sake. Sith Lords do not long to walk around barefooted, nor do they have meaningless visions. This was pointless and ultimately a waste of time. The sensations were not real, simply some torment of what he could never have. It was time to end this and return.

He concentrated on his own body, on what would be there, what would be felt. All he could think as he searched for a way to return to his mind was pain. That was what he would go back to.

Irritated at the conflict within himself he opened his eyes. Staying here would achieve little. There was no advancement of power, no way to seek revenge on those who so deserved it.

There was no way to continue to scream his hatred at the universe for…what had happened.

"Why are you sad?"

He froze and looked down. At some point during his mental conflict a small child had appeared.

Angered at himself he glared at the boy.

The child seemed utterly oblivious to his dark mood. Instead he looked worried, looking around and finally looking up wonderingly at him.

He stared at the boy trying to will him out of this vision. No matter what he did the force would not respond. It was like he had lost all contact.

It was very disturbing.

Unless this wasn't his doing?

Interested at the new thought he studied the child. A force user perhaps. He'd never heard of something like this happening but perhaps the child was naturally reaching out to someone who could teach him. With the destruction of the Jedi order it was possible that he was the only person the child could contact.

A force user. A child. He mused over the concept. Palpatine would do one of two things should he find out. Order the boy's death in case he took the child as his apprentice or alternatively Palpatine would take the boy and train the child to one day overthrow him.

Such was the rule of two.

He should really destroy the boy now, but a small part of him was vaguely curious as to this child's appearance. He studied the child carefully; wide blue eyes that were trying to take in everything at once, fly-away sandy blond hair. A tan that was oddly familiar to him. He starred at the shape of this face, the sweep of the brow, curve of the lips…

For the first time in years he found himself gasping for breath. Ironic really seeming how that should have been all that he'd been doing.

He knelt in a sudden movement with a grace he no longer possessed and gripped the child's chin. The blue eyes widened with surprise and a small flash of wariness.

Those were his own blue eyes. In a face that was more reminiscent to him of hers than his...

This had to be a nightmare. A cruel curse of the force. Vengeance for the life he took…

The lives.

He never allowed himself to think about her. He hated the very mention of her name, the memories it bought with it, the utter and complete failure on his part. He had spent a long time grieving and trying to erase her. The death of their child had been an added blow. He had wanted the child but it hadn't really existed to him. It had been too surreal, to new. Gone before it had really been there.

And now this...this was in front of him, this image of what could have been, what he had no doubt should have been. A manifestation of one of his greatest horrors.

This was cruel.

It was the only thing that filled his mind. Other than huge curious blue eyes

Cruel.

Perhaps the traitorous bastard had concocted this. Taking her, his limbs and everything else was not enough of a punishment for wiping out that treacherous order. He would tear Him apart when he found him, rip him limb from limb. Perhaps let him live for a few days to understand exactly what sit was that he went through every day.

"Your very tall"

He snapped his attention back to the child, realising that he had been getting lost in his fantasies. The child was rocking back on his heels and watching him thoughtfully. He felt something in him lighten at the expression in the boys face, the wonder and innocent interest. Against his will a finger clutching the boy's chin stroked the soft cheek.

His child…Her child.

A son.

Something built within him equal hate and something that he dare not even acknowledge. He pulled back slightly trying to remember the old technique to control your emotions. He couldn't let himself be caught by this, couldn't allow the weakness that had shattered him previously.

"Don't be sad" the boy murmured looking very concerned. The small hand reached out to pat him on the shoulder, in a way that Vader imagined he had seen others do.

He nearly cursed himself when he realised that he was allowing himself to get sucked in by this creative vision. But at the same time he felt helpless to prevent what was happening, his responses. He couldn't move. He was utterly frozen. He was desperate to move forward, to hold the little boy. But the part of him that he had tried to develop over the past years hissed at the thought. Weakness. This was not real. To give in would be to give into whoever had done this. It could be a test from Palpatine, a way to weaken him from Him.

But it was proving impossible to get out of the vision.

"Are you my Daddy?"

That was it. That was what did it. He couldn't leave, wasn't strong enough to pull away. Be damned with the consequences if for a minute he could pretend...

He grabbed the little boy and pulled him into his arms, relishing the feeling of contact with another human for the first time in years.

The boy's hair tickled his nose, and he smelt of outdoors, engine grease and honey.

Little arms wrapped around his neck and he felt dampness in the corners of his eyes. He should have had this. It was what he'd intended. Ultimate power to protect his family, not...

He pulled back to stroke some of the hair out of the boy's eyes. He allowed a small smile to appear on his face for the first time in what felt like decades.

A shy, sweet grin appeared on the boys face.

He nodded not able to say the words.

The boy bit his lip, face lighting up.

"Where did you go?"

"I've…I…" it was ridiculous. He could control entire armies, quake the souls of some of the Empire's most powerful. But he couldn't answer that little boy. Not with the truth certainly.

"I had to go away"

The boy seemed to accept that with a nod and a shrug. Suddenly he looked up to the ceiling and tilted his head to one side as if listening to something.

"What is it?" he whispered to the boy

The child focussed his attention back on him "Have to go".

The thought terrified him and relieved some part of him. Before he could say anything there was a tremor in the force.

The room was replaced with the silver ceiling of the dome. His helmet back in place and the jaws rising

For exactly thirteen seconds he sat there starring into space.

Then the entirety of the computer systems across from him begun to shatter.

One after the other.

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He stared at the devastation that he had created earlier that morning. Outside three officers lay dead for daring to interrupt him. Palpatine had not even attempted to find out why he was screaming in outrage through the force. He studied the mess with a cool, calm detachment. The only thing left after the thunderous fury that had swamped him.

Kenobi had done this to him.

Palpatine would have crackled at him, sneered and told him of his weakness by now. The child had been killed with her. It had to be Kenobi. He was the only one that remained that was not only powerful enough to do this, but to have the motive.

Now it only strengthened his resolve to get revenge.

The Jedi had turned his beloved against him. Had caused the death of his child. However Kenobi had summoned that…vision he had only served to ensure his death would be that much more painful when Vader finally found him.

And by the Force he would find him and wipe the Jedi from existence, and anything that was halfway reminiscent of their teachings.