There was a certain peace in fixing things. Anakin had always been good at it. Knowing instinctively how each part worked and how it should be placed. Of course, there hadn't been a great many things broken, but he'd found enough to occupy his time. He even used a full three days to clear his mind completely and charge the new dark blue crystals for his lightsaber. And when he'd run out of things to fix, he'd started making modifications.
(He is a bad man. Fear in Leia's eyes, unveiled anger You were my brother, Anakin! Fire on his skin, burning inside and out Anakin, you're breaking my heart! LIAR!)
A tool snapped in the grip of his cybernetic hand. With great and deliberate care, Anakin set it down on the worktable. Not even the slow peace of repairs was working any longer.