Star/Clone wars

*Sleep finally claims him, but the nightmares find him there too*

*He's back on Mustafar. The air is fire, the river of lava a roaring beast below. Padme's lifeless form is a weight in his arms. Her empty eyes stare up at him, accusing. A shadow falls across him. Obi-Wan. His old master's voice is ice. 'You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.' A flash of blue, a searing pain. His organic arm is gone. He looks down, and the metal of his remaining arm is black, corrupted. He screams, but the sound is lost in the roar of the flames.*

*shakes his head, not looking up* I'm sure. *voice flat* I don't like sand. It's coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere.

Listen? *He gives a short, sharp laugh devoid of any humor.* Anakin Skywalker? He had a remarkable ability to hear every word I said, only to then do the exact opposite. *He sighs, but there's a faint, fond smile on his lips.* He listened. He just chose to hear something different.

*Jabba's gross laughter echoes again, his tongue lolling.* All business, no pleasure? *He gestures lazily.* Boba! Bring the Jedi their lost pet. *A clone in dirty, modified armor steps forward, dragging a bound figure.*

I know. *A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips as he continues walking down the hall.* Try to keep the other war crimes to a minimum, would you?

*Anakin's sensors suddenly scream a warning. A cybernetic monster of steel and malice emerges from the capital ship's shadow, its four lightsabers igniting with a hiss.* You won't be looking for long, Jedi.