Author's Note: I wrote this for a challenge: take a famous sentence and write what might have gone on in the character's head before he spoke the line.

*sniff* I neither own the character, nor the setting... nor anything in fact. But I can dream can't I?

Redemption of an Irredeemable

I died. There is no other way to explain that hollow feeling inside of me. I must have died. How else could I have done all that I did? Is it too late for a conscience? Too late for redemption? I don't know, and I seem to have killed the few people who would have known. They could have saved me. She could have saved me.

What have I done you ask? If you have a moment, I will try to explain. It is a long tale. A sad tale. And there are so many things I would have liked to change. I still would like to change them, don't misunderstand me. But it's just too late. You stand there in chains, self-confident, strong-minded, unfaltering. A somewhat crazed look of desperation in your eyes. But it is too late.

Did you know that I was born a slave on a desert plant, far from anything resembling civilization. Life wasn't easy, but I had my mother. I had my friends. I had my podracing. And I had my life. Then they came. I was impressed with their tricks. I liked his charismatic manner. And I believe he truly cared about my well being, and that of my mother. But he should have left me there. It would all have been better. I would never have known that she cared, that she existed, that I could love her and be loved by her. And had I stayed, I could have protected my mother from the Sand raiders. I could have saved her.

Years would pass before I was to know those certainties. Now I am old. Too old to change I believe. Is this how Obi-wan felt when I betrayed them all? That deep sense of certainty that you cannot change your mistakes? No matter how much you would want to. No. We will not speak of him now. Later is enough time. Be patient. You're just like me you know. Does the inhuman stare of my mask confuse you? Do you believe that this facade is all there is to me? Have you not yet looked below that cold surface? I was just like you. And I am what you would be should you fall.

When again I met her, she was... breathtaking. So beautiful, and elegant, and confident, and kind. They should not have sent me off with her. I corrupted her. Just by being with her, I corrupted her, even then, the taint was already in me. I killed without remorse those who killed my mother, and through that dark seed which was growing ever strong within me, I corrupted your mother. Her love should have saved me, but it only made everything worse. So much worse. But how I loved her. I would have done anything to keep her safe. To keep her alive. Just to keep her. Maybe I should have listened to her and Obi-wan. But I didn't. I listened to him. That was probably my biggest mistake. But at that point, what was one more amongst so many. The blood already clings to my hands, and no amount of scrubbing will take it off. In my weaker moments, I go mad. I feel the blood seeping over my skin, even though, there is no more skin left to feel. Only more blood makes it go away. Does this frighten you? I can feel it. But you shouldn't be frightened. Not of me. The worst I can do to you is kill you. I could do nothing else. I know I promised to turn you, but I could no more force you to become one with the Dark Side, then I could bring Obi-wan or Padmé back to life. He must not have sensed the lie. Or if he did, then he ignored it, knowing I could not defy him.

But my Son. Join me. And together we will rule, as father and son. Because... Luke... I am your father.

Will you die now? I see you fall, deeper and deeper. And the hole in my black heart becomes bigger. Soon it will be only a shell. You could have saved me, my son. But you chose death over salvation. You, my son, were my last hope of redemption.