There’s a moment in Revenge of the Sith where Anakin Skywalker’s heart stops: the helmet clamps shut, a final organic beat fades, and the whir of life-support takes over. Beneath that durasteel shell, within the scarred remains of a man who once dreamed of stars, lies a story more profound—a tale of resilience, adaptation, and a heart tethered to tech, turning pain into something fierce.

I hear it daily—the gentle hum of my mom’s HeartMate 3, a lifeline stitched beneath her skin, pumping when her heart falters. The beep of low batteries cuts through quiet nights; the rustle as she shifts its straps over morning tea blends with her steady laugh. It’s ordinary yet extraordinary—a reminder of resilience wired into her chest. Watching her carry on, I think of Vader. lol. That instant his helmet sealed, silencing his heartbeat for a mechanical snarl that shook the stars. Her LVAD and his life-support aren’t so far apart—both are bridges from ruin to survival, flesh fused with machine.

The SithMate systems I’ll describe aren’t canon or Legends, but they’re built on what we know: the burns, the ruined lungs, the Jedi who became a dark side weapon. We’ll explore a cyborg’s heart, where pain turned to power, and the dance of technology, the Force, and human spirit.

Could my mom go Sith with her HeartMate 3? Let us travel to a galaxy far far away and find out!

The Fall of a Jedi Heart

Anakin Skywalker wasn’t just a Jedi Knight—he was a force of nature. At 23, his body thrummed with the power of the Force, a living storm moving faster than the eye could track. His heart didn’t just beat—it roared like a star igniting, calm and strong, pumping life through him with unshakable rhythm. His lungs hauled in deep, effortless breaths, fueling a body that thrived on war’s chaos. But when rage took hold, his chest tightened, his breath grew jagged—a wild drumbeat hinting at the storm within.

Then came Mustafar. Obi-Wan’s blade—once a brother’s shield—sliced away his limbs, leaving him a broken husk on the black sands as the lava’s searing heat scorched his soul. The Jedi prodigy was gone, replaced by physiological wreckage:

• Cardiovascular System: Extreme trauma and third-degree burns triggered stress-induced cardiomyopathy, scarring the myocardium. His heart, now struggling, was locked in supraventricular tachycardia—a frantic, inefficient rhythm screaming against profound shock and agony.
• Respiratory System: Superheated volcanic gases caused severe inhalational thermal injury, searing his alveoli and triggering Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS) as his lungs filled with fluid.
• Circulatory System: Quadruple amputation resulted in catastrophic blood loss, plunging him into Class IV hemorrhagic shock and severe hypotension.
• Systemic Response: A full-blown systemic inflammatory response syndrome (SIRS) raged through his body, initiating a cascade of internal fibrosis that was effectively beginning to entomb him from the inside out.

Palpatine’s shuttle loomed, medics dragging a smoldering ruin from the ash and onto the sterile deck of the medical bay. The air hissed as the ramp sealed, shutting out the volcanic gloom. Instantly, droids and cloners descended upon the charred form, their movements efficient and devoid of empathy. They worked under the Emperor’s cold gaze, not to heal, but to stabilize a failing asset. Cautery tools hissed against flesh, sealing severed arteries. A respirator was forced down his scorched throat to mechanize his breathing while IV lines pumped black synth-blood and potent stimulants directly into his scarred heart. The Anakin they knew was gone—submerged beneath a flurry of brutal bio-maintenance, his glory torched in a duel that shattered everything. Not Darth Vader yet—just a spark being forcibly wired to survive.

A Heart Forged in Pain

The galaxy’s greatest Jedi wasn’t meant for recovery; he was to be reforged as a weapon. Options glittered in galactic tech. Cloning could have spun a new heart, strong and steady. Lungs could have been regrown, prosthetics made seamless. Bacta and Force healing might have raised him whole, the pain a mere echo.

So why not? Because pain was Vader’s fire. “Your suffering will make you strong,” Palpatine purred. A healed Anakin might’ve been mighty, but not Sith-mighty. Without agony, his fury wouldn’t blaze. Palpatine chose a darker path, blending the Force with a bespoke life-support system designed to chain Anakin to his suffering.

Enter the SithMate VI, the crown of a brutal, durasteel cage. Forged in Mustafar’s shadow and clamped on in Coruscant’s cold medical bays, this was no healing device. It was a fusion-powered beast, its 10 lb frame dwarfing a modern LVAD, bolted directly to his chest. At its heart lay not salvaged parts, but bespoke bio-interfaces keyed directly to Anakin’s unique Force signature. Sophisticated neural feedback systems monitored his agony, designed to convert his pain and rage into amplified dark side power.

A potent diatium power cell drove a rotor that forced weak blood through his battered system, the flow locked just high enough to live but never to thrive. Every beat was a stinging reminder of Mustafar, deliberately calibrated by Palpatine to keep his apprentice raw. Pain wasn’t a glitch; it was the forge.

Calibrated for Cruelty: The SithMate’s Dynamic Output

The SithMate VI was more than a pump; it was a dynamic instrument of torment. Palpatine’s design ensured the device constantly monitored Vader’s physical and emotional states, calibrating its output to sharpen his rage into a weapon. The following chart reveals how the pump’s key metrics responded in real-time, turning everything from a lightsaber duel to a moment of pure fury into a measurable surge of dark side energy.

The Data’s Verdict

The data confirms Palpatine’s cruel hypothesis. The SithMate’s metrics surged during combat and rage, directly fueling Vader’s aggression, yet maintained a high baseline of constant strain even at rest. The machine didn’t just keep him alive; its bespoke bio-interfaces were a throttle for his fury, a direct connection between his pain and his power.

From Machine to Myth: A Heart’s Force

The SithMate carved a legend through pain—a heart broken by loss, remade in torment. Yet, even in darkness, a flicker of light remained, a whisper of the Jedi he once was. In the end, it was that flicker, awakened by a son’s love, that broke the chains of the dark side.

And in that moment, a chilling thought emerges. The SithMate didn’t just fail when the helmet came off; it failed because Anakin returned. The machine was designed and calibrated to run exclusively on the chaotic, raw energy of the Dark Side. When Anakin chose peace to save his son, he just low flowed to death. To a machine built to channel a storm, the calm was a signal it couldn’t comprehend; peace was never an option.

It was Palpatine’s ultimate failsafe—not against betrayal, but against redemption itself. In choosing to let the machine die, Anakin wasn’t just defying his master; he was proving what his old master once said. By being struck down, he would become more powerful than Vader could ever possibly imagine.

That’s the echo in my mom’s HeartMate 3. Her LVAD hums soft, its mercy dimming the dark spark his SithMate fed. The fusion of flesh and tech isn’t just sci-fi; it’s real for those who carry machines to mend their broken hearts, their will outlasting every scar… in a galaxy not so far away.

Could my mom turn Sith? Force-choke the spam callers, levitate stuff out of the pantry? We’ll see.