Bittersweet Devotion [Star Wars x Anakin Skywalker]

part three | the dark side - 21.

"No! Try not! Do, or Do not! There is no try..." -Yoda 

19 years later

Rain Tyandas had lived nearly two decades in space, but she still wasn't accustomed to the dreadful sounds of metal creaking as the ship drifted back and forth. The Death Star was her home now, its cold, sterile halls a far cry from the warmth she once knew. Even after 19 years, those sounds still kept her awake at night.

But the creaking of metal wasn't what truly bothered her. What haunted Rain was the reality that, for 19 long years, she had been pretending to be someone she wasn't. Day by day, the facade she wore had become so convincing, even she had started to believe it. She had embraced the role of Darth Karus, a Sith Lord, a figure of fear and power. And in doing so, she had done unspeakable things—things that made her question if there was anything left of the Jedi she once was.

In her darkest moments, she told herself that she only did what the Emperor demanded because she needed to survive, not because she had become evil. But the line between survival and corruption had blurred long ago. She wondered, Is there still a part of me that is not lost?

Rain feared the answer. She feared that she had become the very thing she once vowed never to be—a servant of the dark side. Every day, the darkness seeped deeper into her soul, and every day it became harder to resist.

As she lay in her stark quarters, staring up at the dull, grey metal panels of the Death Star, her mind drifted to memories of a time before the darkness consumed her. She remembered her first Jedi training test, the first time she met Anakin, and even further back to her childhood on Tatooine. She wondered about her old friend Myreil—whether she had found happiness, perhaps even a family of her own.

Rain imagined Myreil's face, now probably lined with the first traces of wrinkles, a natural sign of age. In contrast, Rain's own face had remained unmarked by time, a cruel gift from the Emperor, who had halted the aging process for her and Anakin. It was another tool in his arsenal, another way to wield fear over the galaxy—the Sith who never aged.

But to Rain, it felt more like a curse than a gift. Her name sent people running in terror, but she wished they knew she was still on their side. Or was she?

A shiver ran down her spine as Anakin's voice suddenly echoed in her mind, commanding her to report to the Emperor's quarters. Even after all these years, his voice in her head was something she had never fully grown used to. She hated the way he could reach into her thoughts, a power that seemed unnatural, even among the many horrors she had witnessed.

She rose from her bed, her movements mechanical, almost robotic. Her quarters were as plain as ever—a stark bed, a dresser with identical outfits, and a desk that rarely saw any use. There was no comfort here, no warmth, no remnants of the life she once had. All her possessions, all her ties to the past, had been stripped away when she joined the dark side.

Pulling on her boots, Rain scuffled out the door and made her way through the unnervingly quiet corridors of the Death Star. People avoided her gaze, even changed directions to avoid crossing her path. She had earned her reputation, become someone to be feared. But that fear came with a price—loneliness, isolation, and the constant battle to keep the darkness from consuming what little was left of her soul.

As she walked, Rain remembered her early days on the Death Star. The clones had laughed at her, seeing only a weak girl. But weeks of brutal training under the Emperor's watchful eye had forged her into something else—something they no longer dared to mock. She had become a force to be reckoned with, her lightsaber a deadly weapon that could end a life in an instant.