"Tell your sister… you were right," he told his son, his pride.

He couldn't deny it was nice to die feeling such emotion, even if it wasn't exactly the satisfaction he sought… or the regret he expected.

His old master would probably still scold him, always preaching about finding peace. Well, peace would be nice, but he had struggled his entire life trying to find it, did he really think he'd find it now, when he was dying? No, pride tinted by regret was good enough. In fact, it was far more than he deserved.

Closing his eyes, he felt the life leaving him and accepted his fate, letting the darkness consume him.

Unexpectedly, he felt his eyes snapping open after what felt like a lifetime. The first thing he noticed was how easy it was to breath, the second was the lack of pain.

Pushing himself up, he touched his face and felt the lack of scars. Looking down, he couldn't help widening his eyes at the two perfectly healthy hands. In a hurry, he threw the blanket away from his body revealing it whole.

He was whole, how? Why?

Stepping on the floor with his bare feet for the first time in years, he could barely believe when he took his first unassisted steps.

"Ah, sir, you really shouldn't be up right now!" A nurse rushed inside the room, a small, slightly overweight blonde woman, she wrapped an arm around his waist and guided him back into a sitting position. Still confused, he let her.

"What happened? Is the Empire…?" he asked, feeling the air hitting his skin without pain and not knowing what to do.

"Empire? Sir, you were caught by Lung's last rampage, the empire wasn't involved," the nurse said, using some primitive equipment to measure his pulse. "You're lucky Panacea volunteered to heal anyone hurt that day, she even managed to replace your missing limbs."

"I… what?" he didn't recognize the names spoken. Centering himself, he felt the Force flowing around him in strange patterns, completely alien to anything he had ever felt before. "Do you have a mirror?"

"Yes, sure."

Soon, the nurse handed him a small mirror and he looked at his own, perfectly healthy face, he even had hair again, how… nostalgic. "I look younger," he commented, he looked at least ten years younger than expected.

"Ah, well, with your burns, Panacea didn't exactly know what you looked like sir, she did her best, but there can be some differences," the nurse fidgeted, taking away the mirror and stepping away from him. "How old are you?"

"45," he commented, considering his extremely odd situation.

"Well, you're a very young looking 45 now."

"Do you have access to the Holonet?" He asked, trying his best not to make it an order, it was hard, he really wasn't used to asking for things.

"Ah, sir… do you mean the internet?" The woman asked, giving him an odd look and checking her clipboard for information.

"…Yes," he lied. He understood that people on the Outer Rim didn't exactly have access to the Holonet, but to not even know of its existence? There was something very wrong here.

"Sir, I'm just gonna call your doctor and we… wait, what are you doing?" she asked as he got back to his feet, nobody had ever accused him of being a patient man. "Sir, I'm gonna…"

"You will give me access to this… internet," he waved a hand over her face, causing the woman's aggression to vanish and her eyes to grow dull.

Yes, he seemed to have gotten a second chance in life, and he no longer wished to be the same monster he had been for the last few years, for many reasons. He still hated himself and what he had done, but he didn't want to wallow in that hate and use it to justify his every action.

The woman pulled some device and handed it to him. The touch commands took some time to get used to, but he had always been gifted with technology and soon started browsing the internet and gathering information.

Handing the 'phone' back to the woman, he got up and left the room feeling… conflicted. It seems like he was on a planet called 'Earth', how unimaginative. It was a planet that hadn't even achieved space flight yet.

The only Empire they had was a pathetic supremacist organization with a few Force adepts to its name. He shook his head in confusion, being a human supremacist he could understand, even if he never agreed with it, but judging yourself superior just because of skin color…

Well, perhaps if they were like the Twi'leks and some colors were much rarer than others, but nothing on the 'internet' indicated that, they seemed just like the humans he knew about, and humans weren't really like that.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to return to your room," what he assumed was a doctor approached him.

"Take me somewhere I can find some clothes," he ordered with a wave of his hand. He never really liked this particular use of the Force, and it didn't come as easy for him as it did his former master, but it was very convenient.

Ten minutes later, he walked through the streets wearing a pair of jeans and white shirt, his mind considering things as he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of the wind on his skin.

The city wasn't quite a hive of scum and villainy, but it was close, with gang markings everywhere and almost nobody daring to walk alone, moving with hurried steps and keeping a watch around. Things just kept getting more and more nostalgic.

Was this how the Sith of old felt when they first met the race that would give them their name? A primitive planet filled with Force adepts that barely knew anything about the Force itself, attributing much of its power to mysticism and keeping whatever secrets they discovered in families?

In reality, he wasn't entirely certain that those… 'parahumans' were really Force adepts, some of their powers he had never heard about even in legends but, well, while he knew a lot about the Force, he couldn't claim to know everything.

Finding himself in a small park, he sat down at one of the benches and considered what he would do. He had so many options, he just didn't know which he should take.

While being stuck on a planet without space capabilities would be the end for most, he had always had a hand with technology, and had quite a lot of experience with building things from subpar materials.

So, he'd build himself a ship, leave this planet and try to reconnect with his son… and his daughter, to apologize, to try and make up for what he did, but then what? Perhaps his death had been for the best.

While he wanted to think of himself as… redeemed, he couldn't lie, one act of good borne out of love wasn't enough to fully drive him away from the dark side. He still felt the hate, the regret, the self-loathing that had driven so many of his actions.

It would be so easy to fall again, so tempting.

More than that, he knew even his son hadn't really forgiven him. He had loved him, yes, but he hadn't forgiven. Much of what he had done was unforgivable, to just… go back would probably only cause more trouble.

Changing position, he found a good spot under a tree and closed his eyes, centering himself in the Force, feeling its flow all around him. At first, he attempted to keep the Jedi code in mind, but quickly found that he couldn't.

He couldn't deny emotion, he couldn't deny passion, he most certainly couldn't deny ignorance or chaos, not after his life.

Slowly, he let the Force guide his thoughts, attempting to avoid the same mistakes that had first driven him to the dark. Eventually, he found his thoughts returning to the old Jedi code and feeling that it resonated far more with him.

Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

He let his emotions flow through him, he acknowledged them, and their importance, yet they didn't guide his actions, he sought a balance… It almost caused him to smile.

His entire life, he had been told that he needed to seek balance, but he never did. None of the Jedi had. By throwing away their own emotions they had been as out of balance as the Dark Side users, only on the other side of the scale.

He wouldn't claim to have achieved any drastic revelation while meditating, but he felt better, more centered, less aggressive.

Opening his eyes again, he noticed several people giving him odd looks as he lay under the wide tree, but he didn't mind. Now he just needed to decide what to do.

He had several options, but he wasn't sure of any of them. He could always try to leave the planet, seeking to reunite with his family once again. Perhaps he owed it to the Galaxy to let them judge him, but what would his son do? Would he be able to do what the Galaxy wanted him to, or would he try to protect him out of love? Should he stay away, forgotten, defeated? What would be best for his family?

On any occasion, he had to live here for at least some time, and he needed some way of sustaining himself. Joining this… 'protectorate' felt like the wrong move, not only did he dislike the very thought of being under someone he didn't trust, the force itself warned him of that path.

Plus, he'd have to fight, to act as law enforcement for a larger organization whose goals and values he didn't share once again, following orders and not his own morals. It hadn't ended well for anybody the last two times he took that path, and even the Force didn't seem to think it would go any better the third time.

His knowledge would let him pass as one of those… 'Tinkers', so he could probably get support from almost any group, even if he didn't wish to fight himself, not risking losing himself in his anger. And he had no doubt that he could find a way of sustaining himself alone if it was needed.

Yes, perhaps he should avoid even using the Force for some time, focus on fully regaining his balance without risking getting into any confrontations. Find a more mundane job for a while , letting such worries fade into the background for a time.

The Force drew his attention towards a group of… 'Asians'? Was that what they were called? And he could feel them preparing to approach him. Wanting to avoid any confrontation, he got up and dusted his new pair of jeans.

He lost sight of the young Asians as soon as he turned the corner, then continued walking calmly through the city, letting the Force guide his steps.

All around the city, he sensed an overtone of fear and helplessness, and every person he saw on the street had a small air of apathy, as if they would continue to live, but were resigned to it only getting worse.

The comparison with the citizens of the Empire was immediate, and he couldn't help noticing –Now that he was no longer lying to himself– how much damage he had done to the Galaxy, how much suffering he had created in the name of his Emperor, of control, of order.

Suddenly, his eyes were drawn to a young girl desperately turning a corner, she fell on her hands, scratching her palms on the floor, turning to look at the mostly empty street, she saw him.

Her eyes went wide and she gathered herself, running straight at him as fast as her small legs could, she almost ran past him, but froze in place and grabbed his hand. "It's you! You make the numbers break."

Looking at the straight, dark-brown haired kid holding on to his arm, he was momentarily distracted by the force as it seemed to gather itself with anticipation.

Looking at the girl's desperate eyes, Anakin thought that, if he could sense shatterpoints, this would be a pretty big one.

"Ah, friend, thank you for stopping the girl," a man said, walking calmly towards their position.

Anakin glanced towards him and saw the signs of military training, and the hidden weapons at his back, his eyes flickered around the street and he saw several others trying to encircle them.

Opening himself to the Force, he didn't sense anyone behind him yet, but there were over eleven men in front of him and at his side.

He could recognize mercenaries and bounty hunters when he saw them, and ones that probably didn't care about any laws. After all, he had met far too many of their lot in his life, as both allies and enemies.

The power of the Force gathered around him, as if waiting for his decision with glee. Anakin had almost forgotten how it felt to have the Force so willing to move for him, so eager even without being gripped with his iron control.

"The kid likes to run away, thank you for stopping her," the mercenary said, giving them a huge, fake smile. "Come on Dinah, it's time to stop playing."

Almost giving an amused smile at the man's lies, Anakin turned to look at the girl's eyes and considered his decision. He didn't want to fight, no, he did, he just feared what would happen later.

"Please, please, please, please," the girl kept repeating herself and hugged his arm with as much strength as she could. "I don't want them to take me away, I… don't want to!"

"Come on friend, step away from the girl and we can all go our separate ways," the mercenary said, his smile vanishing as he grabbed at his back and showed him a large blaster.

"No, I don't think I will," Anakin's eyes never left the girl's, Dinah.

He felt no small amount of satisfaction as he squeezed the kid's hand back and gave her some security. What he had done at the Jedi Temple a lifetime ago was one of his worst regrets in life, and what truly marked his fall to the dark side.

At the time, he had thought it a necessary step. He had thought it essential to fully eliminate the taint of the Jedi from the Galaxy, justified to himself that he needed to eliminate them if he wanted there to be order in the Galaxy, and that death by his hand was better than to be handed over to his then new master.

It was perhaps the single act that drove him forward for most of his life. He could have come back from much of what he did, but that single act was more brutal, and more terrible than almost any other before or after. After that, his path needed to be the correct one, it just needed to.

"Possible parahuman interference," Anakin heard one of the mercenaries talking on a comm unit. "Understood, engaging."

The Force shouted a warning on his mind, but he didn't even turn back towards them, only lazily lifting a hand while continuing to stare at the girl's eye, almost lost in memory.

The laser stopped in front of his head, frozen in place and almost shaking in the air, then the others opened fire. A second later, Anakin finally turned towards the men, dozens of shafts of yellow light shaking in the air in front of him, looking like a forest of spears pointed his way.

They weren't quite like blaster bolds, but it was close enough as to not matter. Picking the child up on his arm, Anakin held her against his chest and stepped aside, letting the bolts fly by his former position to strike the ground at the same time.

The resulting explosion lifted a wave of dust into the air, obscuring his position. Anakin knew he should disengage, rescue the girl and leave, preventing any further aggressive action. He just couldn't.

He sighed, his temper always had been a problem, even when he was aware of it.

With a flick of his wrist, a car flew from the sidewalk, blocking a few more shots that would have hit him, some of the mercenaries tried to lob concussion grenades to disable him, but a Force Push sent them right back, and the noise and light barely bothered him when it was so far away.

Finally extending his arm forward, he sent the car flying, smashing into the first mercenary with so much strength he was completely crushed. Slowly, he closed his fist, squeezing it tightly.

The force almost shouted with glee, jumping to follow his request. A metal street lamp went flying, impaling a second mercenary trying to flank him, then the pavement broke, peeling away from the ground and lifting in the air before breaking into huge blocks of asphalt that flew towards his attackers.

The blocks smashed into the mercenaries, exploding against their protections. Around him, pieces of debris and cars floated as if he was the center of a hurricane, picking up speed before flashing towards his attackers.

The Force screamed at him again and he turned to the right, seeing two men aiming at him from inside the building. A blast bolt flew right at his face.

With a wave of his hand, he used tutaminis to slap the bolt back towards one of his attackers, burning a hole through his head, a second later, a car smashed through the building, killing the other.

Anakin felt the kid grabbing his shirt and burying her face on his chest, her entire body shaking. Realizing that there were no longer any enemies alive, he dropped his arm, then laid it against the back of her head, offering comfort.

Around him, the field of debris dropped to the ground with a deafening impact, almost causing the entire street to shake. Looking at the utterly collapsed street, with cables of energy and water leaking from dug up pipes, Anakin sighed, he really should have tried to be more diplomatic.

He was trying to be better, he really was, but old habits die hard, and smashing criminals was so much easier, and far more cathartic, than talking with them.

Turning towards the little girl, he put a smile on his face and tried to be gentle. "Now, let us get you back to your family."

"Eighty nine point forty three percent chances that my family dies if I go back," the girl whispered against his chest.

Well, that complicated things.

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