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Chapter Text

A World Made Anew Part II

Chapter One - The Old Master

“Welcome Master Jinn,” Mace Windu said as the doors to the Council chamber opened. Qui-Gon Jinn walked into what had become a familiar sight. The only way Qui-Gon could have spent more time in the Council chamber was if he had been placed on the Council. Once this had been denied him because of his refusal to follow all the details of the Jedi Code. Now it was because he had been given a task of greater long term importance to the well-being of the Jedi than would have been available to him on the Council. Qui-Gon had agreed with the Council that nothing could be allowed to distract him from the training of young Skywalker, not after the events on Naboo.

“Thank you Masters,” Qui-Gon said. “I had not thought to be called so early.”

“We have moved your report to the beginning of the session,” Ki-Adi Mundi said. “It seemed advisable after the events in the sparring room.”

“I thought that might be the reason for the urgency. Still I would have assumed the political situation would be a higher priority,” Qui-Gon said.

“The Chancellor assures us that his negotiations with Count Dooku will succeed,” Kit Fisto replied. “Such matters are not in the jurisdiction of the Jedi Order.”

“Unless the negotiations should fail,” Qui-Gon said.

“Faith in the reasonableness of your former Master you lack?” Yoda asked.

“I have found his behavior these last few years puzzling Masters, that I do not deny. But I meant more to express doubts in the Chancellor,” Qui-Gon said.

“You question his abilities as a negotiator?” Windu asked, one eyebrow raised in mild curiosity.

“No…I question his intentions,” Qui-Gon said.

“Has he made further attempts to contact your Padawan since your last report?” Windu replied as he shifted forward in his chair, suddenly more interested.

“No Master Windu, but neither has anything he has done allayed the suspicions I have shared with you,” Qui-Gon said.

“Very well, let us hear your report. I too would like to know precisely what happened in the sparring room,” Windu said.

“That, I think, has been overblown. Injuries are not unheard of in sparring, even with all the safety precautions, and Aayla Secura will, I am told, make a full recovery,” Qui-Gon said.

“Why was he dueling three fellow Padawans, all of them older than him, at once?” Plo Koon asked.

“Anakin’s saber skills have progressed to the point where sparring with a single Padawan as an opponent is no longer instructive for him. I gave him permission to spar with multiple opponents at once,” Qui-Gon said.

“You thought it wise to send a nineteen year old, who by your own admission is years away from being ready for the trials, against three Padawans in their twenties who are about to take theirs?” Windu asked, his disapproval clear from his tone.

Qui-Gon considered his answer for a moment and replied, “Ten years ago this Council charged me to make sure this boy would become what the prophecies foretold. I have tried to achieve that goal in every way I know how. This is one.”

“Combat you think central to the task of the Chosen One?” Yoda asked.

“I think being able to maintain self-control when facing difficult situations will be. There are only a handful of Jedi in the Order capable of providing Anakin any difficulty in a sparring session, and all but one of them is on this Council. I can no longer do so, and certainly no single Padawan can,” Qui-Gon said.

“You speak as if this is a burden placed upon you, as though it was not you who convinced us of this boy’s destiny,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“It was not I that convinced you, if you recall,” Qui-Gon said. This reminder of the mysterious event on Naboo never sat well with the members of the Council. Qui-Gon was aware there were still members of the Council who did not believe it had happened at all, and that Qui-Gon had invented it in order to convince the Council to go along with his training of Skywalker. Some, perhaps, thought he did it in order to give himself more influence in the Order, suspicions that would have only increased after his Master left the Order and began amassing political power.

“Have there been any further communications of that sort?” Plo Koon asked.

“I would not wait to be summoned to report something like that Master,” Qui-Gon said. “No, I have received no such messages in eight years.”

“Getting back to the matter at hand, surely you must admit, Qui-Gon, that your Padawan did not deal well with the pressures of his sparring session, and that he did lose control,” Yaddle said. Qui-Gon turned to speak to her, remarking once again in his head how strange it was that she did not share Yoda’s odd speech pattern.

“Yes, Master Yaddle, and while I can no longer provide him any meaningful instruction in combat, the events of yesterday have given us much to work on together,” Qui-Gon said. “This is how we learn, by failing and finding out where our weaknesses are.”

“Has Skywalker himself reported any of the…,” Master Windu started to say before pausing to consider his choice of words, “...messages that you have received?”

“No, and he has never changed his answer that he was unaware of playing any role in the message I received on Naboo,” Qui-Gon said.

“Still confident you are, that played a role he did?” Yoda asked.

“Yes Master. Time dulls many memories, but that one remains crisp and fresh in my mind. There were two voices, one Anakin’s and one a woman’s. They spoke the same words, at the same time. The woman’s voice was the stronger of the two, but Anakin’s was there,” Qui-Gon said.

“And happy we all are that you received this message,” Yaddle said. Qui-Gon could detect the subtext. The Sith who had attacked him and Obi-Wan would have been a very valuable prisoner if the two of them had managed to take him alive. That had been on Qui-Gon’s mind as he and Obi-Wan had waited for the reactor force field to open, but the Zabrak had moved too fast, and his attacks had been too powerful for such plans. Even with Obi-Wan by his side, Qui-Gon had almost met his end that day. It had been from his back, lying injured on the floor that he had witnessed Obi-Wan’s victory over their enemy. Such had ended the apprenticeship of Obi-Wan Kenobi, simultaneously beginning his already illustrious Knighthood. But subduing an enemy that powerful by himself while holding back to avoid killing him was, all recognized, more than could have been fairly asked of Obi-Wan. That battle had marked the beginning of the two great mysteries that had absorbed the attention of the Council in the decade since. The first mystery, known to all the public, was how the Sith had reappeared and whether other Sith remained at large. The second, known only to the Council, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin, was the source of the message which had caused Qui-Gon to hold back that day. At the time Qui-Gon had thought he had the upper hand in their fight, that the Sith was retreating before Qui-Gon’s greater skill and power. Now, in retrospect, he realized the Sith had spent the entire fight trying to keep Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as separated as possible, and his retreat into the reactor chamber was a ruse meant to lure Qui-Gon into a situation where he would not have the help of his Padawan. It had been only the combined voices, telling him to wait, that had stopped him in his tracks and allowed Obi-Wan to catch up to him. There would always be those, however, who blamed Qui-Gon for failing to capture the Sith, and thus creating the first of the two great mysteries. 

“Thank you Master Yaddle,” Qui-Gon said. “I wish only that we might have captured the attacker and learned of his origin.”

“We will uncover the truth about that matter,” Mace Windu said. “For now you should concern yourself with your Padawan. The outburst in the sparring room is worrisome, but all reports say that he is progressing very well in his studies and training. For that, this Council wishes to commend you.”

Qui-Gon, taking this commendation as a hint that his presentation was over, bowed and made to leave. As he turned he heard Yoda say, “Master Qui-Gon, somewhere to be have you?”

“I thought you would be moving on to other business Master,” Qui-Gon said as he turned his head back to the Council. Seeing an inviting expression from Yoda, Qui-Gon moved back towards the center of the circle.

“Good news for you we have,” Yoda said. “An old friend returned to Coruscant has.”

“I do not take your meaning Master,” Qui-Gonn said.

“Senator Padme Amidala has returned from her diplomatic mission. She has requested a meeting with us,” Mace Windu said.

A worried look crossed Qui-Gon’s face before he said, “I hope that she has met with success.”

Windu considered Qui-Gon for a moment before replying, “That is unclear, but she asked for you to be present at the meeting.”

“Me? Why?” Qui-Gon asked.

“She did not say. Perhaps it is the relationship you two have,” Plo Koon said.

“I have seen her only a handful of times since the events on Naboo. I have fond memories of her, but I would not say we have much of a relationship,” Qui-Gon said.

“There is of course your relationship with Dooku,” Mace Windu said. “Perhaps she seeks insight about him.”

“I would be happy to provide any information that would be helpful to her in her mission to seek peace,” Qui-Gon said.

“Worried about this meeting, are you?” Yoda asked.

“No Master, I have no worries about going to this meeting,” Qui-Gon said.

“She has asked for another Jedi to be present as well, your old Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Mace Windu said.

Qui-Gon’s obvious look of perplexity caused Windu to continue, “It was because she asked for both of you that we suspected it was your personal past with her that perhaps motivated the request.”

“Did she ask for Anakin?” Qui-Gon asked.

“No, she did not,” Plo Koon said.

“Do you wish him present?” Windu asked.

“No!” Qui-Gond said, more sharply and louder than he had intended, a slip that was not missed by the Masters of the Council.

“The meeting will be held tomorrow. She arrives in the morning. You will be in the Temple, I presume,” Windu said.

“Yes, of course Master,” Qui-Gon said as he bowed. “Is that all?”

“It is,” Windu said as he bowed his head slightly in return.

Qui-Gon left the Council room full of doubts, anxious to get back to his quarters. He needed time to meditate before he spoke to his Padawan.

Anakin Skywalker had spent most of the day wandering alone in the gardens of the Temple. The other Padawans and Knights who saw him did their best not to make eye contact with him. A few changed direction in order to give him a wide berth. Anakin tried to not let it bother him. He understood their reactions. He had, after all, just put three fellow Padawans in the infirmary. That he had not meant to do it almost made things worse. If he lacked the self-control to prevent himself from using the Force in such violent ways then he was a danger. But Anakin could not help but be frustrated. On days like this he found his power a burden, for no one but Master Jinn seemed to understand that self-control was harder for him than others, because what would be a minor slip for most other Jedi was, for him, a potentially deadly mistake.

He had eventually found himself in front of Qui-Gon’s favorite tree. He had spent the better part of an hour sitting beneath its branches, trying to center himself, to find the peaceful center of his mind that Qui-Gon always told him to search for in times of need. But peace eluded him, as it so often had the past few weeks, for reasons he had not yet told his Master. So Anakin made his way back to his room, only to find Qui-Gon waiting for him.

“Hello Anakin,” his Master said softly.

“I guess I have to talk about the sparring session now,” Anakin said glumly as he opened the door.

“Yes, you do,” Qui-Gon said while walking in and taking a seat across from Anakin’s bed.

Anakin took the hint to sit down as well, and dropped onto his bed so he could look at his Master.

“Are they ok?” Anakin asked, trying to get what he considered to be the central point into the conversation quickly.

“They will all recover. Two of them have already left the infirmary,” Qui-Gon said. “But that is not the issue.”

“I know, I know,” Anakin said impatiently.

Qui-Gon did not respond at first, stretching the awkward silence out for several seconds before saying, “I think you need to use our breathing exercise Anakin. We have important matters to discuss, and you are caught in a spiral of negativity.”

Anakin recognized the truth in his Master’s words and followed his advice. A few minutes of silence elapsed as the two sat facing each other but with their eyes shut, Anakin quieting the conflict in his mind, Qui-Gon attending to his Padawan’s breathing. When the sounds of steady respiration signalled the calm within, Qui-Gon asked, “What was the cause of the events in the sparring chamber?”

“They were more aggressive than I expected, more aggressive than they should have been in a sparring session…,” Anakin started to say, his complaints disrupting his sense of calm.

“Was it anger, or was it fear?” Qui-Gon interrupted gently.

“It was…not fear,” Anakin said reluctantly.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow suspiciously and asked, “Why were you angry?”

“They were only attacking me so hard out of jealousy, and a desire to show me up,” Anakin said.

“You accuse them of much. I wonder what kind of evidence could make you slander your fellow students to this degree?” Qui-Gon said.

“They are barely students. I was essentially fighting three Jedi Knights!” Anakin insisted agitatedly. When Qui-Gon did not rise to this bait, Anakin thought for a moment about his question and said, “What else could it have been, if not jealousy and ambition?”

“We often see in others the failures we find in ourselves, or fear to find in ourselves. When things do not go as we wish, we find someone to blame, and the first thought that comes to mind to explain what they have done is the kind of thought that intrudes on our own thinking, that tempts us towards what we know to be wrong,” Qui-Gon said.

“You think I am jealous of them?” Anakin asked incredulously.

“Yes, I think you envy the normal apprenticeship they have all had, an apprenticeship unmarred by prophecies and mysteries. But that is not the deepest issue here,” Qui-Gon answered.

Anakin could not help but recognize the truth in Qui-Gon’s assertion. He turned the thought over in his mind and could remember feeling excluded from the company of his fellow Padawans. He had never been a youngling, had always been a Padawan watched over not just by his Master but also by the Council. But his deepest jealousy had been the one he was most ashamed of. None of the other Padawans could remember their parents, could not miss them or friends back home, for the Temple was their home and the Order was their mother and father. But Anakin had a mother, a mother who he knew loved him, and who was on his mind more and more in recent weeks.

“What is the deepest issue here?” Anakin asked.

“As much as you struggle against the expectations the prophecy has generated, you have always sought to prove yourself worthy of them, to excel, to progress faster, to be stronger not just than your fellow Padawans, but all the Padawans who came before. None of them was the Chosen One, so you must be better than them if you are the Chosen One. And you must be the Chosen One, for only that could make up for all that you lost, all that you had to leave behind,” Qui-Gon said.

Anakin made no sign of agreement or disagreement for almost a minute. Finally he said, “Perhaps it was fear and anger, Master.”

Qui-Gon stood up and said, “It is only once we know the sources of our mistakes and address them that we can avoid making them again.”

Anakin nodded and looked out the narrow window of his room onto the Coruscant skyline. “I will do better,” he said.

“I know. I suspect you will soon have opportunities to do so,” Qui-Gon replied.

“Do we have a mission?” Anakin asked hopefully. He wanted out of the Temple, away from the worried and accusatory eyes.

“We may. Events are in motion. Obi-Wan is returning to Coruscant,” Qui-Gon said.

Anakin’s eyes lit up at the news that his friend would once again be with them in the Temple. Qui-Gon smiled at seeing it and said, “Now you won’t need to spar against multiple opponents.”

Anakin grinned and replied, “We don’t know that. I have made some progress since the last time he was here.”

“When I recall he disarmed you every time,” Qui-Gon said with a chuckle.

Anakin laughed along with his master, and for a second all was joyful. But Anakin noticed the shadow pass over Qui-Gon’s eyes and laughter came to an end. “What is it, Master?” he asked.

“He is coming because his presence, along with mine, was requested…by Senator Amidala,” Qui-Gon said.

While the news of Obi-Wan’s imminent arrival had brought light to Anakin’s face, mention of Padme Amidala brought heat to his cheeks and an obvious uncertainty to his expression.

“I know how you struggle with this Anakin,” Qui-Gon said. “And it is to be expected. She was there to comfort you in a difficult time. But I need you to remember the importance of self-control. If this meeting becomes something more involved, I would like to have you with me, and I want to be able to count on you.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. “You can count on me.”

“Take the evening to think on this, to meditate on it. You will not be going to the meeting tomorrow, but it is possible you will see her,” Qui-Gon said as he put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I know it will be difficult, but I also know you can do it.”

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said, trying to believe Qui-Gon’s faith in him was not misplaced.

Chapter Text

Chapter II

The Senator

“Obi-Wan, what is happening?” Qui-Gon said into the communicator, refraining with great effort from shouting because of Anakin’s presence. From the communicator he could hear the shouting and sirens that followed the kind of large explosion that had preceded his anxious question.

After a few nerve wracking seconds he heard Obi-Wan’s voice saying, “The Senator’s ship exploded after it landed. A bomb on the ship, maybe on the landing platform. I don’t know.”

“Is the Senator alright?” Anakin yelled.

“Anakin, please…,” Qui-Gon started to say before Obi-Wan responded.

“I think so,” he said. “I am not sure she was actually on the ship.”

“She isn’t there?” Qui-Gon asked with surprise.

“No, she is here, she is just dressed as one of her security squad,” Obi-Wan answered.

“Get her out of there,” Qui-Gon commanded. “If this was an assassination attempt the assassin might still be there.”

“Good point,” Obi-Wan said. “I will get her to the Temple!”

After hearing the channel close, Qui-Gon turned to Anakin and said, “Be mindful Anakin. We spoke about this. You cannot control how you feel, but you can control how those feelings manifest themselves.”

“I’m sorry Master, but I…I just want to know that she is safe,” Anakin said. 

“I will head to the hangar bay now, and I will send word when I know she is safe. For now you stay here,” Qui-Gon said.

Anakin, clearly still very agitated and distressed, did not appear to Qui-Gon to at all like this command. But he closed his eyes and nodded. Qui-Gon placed a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed before leaving his quarters. Anakin had arrived early that morning, no doubt hoping he could change Qui-Gon’s mind about bringing him along. But Qui-Gon was as implacable as ever on that issue.

Qui-Gon was making his way with all haste to the Temple hangar when he received a message from Master Windu telling him that the Senator and Obi-Wan had been redirected to Palpatine’s office in the Senate building. Qui-Gon shook his head at this, wondering why Obi-Wan had permitted it to happen, but continued on his way to the hangar, now to grab a shuttle to the Senate rather than to meet his former Padawan. While in the elevator going down he realized that Obi-Wan almost certainly had been ordered to go to the Senate building by more senior Jedi, and that this would have been done without anyone checking with him. After all, Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight in his own right, and he took orders from the Council, not from Qui-Gon. It was hard sometimes for him to remember that. Obi-Wan was old and well-established enough now that he ought to have had a Padawan of his own, but the man who had quickly become the Council’s first choice for any potentially dangerous investigative mission had not found the time. Or so he always said when Qui-Gon brought up the topic. Qui-Gon suspected part of the reason was really that Obi-Wan had always felt some responsibility to participate in Anakin’s training.

Qui-Gon looked out the front windshield of the shuttle as they approached the Senate building. He remembered how grand the giant hall had appeared to him as a child growing up in the Temple. His head had been filled with the stories of the heroic statesmen who had led the Republic through its growth and subsequent trials. He used to watch re-enactments of the great debates and speeches of Republican history, his heart swelling with pride at being a future defender of her greatness, and his mind disciplined by the solemn responsibility that entailed. As a Youngling he had felt the echo of such sentiments whenever he looked out a window at the Senate. Only after becoming Master Dooku’s apprentice has his eyes been opened to what the Senate had become, to what it had, perhaps, always been. Now when he looked at it he was reminded of the great hives of flying pollinating insects found on most temperate worlds; the difference being that those insects played a vital role in the propagation of life. The Senate was filled with liars and thieves, crawling over each other like insects for their chance at a bigger piece of the power and riches the Republic sucked into Coruscant. He had, as a Padawan, never found himself thinking in these extreme ways, despite the pressure from his Master towards such cynicism. 

But in the years since the Naboo crisis the corruption had become more and more blatant, while the pleasant sounding Chancellor from Naboo had seemed to grow more and more impotent in the face of it. And there was, of course, that last message from the voice from beyond, the message he had never spoken of to anyone but Obi-Wan. It had come when he was standing next to Obi-Wan, with young Anakin one step in front of him, all three of them watching the then Queen hand the Globe of Peace to Boss Nass, that he had felt the sense of disquiet. The newly appointed Chancellor Palpatine had been on the other side of Amidala from the Jedi, and out of the corner of his eye Qui-Gon caught the politician looking at Anakin out of the corner of his. Turning his attention towards the Chancellor and his bright smile, his unease had grown. In what had sounded in his mind like a whisper, he heard the voice which had warned him to not chase Maul say, “Liar.”

He had not told the Council then, for reasons he was not himself sure of at the time. After all, it was not exactly news to find out that a prominent politician was a liar. How else could he have become and remained a prominent politician? Even those with noble intentions had to lie from time to time, just to protect themselves against the lies of their rivals. But of course it was not normally a manifestation of the will of the Force itself that told you someone was dishonest, and Qui-Gon felt certain that is what the voice was. He had hesitated to relay the information to the Council. He had told himself that he was not as sure of the second message as the first, that perhaps he was imagining things. He had told himself that Palpatine’s political position would make Jedi antipathy for him so debilitating for the Order that the other Masters would resent it, and come to question everything Qui-Gon had told them. And of course how much harm could one politician do, he remembered asking himself. Back then it had seemed almost certain that Palpatine’s reign would not last longer than the sympathy the Naboo crisis had engendered. What was the point of stirring the pot?

But then Palpatine became more and more entrenched, and his ties to the Jedi grew and grew. He had cultivated friendships with several Masters on the Council, and always his ideas came back to finding a role for Anakin. Qui-Gon might not have noticed it if the voice had not raised his general suspicions, but the Chancellor’s interest in Anakin went far beyond what was reasonable given Palpatine’s explanation that he was simply grateful for the salvation of his world.

Qui-Gon’s ruminations took up the entire short trip to the Senate. He made his way up to the Chancellor’s office to find Senator Amidala, Obi-Wan, and most of the Council already present and in the midst of discussing the assassination attempt.

“I will not allow one unfortunate attempt, no doubt arising from some crazed extremist, to undermine my negotiations,” Palpatine was saying as Qui-Gon entered. The Jedi Master looked to his left at Obi-Wan, who was leaning against the wall directing a very suspicious look the Chancellor’s way. The more diplomatic Mace Windu and Yoda were sitting across from Palpatine at his desk, with Amidala seated between them.

“We cannot ignore what has happened though,” Mace Windu said.

“No, of course not. There must be increased security for the Senator,” Palpatine said.

“The Jedi can provide protection for Senator Amidala,” Windu replied.

Palpatine opened his mouth to speak when Padme cut him off, “Thank you for the offer of security, Master Windu, but I would like to go back to the idea that this was some crazy extremist. I don’t think so. My security team and I saw this coming because of what we encountered on our mission to Raxus Secundus. While there are elements of the Separatists interested in a negotiated settlement, there are also those who have their minds set on war. Chief among them is the person I think is responsible for this attempt on my life, Count Dooku.”

This comment drew an immediate reaction from several people in the room. Mace Windu’s back stiffened, while Yoda made a long sigh. Obi-Wan turned towards Qui-Gon with a raised eyebrow, curious to see his Master’s reaction. Qui-Gon crossed his arms but said nothing.

“This would be a horrible turn of events if true, my lady,” Palpatine said, his expression grave.

“Count Dooku is prone to somewhat…extreme presentations of his views. Of this I am personally very aware,” Mace Windu said as he turned to look at Senator Amidala. “But for all his vituperativeness, he is still just a political idealist, not a killer. May I remind the Senator that he is a former Jedi Master.”

“I fail to see how someone leaving your order means they cannot be a killer,” Amidala responded. “He is arguing for secession every day, and he knows that if he is successful, the result will be war. He is willing to put the lives of millions at risk for his so-called political ideals. What possible reason would he have to balk at arranging my death, when he knows whole systems will be drowned in blood on his plan.”

“There is a difference between wanting to break away from the Republic and wanting war. War is not inevitable if they break away,” said Ki-Adi Mundi.

“I am sorry Master Jedi, but if negotiations to keep them in the Republic break down, I don’t see how war can be avoided. I keep track of the votes in the Senate, and there is already a strong majority in favor of war should we not reach a negotiated resolution of this dispute,” Palpatine said.

“None of this is evidence of Count Dooku’s guilt,” Mace Windu insisted.

“More proof we need before coming to your conclusion we can,” Yoda said to Amidala gently.

“Master Jinn,” Palpatine said with a smile. “You know Count Dooku better than anyone, except perhaps Master Yoda here. What do you think of this accusation?”

Qui-Gon did not answer right away, as he was working through his own complicated thoughts on the topic. He was staring at the carpet for long enough that Obi-Wan said, as gently as he could, “Master? Are you alright?”

“No, Obi-Wan. I fear none of us are. Masters, Senator,…Chancellor, I can provide you no solace here. When I was his Padawan I saw my Master sometimes pushed by his sense of justice to actions that I could not support. He is capable of violence when provoked. And that was many years ago. What he is capable of now, in the face of obvious Senatorial corruption, I cannot be sure,” Qui-Gon said while sending a pointed look at the sour looking Palpatine.

“I would be the last to contend that the Senate is without corruption. After all, my own election was the result of a movement against just that kind of corruption. Corruption stemming from the corporate interests such as the Trade Federation, the Banking Guild, and others who have found their way into Count Dooku’s orbit. I will not take lectures from him about good governance when he has allied himself with the worst offenders,” Palpatine said haughtily. “But for all Master Jinn’s sympathy with his Master, I believe what he has said is enough of a reason to take Senator Amidala’s worry seriously.”

“You just said it was likely a crazed extremist,” Obi-Wan objected.

“And so it would be. What is Dooku if not an extremist, and he has quite taken leave of his senses if he thinks assassinating Senator Amidala will do anything to help his position. She is the leader of the peace caucus in the Senate. If word gets out that Dooku has made an attempt on her life, war is certain, with or without secession by the Separatists,” Palpatine said. “If you want peace Masters, I recommend building a wall of Jedi around the Senator, to make certain that no future attempts are successful.”

“We must also investigate the attempt that has already happened,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“Republic intelligence and Coruscant security services are already taking care of that,” Palpatine said with an airy wave of his hand.

“If a former Jedi is potentially involved, that gives the Order jurisdiction over this matter,” Mace Windu said firmly. “We are happy to cooperate with those already on the job, but we must know the truth. If the Count has truly fallen so far, then the galaxy is in grave danger. He is one of the most powerful Jedi of his generation.”

“Well surely some Jedi of more recent generations would be able, with the vigor of youth, to stand up to him. I imagine Master Jinn’s Padawan…what was his name, Skywalker? From what I have heard he has progressed admirably. Perhaps he could be involved in the protection of the Senator,” Palpatine said with a smile and obsequious tone.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both narrowed their eyes at the same time, not bothering to conceal their mistrust of the Chancellor. This fact did not escape the members of the Council, who in turn struggled to hide their disapproval of the two Jedis’ behavior. 

“We will give the Senator the best protection we can, as well as find the assassin and determine who sent them,” Mace Windu said as he stood up in a sign that he considered the meeting ended.

“Well I look forward to what your investigators discover,” Palpatine said as he also stood. Only Senator Amidala remained seated, shaking her head.

“Something amiss there is, Senator Amidala?” Yoda asked.

“Yes, the complacency of everyone here. We are on the edge, and I am not saying this just because I was the target today. When a dispute like this moves to the point where actions like this are even contemplated, much less attempted, it means one side has grown desperate. And you are all facing their desperation with a confidence and calm that is…worrisome,” Amidala said.

“It is not the Jedi way to express strong emotions, my dear,” Palpatine said sweetly. “Believe me, you will become used to it. You might even come to appreciate it, or so I have been told.”

The Senator nodded towards the Chancellor as she stood up. She turned to face Master Windu and said, “I place myself in your care, Master Jedi.”

Windu bowed and then turned to Qui-Gon. For a split second Qui-Gon could tell what was about to happen, but was too slow to stop Windu from saying, “I believe it best for Master Jinn to provide your protection. He is among our most powerful Masters, and as the Chancellor said his Padawan learner is already stronger than most of our Knights. No other pair could provide better protection, and you are already familiar with them.”

“Little Ani is some powerful Jedi now?” Amidala asked, a friendly smile breaking through the worried expression she had been wearing throughout the meeting. It was a smile without any trace of guile, but such a sign of ill-intent would have frightened Qui-Gon less.

“Master Windu, perhaps we might discuss…,” Qui-Gon began to say before being cut off by Windu.

“And his former Padawan, Jedi Knight Kenobi, is the most celebrated Jedi of his generation, already very experienced in just the kind of investigation that is needed to determine the identity of your attacker. I am sure he will find working with his former Master most agreeable. Is that not so Obi-Wan?” Windu asked.

“Well…yes, of course Master,” Obi-Wan said, aware of what worried Qui-Gon but not feeling it was his place to contradict or debate a Master with the stature of Mace Windu.

A firm look from Windu to both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan quieted them as the Jedi filed out of the room. They walked in silence through the Senate building until they reached the Hangar.

“Have someone bring the ships of Master Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi to the Jedi Temple, they will be travelling back with us,” Mace Windu said to one of the Republic officers. The assembled Jedi loaded into a large shuttle, and took their seats as the doors closed.

“Worries you have, Master Qui-Gon?” Yoda asked once the Jedi were alone.

“I do not believe Anakin and I are the right Jedi for this protection duty,” Qui-Gon said.

“We grasped as much,” Mace Windu said with some sarcasm.

“My apologies Master,” Qui-Gon said somewhat stiffly.

Windu sighed and said, “Forgive me Qui-Gon. The tensions of the last few months have been growing on me along with everyone else in the Republic, and I want the Jedi to present a calm and united face to the people. Especially in a meeting with the Chancellor. But we may speak freely now. What are your objections?”

Qui-Gon took a moment to collect his thoughts, looking out the window as the shuttle rose from the platform and made its way into the busy Coruscant sky. “Our worry about Anakin has always been the attachments he formed in his years before joining the Order,” he said at last.

“Our chief worry,” Mace Windu corrected. “Not the only worry.”

Qui-Gon nodded, unwilling to take the bait and turn the conversation towards Windu’s suspicions of his Padawan’s abilities of self-control and his worries about the extent of the boy’s powers. “We have focused on his attachments to his mother, to the friends he left behind, and more broadly to those he might perceive as having been part of his social class, slaves, outcasts, the poor.”

“Not so terrible, concern for those last groups, I think,” Yoda said.

“Of course, Master. But I have long held another worry, and Senator Amidala figures most strongly in it. Anakin grew up as ordinary children grow up, thinking of a future like theirs, a future that would have had a partner, a family, all the things that Jedi are forbidden,” Qui-Gon said.

“And he met Senator Amidala before he became a Jedi,” Mace Windu said, nodding.

“Yes. He has not been deceptive or withholding about this, I am proud to say. His thoughts still turn to her often. I worry what proximity to her will cause,” Qui-Gon said.

“It is a real issue,” Ki-Adi Mundi said, “but I wonder whether there are any others on Coruscant better able to protect the Senator, save for those of us on the Council. The three of you work together well, and are all quite capable.”

“If Skywalker can overcome this infatuation then our worries will be allayed, and if he cannot then they will be confirmed. There are no more tests for the young man to pass when it comes to his ability to use the Force. What we require is exactly the kind of knowledge this experience will give us, and what he needs is precisely the self-mastery that this experience will hopefully give him. In the end, the Prophecy and whether Anakin Skywalker is who it foretold is more important to the Order than the protection of a single Senator,” Mace Windu said.

Qui-Gon, who was shocked by this answer, had nothing to say in response. This left it to Obi-Wan to say, “Perhaps Anakin can join me on the investigative side of this mission, and leave the protection to Master Qui-Gon.”

“I leave it to Master Jinn to decide such matters. I will recall some Jedi to the Temple in case this worry about Skywalker proves correct and we need to form a new protection detail. But it will likely be a few days before they arrive,” Mace Windu said.

“Not always merely a test of character such episodes are. If maintain his self-control Skywalker does, a stronger Jedi he will be,” Yoda said.

“Yes Master, of course,” Qui-Gon said, unwilling to debate the assembled Masters on the point, but his heart was nonetheless full of trepidation.

Chapter Text

AWMA Part II Chapter III

Assassin

“Stop smirking,” Anakin said to Obi-Wan as the elevator lurched upward.

“Am I smirking?” Obi-Wan said in mock surprise.

“You’re my friend, and this is going to be really tough for me, and you are absolutely smirking,” Anakin said nervously. His hands went to his robes, smoothing them out for the third time since he and Obi-Wan had left the shuttle at the building's base. Or rather its open air base. The building itself went hundreds of floors down into the darkness, though there was no elevator shaft or stairwell that led from the swanky upper levels of the building with windows that let in sunshine and starlight to the lower levels.

“I am your friend Anakin, and who has not taken a small amount of joy in seeing their friend completely discombobulated?” Obi-Wan asked. “Though of course I cannot understand why you are so affected. I did not know you were such a keen follower of politics.”

“Politics?” Anakin asked.

“Well,” Obi-Wan paused and let his smirk morph into a full grin, “what other reason would you have to be so nervous about this meeting?”

Anakin gave Obi-Wan a disapproving look out of the side of his eyes and shook his head. “Politics. Sure.”

“Oh don’t be so embarrassed. I am sure you are not the first man to fall head over heels for Senator Amidala…though perhaps you were the youngest to do so,” Obi-Wan said as he struggled to contain a laugh.

The tiny, high pitched giggle that emerged as a result of his struggles made it impossible for Anakin to keep a straight face. And so it was that the two of them emerged from the elevator chuckling. What they saw was Qui-Gon speaking with Senator Amidala and her security team. The contrast between their grim faces and the laughter of the two young Jedi emerging drew a disapproving look from Qui-Gon and two swift attempts on the part of Anakin and Obi-Wan to stifle their laughter.

The two walked towards their Master and bowed to the Senator.

“Senator Amidala, it has been too long,” Obi-Wan said. He looked over at Anakin who opened his mouth to speak and seemed surprised as anyone that no sound came out.

Padme waited to give Anakin a chance to successfully utter a word and when it became clear to her that he would not, she said, “You are right Obi-Wan, and I have missed you. I wish it was under happier circumstances that we were reunited. And this can’t be little Ani can it?”

Anakin smiled awkwardly and said, “Yes, I have grown a bit.”

“I hardly recognized you,” Amidala said, smiling confidently and kindly back at him.

“You look exactly the same,” Anakin said, with doe eyes beaming.

“Well I hope I don’t look 14 anymore. It would make my job as a Senator much more difficult,” she said with a smile.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I meant, you look just as beautiful as before,” Anakin said.

Everyone in the room turned to look at Anakin, if they were not looking already, and most wore shocked expressions. Obi-Wan still seemed somewhat amused by the whole situation, while Padme appeared embarrassed, her head of security somewhat indignant, and Qui-Gon very, very frustrated.

“Anakin,” Qui-Gon said sharply.

“Yes Master?” Anakin said, aware of his blunder.

“Go inspect and evaluate the transportation options at the Senator’s disposal. If we need to leave in a hurry I want to be prepared. And when that is done I want you to take a turn patrolling the building,” Qui-Gon said.

“Of course Master. My apologies Senator,” Anakin said, bowing to Padme.

Padme smiled graciously and said, “No apology is necessary Anakin. Who doesn’t appreciate hearing of their beauty?”

Anakin blushed slightly as he turned on his heel and made for the elevator. As he did so Obi-Wan walked over to where Qui-Gon was standing.

“I hope very much you are not encouraging this,” Qui-Gon said as the Senator spoke to her security forces about the precautions taken to protect her family back on Naboo.

“I think you are overreacting, Master. How many Padawans have had a teenage crush?” Obi-Wan replied.

“None with Anakin’s abilities,” Qui-Gon said softly. “None with such potential for greatness, or danger.”

In the garage Anakin spent more time pouring over the brief conversation with Padme in his mind than he did inspecting the cars. Out of frustration with himself, he kicked a crumpled up bit of paper that had somehow found its way into the garage from some passerby littering high above. Why had he told her she was beautiful? That wasn’t how you talked to people. He had told himself to be cool and composed, both to impress Padme and to avoid Master Qui-Gon’s disappointment, only to lose control the moment he saw her. He looked over to where he had kicked the wad of paper and noticed it had not gone far, at least not as far as he had meant it to. He reached out with the Force to grab hold of it and tightened his grip. The ball of paper shrank accordingly, collapsing in on itself until it was no larger than a pebble. Anakin walked over to it and picked it up. It felt slightly warm to the touch. He had compressed it so quickly and so tightly that it no longer felt like paper. He threw the paper pebble out into the Coruscant sky. For a moment he worried about it picking up speed and injuring someone far below, then he remembered the physics lessons from his younger days in the Temple. He also remembered that in this area of Coruscant no one walked to get anywhere.

He got to inspecting the cars and didn’t find anything strictly speaking amiss, though they were all a bit underpowered for his liking. He was also worried that they wouldn’t handle well, though he couldn’t imagine a circumstance that would require him to really push these vehicles to their limits. The approach his Master appeared to be taking, that of staying close to the Senator to protect her from attack, did not sit well with Anakin. When in doubt he almost always chose the more assertive action. Better to keep your enemy off balance with bold movements than to let them plan and prepare an attack you could only hope to be ready to defend against. But this general strategic approach seemed less important to him now that his Master’s plan involved spending more time around Padme. Or at least it would have done so had Anakin not embarrassed himself and gotten exiled to the garage. 

Well, he thought to himself, there was nothing to do now but make sure the vehicles were in proper shape so that if needed they would respond properly. If the following morning the Senator had any problems with these cars, it would be obvious to everyone that Anakin had simply gone down there and sulked. So he set about his work, finding little to complain about with the vehicles. They were kept in good condition, though he did find a few ways to soup them up. He was good with machines. They made more sense to him than Senators, or his own feelings.

Later that evening Anakin was back up in the apartment, speaking with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as the Senator completed her tasks for the day. Qui-Gon wanted to have a last word with her before she prepared for sleep and the three of them had started a conversation about the bombing while they waited.

“The authorities on Naboo have said there is no way to determine who set the bomb on the ship, or even if it was placed there on Naboo,” Obi-Wan said.

“How would it have been set anywhere else?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Someone who knew what they were doing could pilot a remote to place the bomb while her ship was descending through the Coruscant atmosphere. They would have had so many ships on their scanners they might not have noticed a small drone flying up behind them,” Anakin suggested.

“Perhaps, but then why wait until the ship landed to detonate?” Qui-Gon asked.

“It is still possible that the bomb was on the landing platform,” Obi-Wan said.

“And no one saw it?” Qui-Gon replied.

“What if it was in the platform?” Anakin asked.

Before anyone could answer Senator Amidala emerged from the study from which she had been forced to work that day. She looked exhausted.

“Can we help you with anything Senator?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I don’t know, you have a few dozen Senators in your pocket you could get to sponsor my legislation?” Padme asked playfully.

“Opposing the Military Creation Act?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan turned to him with a raised eyebrow and said, “This interest in galactic politics is certainly sudden.”

“I…I follow galactic politics,” Anakin said haltingly as his cheeks pinkened. 

“My apologies Anakin, I never knew,” Obi-Wan said, letting his smirk communicate the rest of his response.

“Everyone is talking about it!” Anakin said.

“You’re correct, Anakin,” Padme said as he began to remove her jewelry. The red deep enough for Anakin’s face to express the level of discomfort this caused did not exist. “It is the only issue that is going to matter this term. I don’t mind telling you that I think the fate of the Republic rests on it.”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, desperate to have something to say that would appear to her both informed and original, but no sound emerged for just then she removed the clip from her hair. Her brown tresses fell from the complex shape they had been held in, and cascaded down her neck, shoulders and back. With a tiny flick of her head, Padme cleared them from the front of her face. The three Jedi before her had three different expressions on their faces. Obi-Wan still wore a knowing smirk, though his eyebrows had shot up and his ears pulled back in surprise. Anakin looked like someone had punched him in the stomach, leaving him unable to speak or even breathe. Qui-Gon’s face, on the other hand, looked grim.

Padme was partly surprised by this. It was not that she had an effect at all. She knew the effect she had on men. It was not something she encouraged, it was just something that had been a part of her life since she was a child. It had disturbed her then. Thinking about the men leering at her 14 year old self disturbed her even now. She had appreciated the costumes and finery of being the Queen, as it hid her behind veils, makeup, absurd hairstyles and ceremony. People didn’t see her, they saw the Queen, and one did not leer at the Queen. As she entered adulthood she came to realize there was nothing that would keep their eyes off her but eventual and inevitable elderliness. No matter what she did men, and some women, would think while in her presence of all the ways she could fulfill their desires, their minds never fully on what she was saying or doing. But she was not willing to wait for age to make her an object of rational consideration as opposed to physical appreciation, so she resolved to use the effect she had on others to the best possible advantage. In the battle for the soul of the Republic it would have been unconscionable to lay down a tool so potentially potent. Otherwise scheming men could be turned into predictable tools with a quick glance from beneath long dark eyelashes, or a slight opening of the mouth. 

But amongst Jedi she had thought to be free of such gaze. And while Obi-Wan was not leering, he was certainly noticing. Anakin, who in her head was still a child, having such a reaction was unexpected, and in a way sad. Had he always looked at her that way? Even when he was a boy? Surely not. Certainly then she had been a sisterly figure. But there was no mistaking what he was feeling now, though any doubts would have been resolved by a moment’s thought about the reason for Qui-Gon’s displeasure.

“Well, it has been a long day,” she said, trying to move everyone beyond Anakin’s lovesick reaction. “It’s a good book and good sleep for me.”

“A moment if you please, Senator,” Qui-Gon said.

“Yes?” Padme said as she started to walk towards her bedroom.

“Your bedroom has a very large window. It is not secure,” Qui-Gon said.

“I have been assured it is reinforced. It would take a shot from a starship to break through it. The building will break before that glass does,” Padme said.

“Against a blaster bolt it is secure, yes. But against the right kind of cutting laser it is not,” Qui-Gon said.

“Tha…That’s true. The kind of lasers used in mining will cut through it. It will only take a few minutes,” Anakin said as he was the one who had pointed the possibility out to his Master after Qui-Gon set Anakin the task of reviewing the schematics for the apartment. He had meant just to give the boy something to do, something to keep his mind off the Senator.

“Well what do you suggest?” Padme said, already irked at where the conversation was heading.

“Either we have a guard in there with you while you sleep, or you sleep somewhere else,” Qui-Gon said.

“I am not going to be run out of my own apartment!” Padme shouted without meaning to. She took a second to compose herself after she saw Qui-Gon’s frown and then asked, “Where do you propose that I sleep? The Jedi Temple?”

“Your guest room,” Qui-Gon answered flatly.

“Oh, well…then I am sorry for yelling,” Padme said. 

Qui-Gon nodded gently and asked, “Which would you prefer?”

“Where would you all be if I slept in my guest room?” Padme asked.

“We would guard the rooms accessible from the outside. That way anyone attempting to get to you would first meet us,” Qui-Gon said.

“You aren’t sleeping?” Padme asked.

“In shifts we will,” Qui-Gon explained.

“My thanks for your diligence Master Jinn,” Padme said. “Perhaps it would be acceptable for me to prepare for bed in my bedroom without accompaniment.”

Qui-Gon looked unsure but decided that sending someone to join the Senator while she bathed and dressed for bed would be going too far in the pursuit of security. After she left, Obi-Wan came up from behind Qui-Gon and said, “I must confess I would not have thought of the window as a danger. We have always been told that the Senatorial apartments are secure against such threats.”

“It is secure against the threats we know of. It is the threats I cannot imagine that worry me,” Qui-Gon said. “The galaxy is a big place, and the criminals no doubt hired to kill the Senator spend all their time trying to find things in it that allow them to do their job. We cannot be complacent.”

“Do you think they might try to destroy the entire building?” Anakin asked.

“I do not know, but I do know there is nothing more we can do about that possibility. The building has been swept for bombs. The defense grid is there to stop any ship with enough firepower from getting close. We are here to prevent the more subtle forms of assassination. And I feel better if we are between the Senator and whatever might be coming from the outside,” Qui-Gon said.

“We are not between them now,” Anakin said.

“In a hurry to join the Senator in her dressing room?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin blushed bright red and as he searched for a response Qui-Gon chided Obi-Wan for the joke.

“I am sure the Senator can handle herself for a few…,” he said before trailing off, distracted from his reassuring words by the arrival of the worry they were untrue.

Anakin, whose thoughts were directed so much more strongly towards the room in which the Senator was preparing for bed, had sensed the threat first and his leap got him across the room before Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan even started to run. The door opened as Anakin landed in front of it and it took him only a moment to sense the intruders. A droid on the other side of a window that now had a large hole in it, and two armored wormlike creatures moving nearly silently towards Padme. Anakin turned quickly to his right and brandished his lightsaber. Padme, who was midway through preparing for sleep, was wearing only a light dressing robe and her first thought was only for her own modesty. As she pulled the dressing robe closed, Anakin quickly killed the two worms with a single sweep of his saber. Padme, who had not seen the creatures until they had each been cut in half, jumped backwards. After a second she was able to understand what had just happened, and gave Anakin a smile that left him temporarily completely defenseless.

This made the sound of Obi-Wan jumping through the window to grab the droid something of a surprise to them both. At the sound of the glass shattering Anakin turned towards the place the window had once been to see Obi-Wan hanging from the droid as it sped away. 

“Anakin, stay with the Senator! Keep her safe!” Qui-Gon shouted as he ran towards the exit on his way to the garage. 

“Yes, Master!” Anakin shouted back. He turned on his heel to see the still shocked Padme standing in her closet. The wind coming in through the window was blowing her hair into her face and making it difficult for her to keep her robe in place. This distracted Anakin to an extent that he was unable to speak for long enough that only Padme shrugging her shoulders got him to speak.

“We should move to another room,” was all he managed to say.

“I know that. Can you help me? Pick up my sleeping gown?” She looked down at her flimsy robe which she was keeping closed at two points, leaving her with no free hand to pick anything up.

“Yes, yes, of course. I will meet you in the guest room,” Anakin said, blushing once again.

A few awkward minutes of Anakin gathering what Padme needed later and the two of them were in the guest room, where Padme would be able to finish preparing for sleep, though she now doubted that she would be able to calm down enough to do so. As Anakin used the Force to levitate a mirror into the room he asked, “What do you need this for?”

“To wash my face. You shouldn’t go to bed with makeup on,” Padme explained as she sat down at the desk upon which Anakin was placing the mirror. She had in her hands a small box from which she started removing various supplies which had been kept in her bathroom.

“I don’t think you need to wear makeup,” Anakin said in a way that was both earnest and strained, as though the effort to say it had just barely won out against his inhibitions.

Padme looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. Accustomed as she was to receiving criticism for the way she presented herself, no matter what way that was, she initially interpreted his comment as an expression of prudishness. But when she looked up into his hopeful eyes she realized the intention behind the comment. This realization left her no more comfortable than before, but it did take away the feeling of offense.

“Do you think Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are going to be alright?” Padme asked, hoping to change the subject from her looks to anything else.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about Obi-Wan. He has been in all sorts of tough spots before. He knows what he is doing,” Anakin said, his pride in his friend managing to banish his feelings of embarrasment. 

“He was hanging from the bottom of a flying droid,” Padme said incredulously.

“He will be fine. And anyway, Master Qui-Gon will be with him soon. Together they are a formidable pair,” Anakin replied. “After all, they defeated the Sith Lord all those years ago.”

“Yes…,” Padme said while wiping her face. Her expression was thoughtful as she looked into the mirror. She looked away from the mirror towards Anakin to consider him for a moment before continuing. “I remember hearing things, during all the celebrations, about that fight. About how Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan won. Strange things whispered in corners, cryptic comments and knowing looks.”

Anakin set his jaw and said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” she said skeptically. “I don’t understand the Force, and I lack the Jedi’s abilities to see the future, to sense hidden things. But I know when men are afraid, and I know when they are desperate. In the days after the liberation of Naboo, the Jedi were afraid of you, Anakin. Even Obi-Wan was looking at you like you, a little boy, were terrifying. All of them but Qui-Gon. And it made me wonder. So I kept my ears open. It was my planet whose fate was decided after all. As a Queen and a Senator I had people who could find things out for me. And you know what they found Anakin?”

“I do not,” he said.

“Nothing. A few whispers in the days after, and then everything was locked down. The only story you could hear was that a Jedi Master and his promising young Padawan defeated a rogue Force user who was behind the attack on my world. End of the story. You know what it means when a story stops dead in its tracks like that?” Padme said before she wiped the lipstick off her lips.

What several minutes ago would have rendered Anakin a speechless lump of youthful desire barely distracted him now. He did not know why Padme was asking these questions, but he knew his duty. He said in reply, “Perhaps it means there never was a story, just confusion after a stressful day.”

“I suppose that is possible. Sometimes things go that way. Guesses and suppositions which turn out not to be true. Sometimes. But sometimes it turns out that they are true, and that truth has to be hidden. It is too terrible to be set loose, even if it takes the form of a child,” Padme said softly, staring at Anakin, no longer preparing for sleep.

“So I am a terror?” Anakin said, his voice cracking almost, but not quite, imperceptibly. Is this all she saw, he wondered. A power to be used?

Padme smiled sadly and then pulled something from the bottom of the box on the desk. It was a simple necklace, nothing like the ornate piece of jewelry she had worn for all her meetings that day. A plain cord which ended in a small embellishment made of carved wood. She held it in her hands and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment and then put it on. When she was done she looked up at Anakin, whose chin was quivering. He did not cry. He had been trained for emotional self-control for years, and he needed every day of it to hold back his tears.

“I don’t wear it outside much. Something like that, for someone in my position, it requires explanation. And I prefer not to share that moment with others. That moment a scared boy, far from home, reached out with a giving heart to someone else in need. Someone he barely knew, who he did not know was a Queen. That boy who I think saved me, saved my people and my world. That boy who seemed to frighten the most powerful men in the galaxy, when all he wanted was his mother and to carve me this pendant. I like to think about that, to be reminded of that lesson,” she said before standing up.

“What lesson is that?” Anakin said as his voice cracked.

“That true power does not have to be terrifying. That it can be innocent and pure. That the fate of worlds does not have to depend on hard men and women willing to do whatever is necessary. That sometimes it is enough to be caring, to be good. I like to keep that lesson close to my heart,” she said as her hand went to the piece of wood laying against the skin of her chest.

Anakin did not blush as he smiled and nodded. 

“Goodnight, Anakin. I think I shall give sleep a try, now that I have you at my door, keeping watch. I know I have nothing to fear,” she said.

Anakin bowed and after the door closed turned his back to it. Nothing in the galaxy could have hoped to breach that door that night.

Chapter Text

AWMA Part II Chapter IV

The Mission

“We pursued the would-be assassin and found her vehicle parked near an entryway to an elevator, one that could have taken her into the depths of Coruscant,” Qui-Gon said to the assembled Jedi Council.

“How ever did you find her down below?” Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

“We didn’t. Obi-Wan…,” Qui-Gon answered as he nodded towards his former Padawan, who was standing in the center of the circle with him, “...suggested that it was a ruse. He reasoned that she would need her vehicle to get to a starport, and was trying to throw us off her track by sending us searching down below.”

“What if the assassin had been a Coruscant resident?” Mace Windu asked.

“Well, I figured that our odds of finding anyone in the lower levels was low enough that it was worth risking Obi-Wan’s plan. We took the elevator one level down and then cut our way back up a few meters away. The assassin was getting in her vehicle when we found her,” Qui-Gon answered.

“And it was then that she was killed by this…,” Plo Koon said.

“The armor was that of a Mandalorian. The skill in shooting suggests that as well,” Qui-Gon said.

“We should not jump to conclusions,” Yaddle said. “After the Mandalorian civil wars there are far more sets of Mandalorian armor out there than there are Mandalorian warriors to wear them, especially with the recent political movements there by Clan Kryze.”

Qui-Gon was about to answer when he heard Obi-Wan cough slightly at the indirect mention of Satine Kryze. After pausing a moment to see if Kenobi was going to keep it together, Qui-Gon responded, “I do not think that this was an agent of the Mandalorian government Master Yaddle. As you say they have made great progress pursuing the path of peace. But that has left more than a few Mandalorian warriors alive and without a war to fight.”

“You suspect this Mandalorian is a mercenary?” Mace Windu asked, his voice calm but grave.

“It seems the most reasonable explanation, Master Windu,” Qui-Gon said.

“Who do you think hired him?” Windu followed up.

Qui-Gon was aware of the implication, but could tell from Windu’s expression he was not trying to force Qui-Gon to name Dooku. Windu looked as troubled about the answer to the question as Qui-Gon felt. 

“Down a very dangerous road does this question take us,” Yoda said.

“If we share this…theory…with the Chancellor, what will he do? Will this derail the negotiations?” Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

“We cannot even guarantee that news of the assassination won’t do that, regardless of what we tell the Chancellor about the assassins,” Windu said.

“Surely, Master Windu, you are not suggesting we hide this latest assassination attempt on a Senator from the Chancellor,” a shocked Yaddle replied.

“We might ask Senator Amidala what she wants. She is, after all, the victim here,” Qui-Gon interjected. 

“I don’t think that means she has the right to withhold evidence of a crime from the authorities,” Yaddle said.

“It is within our sphere of authority to investigate attacks on Jedi independently of Senatorial authority,” Windu said.

“But this wasn’t an attack on the Jedi, it was an attack on the Senator,” Yaddle shot back.

“We promised, at the Chancellor’s request, to provide security for the Senator. Once that was done her safety because a Jedi matter,” Windu said, his tone growing more commanding.

Yaddle looked around the room and saw that the others agreed with Windu, that they were, in fact, simply waiting for her to stop getting in the way of the decision they all saw as the correct one. She allowed her interest in comity and consensus to overpower her misgivings and nodded.

“This is a delicate time for the Republic. It is on the brink of collapse. If the hardliners get their way, if they get the Chancellor on their side, we could see a return to a Republic under arms, and that would be a dark time for the Jedi Order,” Windu said.

“If we can calm matters we should. Perhaps the Senator can be convinced to leave Coruscant for somewhere safer,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“I do not believe she will do so while the political crisis continues,” Obi-Wan said. “Some of the votes will be very close, and she is a leader in the Loyalist faction.”

“She is not the only leader. Perhaps it would be possible for someone else to act as her proxy, as far as voting is concerned,” Windu said.

“Who?” Yaddle asked.

“I believe that according to Senate rules it must be someone from her own system,” Kit Fisto said.

“Jar Jar Binks?” Obi-Wan said with a smirk.

“No!” Qui-Gon said, giving Obi-Wan a stern look.

“If agree to leave she does, her head of security she will not need,” Yoda said.

“I have spoken to Captain Typho. He is a sensible man, and I believe his loyalty to the Senator can be relied upon,” Qui-Gon said.

“Do you think you can convince the Senator of this course of action?” Windu asked Qui-Gon.

“I can try,” Qui-Gon said. “She is a strong minded individual.”

“What are we going to do about this Mandalorian? If we are not going to include the Republic government in the investigation, what do we do instead?” Yaddle asked.

“We have a lead Master,” Obi-Wan said. “The Mandalorian used a peculiar dart to kill the assassin. I have a contact I can ask to help us track it down.”

“Perhaps someone more senior than Obi-Wan should be put in charge of the investigation,” Kit Fisto suggested.

“The more senior the Jedi, the more attention they will bring,” Plo Koon replied. 

“I agree. For now Obi-Wan Kenobi should investigate, while Master Qui-Gon and his Padawan escort the Senator to a safer location,” Windu said.

Qui-Gon bowed his head. He was not sure he agreed with the decisions that had been made, but as he had no better suggestions and was wearied by the Council debates, he decided it would be best to accede to their wishes without comment. 

“What do you mean ‘leave Coruscant’?” Padme yelled, her voice filling the guest bedroom where Anakin was still insisting she stay whenever possible.

“It is for your own safety, Senator,” Qui-Gon said. “We cannot protect you here. Every moment of every day there are thousands of sentient beings in close proximity to you. There are untold numbers of criminals on this world, killers whose skills are for sale to whomever seeks your death. And if those behind these attacks ever decide to stop making targeted attacks, then there is truly no safety here. What if they bomb the foundations of this building? What if they fly a ship into it? On Naboo we will have greater control of the situation, and greater flexibility to deal with it.”

“The goal of my attacker is to get me out of the way, to weaken the Loyalist cause. If we do this we are giving them what they want. What if the bill to recreate the Republican army and fleet is passed while I am hiding, what then?” Padme asked, seated at the desk below Qui-Gon

“If the Separatists are going to have an army, why shouldn’t the Republic?” Anakin asked, earning a swift rebuke from Qui-Gon.

“Because, Anakin, once that bill passes dozens, maybe hundreds of systems will leave the Republic. Dooku has been claiming for years that the Republic will create a centralized military. The only thing giving most of the smaller planets in the Republic any sense of security is that the only militaries out there are those that belong to member systems. No one system has a large enough force to go it alone, to survive ostracism by the others. But a centralized Republic fleet and army? Whoever controls the Republic would be able to use that to dominate any of the member planets. It would completely upset the political equilibrium that has kept the Republic stable for a thousand years. That is why Dooku wants the bill to pass, because he wins enough new supporters to more than compensate for whatever military the Republic creates. That is why he wants me dead,” Padme explained.

“I do not accept that Master Dooku is the one behind these attacks,” Qui-Gon said stiffly.

“Do you think that has something to do with the fact that you are the only Jedi who still refers to him as a Master?” Padme replied sharply. 

Qui-Gon Jinn’s normally unflappable demeanor almost cracked there, and he took a moment to compose himself. Padme, watching the struggle between loyalty and reason play out in his face, said, with a softer tone, “My apologies Master Jinn. I am somewhat…out of sorts today.”

Qui-Gon nodded. From the doorway Obi-Wan asked, “Does this mean you are willing to go?”

“It does not,” Padme said. “It is not as though whoever is behind these attacks is going to stop trying. If I am going to face assassination attempts I would rather get something useful done in between them.”

“You are correct, they will keep trying. The attacks will escalate with every failure. What if the next thing they try is bombing your Senate offices?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Or the base of this building,” Anakin added.

Qui-Gon nodded and said, “Thousands would die then. Not only can we protect you better off of Coruscant, you will be protecting everyone who is around you here.”

Though she did not give in formally for several hours, Qui-Gon could tell this last reason had swayed her. She kept insisting that they could think of a way to keep everyone safe without her leaving even as she packed her bags. Anakin pretended to need to stay by her side to prevent further attacks, despite Obi-Wan explaining that ships were patrolling the area to prevent sniper attacks, and that the assassins were unlikely to have planned a third attack the day after the second had failed.

When the time came the four of them made their way to the spaceport, even though Obi-Wan had explained that his investigations were going to start on Coruscant with an old friend. Anakin escorted Padme onto the ship. He had the idea of travelling on a commercial ship, which Qui-Gon had approved though with a twist. He had booked them passage on a private ship which left the spaceport around the same time and was headed to the opposite side of the galaxy. If anyone was pursuing them he hoped to give them days of wasted travel time. So Anakin and Padme entered the private ship, but then quickly left it via one of the ground shuttles that loaded and unloaded cargo and which took them to the commercial freighter Anakin had selected. 

Qui-Gon, meanwhile, boarded a Jedi small transport and did so conspicuously, having it meet him on a large outdoor pad. If anyone was watching their eyes would be on him, and not on the two hooded figures lying down in the luggage and cargo being driven to the large, busy freighter. Qui-Gon took off first, making his way up through the airlanes into orbit. Once there he began his evasive maneuvers, weaving through the paths of various ships, making himself both very noticeable in general, and very hard to find in particular. He wanted to draw the eyes of any potential pursuers but not have them get close enough to him to get a tracker on his ship. When he received confirmation from Anakin that the freighter had taken off, Qui-Gon decided to continue his distraction for a few more minutes before jumping away to Naboo. 

Qui-Gon’s ship was significantly faster than the freighter, which anyway had to make several stops, and so he arrived at Naboo well ahead of them. It was strange returning to the planet after so long. In the months after the battle that put Amidala back on her throne Qui-Gon had sought to return to the planet so that he might investigate the strange message he had received in his battle with the Sith Lord. But his duties as a Master to Anakin had been more pressing, and even then he had felt worried about the intensity of his connection to Padme Amidala, though at least then he had not had to factor in Anakin’s teenage romanticism.

But the mystery remained, and Qui-Gon intended to use Anakin and Padme’s transit time to investigate it on his own. He worried still about the two of them being in such close proximity to each other, but he still could not think of a superior solution to the problem. Using a commercial freighter and mixing with the crowd had been a good idea. The only problem with it had been that if Amidala’s would-be assassins knew they had boarded such a ship they would without doubt attack it and destroy it. A distraction had been necessary, and Qui-Gon had felt better with two than one. And of the three Jedi Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon himself were by far the more well known and far more connected to Amidala in the public consciousness. They would draw the eyes of any pursuers far more effectively than Anakin. Someone who had done their research would know that a young boy had been with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan during the crisis on Naboo, but they would hardly know what he looked like now. Qui-Gon had received special dispensation from the Council to take Anakin’s training more slowly than normal, and so despite being older by several years than Obi-Wan had been before leaving Coruscant, most of Anakin’s Jedi career had been spent in the Temple. 

But Anakin had been trained, and Qui-Gon would have to trust that training. So after landing in Theed, Qui-Gon made his way to the palace. He did not set out for an audience with the current queen, Jamilia. When a Jedi Master landed on a planet it was expected that they would announce themselves to the rulers of that planet, barring special circumstances that required some level of circumspection. This was most definitely such a circumstance. But Qui-Gon did want access to the palace and had conferred with Captain Typho about how to go about entering without being seen. Typho had promised to tell the security forces that a visitor would be present. Qui-Gon did not intend to spend time anywhere that would cause a bother, for he was making for the reactor hall.

When he arrived he was struck by the size of the place. The reactor room was absurdly large, as Qui-Gon had almost found out to his detriment years earlier. It was the distance between Obi-Wan and him that had allowed the Sith to avoid fighting the two of them together for very long. Qui-gon made his way towards the center of the reactor, to the spot where he had heard the voice so many years before, the same day the other voices had fallen silent. This aspect of what had happened on Naboo was the only one he had not shared with the Council. His exploration of ancient Jedi meditation techniques had, years before, put him in touch with beings he had come to think of as the priestesses. What they truly were, he did not know. But they had put him in touch with something, something he had not understood but whose importance he could not deny, had he even wanted to. In the deepest of meditation, in the dark stillness within his own soul, they had opened a door. A gate through which, once opened, a bountiful, glorious light flowed. It filled the dark places, surrounded Qui-Gon, every droplet of light which flowed around him a life, brilliant and shining with its own hopes and joys. And it was as though, with each light which touched him he was changed. He was made more like that light. And light was forever. The darkness could not destroy the light. The darkness was just what the light moved through. The darkness was only there so that the light could be seen.

He had touched that light the day of the Battle of Naboo, but when he tried to reach it as he waited for Obi-Wan to join him, with the Sith fuming from behind the force field at his refusal to pursue, he found no door. It was as though the voice had forced out the priestesses. Was this some further step towards the enlightenment they had once promised him? The years of silence had convinced him that this initial hope was misplaced. Something had changed, but until he knew the source and nature of the voice, he knew he had no hope of understanding that change.

So he meditated for a while in the reactor room, seeking the voice again. And all he found was silence. By the end of the day he knew it was time to move on. Whatever the voice was, it did not seem bound to a place. He slipped out of the palace and made his way towards the spaceport. Anakin and Padme would be landing the following day, and Qui-Gon decided to spend the night at the cheapest hotel near the spaceport. When he entered the room he discovered why it was so cheap. The room consisted of a cot, a chair and a small washbasin near the window. Qui-Gon guessed that the hotel served poorer residents of Naboo who had to stay overnight for an early departure from the planet’s only spaceport which could accommodate large passenger liners. But as a Jedi he was used to spare living accommodations and settled in quite quickly. He laid down on the cot and entered a state of meditation before sleep, as he normally did. 

Typically this procedure gave him a calm night free of any dreams or nightmares. But this night was different. He dreamt, and the dream opened with him standing on what appeared to be a glass walkway suspended in space. All around him there were stars, brighter and more numerous than he had ever seen before. Having grown up on Coruscant, stars had been things rarely seen due to the light pollution from the world city. When he looked around he felt as though he were in the vacuum of space, though one breath convinced him that he was not. When he turned around, what he saw convinced him he was in a dream. A man lay before him, hooded and cloaked. Before him, set off a short way from the path upon which Qui-Gon stood and the man lay, was a circular gate, a portal of swirling energy. Qui-Gon took a step towards the man and bent over, reaching out his hand to check on him when he heard a voice. In a flash he realized it was not a voice, it was the Voice.

“You cannot wake him,” she said.

When Qui-Gon looked up he saw a woman standing before him. Whether she had been there all along or whether she had just appeared he could not tell, for she was robed as the man was in a fabric of deep, dark black. But unlike the man lying on the path, Qui-Gon could see her face. Despite that fact he could make nothing of it. He could not tell if her skin was dark or light, whether it was the fresh face of youth or wrinkled with age, or even whether it was the face of a human being. It was like the feeling one had when one tried to remember someone’s face from a dream and can recall no precise feature of it, only it was happening as he looked at her. 

“Cannot or must not?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Here there is no difference,” she said.

“Who is he?” Qui-Gon asked, certain he was important, but totally unaware of who he was.

“He is the dreamer,” she responded.

“What is he dreaming about?” Qui-Gon asked.

“He dreams of you,” she said.

“What?” Qui-Gon asked, disturbed for some reason by the idea.

“You cannot wake him, for you are his dream, and you must not wake him, for in this place what is only a dream may yet be,” she said. He could make nothing of her face, but Qui-Gon could tell from her voice that she was old, older, he was sure, than he could imagine. 

“It was you that day on Naboo, wasn’t it?” Qui-Gon asked. “Who are you? What are you? Are you a priestess of the Force?”

“It was not me, it was he who spoke,” she said, nodding in the direction of the sleeping man.

“I remember your voice. I will always remember your voice. Why did you warn me? I would have died, right? The Sith would have killed me?” Qui-Gon said.

“It was my voice, but his words, the message he told me to give you. He spoke through me,” she said.

“Why?” Qui-Gon asked desperately.

“So he might dream of you, that his dream might be made real,” she said. “And the time has come for the last part of that message. It is time to ease his pain, to silence his fear. To take him home.”

“Where is his home? Who is he?” Qui-Gon shouted in fear. He could feel the definition of the place fading, could feel himself beginning to wake up.

“You have always known,” she said as the stars began to go out behind her and her black robe melted seamlessly into the space around them, until all that was left was her face. At the last moment before he woke up, Qui-Gon at last got a look at her face. A woman of middle age, her eyes kind, sad and weary. Something about it seemed familiar, and he felt sure he could figure out where he had seen her before if he only had one more moment to think. But that moment was denied him, for he woke from the black void into the dawn light. Qui-Gon got up slowly, feeling the long years of travel and training in his knees and hips. He went to the window and watched as the sun rose over the mountains in the distance, letting the soft light and quiet of a world just waking up return him to a state of calm contemplation. The dream had been disturbing and he needed to clear it from his mind. Not the information it conveyed. That he knew was important and needed to be held on to. But the distraction it presented, the disruption to his spirit and connection to the Living Force, that needed to be smoothed away.

He was still in meditation when the ship carrying Padme and Anakin came in. He felt his Padawan’s presence as the ship drew closer, and sensed the disquiet in the young man’s soul. Despite his unease, Qui-Gon stuck to their plan, which was for them to meet out of sight, just in case the assassins had followed him here. He trusted Anakin to find him through the Force and waited for them to arrive.

When they did, it became very clear that Padme Amidala had never stepped foot in this part of her homeworld before. It wasn’t just that the hotel was cheap. Qui-Gon was sure that as Queen Padme had done all manner of outreach work with the poor, especially after the Trade Federation invasion. It was that this hotel was the kind of place frequented by those who either were or aspired to be part of the criminal element. It was the kind of place a smuggler would bunk while waiting on a shipment, or where a mercenary or freebooter looking for a crew might hole up while on the hunt for work. It was just the kind of place Naboo security would have not allowed her to go. That was the main reason Qui-Gon had chosen the place. An assassin, if they had followed them, was likely to rent their own room here. They were less likely to look for the former Queen and current Senator in the very place they themselves were staying, but, more importantly, it presented the opportunity for Qui-Gon to turn the tables on any potential pursuer. Running and hiding might work to keep the Senator safe, but hunting their hunter was what was needed if they were to discover who was after her. In the quiet part of his mind, the part where his oldest loyalties and most unrealistic hopes rested, his own voice said that it was the only way to clear his former Master’s name.

Once the two of them were in the room Qui-Gon walked into the hallway to see if there was anything amiss. Anakin’s face had seemed troubled and Qui-Gon thought that perhaps the young Jedi’s senses had detected something he lacked the maturity and experience to identify. But when he reached out with his own feelings Qui-Gon felt no malevolent presence. Or rather he felt no malevolent presence aimed at them, none ready to strike. The hotel was of course full of…what had Obi-Wan said on that trip to Dallenor…scum and villains. 

Satisfied that the wickedness present was of an ordinary variety, Qui-Gon returned to the room and found Anakin, his countenance still troubled, sitting on the bed. Senator Amidala crouched on the floor in front of him, and was whispering something to him when Qui-Gon re-entered, but stopped and pulled her hand from his when she heard the Jedi Master’s approach. She stood up and turned towards Qui-Gon before asking, “When are we leaving?”

“Leaving where, Senator? This hotel? This city? Your planet?” 

“Are we planning to leave Naboo sometime soon?” she asked.

“Perhaps. Let us see what we find here,” Qui-Gon replied as he looked worriedly at his Padawan. “Anakin, is everything alright?”

Anakin looked up at him and it seemed to Qui-Gon he was on the edge of tears. Qui-Gon watched as the boy steadied himself before saying, “I had a dream Master.”

“What kind of dream?” Qui-Gon said quickly, betraying his own unease.

“My mother…I saw my mother. Someone was talking to me…,” Anakin said.

“Who was talking to you?” Qui-Gon asked hurriedly. “Your mother?”

Anakin thought for a moment and shook his head. “I don’t think I remember…well enough…what her voice sounded like,” he said with shame. 

Padme rubbed his shoulders gently and said, “It’s not your fault.”

“But it was a woman’s voice?” Qui-Gon asked, ignoring the obvious affection between the two.

“Yes,” Anakin said.

“What did she say?”

“She said it was time to go home,” Anakin said softly.

Qui-Gon, who had been leaning over Anakin to speak to him, straightened up slowly. He could not help but be reminded of the woman from his dream, of the sleeping figure she spoke of, and the message she had given. He was dreaming of Qui-Gon and he needed to go home. For Qui-Gon Jinn, who had seen deeper into the mysteries of the Force than perhaps any Jedi alive, the thought that he was a part of a dream was not as outside the realm of credibility as it would have been for others. But the idea that Anakin was the dreamer was deeply unsettling. But, a voice, his own, said in his mind, what better explanation of what made him the Chosen One could you ask for? But how could he be part of the young man’s dream, Qui-Gon wondered. Anakin was still only a child. Qui-Gon could remember years and years before the boy had been born. But what was time to the Cosmic Force? He had long ago accepted that there were mysteries his mind could not penetrate, mysteries that simply had to be accepted and lived with. So he got on with living with them.

“You wish to go to Tatooine?” Qui-Gon asked.

“No Master! I mean…I did not intend to suggest we abandon our mission,” Anakin said.

“You wouldn’t have to,” Padme interjected. “Your job is to protect me. As long as I am with you, you are doing that.”

“Tatooine is a dangerous place, Senator,” Qui-Gon said. “It is outside the Republic’s authority and protection.”

“The Republic could not protect me in the heart of its power. That is why you are here with me, which is in and of itself dangerous for you,” Padme said. “Besides, they are less likely to expect me to go to Tatooine.”

“Naboo has unique security provisions in place given that it is the Chancellor’s home planet,” Qui-Gon said without conviction. He was trying his best to keep his mind on the mission he had been given by the Council, to figure out what he would say if his only priority were her safety. But the combination of it not being so, and her being the one he was arguing against made it very difficult to maintain that commitment.

“We aren’t worried about an army, and the ships in orbit and the garrison on the ground are there to prevent another invasion. It doesn’t do much against a single assassin. I formally request that you accompany me to Tatooine, Master Jinn,” Padme said as she rubbed Anakin’s back.

“Very well Senator, we go to Tatooine.”

Chapter Text

AWMA Part II Chapter V

The Rescue

Owen Lars had completed another long day on his father’s moisture farm, days made all the longer since the attack, and was making his way towards the house so he could wash up. Beru was coming over later to help look after his father, and he wanted to smell, if not nice, at least better when she arrived. He heard the ship before he saw it, and figured it was just another ship out of Mos Eisley, albeit one taking a strange path out of the city. He was close to the stairwell leading down into the house when the sound of the ship’s approach grew too loud to ignore. He turned around and saw a shining silver vessel swooping in over the Lars homestead, and for the life of him Owen could not figure out why anyone rich enough to afford such a ship would bother coming out to his home, or to Tatooine in general. It landed not far from the house and when Owen saw the cloud of sand created by the ship his mind turned immediately to how much work it would be to clear the resulting gunk from the nearby vaporators. 

As the ramp lowered Owen decided it was worth seeing who would step out, and so stopped walking towards the house. He saw a tall man with long greying hair walk down the ramp, followed by a young man around Owen’s age who was sporting a ridiculous looking braid. But behind him was a supremely beautiful young woman that Owen cautioned himself about. He would need to make sure he was not staring at her when Beru arrived. 

The older man saw Owen and walked towards him, and Owen cursed himself for gawking and drawing his attention. The old man waved and called out, “Hello there, can you tell us where we can find Shmi Skywalker?”

“What?” Owen asked, suddenly suspicious.

“We are looking for Shmi Skywalker and were told that she had been purchased by Cliegg Lars. Is this the Lars farm?” the man asked.

“She isn’t a slave,” Owen said with an edge.

“We heard that too,” the old man said.

“Where is she?” the young man yelled at Owen.

“What do you want with her? What is this?” Owen shot back.

“We came here to find her. We came to see if she is ok,” the old man said softly, attempting to bring the temperature down.

Owen took a look at the young man, and noticed for the first time how distressed he seemed. The extra attention he was paying to his face proved the key to unlocking the mystery of who he was talking to. “Are you Anakin?”

“How do you know that?” Anakin asked.

“She told me about you,” Owen answered, with sadness and regret in his voice.

“When? While you were watching her work?” Anakin responded bitterly.

“No!” Owen snapped before getting himself under control. “She hasn’t been a slave for years. Almost as soon as my dad bought her off that bug. They were married. She raised me.”

“Were?” Anakin croaked.

“Is she dead?” the old man asked.

Before Owen could answer he heard his father’s hover chair coming up the stairs. He turned to see the old man, still in his underclothes, grimacing and gulping for air as he tried to guide the device where he wanted it to go. Owen had wanted to get him something better, but the only place that sold such high end medical equipment was located in Mos Eisley, and even if the Lars family could afford to leave the farm untended for the time it took to get there and back, they didn’t have the money to actually buy the thing.

“We don’t know,” his father shouted as he got to the top of the stairs.

“What does that mean?” Anakin asked plaintively.

“Perhaps we should go inside,” the old man said. “We can finish this discussion away from the sand on the wind, and the cold of the desert night.”

Owen nodded and started to walk to his father. Qui-Gon followed him, with Anakin and Padme close behind. 

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I apologize for drawing you up here in your condition…,” Qui-Gon began.

“Cleigg is my name. Cleigg Lars. This is my son Owen,” Cliegg said. “My Shmi told me about you.”

“I am sure. As I said I regret dragging you up here. Perhaps I can be of assistance helping you down,” Qui-Gon said.

“I wouldn’t have come up if I couldn’t get back down,” Cliegg insisted brusquely. 

“It might help if someone were to walk in front of him,” Owen said softly, drawing a stern look from his father.

“Here,” Anakin said roughly before jumping off the ledge into the Lars home. Once he landed, he turned back to Cleigg Lars and used the Force to lift him and his chair into the air. The old man clutched at the arm-rests as Anakin lowered him down. Once he had the man, apparently his step-father, down safely Anakin looked up to see Qui-Gon frowning at him. This frustrated Anakin a bit. The man needed to get down the stairs and Anakin had saved time. That wasn’t impatience, or whatever Qui-Gon thought he was guilty of. It was just rational.

When the others had made their way down the stairs the group went to the dining area, where Anakin got something of a shock. Standing there, apparently waiting for orders, was C-3PO. Anakin had not seen the droid since he had left Tatooine with Qui-Gon years before. He had not even thought about the droid in years. But there he was, with a dull metallic housing, moving awkwardly around the open area of the house just outside the dining area.

“Oh, a guest! Hello there, I am…,” the droid started to say before being interrupted.

“3PO?” Anakin asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Yes, and welcome to the Lars homestead. Is there anything I can do to be of service? My specialty is human-cyborg relations, though I am sadly unable to use my expertise in that area most days.”

“They kept you?” Anakin asked incredulously.

“Kept me? Why would they not keep me? I am very valuable and very useful, young man,” 3PO said.

“He can program the load lifters and interface with the OS of the vaporators,” Cleigg said gruffly.

“And Shmi couldn’t bear to sell him,” Owen followed up. “He reminded her of you.”

“I remind Mistress Lars of this young man? Why?” 3PO asked before the realization arrived. “Oh my! Oh my word! Great Maker! It's the Maker! Oh please let me assist you in whatever has brought you home Ani! I am so happy to see you!”

R2 blurped out a rude comment, causing an argument between the two that stayed under the open sky while the humans made their way to the table.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened,” Qui-Gon suggested to Cleigg.

“It was weeks ago. She was taken by Tusken raiders while out picking mushrooms,” an ashamed Cleigg said. He told the rest of the story of how he and some locals had tried to rescue her, and the awful consequences of that decision.

“So you think they kept her alive?” Padme said, mostly trying to help bolster Anakin’s hope.

“They sometimes do. We don’t know for sure,” Owen said.

“To be honest with you son, there isn’t much hope,” Cleigg said to Anakin.

“But there is still some? Right?” Anakin asked plaintively.

“Well the two of you are Jedi. I suppose if anyone could do it you can. I wish I could go with you, but without my leg…I can at least point you in the right direction.”

Anakin looked at Qui-Gon, waiting for his decision about what to do. Qui-Gon could see the fear in his Padawan’s eyes. This is what Yoda had warned of, all those years ago. Anakin’s attachment to his mother, normal and healthy for all but a Jedi, threatened to upend the peace and calm Qui-Gon had spent years trying to create in the boy. But at this point to not try to rescue his mother would, Qui-Gon knew, cause even greater trouble. There was nothing that could be done about the fact that Anakin had come to the Order so late, that was done. And Qui-Gon did not doubt for a moment that bringing him into the Order had been the right decision. All there was to be done now was the best he could with the situation. 

“We shall set out immediately,” Qui-Gon said as he stood up. He turned to Owen and Cleigg Lars and asked, “Is there somewhere we can hide our ship?”

“You don’t want to take it to Anchorhead, put it in a hangar?” Cleigg asked. “Ships don’t stay that pretty long on Tatooine if they are left exposed.”

“We want as little attention brought to it as we can,” Qui-Gon said.

“There are some gorges in the hills not far from here that are large enough to place the ship in,” Owen said. “I can take my bike and hide the ship, ride back.”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Do you have transportation for us?”

“You can use our speeder,” Cleigg said. “Are you sure you don’t need help? I can get some of the boys from around here to help.”

“I can go!” Owen said animatedly. 

“No, what we need now is haste, and I am sorry to say it, but bringing anyone else with us does nothing but restrict our options,” Qui-Gon said. “The best help you can give us is to keep young Padme here safe.”

“You want me to just sit here?” Padme asked, clearly not liking the idea.

“There is nothing to tie you to this place but your ship. And if that is hidden then anyone looking for you would have better luck finding a rock out in the desert. You are, I think, far safer here than you would have been on Naboo,” Qui-Gon said.

Once all was settled he and an anxious Anakin departed on the speeder. The Lars watched as the two disappeared into the dust. Once out of sight Beru left with Cleigg to apply treatments to his leg.

When the two of them were alone Padme asked Owen, “Do you not have a bacta tank for your father nearby?”

“Bacta? I don’t think there are more than four or five of those on the whole planet, unless you count the privately owned ones. None in Anchorhead anyway,” Owen answered.

Padme brought a cup of blue milk to her lips, took a small sip and then placed the cup back down. She did this absentmindedly, for her mind was filled with numbers, security measures and the weighing of risks. “Where would the closest be?”

Owen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Mos Eisley.”

“Your step-mother, if they find her, is going to need bacta,” Padme said.

“We don’t have the credits for anything like that,” Owen said, resentment putting an edge in his voice.

“I have lots of credits,” Padme said softly, not wanting to rub Owen’s face in the disparity in their wealth.

“Republic credits don’t go far here,” Owen said.

“Oh I remember. Ever since my last time on Tatooine I have always carried a good reserve of Hutt currency, in case I end up on the outer Rim. What do you say, before we hide my ship, we take a trip to Mos Eisley?” Padme suggested.

“The Jedi seemed to think hiding you was important. Mos Eisley is one of the largest cities on the planet. If you fly that ship in there, people will take note,” Owen said. “I want to go. I just don’t want the person trying to save my step-mother to come back to find I failed to do the one thing he asked of me.”

“The Jedi are here to protect me, not command me. I know Shmi, not well, but I met her. I am not going to sit by and do nothing when I know I can help her. The only question is whether you are coming, Owen. I could use your help,” Padme said as she stood up.

“Let’s go,” Owen Lars said with little hesitation.

It only took a few hours for the Jedi to find the Tusken camp. Anakin had suggested asking the Jawas for its location, but as Qui-Gon pointed out that would have required adding to their job the task of finding some Jawas, they dropped the idea. Instead he had pointed out to Anakin that the closeness of his bond with his mother should allow him to use the Force to discover the path to her. He guided the young man in meditation until they both heard a voice, one that had by then become familiar to them both. “Hurry”, it said. When the shock of hearing the mysterious voice had shaken them both free from their meditative trance, Anakin felt confident he knew the direction they needed to go. They quickly got back on the speeder and rode away into the oncoming night.

When they reached the Tusken settlement Qui-Gon sent Anakin around the back of the camp, promising to draw the Tuskens away from the little huts, one of which they suspected held his mother.

Anakin did as he was told, and in his haste he more than once made noise that he worried would bring the attention of the guards. But he had little to fear. After a few moments he saw his Master’s green lightsaber engage in the darkness. The Tuskens began to bark and grunt warnings to the intruder at the edge of their camp, and when Qui-Gon did not depart they started shooting at him. Most had simple projectile weapons rather than blasters, and Qui-Gon was able to brush the little bullets aside with ease. The few blaster bolts were reflected, not back at the Tuskens but harmlessly away into the desert. 

Once the Tuskens realized they could not kill the unwelcome visitor from a distance they charged. Qui-Gon proceeded to use his saber to defend himself, cutting through several gaffi sticks, while also using the Force to throw the assailants back. This truly spooked the Tuskens. The deflection of their ranged attacks they had reasoned was some kind of personal shield, but there was no explaining away the bodies of their comrades as they flew through the crisp, nighttime desert air. They had found themselves in the path of some sorcerer’s fury, their chief concluded, and there was nothing to be done but retreat. He called out to his followers. Many, who had been on the verge of breaking and running already, took this as their excuse to flee in a wild rout. A few of the most disciplined Tuskens ran back to the camp first and took charge of the women and children, leading them away. None of them ever checked the hut with their prisoner in it. They would leave her to face the sorcerer on her own.  

Qui-Gon ran to the camp and saw Anakin emerge from the hanging fabric that formed the door of one of the huts. He called out to his Master and went back in. When Qui-Gon entered the hut he found Shmi Skywalker lying on the ground, unconscious. 

“How is she?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I don’t know!” Anakin shouted. “She was awake for a moment after I untied her. I think she recognized me, but she passed out when I moved her.”

Qui-Gon took out his communicator and sent an emergency pulse code to the ship, hoping one of the droids was monitoring it. He then put his hands over Shmi’s head and tried to sense the state of her health. All living things are present in the Force, and so when something is dying that presence fluctuates in a distinctive way. Qui-Gon, who had studied more about the relationship between the Force and death than any Jedi in generations, was able to sense and properly interpret such fluctuations.

“She is alive, but has been greatly injured. We need to get her medical care,” Qui-Gon said.

“Can we move her? Get her to the speeder? Will she make the trip back to Anchorhead?” Anakin asked each question in rapid succession. 

“We have to try. I don’t know…,” Qui-Gon started to say when he heard the chirping of his communicator. The droids had been watching. The ship was on its way. “Anakin, let’s get her outside!”

The two used the Force to lift her gently, making sure every part of her body was supported, hoping to avoid causing any further injuries. To get around the awkwardness of navigating through the small door, Anakin just cut through the walls and pushed a third of the hut away. 

They took her outside and Qui-Gon told Anakin to watch the sky. In far less time than he thought it would take, Qui-Gon saw the lights of the Nubian ship approaching. It landed close to the now empty Tusken camp. The ramp lowered as Padme rushed down it and she beckoned for the Jedi to get on.

They moved as quickly as they could while holding Shmi’s body steady. When they got to the ship they found, to their surprise, a single occupant bacta tank in the main hold, and Owen Lars at the ship’s controls.

“Get her in, it is functional,” Padme said.

“How?” Anakin asked. “Where?”

“We went to go buy it after you left. Owen led me to the hospital in Mos Eisley,” Padme answered.

“The Senator here paid triple what this thing is worth,” Owen said.

Anakin did not look up at his step-brother while he and Qui-Gon lowered his mother gently into the tank, but did say, “Right now it is worth everything.”

Padme placed the breathing apparatus around Shmi’s mouth and closed the door. As it began to fill with the precious, life-saving liquid Anakin looked nervously at the console, waiting for it to show her vital signs. Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder, and Padme placed her hand inside his. After a few seconds the lights on the console display turned yellow.

“What does that mean?” Anakin barked.

“It means that she has suffered severe injuries, but it also means that she is not in critical condition,” Padme answered. She looked up at Anakin and said, “It means the bacta is going to work.”

Anakin tried to answer, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. His eyes began to water and he brought his hands to them to hide the tears he wouldn’t let fall. After a few seconds he brought his hands down and said, “Thank you.”

Owen, who was nearly as overcome as Anakin said, “You all should fly back. I will drive the speeder back to the farm.”

“We are still in dangerous territory,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “The Tuskens fled but they may return. I will drive the speeder back. The three of you get back to the farm and monitor Shmi’s condition.”

So the three young people took off in the Nubian ship while Qui-Gon made his way to the speeder. In the quiet of the desert night he wondered whether he had done enough, whether this night was why he had been saved, whether the moment of decision was done now. He did not say the question out loud, but he did linger on the thought in his mind, hoping for some answer. None came. He got in the speeder and made his way back to the Lars homestead.

Qui-Gon arrived in the early morning and made his way into the Lars homestead where he found Owen’s girlfriend Beru and Cleigg at breakfast. When Beru stood and seemed ready to serve Qui-Gon food he waved her off.

“I am fine,” he said as he sat down next to Cleigg. “Where are they?”

“Shmi is still in the bacta tank. They offloaded it last night when they arrived. She is in our room,” Cleigg said as he ate his soup. “I want to thank you, Master Jedi. From the look of things my Shmi only had a day or two left before it would have been too late. Without you bringing Anakin and the young Senator here, I don’t think we would have saved her.”

“Owen flew the ship to the canyons and came back on the bike. He returned around an hour ago,” Beru said with pride.

“And Anakin and Padme?” Qui-Gon asked.

“All three of the young people are still asleep. We’ve tried to stay as quiet as we can. Goodness knows they had a long night, though not as long as yours,” Cleigg said with gruff admiration.

“I think I will rest myself, once I have seen to them,” Qui-Gon said as he rose stiffly. Cleigg was right, the night of exertion had gotten to him.

“Owen’s in his room of course. I offered to let the boy sleep in my room, to be close to his mother. But he said he felt awkward sleeping in our bed, which makes sense I suppose,” Cleigg said.

“So where are he and the Senator?” Qui-Gon asked.

“We set up some cots in the garage,” Cleigg said.

Qui-Gon bowed and made his way to the garage. When he reached it he saw the two cots set up directly next to each other, so that they effectively formed one bed. Whether intentionally or during the night, the two had settled into a position in which Padme’s head rested on Anakin’s outstretched left arm. His right arm was draped across her midsection. Qui-Gon frowned and nudged Anakin with his foot. 

“Hmmm?” Anakin said groggily. 

“Come with me Anakin,” Qui-Gon said.

Anakin turned to look at Padme and could not stop himself from smiling as his eyes lingered on her. Qui-Gon cleared his throat and Anakin forced himself to gently pull his arm out from under her. When Anakin had gotten to his feet Qui-Gon motioned with his head for the boy to follow. Anakin dutifully accompanied his Master out of the garage and out onto the desert plain.

“Your mother is doing well from what I hear. As well as can be expected,” Qui-Gon said.

“Yes, my master,” Anakin said.

They walked a few more steps in silence before Qui-Gon asked, “What were you doing in there?”

“Master?” Anakin asked innocently.

“You know what I mean Anakin. What were you doing with the Senator?”

“We were tired, Master. By the time the cots were set up we were asleep on our feet,” Anakin tried to explain.

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Sometimes the Jedi Code can become less than it should be. It becomes a dry formula we apply without thinking.”

When Anakin raised an eyebrow, Qui-Gon gave a wry smile and said, “We apply it most of the time anyway. When it becomes a simple rule to follow without thinking, without feeling, it loses whatever point it had. It is important to understand why the Jedi placed these restrictions on themselves. Important to understand the rules we are called upon to follow.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, unsure of where Qui-Gon was taking this speech.

“Why do you think we are not permitted to marry, to have children?” Qui-Gon asked.

Anakin took a deep breath. He knew he was not prepared to have this conversation. If he had harbored any doubts on that score, they would have disappeared when he noticed the excitement he felt at his Master bringing up Padme by talking about marriage. 

“Because it would distract us,” Anakin answered.

“No. We are trained to deal with distractions. And anyway, the struggle to deny ourselves the most important relationships in the lives of ordinary people is in itself a distraction. We deny ourselves because when you have a family, you become something other than a Jedi. A Jedi places the good of the wider galaxy, of life itself, first. A Jedi is willing to die, and to endure anything, if it will be of service. How can you be that, when you have a particular love so overpowering, so deep? You have heard stories about the lengths mothers and fathers will go to in order to protect their children, the feats of heroism of which they are capable. They can do those things because love calls their strength forth. Jedi must cultivate an impersonal, abstract love; a love that can cover all the life of the galaxy. Such a love cannot stand before the particular, and the personal, love.”

“Master I…,” Anakin began to say.

“You need to decide what you want to be. There is nothing wrong with what you are feeling. There is nothing wrong with what you find yourself wanting. You can leave the Order and be with Padme, if you wish. Or you can remain a Jedi, and give up what all other Jedi give up. What you cannot do is both. Not because it is a rule, not because someone decided, but because that is the nature of commitment. Particular love or universal duty. Whichever you pick, the other would have to come second. But neither of them can be second. They are comprehensive. They come first or they are nothing.

“Why? Why can’t I love who I love and still serve the galaxy?” Anakin asked.

“I hope you never face the moment where it becomes clear why,” Qui-Gon said. “Such a moment would break you. It would break anyone with power such as ours. I do not wish to see you broken, Anakin. I want to see you whole. Committed. Committed to whatever you decide your life will be about.”

Qui-Gon had said what he had to say, and Anakin did not know what to say. So they contributed to the silence of the early morning desert. Anakin lifted his eyes to the rising suns, a staple of his childhood. That had been the last time his life had not been guided by the Jedi Order. He tried to remember what it was he had wanted out of his life before he had met Qui-Gon. He had not wanted to be a Jedi, but that was simply because the thought would not have occurred to him in the first place. Had he wanted a normal life? A family? Love? How could he have? He had been nine years old when Qui-Gon, Padme and Obi-Wan had dropped into his life. All he had wanted to do then was race and build things. And what did it matter now anyway? Should he make a decision now, a decade later, on the basis of his childhood interests? People grew up and grew out of such things. It was natural. So on the one hand he had facts of no importance, and on the other nothing at all. He had been asked who he wanted to be, and when he looked for reasons to give one answer or another, he found nothing. There was nothing. He could give up the only life he knew in favor of something he did not understand, or stay with a life he had chosen as a child with no idea what he was doing.

While Anakin wrestled with the choice Qui-Gon had presented him, the old Jedi Master questioned whether he could really go through with letting the boy go. He was the Chosen One, Qui-Gon had been sure of that ten years ago, and nothing in the intervening decade had done anything to dissuade him. How could he let Anakin leave the Order? Even if he could resign himself to that, would the Order allow it? He knew the Council was not convinced Anakin was the prophesied restorer of the Balance, but neither were they sure he wasn’t. Could he convince them to let him live a normal life? Could he even convince himself?

Their deliberations were cut short by a shout from the lip of the central pit of the Lars homestead. The two Jedi turned and saw Beru beckoning them to come inside. When they reached her she said, “Your mother is awake Anakin!”

“Can I talk to her?” Anakin asked hurriedly.

“Yes, of course! She sent me to come find you,” Beru answered.

Anakin raced down the stairs and sprinted across the courtyard to his mother’s room. When he got there he found her awake, still in the bacta tank though the liquid had been temporarily drained so it could be opened for her to speak. Cleigg was there in his wheelchair, holding her hand. He let go when he saw her eyes widen and begin to tear up. Shmi reached out her newly free hand to her son and Cleigg turned his wheelchair to face him.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” he said on his way out.

Anakin tried to say something by way of thanks but his words caught in his throat. He went to his mother’s side and took her hand and put his forehead down on it. After a second she turned her hand to place it on his cheek and he looked up at her.

“Oh my son, I have missed you so much,” Shmi said.

“I’ve missed you too mom!” Anakin said.

“You’ve grown so much!” she said. “You are a Jedi now?”

“Yes, but I am a Padawan still, not a Knight,” Anakin said.

“Well you were my Knight,” she replied. “Why did you come back to Tatooine?”

“I told you I would come back and set you free Mom, but I guess Cleigg beat me to it,” Anakin said.

“Well you freed me from the Sand People. But how did you know I was there? Did Cleigg find you?” she asked.

“No, I had a dream. I dreamed you were in trouble and I came to help,” Anakin answered.

“And you brought Master Qui-Gon with you, I have heard. And a young woman who helped get this tank. Is she the one from before?” Shmi said.

“Yes,” Anakin said. “She isn’t the Queen anymore, she is a Senator. We are protecting her and she agreed to come here to see if my dreams were true,” Anakin said.

“Oh I must thank her too. My Cleigg says she is very pretty. He said you should marry her,” Shmi said, smiling.

“What!?!”

“Well his exact words were, ‘With the way that girl looks at him, the boy would be a damned fool if he didn’t marry her’,” Shmi said, almost laughing.

“I am a Jedi. We can’t marry,” Anakin said.

“That is what I said,” Shmi told him.

“I guess a lot of people don’t know that about the Order.”

“Oh no, he knew. He just thinks you would be a fool to let that stop you. Don’t take it too hard. Cleigg is gruff but he is a romantic. When people told him he couldn’t marry me because I was a slave, he was so gallant about the whole thing. Bought me off Watto with a crazy offer and set me free once he did,” she explained.

“I am glad he did,” Anakin said.

“So am I. This life is so much better than fixing things for Watto,” she said. “The only thing I was missing was you.”

Anakin held her hand a little longer, but she grew tired quickly. Cleigg rolled back in to tell Anakin she needed another round in the bacta tank, and Anakin agreed to let her sleep. He kissed his mother’s forehead and put the breathing mask on her. Cleigg closed the door and flooded the chamber with the healing liquid.

“Thank you for freeing her, for taking care of her,” Anakin said.

“It was my pleasure, son,” Cleigg said.

“Son? I guess so, I am your stepson,” Anakin said.

“I know you are a man full grown, whatever this nonsense about Jedi ranks, so don’t think you have to treat me like I am your real father. But I know how important you are to Shmi. I wish I had met her earlier and gotten you both from Watto. You could have been raised here, with your mother. Owen would have liked having a brother around. I guess what I am saying is that you always have a home here, if you need it. If, for any reason you decide that maybe being a Jedi isn’t for you,” Cleigg said warily. 

“My mother told me what you said about Padme,” Anakin said.

“If a woman that beautiful, who was brave and smart in addition, looked at me the way she looked at you, you can bet every credit you have I would not let my job get in the way,” Cleigg said as he rolled away.

Anakin stopped in his tracks and thought about the response he had been about to give, which was that being a Jedi was not a job. It was a calling. It was a way of life. A way of being. But he couldn’t tell whether he believed that, at least not when it came to himself. 

The next several days were both joyous and confusing for Anakin. He spent time with his mother every day, and with each passing day she grew stronger and able to speak to him for longer. She seemed curious about everything that had happened to him in the years since his departure, and it was with pride that he told her of all the things he had done and places he had seen. He was also able to spend a great deal of time with Padme. Whenever his mother was resting in the bacta tank he tried to be with her. They did not have a great deal of alone time. They shared their meals with the Lars household, and Anakin sought ways to be helpful. He and Owen worked on ways to give Cliegg and Shmi greater mobility around the farm as he lived with his disability and she recovered from her injuries. A quick trip into Anchorhead and some haggling from Padme got him the parts he needed to upgrade Cliegg’s chair. Owen had the idea to include more ramps and railings so that Shmi had a lower risk of falling, and Anakin, who was very good with droids and machinery, realized he needed a bit of guidance in more practical engineering and construction. But Owen was, despite his natural prickliness, a good teacher. The two began to get along, and even got to the point of telling jokes and sharing memories of their Tatooine childhoods. 

But Qui-Gon’s words hung over everything. There was a choice to be made and he knew he could not run from it. Their last day on Tatooine had found him outside as the suns set, thinking about Padme, about the Jedi, about the family life he had gotten a glimpse of here on Tatooine, and what he wanted out of life. His communicator interrupted his thoughts. He pulled it out of his robes and saw it blinking at him. A message had been received on the ship. The bright red color of the warning light meant that it had been coded as an emergency message by someone using Jedi protocols. But the only people in the galaxy who had the communications ID for the ship and knew Jedi were with the Senator were the Jedi Council and Obi-Wan.

From below him he heard Qui-Gon shout, “Anakin!” 

Without needing his Master to tell him, Anakin knew they had to get back to the ship immediately. He ran to get Owen to get directions to Padme’s ship.

Qui-Gon ran to the garage entrance to get the speeder, and did not have to wait long for Anakin to arrive with the information about where the ship was located, but when he appeared in the garage Padme was with him.

“I think you will be more comfortable at the Lars home Senator,” Qui-Gon said.

“It is my ship you are going to Master Jedi,” she replied. “I prefer to be informed.”

Qui-Gon shook his head and said, “Very well.”

Qui-Gon rode the speeder hard. When Anakin expressed worry about what the Lars would do if the speeder broke down, Padme assured him that she could buy them another one.

“Where is all this money coming from, if I might ask, Senator?” Qui-Gon said. “First the Bacta tank and now a new speeder?”

“After the assassination attempt, the Queen of Naboo gave me access to an account to use for any security needs,” Padme said.

“Do you think she had saving Anakin’s mother in mind?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I think she left the use of the funds to my discretion for a reason,” Padme responded curtly. Padme was an intelligent woman, but even more importantly she was perceptive. The burden Qui-Gon had placed on Anakin had not gone unnoticed, and she her sympathies being with Anakin, she resented what she considered his overbearing approach to the issue.

“Of course,” Qui-Gon said gently. The rest of the speeder ride passed in silence.

Immediately entering the ship once they arrived at its hidden spot in a canyon, they found a message waiting for them from Obi-Wan that he had requested be transmitted to Coruscant. The three of them listened as he told them of the conspiracy between the various corporate guilds and clans to create a Droid army and kill Padme. They heard as well of Count Dooku’s involvement. The last image was Obi-Wan being chased from his ship by Droidekas. 

When the message cut off Qui-Gon did not speak. He entered the command to relay the message to the Jedi Temple and then stared out the window.

“We have to go help him,” Padme said after several seconds of silence.

“We are supposed to be protecting you, not taking you into danger,” Anakin argued.

“We are closer and can be there long before anyone from Coruscant can arrive,” Padme responded.

“The Jedi Council will send word to Jedi across the galaxy to go to Geonosis,” Anakin replied.

“How quickly can they get there? How many of them have hyperspeed capable ships at the ready?” Padme asked. She paused and followed her questions up with another. “And how many of them are as strong as the two of you?”

Anakin couldn’t think of an adequate response and looked to Qui-Gon. “Master?”

“Anakin is right. Our duty is to protect you.  But the Senator is also correct. The best chance to save Obi-Wan is for us to go to Geonosis,” Qui-Gon said.

“So what do we do?” Anakin asked, clearly agitated.

“We go where the Senator goes. To protect her,” Qui-Gon said.

“Then I am setting course for Geonosis,” Padme insisted. 

Anakin sighed and smiled at the same time, happy that they were going to rescue Obi-Wan and relieved that he did not have to choose between that and protecting Padme. He looked over at his Master, who he could tell was lost in the thought. What those thoughts were Anakin could not tell for sure, only that they filled Qui-Gon with dread and sadness.

Chapter Text

AWMA Part II - Chapter VI

The War

When Padme’s Nubian ship came out of hyperspace above Geonosis Anakin’s first thought was infiltration of the Separatist stronghold. Padme seemed inclined to that plan as well, but Qui-Gon was able to dissuade the two young people from such a foolish course of action. To execute such an exfiltration of Obi-Wan they would need to have some idea of the layout of the facility, as well as the forces contained within. They had neither.

So instead Qui-Gon simply hailed the stronghold. A Geonosian answered. The Jedi were able to understand him, but he was unable to understand them and quickly found a droid. This droid told them to leave and had trouble understanding why Qui-Gon wasn’t doing so. Eventually the fact that Qui-Gon Jinn was in orbit above them got through and, once enough messages were passed back and forth, they were instructed to land. They did so and were met, once they landed, by a small group of battle droids which the party recognized as being of the same model as those the Trade Federation had used on Naboo. The droids escorted them to a conference room, cut into the red rock of the plateau, with a large circular table in the center. The Jedi and the Senator took their seats. They did not have long to wait before their host arrived.

“Qui-Gon!” Dooku exclaimed. “Yout cannot know how happy I am to see you.”

“I am glad to see you as well, Master, though I confess I am less pleased about where I have found you,” Qui-Gon said as he stood to greet his old Master.

“Yes it is an unfortunate location, and sometimes unfortunate company,” Dooku said as he took Qui-Gon’s hand in a warm greeting.

“Where is Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked coldly.

“Your newest Padawan is uninterested in this welcome reunion, I see,” Dooku said archly.

“I am interested in the whereabouts and safety of my friend,” Anakin said, matching Dooku’s mocking tone with belligerence.

“He is here. His safety is unthreatened, though I could not blame him if he found fault with the accommodations. I have done what I could for him, Qui-Gon, for your sake. Sadly, my partners are overly suspicious and aggressive. Something, I take it, you will understand,” he said with a glance at Anakin.

“Your partners?” Padme asked.

“Yes, Senator. Those who, like me, see how unworkable and unreformable the Republic truly is. Unfortunately our agreement on that point does not imply agreement on others,” the Count said as he sat down in a chair opposite Padme, who had Anakin on her right. Qui-Gon took a seat midway between his Padawan and the Count.

“My attempted assassination, was that one of the unfortunate points of disagreement?” Padme asked.

“I know nothing of such things,” Dooku said with a wave of his hand.

“Obi-Wan came here investigating the attempt of several days ago to kill the Senator on Coruscant,” Qui-Gon said, his gaze locked on Dooku.

“As I said, I had nothing to do with that. I saw it on the holonews, of course. I do hope none of my partners were involved, but I do not control them,” Dooku explained calmly.

“Really?” Padme challenged.

“Yes, my dear. My role is as a liaison between the various groups that have gathered here. They are a fractious bunch, and someone needs to keep them from falling into quarrels that do not advance our mutual goals. But if, separate from our cause, some of them with whom you share a history contracted for your murder I can only say I am pleased they failed,” Dooku replied.

“I did not know you found my continued existence pleasing,” Padme said sarcastically.

“Why would I not? I follow Senate politics, young lady. I know that there are those pushing for war against us, though we have only exercised our natural rights to self-determination and association. But I also know you are among those leading the effort to prevent that war. You have my thanks,” Dooku said as a droid came in bearing drinks.

“Do I have the thanks of the Trade Federation?” Padme asked.

“Ah, regrettably not. Their commitment to the cause and their ability to let past failures go are regrettably linked,” Dooku said as he took a sip of wine.

The droid came around to Padme and offered her a cup before she waved it off. “So you admit they tried to have me killed?”

“Child, do you think I gave myself over to this kind of indignation every time someone tried to kill me? You are here, alive. You have twice now placed yourself at the center of galactic politics. If you are unwilling to accept the costs of that prominence, perhaps it is not for you,” Dooku said.

“Do you excuse this assassination attempt then, Master?” Qui-Gon asked.

Dooku gave his former Padawan a frustrated look before replying, “More than once I have asked you to come to me, asked you to join me. Perhaps had you done so I would not have to rely so much on bloodthirsty frogs!”

“You blame Master Qui-Gon for your own crimes?” an outraged Anakin shouted as he stood up from his chair.

“Don’t be ridiculous, boy. I have heard what they say about you, but you are a fool if you think that makes you the least bit frightening. It is better for Padawans like you to sit and listen, and not interrupt your betters. The Senator at least knows how to comport herself properly in this company,” Dooku said, condescension dripping from his words.

“You asked me to betray the Republic, Master. Why would I agree? Why have you agreed?” Qui-Gon said softly, trying to prevent Anakin’s temper from getting the better of him.

“I would prefer to speak to you alone on this matter,” Dooku said.

“What is said to me can be told to Anakin, for I will surely tell him anyway,” Qui-Gon said.

“An unwise decision Qui-Gon, but it is not your Padawan whose presence most dissuades me from a policy of openness,” Dooku said.

“What is there to be done, Master? I cannot in good conscience allow Senator Amidala to be taken from my presence, as my duty is to protect her,” Qui-Gon said.

“Fine,” Dooku said as he put his glass down and stood up. He paced for a few moments, seeming to collect his thoughts. While his back was turned Anakin’s hand went to his lightsaber, but a quick hand motion from Qui-Gon was sufficient for him to refrain from a foolish attack.

Seemingly unaware of what Anakin had considered doing, Dooku began his monologue. “You know, Qui-Gon, that I have long had reservations about the Republic. Its once noble political institutions have been corrupted. At first it was just the bureaucracy. When I was a child it was already a commonplace to plan to bribe some Republic inspector or permit official if you wanted something done. Then it spread to the courts. And of course you remember our run-ins with Senators who brought disgrace to that office. You know that I reached a point where I could no longer stand by as the Jedi Order was made the servant of the Senate, of the petty tyrants across a thousand worlds in whose hands lay the authority to send representatives to that body. And so I left the Order. I was free, free to investigate the source of the corruption. Even to a political pessimist like myself the decline of the Republic into venality and criminality was rapid. Something must be behind it all, I thought. Something more than the ordinary inducements. And I found it.”

“What did you find?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I told your former Padawan what I am about to tell you. He did not believe me. I hope you will. I found the scent after the events on Naboo. A Sith Lord had revealed himself. A Sith Lord of sufficient strength and skill that you yourself told me you thought he was more than your match in battle. Who trained him? Certainly no random Force User could teach themselves what was necessary to hold back both you and young Kenobi. So I went to the Trade Federation. It took some extreme efforts to convince them to tell me what they knew, but they revealed it. The Sith Lord you faced was named Darth Maul, and he was but the apprentice to a more powerful Sith, calling himself Darth Sidious. It was he who was behind the attack on Naboo. He who wished to destabilize the Republic.”

“As you are doing now,” Padme said.

“No. I seek to free myself and those who stand with me from the Republic’s power, for it is a republic in name only now. This Darth Sidious sought to destabilize the Republic in order to gain power. And now, from the shadows, a Sith Lord controls the levers of power in the Senate.”

“That is nonsense, Chancellor Palpatine is no Sith Lord,” Anakin said.

“I have not said he is a Sith Lord, child!” Dooku spat. “I say only that he is either a puppet of one or is a figurehead. The real power is in the hands of this Darth Sidious. I am no longer a Jedi, but I will not stand by as the Sith take over the galaxy. I will do what I must to put a stop to it, and in the end, when the corruption in the Republic has been burned away, perhaps we may all live in freedom.”

“Truth wrapped around a lie,” the voice said to Qui-Gon. The shock of hearing it again unsteadied him, and left him speechless. Dooku, seeing this, concluded it was his tale which had impacted Qui-Gon so.

“It is a lot to take in, but I wish to repeat my offer, one I already gave to young Kenobi. He refused but I hope if you agree he will come along. With the three of you with me, I know I can succeed,” Dooku said.

“The three of us? There is absolutely no way I am going to serve you!” Anakin shouted, again coming to his feet.

“You will do as your Master commands, boy, or you will be taught a firm lesson,” Dooku shouted back. Both their hands went to their sabers.

“Enough!” Qui-Gon shouted.

“You should teach your Padawan manners, Qui-Gon,” said Dooku, who clearly thought his former Padawan’s outburst had not been directed at him.

“You are lying,” Qui-Gon said. “You are lying to me, Master.”

“What?” a caught off guard Dooku said. “You would do well to remember…,”

“I said, enough,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “We will not join you. We are here for Obi-Wan. Give him to us and we will go.”

“I had hoped for more wisdom from you. Sadly, your time away from me has blinded you, as it has the other Jedi,” Dooku said while pushing a few buttons on his wristband.

“Are you going to release Obi-Wan to us?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I think perhaps you will be joining him as my guest,” Dooku said as two Droideka and a dozen battle droids entered the room. “Hand over your lightsabers.”

Qui-Gon could tell that Anakin was a moment away from attacking, but he knew that against the former Jedi Master and a room full of droids there was no way they could prevail. So he handed his lightsaber over to Dooku and ordered Anakin to do the same. When the droids proceeded to place handcuffs on them, Qui-Gon did not react. He just stared at Dooku, who scoffed and turned away.

The droids led them down to a dungeon area, where each of them got their own cell. Qui-Gon and Anakin could sense that Obi-Wan was alive and nearby, but could not figure out exactly where he was. Once in their cells, held suspended in air by a force field, each turned their mind to their situation in their own way. Anakin and Padme thought of escape, though Anakin assumed he had to escape to save Padme, and Padme thought she would have to free herself and that as a Jedi Anakin could be trusted to handle his own escape. Qui-Gon did not think of escape. His mind was taken up by two other topics. One was the Voice which had reached out to him once again, and how to contact it again. This is what he was trying to focus on. The other was the betrayal of his Master, a thought he was trying and failing to keep from his mind.

He had to clear his mind.

He had known Master Dooku since he was a boy.

He had to open himself up to the Force.

Everything he knew about the Force, Dooku had taught him.

Peace in the galaxy hinged on what was happening here.

Peace through stagnant injustice, his Master would say.

Trillions of lives spared the horrors of galactic war.

His Master could not be a part of such a thing, would not allow such a crime to occur.

He is already lost.

What? Who? Who are you? What are you?

I am no one. 

Are you one of the Priestesses?

I am alone.

Where are you?

Nowhere.

What do you want?

To save him.

Dooku?...No, Anakin.

You have prevented his fall so far, but he is not yet what he must become.

Fall? To the Dark Side? How? What did I save him from? What do you mean ‘so far?’

The darkness surrounds him. You alone illuminate his path out.

From whence comes this darkness?

The Sith.

Who? Who is the Sith Lord? Is my Master correct? The Sith control the Senate?

Palpatine.

Palpatine is controlled by the Sith? 

No.

What then? Who?

Dreaming.

What? I can’t…I can barely hear you now!

Like something out of a dream.

I don’t understand! Tell me about the Sith! Who do they control?

Who is dreaming who? Am I your dream? Are you mine?

You said before that it was Anakin. Anakin was dreaming. I don’t understand that either.

I cannot hold on. Between you and him. The gulf.

Between me and Anakin? What is this talk of dreams? I need to know about the Sith!

Do not…underestimate… do not…trust…

Who? 

Dooku….Palpatine

And then the voice was gone. Qui-Gon emerged from his meditation and his thoughts were no more certain than they had been before. But his heart was. The Force had reached out to him, and if nothing else was clear, one thing was. His Master had fallen; he was lost. Qui-Gon’s path was clear. He had to save Padme, Anakin and Obi-Wan, and he had to get them all off this world. War was coming. Whether he was trying to fight the Sith or not, his Master had colluded with assassins and tyrants. 

Qui-Gon looked around him. He was being held in place by a force field whose controls and power source he could not identify. He imagined Anakin and Obi-Wan were being held in similar restraints. Another piece of evidence that his Master had planned for war with the Jedi and the Republic; these cages were overkill for any but a Jedi.

Escape would have to come when they were moved from these rooms to another. Qui-Gon doubted that Dooku meant to keep them all here indefinitely. He did not have long to wait to be proven correct. Some Geonosians entered his cell, with a squad of battle droids backing them up, and remotely deactivated the restraints. Qui-Gon left the room with them and saw that Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme were out in front of him, each escorted by a large party of Geonosians and battle droids. Without their lightsabers, Qui-Gon doubted the three Jedi would be able to overcome their guards, and Padme would certainly die in the resulting fight. They made their way to a waiting room that seemed to exit onto the surface of Geonosis. The daylight was bright in their eyes, and it took a moment to adjust. The Geonosians seemed to be waiting for something or someone, and this provided the first chance for Qui-Gon to speak to Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan!” he whispered sharply.

“Yes, Master?” Obi-Wan whispered back.

“Are you injured?” Qui-Gon asked.

“No, Master. I feel a little weak from hanging in that cell for a day, but other than that I am fine,” Obi-Wan answered.

“I want you to help Anakin. Stay by his side and protect him,” Qui-Gon said.

“Master?” 

“Promise me, Obi-Wan. If it comes to helping me or him, you will choose him,” Qui-Gon said.

“I don’t understand,” Obi-Wan said before a droid ordered them to be quiet. Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan and waited. Obi-Wan saw in Qui-Gon’s eyes the seriousness of his request, and nodded. 

It was not long after this exchange that the droids separated Qui-Gon from the rest of his party. This seemed to take the Geonosians by surprise and there was a brief argument. From what Qui-Gon tell from their mannerisms, which was not much, the Geonosians were quite agitated by this, and it seemed for a moment the dispute might turn violent. But the droids outnumbered the Geonosians and showed no signs of backing down. Over the clicking protests of the Geonosians the droids directed Qui-Gon towards a winding stairwell while Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padme continued down a long ramp into the darkness.

Qui-Gon was quiet and calm as he climbed the stairs. He knew where they were taking him, and who was waiting for him at the top. When he reached the top of the stairs he was marched through the halls to a balcony, on which he could see his former Master, flanked by representatives of the Trade Federation on one side, and a Mandalorian on the other. Qui-Gon was walked up to the balcony.

When Dooku turned towards him and saw the manacles on his hands he frowned and shook his head.

“Remove those absurd restraints,” the Count said.

“Is that wise?” one of the Neimoidians asked.

“They achieve nothing. Qui-Gon could remove them easily,” Dooku growled.

“Could the other Jedi do the same?” the other Neimoidian asked.

“I am sure with a little effort they could,” Dooku said as he turned to glare at the droids who had not yet done as he requested. “Remove them. Now!”

“Roger, Roger,” the droid nearest Qui-Gon said.

“But if they can release themselves, how do we stop them from escaping?” the one that Qui-Gon realized was Nute Gunray said.

“Its the droids and their blasters that prevent that,” the Mandalorian said.

Qui-Gon said nothing through all of this. When the restraints were finally off he dropped his hands to his sides and looked out into the stadium. He saw three poles erected in the center of the sandy pit at its center. 

“I take it those poles are for my two apprentices and the Senator,” Qui-Gon said.

Nute Gunray’s assistant seemed about to speak, but a sharp look from Dooku silenced him. The Count walked over to Qui-Gon and said, “That can be avoided Qui-Gon.”

“How?” Qui-Gon asked, though he felt he knew the answer.

“It cannot be!” Nute Gunray shouted. “You promised us Senator Amidala would….!”

“Do not presume to command me, Viceroy!” Dooku snapped. Unnoticed by the two Neimoidians the Mandalorian’s hands had gone to his blasters, but his eyes had stayed locked on them.

“How can you be thinking of letting her go, of letting the Jedi go?” Nute Gunray said, so angry that he failed to realize the danger that Dooku losing his temper represented. 

“Because we will be releasing them to join our cause,” Dooku said, his voice smoother and calmer. “If you join me Qui-Gon, I am sure that your apprentices will follow your lead. With the Jedi she trusts most joining me, I am also confident the Senator can be prevailed upon to open her mind to the truth.”

“She humiliated me! She humiliated the entire Trade Federation!” Nute Gunray spluttered.

“I am not here to help you work through your loss of face!” Dooku barked. “I am here to address the corruption in the Republic! That effort would be helped by bringing three prominent Jedi and one of her most popular Senators into the fold!”

“If you do not give me what you promised, then I will take my battle-droids and leave!” Gunray squealed.

Dooku needed nothing but the grim and hateful expression on his face to let Jango Fett know what the situation called for. The Mandalorian pulled a blaster from his holster in a way that made an unmistakable sound and asked, “Do you think your successor will feel the same way?”

“You are just like him! Just like Lord Sidious!” a suddenly terrified Gunray said.

“Be silent!” Dooku spat at him.

“Is this to be the form that deliberation and cooperation will take in your reformed Republic, Master?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I am trying to save your life!” Dooku shouted at his apprentice. Qui-Gon had never seen his Master so overcome with emotion. The anger had almost always stayed below the surface, sneaking out from time to time when he had been provoked by injustice or disrespect. But for him to lose his temper this way, when he was trying to engage in diplomacy, was a sign of the stress he was under. It was, Qui-Gon supposed, a sign of the affection his Master still had for him. To see how desperately Dooku was holding on to their relationship, or to the memory of it, after having fallen so far only made Qui-Gon sad.

“There will be no need for that,” came a voice from the shadowed hallway, one that Qui-Gon and Dooku recognized, though the others did not. A purple flash of light from the darkness announced the arrival of Master Windu. Jango Fett quickly pulled both his blasters and the Neimodians tried to hide themselves in the fabric of their robes. Dooku’s face hardened, and his expression became icy and calm. 

“Ah…Master Windu, might I ask why you would come here alone. Surely three Jedi deserve a greater investment of resources than this,” he said as he pulled his saber from his belt.

“You are right, they do,” Windu said. Qui-Gon felt the message go out. Jedi telepathy was no precise thing. Feelings could be communicated easily, thoughts with more effort. Any complicated information was beyond the ability of the vast majority of Jedi. But Mace Windu only needed to communicate one simple idea. Now.

When Dooku saw the Jedi around the stadium light up their sabers he merely sighed. He had anticipated this possibility, but had hoped it would not be necessary. Sidious’ plan required the death of all the Jedi, but Dooku had genuinely hoped that a few would be left alive. Once turned to his purposes they could be useful, especially in Dooku’s long term goal of destroying both the Republic and Sidious. There was a place in the future he imagined for a reformed Jedi Order consisting of the strongest and the wisest, by which he meant those most likely to agree with him. But from a quick look around Dooku realized most of those he would have liked to keep alive were on Geonosis. 

“This was a foolish gesture, my old friend. You are surrounded,” Dooku said to Windu.

“We shall see,” Windu said firmly. Quicker than an eye can blink he threw a lightsaber to Qui-Gon who immediately activated it. As soon as the blue saber emerged he had to use it to block the blaster bolts Jango Fett sent his way, and so was not able to assist Mace against his former Master.

But as Dooku quickly realized, Windu had no need of Qui-Gon’s aid. Dooku pressed the attack against the younger man, hoping to finish him off before Qui-Gon dispatched the Mandalorian. Dooku had never been anything but impressed with Jango, but he had trained Qui-Gon himself. There was no chance the mercenary would repeat his performance against Kenobi, one which Dooku had been willing to write off as nothing but a combination of Kenobi’s youth and the surprise the young Jedi must have felt at being attacked by a Mandalorian.

But far from finishing Windu off quickly, Dooku found his attack swiftly turning into a defense. He had heard Windu speak of Vaapad of course, and its combination of aggression and control. He had always scoffed at these claims, sometimes to himself, sometimes to the other Masters and more than once in front of Windu. He thought a master of Makashi, such as himself, would have little difficulty dealing with the wildness of Vaapad. But Windu’s swift, sure strokes prevented Dooku from controlling the duel. Every time their blades met Dooku’s arms shook as though he was striking a powerful force field. Rather than manipulating Windu’s movements through deft footwork Dooku was more than once forced back from his position through the raw power of Windu’s attacks. To anyone but Dooku, Windu and perhaps Yoda, the duel would have appeared one between two evenly matched combatants. But, Dooku realized, those who had reached the pinnacle of lightsaber combat would know different. Sidious would realize, Dooku thought to himself, if he could see. He had sparred with his new Master on several occasions. The two of them were nearly evenly matched. It was only his Master’s superior ability to manipulate the Force directly that made one the Master and the other the Apprentice. And if all had gone to Dooku’s plan, even that gap would one day disappear, as Dooku made up for the decades-long advantage the Sith Lord had in the arts of Sith sorcery. 

But things were not going to plan. He was losing this fight. He and Windu had maneuvered each other into the hallway behind the balcony, and Dooku had not missed the fact that Windu was not afraid to take their duel farther away from Qui-Gon. It was not quite luck that the detachment of droids came to Dooku’s aid. The plan had all along contained provisions for at least some Jedi to be present on Geonosis, and Dooku’s confidence in his own abilities had not blinded him to the extent that he had failed to keep Droidekas nearby. As they came rolling up the hallway Windu broke off their duel. For a split second Dooku thought he had the opening he needed to kill Windu while his attention was absorbed with getting away before the droids could open fire, but when he struck his blade found not Mace Windu’s back, but Qui-Gon Jinn’s blade. With a few quick moves Dooku was able to nearly disarm his former Padawan, and send him falling back. For a horrifying moment Dooku could see a future in which the Droidekas, which he could hear completing their transformation from their rolling ball mode to an attack posture, opened fire on the exposed Jedi and killed him. A voice in his head snarled that it would be only what the ungrateful meddler deserved. But another voice, one that spoke with the strength of the closest feeling Dooku still had to love, silenced the murderous impulse. He moved himself between the droids and Qui-Gon, knowing that their programming would not allow them to shoot when he would be hit by the barrage. 

Qui-Gon and Mace made good use of the reprieve, retreating to the balcony where the Neimoidians still cowered uselessly. Dooku noted that Fett was nowhere to be seen as the two Jedi Masters jumped over the edge to join the other Jedi fighting on the stadium floor. He scanned the increasingly small area where the fighting was going on and eventually found his hired gun. It took Dooku a moment to realize that he was not seeing all of Jango Fett, and that he would have to keep looking to find his head. It was no matter, the Count thought, for the man had played his role in galactic affairs. The Jedi below him were pulling into a tighter and tighter circle as the numbers of droids attacking them began to overwhelm even their prodigious abilities. He would need to call on the droids to halt. If this went on much longer all the Jedi present would be killed. And that would spell disaster for his long term plans. It would leave him with no leverage against Sidious. He signalled the order to one of the command droids near him, and the electronic command quickly made its way through his army. When the blaster fire had quieted down he activated his hidden microphone and prepared to give a speech he had little hope would accomplish its aims. But he still gave it his all. Every rhetorical trick and dramatic flourish that could be marshalled would be. It was to that end that he raised his hands above his head. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He sensed the arrival of enemy reinforcements before he saw them. Or rather he sensed one enemy in particular. 

Yoda was here. He did not need to listen to Nute Gunray’s panicked reports of what the scanners of his ships were showing. The clones had arrived, just as his new Master had foreseen, and they brought his old Master with them. The stadium was of sufficient height that Dooku could not see the clone transport ships until they were almost on top of him, but he could hear them. He only saw a moment of the destruction they visited upon his droid army before he turned to make his way to the command center. The war had begun. He had successfully carried out the mission his Master had given him, and failed to lay the groundwork for his plan to supplant him. Once in the command center he retrieved the copy of the designs for the battle station the Geonosians had been working on for Sidious. It was a ridiculous idea to Dooku’s mind, but with any luck the old man would be dead long before he had a chance to implement it.

From there he made his way quickly to his personal speeder, and then into the air towards the hangar. But he was not quick enough. Several Republic gunships were tailing him, and he sent his escorts to deal with them. He was ready to put this world and his failures behind him.

Behind him, there were three gunships giving chase, a HAET-221 piloted by Qui-Gon in the lead. Obi-Wan and Anakin followed, each in their own, slower, LAAT gunships, Anakin accompanied by Senator Amidala whose protection was still his primary job. When Dooku’s two fighter escorts peeled off to engage them Qui-Gon was able to quickly and easily maneuver around them, but the gunships fell behind as they engaged the fighters. Qui-Gon kept an eye on the ship’s scanners and watched the firefight between the two Separatist fighters and two Republic gunships. After a few passes by the slower and less agile gunships the fighters disappeared from the display, but so too did one of the gunships.

“Anakin! Obi-Wan! Report!” Qui-Gon shouted into the communicator as he tried to keep Dooku in view. 

“Anakin’s gunship was hit!” Obi-Wan yelled in response. “They crash landed. The ship looks intact but the smoke makes it hard to tell.”

“Go back and pick him up. Make sure he and the Senator are safe,” Qui-Gon said.

“Master, you will need my help against Dooku,” Obi-Wan replied.

Yes he would, Qui-Gon thought. He had sparred with his Master enough times to know that he was nowhere near a match for him. Of all the Jedi only Yoda had ever been able to best Dooku. After their duel it was perhaps the case that Mace could also stand against him one on one. But Qui-Gon knew he was not on that level. Fighting with the saber had never been his focus. Fighting in general had never been his focus. He wasn’t even sure he was a better duelist than Obi-Wan anymore, and he knew with certainty that Anakin would very soon overtake them both. If it came to a fight, he would lose. All these things were true and known to Qui-Gon Jinn, but he said none of them. What he said was, “You promised me Obi-Wan.”

“Yes…Master. We will join you as soon as we can,” Obi-Wan said uncertainly. He knew exactly what Qui-Gon did. If there was any hope for his Master, it would be that words, not blades, decided matters.

Chapter Text

Chapter VII

Lost Masters

Dooku’s ship was almost prepared for departure when he saw Qui-Gon walk into the room. His former Padawan had his lightsaber in his hand, but it was not engaged. Dooku could sense the conflict in the man who was as close as he would get to a son, and he saw the advantage in it. He cursed himself as he began to speak.

“Have you come to join me, Qui-Gon?” he asked.

“No Master, I have come to stop you,” Qui-Gon said.

“You approach your enemy without your defenses up? I know you were trained better than this,” Dooku said as he stepped towards Qui-Gon.

“Are you my enemy?” Qui-Gon asked.

“You have come to stop me. You have made yourself my enemy. It was not I who wanted this,” Dooku said as he reached for his saber.

“I did not come here to fight. I came here to talk,” Qui-Gon said, taking a step back to keep his distance from the man who was as close as he would get to a father.

“What did you come to say then?” Dooku asked. The two men began to circle each other, lightsabers in their hands but still off.

“That it is not too late for you to come back with me,” Qui-Gon said.

“Come back where, my friend?” Dooku asked.

“To the Light,” Qui-Gon said.

“The light?” Dooku scoffed. “To the Jedi you mean.”

“No. Before the Jedi, the Light was there. It shines within the Order, but outside it as well. There is Light enough for you, my Master, if you turn away from this path,” Qui-Gon said.

Dooku marveled at Qui-Gon’s combination of wisdom and naivete. There was a time where such a speech would have worked. But that time had passed. The man who could have heard that appeal and been moved by it was gone. Knowing that fact, even regretting it to a degree, changed nothing materially for Dooku. It just meant that his heart was heavy when his lightsaber turned on. Qui-Gon could not hide a sadness that was free of surprise as he saw the red of Dooku’s blade and responded in kind. 

“You are a worthy Jedi in many ways, Qui-Gon, but you cannot hope to defeat me in a battle. Stand down,” Dooku said.

“I know I cannot win. I know too that cannot stand down,” Qui-Gon said as he brought his blade up beside his head, the starting stance Dooku had once taught him. Qui-Gon attacked, hitting Dooku with a quick series of blows that the Count parried deftly and effortlessly, one arm staying behind his back.

“There is no shame or dishonor in knowing your limits, Qui. None of the other Masters will hold it against you that you disengaged. What is the point in dying in a fight you cannot win?” Dooku said.

“The point is the fight, Master. To stand against injustice,” Qui-Gon said as he took a step back and readied himself for another exchange.

“Injustice? You speak to me of injustice!?!” Dooku bellowed, as he again deflected Qui-Gon’s blows. Slipping to the side as Qui-Gon lunged past him, Dooku resisted the instinct to strike from behind, an attack which would have surely killed his opponent. “You stand here playing bodyguard for all those corrupt Senators, and you dare to claim you stand against injustice?”

“And here you stand, leading the most corrupt and exploitative of the corporate powers in a war against the people of the Republic. Here you stand with a red blade. You feed me lies about opposing the Sith, when you have made yourself one,” Qui-Gon said. The two attempts to engage his former Master having gone so poorly, Qui-Gon switched the defensive stance Obi-Wan so preferred, despite how unnatural it felt.

“You think I enjoy who I have been forced to ally with? They were the only allies available. And yes, I have sought out the techniques of the Sith, for the power within them. What else could I do when I was left without anyone to help me, when I was left alone to struggle against the criminality of the Republic?” Dooku shouted, his anger rising.

“Alone? You had all the Jedi order with you. You had me, and rather than do the hard work of convincing them to change course you turned your back on them, on me. And now? Are you truly alone now? Who is this Sith Lord you told us about, Master? Who is the one who trained the Sith I faced on Naboo?” Qui-Gon said.

“So you too are blind. You too refuse to see the truth. The Republic must be purged of the millennia of parasites and bottom feeders encrusted onto it. They corrupt everything they touch. They corrupted the Jedi. They have corrupted you. They have taken you from me my friend,” Dooku said as he advanced on Qui-Gon. A series of precise, powerful strikes sent the Jedi reeling back. 

“Hold on, they are almost here,” the voice said as Qui-Gon desperately tried to survive. The defensive stance he had been using was entirely unnatural to him. If there had been time to think about his situation he would have realized the absurdity of the situation. He was not an aggressive person by nature. Ataru, the fighting form he had used since his youth, was one he had been taught by Dooku, to whom it did come naturally. But in a way Qui-Gon had always been forced to struggle against himself to employ it. It was like wearing a boot that was just a bit too big, he had to think about every motion to make sure he stuck to the proper moves. He did not fit the mold Dooku had tried to force him into, and he had only really come into his own as a Jedi when he had moved on from his Master’s teachings and forged his own path. But his fighting style, the thing that had seemed to him the least important thing he had been taught, at least until he had encountered the Sith on Naboo and almost been destroyed, was the last relic of his Master’s teaching. He had lacked Obi-Wan’s strength, to adopt and master the Form that fit him best, and lacked Anakin’s natural facility with combat. And so he was left at the mercy of the man whose insistence on making Qui-Gon into something he was not, into someone like himself, had weakened him in the first place.

But whether or not he should have been taught the way he had been was irrelevant. He had to survive, so he switched back to the Form that was most familiar. When Dooku made his next lunge, Qui-Gon was able to sidestep and counterattack simultaneously. Having gotten used to Qui-Gon’s defensive approach, Dooku was caught off guard in his attempt to block the attack and very quickly put off balance as Qui-Gon followed up with several more. As Dooku tried to right himself and get the duel back in his control, they both heard the sound of engines coming down the hallway. Both could sense the strength of the Force users headed their way and both knew what it meant. Dooku, enraged at having been put on the defensive, and afraid of what would happen when the newcomers made it to the hall, lashed out. He channelled his anger and his fear through his body and it emerged as a blast of Force Lightning from his free hand. Qui-Gon instinctually brought his blade up to block the barrage, but having just been pressing the attack he was too close to Dooku to safely lift his saber as high as he needed to in order to defend against the Sith sorcery. Dooku, acting on instinct just as much as his Padawan, saw the opening and struck, ending his lightning attack as he did so. His thrust made it under Qui-Gon’s blade as he attempted to bring it down between himself and Dooku. The redblade carved its way almost effortlessly through Qui-Gon’s midsection, burning through skin, muscle, bone, and lung. 

There was a split second of relish at his success before Dooku was consciously aware of what he had just done. He looked up into Qui-Gon’s eyes and saw surprise. At that moment he reminded Dooku of the boy sitting beneath the tree in the courtyard of the Temple, eyes wide as he studied the budding leaves. Now the eyes were closing as Qui-Gon stumbled backwards.

“No…no…no!” Dooku shouted as Qui-Gon dropped his saber and it clattered uselessly on the floor. The Jedi began to collapse and so Dooku caught him. “You fool! Why did you do this?”

“Sorry…to…dissapoint…Master,” Qui-Gon said weakly with the air that remained in his one good lung. Then his eyes rolled back behind his slowly closing lids and his body went limp. 

Dooku held onto his body for several seconds looking at Qui-Gon’s closed eyes as if he expected them to open again. Then, suddenly, the truth of the situation seemed to hit him. The Count stood up quickly, dropping Qui-Gon’s body roughly to the ground. He stared at the corpse, horrified at the stillness of it, remembering how as a boy Qui-Gon had never stopped moving, how hard it had been for him to learn that self-control. He had been so proud of himself for learning to stand and sit still the way Dooku wanted. And Dooku had been proud of his developing self-mastery. Proud of his stillness. And he was now, once again, still, but there was nothing like pride in Dooku.

A noise drew Dooku’s attention and it was not until he looked up and saw Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker that he realized it had been their gasps which he heard. Qui-Gon’s two living students saw their Master unmoving on the floor and then turned their attention to Dooku. He saw the shock in their eyes giving way to grief. Giving way to anger. In the younger of the two, he saw something else; rage. Hate. He could feel the Force flowing through them. In Kenobi it was strong but precise and controlled, like steam whistling out of a pot. But Skywalker’s power in the Force was wild, a roiling, boiling mass barely contained. Dooku re-activated his lightsaber, and adopted his preferred stance for fighting multiple opponents. 

“Together,” Obi-Wan said, his voice shaking. Skywalker looked for a moment like he was going to ignore the Jedi Knight, but after a quick look at Qui-Gon’s body the boy set his jaw and nodded. They separated, trying to attack him in a way where he could not defend against both at once. But this played into Dooku’s hands. He quickly shot Force Lightning at Skywalker, who paused his approach and barely got his blade up in time to block. Dooku took the opportunity to step towards Kenobi in a way that surprised the Jedi, who anticipated Dooku would be taking a purely defensive approach. Dooku cut off the flow of lightning towards Skywalker just in time to parry a slashing attack from Kenobi. Dooku quickly maneuvered around Kenobi so that the Jedi was between Skywalker and Dooku, negating their attempt to attack him from both sides.

But that small victory would be his only one. Even keeping them both close enough to each other that he could defend against them simultaneously did not change the fundamental facts. Kenobi was close to mastery of the defensive Soresu form, and though Dooku felt confident that he could have defeated him one on one, there was no chance to penetrate his defenses with Skywalker’s powerful attacks coming his way. The boy was channeling so much Force power through his body with each slash and thrust that Dooku had been several times almost knocked off his feet as he backpedaled. And the few times he was able to turn Skywalker’s blade or get the boy off balance he was unable to capitalize on the victory by timely protection from Kenobi.

Dooku was still thinking of how to extricate himself from his situation when Kenobi surprised him by leaving an opening in his defenses. Without thinking of anything but the kill Dooku thrust towards the Jedi’s midsection, but before his arm reached full extension Skywalker’s blade came down on his forearm. Dooku had a puzzled expression on his face as he watched his hand, still holding his blade, fall to the floor. Before he could draw breath to shout in pain he felt a sudden and bone breaking pressure on his chest as both Jedi Force pushed him. Dooku’s body shot up and away from them and hit the rocky wall behind him with such strength that the Count was unconscious when he, like his lost forearm, bounced on the floor.

Anakin and Obi-Wan took a moment to catch their breath before they both turned towards Qui-Gon’s body. They walked without saying a word to it and knelt. Anakin took Qui-Gon’s hand and began to cry, while Obi-Wan brushed the hair off his old Master’s face. It was then that Yoda entered the room. The diminutive Jedi Master sighed sadly at the scene he beheld, but otherwise stayed silent, allowing Kenobi and Skywalker their moment of shared grief. Padme Amidala entered the room shortly after him, having waited only on Yoda’s orders to not enter if she heard any clashing sabers. She did her best to console Anakin, while Obi-Wan, at Yoda’s bidding, joined him in watching over the still living Dooku. It was not long before the surviving members of the Council joined them. 

Once enough members had arrived to qualify as a quorum, Mace Windu walked over to Anakin and said, with a voice as gentle as the gruff Master was capable of, “There is a basecamp where we have set up places for Jedi to recover and rest, young Skywalker. And there is a place for the fallen there. Where they can be prepared for transport to Coruscant. Where we will honor them.”

Anakin looked up at him uncomprehended, his grief clouding his understanding. Seeing this, Windu continued, “You were his Padawan. It is fitting for you to serve as his honor guard. Clone troopers are waiting outside to accompany you. We have control of the skies. Perhaps the Senator can accompany you. It would be a good thing to have a formal representative of the Republic at the basecamp.”

Anakin nodded and got to his feet. Several clones approached from the corridor with a stretcher. Windu turned to them. 

“The Jedi Council will be holding a meeting here. Set up a perimeter around this position. This Jedi Knight…,” he paused a beat to allow Anakin to absorb his words before continuing, “needs an escort to the basecamp. The Senator and this fallen Jedi Master will be going with him. I trust your ship can accommodate them.”

“Yes sir!” the lead clone said sharply. “It would be an honor, sir!”

Anakin bowed before Master Windu and departed with Padme and the clones, who had placed Qui-Gon’s body on the floating stretcher. Windu bowed in return, and as Anakin went to leave he saw Obi-Wan smiling sadly at him, the pride on his face tempered by his regret that Qui-Gon had not lived to see Anakin knighted.

Windu rejoined the other Masters and Ki-Adi Mundi asked, “Is it wise to make him a Knight? He seemed quite overcome by his emotions.”

“The loss of a Master is difficult for any Padawan. The point to note here is that his emotions did not get the better of him. He controlled them,” Windu said with some annoyance in his voice.

“Do we know that?” Ki-Adi said, refusing to let the point go.

“Dooku would be dead if he hadn’t,” Obi-Wan said with a cracking voice.

“I cannot imagine a more difficult test for him to pass for his Knighthood,” Kit Fisto said.

“Still,” Ki-Adi said, “We had not voted on it.”

“Do you want to call for a vote?” Windu asked. He respected Mundi, but found him occasionally unbearable. 

“Oh no, I just wished to remind everyone of protocol,” Ki-Adi said.

“A weightier, more difficult decision, we have to make,” Yoda said, settling matters.

“Yes, we must decide what to do with Dooku,” Windu said.

“I think I will join Anakin at the basecamp,” Obi-Wan said. “I leave you to your deliberations, Masters.”

“Have you stay we would, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said.

“Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You were here with Qui-Gon, and you discovered the clones. We need your input,” Windu said.

“I see,” Obi-Wan said.

“And, it would be good for you to get used to Council meetings,” Windu continued.

Seeing Obi-Wan’s shocked look, Yoda said, “Long since past time when a Padawan you should take, Obi-Wan.”

“More Masters than Qui-Gon fell today, and there are Padawans not yet ready for Knighthood in need of a Master,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“And when you bring one of them to their tests, you will be ready to join the ranks of Master, and this Council,” Windu said.

“I don’t know what to say,” Obi-Wan said.

“Your advice we seek,” Yoda said.

“Well in that case, I think we need to get some answers out of Dooku quickly, before his capture becomes common knowledge,” Obi-Wan said.

“Why before?” Windu asked. 

“Dooku told us there was a Sith Lord controlling the Senate and something about it rang true. And I can’t help but think about that voice Qui-Gon was hearing. For the Force itself to manifest that way, when it had only done so for him when we found Anakin in the first place, and when the Sith revealed themselves, that means what was happening here was important. More important than one fallen Jedi and the beginning of some rebellion by the corporate powers,” Obi-Wan answered.

“This will be no small rebellion. Without the clone army we would have all died here,” Windu said.

“I know that. But the existence of the clone army just contributes to my sense that there is something here we are missing. Jango Fett spoke of being hired by some man named Tyrannus. Who is this person who is paying for whole armies and then leaving them for us to find? Why is the Force treating this as such an important moment? We need answers, and we need them quickly,” Obi-Wan said.

“I think we know who has the answers,” Yaddle said. 

Yoda nodded sadly, knowing what they would have to do. “Medical attention we must seek for him first. Strenuous and harmful the procedure is. Lose him we could.”

“What procedure is this?” Obi-Wan asked.

“An old one, not used for some time. The Force can do terrible things to the mind. The Count’s mind will have no secrets from us. Whether it contains anything else when we are done is less certain. But Master Yoda is right. He must be stronger before we do it,” Windu explained. 

Under the direction of the Jedi, clone troopers converted Dooku’s private hangar into a medical bay. Once the Count had been made strong enough the interrogation began. From the outside, for any non-Force sensitive witness like the clones, it appeared to be Dooku seated and silent in the center of the circle of the equally silent Jedi Council. But for any Jedi near the hangar it would have seemed like a battle was going on inside, for in a way there was. Dooku had erected barriers in his mind to keep its contents safe from any unwanted attention, and one by one they were all brought down, crumbling before the combined will of the Jedi Council.

It was almost a full day after the battle of Geonosis when the Count’s secrets had all been surrendered. The plot to start a war, the recruitment of Sifo-Dyas, the creation of the clones, the chips to control them, and, last of all, the identity of his Master. When it had become clear that Dooku’s defenses were weakening and all would be revealed soon, two groups of Jedi departed Geonosis. Obi-Wan and Yaddle made their way to Kamino, to force the Kaminoans to tell them how to deactivate the inhibitor chips in the clones, who had been left on Geonosis in camps free of any Jedi. Mace Windu and the newly knighted Anakin traveled to Coruscant, at first to inform the Chancellor, but then, after receiving the transmission from Geonosis, to arrest him. The mission to Kamino was a success, and within a few days Republic officials were able to free the existing clones from the control system the Kaminoans had, under Dooku’s direction, put in place. New clones, something that the necessities of the new war forced the Senate to order, were grown without the chips in place, in a Kamino that was under Republic occupation and supervision.

But the mission to Coruscant was a failure. By the time Windu and Skywalker arrived Chancellor Palpatine was already gone. His aides insisted they had known nothing of his plans, and though the Jedi knew this was false, it did turn out that they had been privy to no further secrets of Palpatine’s. Where he had gone, and what he intended to do next was a mystery that at first dominated all the discussions of the Council, and the politics of the Republic. But as the war went on, it came to be less of a focus, until eventually it was the primary goal of only Anakin and Obi-Wan. All through the war, when their duties permitted, they searched, Anakin on his own, and Obi-Wan with his Padawan Ahsoka Tano with him. The war lasted two years. In the tight first few months the Jedi were able to take the small force of clones at their disposal and mount heroic defenses of key outposts. But the combination of the growing Republican army and fractured leadership amongst the CIS eventually allowed Anakin and Obi-Wan to lead simultaneous successful attacks on the Trade Federation and Banking Clan homeworlds, making them the two most famous Jedi in centuries.

This fame meant that at the ceremony formally ending the war, Obi-Wan and Anakin were given pride of place. Yoda and Mace Windu were still the formal leaders of the Jedi, but both agreed that in a celebration of victory it should be the two Jedi who, more than any others, had led the Republic’s forces that should serve as the face of the Order. Chancellor Bail Organa oversaw the proceedings of course, with his two most trusted political allies, Mon Mothma and Padme Amidala accompanying him. The revelation of Palpatine’s duplicity had set Padme’s career back somewhat. As they both hailed from Naboo it was hard for many to believe that she was not involved in his plots. The steadfast support she received from Jedi had seen her through the war years, and in time people had remembered that she had been the most steadfast opponent of entering the war that Palpatine had schemed to create. 

Bail’s speech was short but inspiring. It was broadcast across a grateful galaxy, but the audience in attendance were the brave clone soldiers. Through the efforts of Senators Amidala and Mothma there was already a plan in place to muster them out of service, and planets for them to settle on. These were primarily planets ravaged by the war, planets where their hard work would heal and rebuild, and where their camaraderie could continue. When the speech was done they cheered, but when the cheering was done they turned their heads to where Skywalker and Kenobi stood, so they could give one last salute to their Generals.

After the ceremony a party was held in the Senate. Politicians mingled with officers of the Grand Army of the Republic, both cloned and natural. While she had not been invited to the formal ceremony Obi-Wan had arranged for Ahsoka to attend this gathering, and she was tearfully saying her goodbyes. Obi-Wan was an object of great attention. Due to being the more gregarious of the pair of Jedi Generals, and to his having achieved some level of fame before the war began, it was natural that the politicians in the crowd gravitated towards him. Their way of thinking left them certain that Kenobi was going to be the next leader of the Order. The younger and more serious Skywalker was certainly an able man, and would likely take over after Kenobi had his time, but they could not see such a resolutely withdrawn young man as a leader.

There was one exception to this of course, and Padme found her way to Anakin after having completed her rounds of the assembled politicians and media personalities. She had seen him from time to time over the years, but this last interval had been the longest. He seemed taller, and he was certainly larger. The lean frame of the young man had been replaced by a still athletic, but more muscular frame. And he had let his hair grow long, past his ears, and down to his shoulders.

“Hello, Ani,” she said.

He returned her greeting with a nod and a formal, “Hello Senator.’

“I am so glad to see you. I was worried when I heard you were attacking Cato Neimodia with such a small force,” she said.

“It gave us the element of surprise. They knew about Obi-Wan’s build up of forces to attack the Banking Clan, and they had shifted their defenses accordingly. We were able to sneak into their space and attack before they knew we had left our forward outposts,” Anakin explained.

“I understand the tactics, Anakin. I am on the Senatorial working group that oversees the war. I saw them before you set out. I was just saying I was worried about you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Anakin nodded and said, “I thank you…for your concern.”

Padme grimaced slightly at the clearly forced nature of his cool response. “Where are you off to now?”

“We are going to find Palpatine,” he said resolutely.

“You and Obi-Wan?” she asked.

“There will be others, but yes, we will start the search.”

“From what Clone Intelligence has told me, that could take some time. They have no leads at all,” she said.

“They scoured Naboo looking for clues,” Anakin said flatly.

“Yes. Was that a mistake?” 

“I do not mean to speak ill of the Clones or the other Intelligence officers, but there are things about the Sith that only a Jedi will understand,” Anakin said.

“Where will your search start?” 

“It has already begun. The Archives have been searched for all that we know about the Sith and their methods. But Obi-Wan and I will begin on Korriban,” Anakin said. Padme raised an eyebrow and Anakin explained, “Morraband on contemporary charts. It was the Sith homeworld.”

“How long do you expect the search to take?” Padme asked.

“We don’t know. We don’t know where he is hiding. We don’t know his plans. It could be a long time,” Anakin answered.

Padme nodded. For a moment they were silent, hoping the other would broach the issue on both their minds. 

“How is your mother?” Padme asked.

“She is doing well. The war passed Tatooine by for the most part,” Anakin said. “But that also means I haven’t been there in some time.”

“I often think of those days we had on Tatooine. I hope your hunt will not keep you away long…from those you love,” Padme said. 

“I think about them too,” Anakin said. He paused, working up the will to do what he knew must be done. “I am afraid my duties as a Jedi will keep me away.”

“Is that what you want?” Padme asked.

“There are many things I have wanted. But war is a good teacher, and I know now that no one gets all they want. You must choose a path, and find what happiness you can on it,” Anakin said.

“And what is it that you are after now? Where does this path take you?” Padme asked.

“I don’t want Qui-Gon to have died for no reason,” Anakin said.

“He didn’t. He foiled Palpatine’s plans. The war would have been so much worse if he had not stopped Dooku from escaping,” Padme said. 

“I mean…I can’t leave the Order. I was his Padawan, his last Padawan. I know that after he found me he understood his purpose in the Order to be training me. I can’t let that be for nothing.”

“So from now on your life is just service to his memory? I know you owe him, Ani. I know he was like a father to you. And you, and everyone else in the Republic, should honor his memory, because of the sacrifice he made for us. For us to be able to live our lives freely,” she implored him.

“Yes, he did. And the one sacrifice is not enough. For the many to live free, the sacrifice must be made again and again. If no one carries on, doing as he did, then all he did will be wasted.”

Padme heard the finality in his voice, knew that she was hearing an answer that had been thought over and worked out before she ever asked the question. She knew she could not change his mind. And despite the thoughts, hopes and dreams that had dominated her mind whenever she found time to dwell on her own desires over the previous two years, she was not even sure she wanted him to do so. The Anakin of her memories had been so conflicted, a boy scared of the world, despite his power. The Anakin before her was a man who knew his purpose, and understood the costs of it.

“The Republic will be proud to have such a defender. But not as proud as I am of my friend,” Padme said as she pushed some hair hanging across his brow back behind his ear. “Even if it always makes me a little sad.”

“Well…at least I have some company,” he said with a sad smile. They bowed to each other, and when Padme turned around she saw Obi-Wan had been behind her, far enough back that he would not have heard what had been said, but close enough to watch them. He looked away from the tears he saw forming in Padme’s eyes and walked towards Anakin, who was watching Padme walk away. 

She turned back after Kenobi passed her, and saw that as he neared Anakin the younger man nodded in response to some unheard, perhaps unspoken, question. Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, before turning his head to look at Padme. When they locked eyes he smiled apologetically. Then he turned back to Anakin, patted him on both shoulders and said, “Ready?”

Anakin straightened up and the two men began their walk towards the exits. The hunt had begun.

Chapter Text

Chapter VIII

All in Vain

Anakin and Obi-Wan spent the first few years after the war in a relentless search for Palpatine. Joining them were Ahsoka Tano and Anakin’s Padawan, Sors Bandeam. Ahsoka Tano was not able to proceed to Knighthood quite as quickly as the Jedi Council had intended, but it was not long after the end of the war that Obi-Wan was made a Master and seated on the Council. Sors Bandeam’s much longer Padawanship gave Anakin years to devote to the hunt for the former Chancellor and Sith Lord. But whether searching on their own or with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s help, no trace of Palpatine’s location was ever found. They were able to discover and destroy many of the secret projects he had started as Chancellor. Some were related to cloning, some to recovering lost Sith knowledge, and some to advanced physics of energy. Each of them showed signs of still being under Palpatine’s direction, but no one working there could say where he was. They received their orders from emissaries who came from they knew not where. And so it was that the Jedi knew Palpatine was still alive, somewhere in the shadows, and still trying to carry out his plot to destroy the Republic and the Jedi.

But after years of searching with no luck, the Order eventually prevailed upon Anakin to return to Coruscant. Bandeam had turned out to be a conscientious and diligent Padawan, even if he lacked the flair and ambition of his master, and he was able to take his trials at a fairly young age. Anakin himself was made Master before he turned forty, and as he was obviously the most powerful Jedi alive, a place was made for him on the Council.

           And so it was that after years of taking part in the governance of the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala met on a walkway outside of the Galaxies Opera House. They had maintained their friendship over the years, though Anakin’s long absence from Coruscant combined with Padme’s long residence there had prevented them from seeing much of each other.

           Anakin had exited the performance that evening, unable to enjoy the splendor due to the stressful decision that had been placed before him the day before. He had been watching the cars and ships fly by for the better part of a quarter hour, trying to lose himself in the display of lights as he could not in the story being told in the building behind him. He was partly successful, for he did not notice Padme’s approach until she had nearly reached him. The click of her heels on the floor was the first sound he heard, the swish of her silken dress being lost in the general noise of Coruscant’s traffic. He turned his head to the sound and once again failed to maintain his composure upon seeing her, a failing he had given up fighting against. She smiled as she came close and gave the slightest nod of her head to Anakin before taking up a spot next to him and looking out onto the skyline.

           “The show was not to your taste, Master Jedi?” Padme asked playfully. They had spoken infrequently over the years, but had seen more of each other over the last few months since Anakin had joined the Council. It had not taken long for them to fall into the easy familiarity of their younger days. Or rather, it was easy for Padme. Anakin still could not help feeling slightly uncomfortable in her presence.

           “The show is wonderful, as always, Chancellor,” Anakin said. She had won election to the position vacated by an aging Bail Organa not long after Anakin’s return to Coruscant.

           “You just have a lot on your mind,” Padme said.

           “Is it that obvious?” Anakin asked.

           “Is what obvious? That Master Yoda and Master Windu are stepping down from the Council and they have both nominated you to replace them as Master of the Order?” Padme said nonchalantly.

           Anakin looked at her, stunned by the fact that she knew of what he had only found out in a closed session of the Council the day before.

           “Don’t be so shocked, Anakin. The Chancellor needs to have sources of information inside the Order, and something like that can’t stay secret for long,” she said as she turned around and leaned back, placing her elbows on the railing. Anakin tried his best not to let his eyes linger on the way her dress fell across her body.

           “You have spies on the Council?” Anakin asked, his voice tight.

           “Not really, no. What you have, or are about to have is a Council full of old men who have loose lips around others in the Temple. And I do have people in the Temple who think it is good for the civilian government to have some idea of what is going on with the Jedi,” Padme said, smirking slightly.

           “I suppose that isn’t…terrible,” Anakin said.

           “I shall count the day a success, in that I rendered the most powerful man in the galaxy temporarily speechless,” Padme said with a grin.

           “I am hardly the most powerful man in the galaxy,” Anakin said.

           “That isn’t what the emissary from the Chiss says,” Padme responded.

           “Mitth'raw'nuruodo?” Anakin asked.

           “Yes, he was apparently impressed enough with your performance at the battle of Hoxim that he insisted the Chiss state not continue offensive operations against the Republic. When they didn’t listen he organized a coup against his own government. We have a brand new ally now because of you,” Padme said.

           “And a new enemy,” Anakin said darkly.

           “Mitthraw…Thrawn says he thinks the Grysk are going to be hesitant to attack us as long as there is a chance you will be part of any battle,” Padme said. “You must have made quite an impression.”

           “It is all in my report,” Anakin said. There had been a time when he would have been thrilled to show off his power to Padme, but experience had tempered that eagerness. “We weren’t even expecting to find the Chiss there.”

           “Another of Skywalker and Kenobi’s investigations of the Unknown Regions?” Padme asked.

           “We haven’t found any trace of Palpatine in the Republic, so it makes sense to look outside of it,” Anakin answered.

           “And?” Padme asked.

           “Still nothing,” Anakin said.

           “Are you hesitant to accept this promotion because you want to continue the hunt?” Padme asked.

           “I don’t know. Obi-Wan will keep looking, so it's not like the hunt will stop,” Anakin said.

           “Then why haven’t you accepted yet,” she asked.

           “I don’t know if I am ready for a position like that,” Anakin said.

           “A position like what?” she asked.

           “Leadership,” he said.

           “You’ve been leading people into battle for years,” she reminded him.

           “It’s not the same. I was carrying out orders during the Separatist war. And in the hunt for the Sith it was the same. I wasn’t responsible for everyone in the Order,” Anakin said. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

           “You adjust. You find people to rely on who can help you carry the load,” Padme said. “Bail helped me a lot in my first year as Chancellor. Mon Mothma has been a huge help since. Rush for a while in the middle. I am sure it will be the same for you. You can ask Windu and Yoda for help when you need, and you will always have Obi-Wan. I guess you won’t have someone like Rush Clovis there for you. Not sure I would wish that on you.”

           “I was sorry to hear of your divorce,” Anakin said.

           “Were you?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow.

           Anakin let the question hang in the air for a moment, refusing to acknowledge the implication. He then responded carefully, “Of course. I was sorry that you and your children had to go through that. I hear it can be a very difficult process, emotionally.”

           Padme nodded and said, “I was more than ready for it, by the end. Luke and Leia weren’t, but they have dealt with it well.”

           Anakin had heard the names of Padme’s children with Rush Clovis before. This time, however, their names affected him differently. They caught in his mind like he remembered them, like they meant something. But there was nothing for him to recall, just an awareness of an absence, and emptiness.

           “Their names, how did you choose them?” Anakin asked.

           “They are family names. I have liked them since I was a girl. Luckily I had one of each, so I got to use them both,” Padme said. “Why did you ask?”

           “I just wondered whether they had some significance, some meaning on Naboo,” Anakin said, still unable to scratch the mental itch he found himself with.

           “Not that I know of. Did you ever have names you liked when you were a child?” Padme asked.

           “I didn’t really think about what I would name my children when I was a boy,” Anakin answered.

           “What about since then?” she asked as she turned back towards the horizon.

           “Maybe once, long ago,” Anakin said, thinking of their days on Tatooine after finding his mother.

           “Long ago? We aren’t that old Anakin,” she said.

           “We are older than we were,” he said. He was aware of the rapidity of his heartbeat, forcing him to acknowledge his excitement at how much closer they were dancing to speaking openly about what had always been subtext.

           “Yes we are. And all those years, and all they contained, did they change things for you? Of course they did. They had to. They changed things for me. In so many ways I don’t feel or think the way I used to…but not all ways,” she said. “Do you feel what you used to feel?”

           “Dreams don’t change the way things are,” he said.

           “What do you call a dream that refuses to die? That all your choices cannot kill,” she asked.

           “I don’t know,” Anakin said.

           “Me neither, but I wonder if it isn’t a dream. Maybe it’s knowledge. Maybe it is you knowing there was something you were supposed to do, someone you were supposed to be,” Padme said.

           “Destiny?” Anakin asked.

“Maybe,” she answered, her eyes turning from the endless river of lights in the sky towards the man next to her.

“You’ve been thinking about this, I take it,” he responded.

           “From time to time,” Padme said. “And you?”

           “Yes, but not just from time to time,” Anakin said.

           Padme smiled. “I wondered. And then I thought, soon we will be the two most powerful people in the galaxy, with nothing left to prove, and a lot of life left to live.”

           “Our power does not free us from our duty. It is our duty, the rules that constitute our positions, that give us that power,” Anakin said.

           “There are no rules in my position that I am thinking of breaking. And your rules…well they were different once weren’t they? Someone in your position once suggested changing them so that some of the ordinary parts of life were denied to you, and the Council agreed,” Padme said. “That which is the result of a decision can be undone by another decision.”

           Anakin thought about her suggestion, unsure how to respond. He could not imagine how it would work for his first proposal as Master of the Order to be the loosening of millennia old restrictions on attachment. Such a move would have to come as the result of years of philosophical debate about the nature of the Force and the role of the Jedi, otherwise it would face implacable resistance. But at the same time, the seeming impossibility did not clear the thought from his mind. Its inherent attractions were too great.

           “I am not saying anything needs to happen this moment, Ani,” Padme said, as though she could read his thoughts. “But we deserve a chance at happiness. It is not betrayal of the Republic or Jedi if we give that a thought from time to time.”

           “Yes, we do,” Anakin said with a chuckle.

           “Are you laughing at me?” Padme said without anger in her voice.

           “No, I am just thinking of how angry young Anakin Skywalker would be at this old man for resisting his fondest wish,” he said.

           “Ah, the wisdom of youth,” Padme said as she stepped forward and slipped her hand gently into his. For a moment they looked at each other in silence, and it would have appeared to anyone watching that they were about to kiss. But their dreams were brought to an end by the loud beeping of two devices, one in Anakin’s cloak and one in Padme’s dress. The tones and rhythm of each device were different, but their meaning was unmistakable. They were emergency messages. And the fact that the Chancellor of the Republic, and a Master of the Jedi Council were each getting them boded very poorly indeed.

           Padme opened a line of communication first, turning on the communicator, and thereby silencing the repetitive warning sound. Anakin looked into the night sky for a moment, feeling a wave of Dark side power coming from the space around Coruscant. It was a presence he had felt before, though now altered. Palpatine, but without disguise.

           “Chancellor!” a voice cried out at Padme. “A large object has come out of hyperspace above the planet!”

           “What kind of object?” Padme asked.

           “We don’t know. If it is a ship, it is the largest ship I have ever seen. 30 times as long as a Venator. But it has incredibly powerful force fields and Admiral Yularen thinks it is some kind of weapon,” the Republican officer said.

           “Is Admiral Yularen there?” Padme asked.

           “Yes ma’am, I will patch him through,” the officer said.

           Anakin started his own discussion with the Jedi on duty at the Temple, and was receiving similar information.

           “Padme,” Anakin said. “Forward your feed to my device, so we can all talk at once.”

           “Will do,” she said hurriedly, her tone sharp and businesslike now that the romance of their previous conversation was gone.

           “Admiral Yularen here,” came a voice from Anakin’s communicator.

           “Admiral, I have Master Skywalker with me, as well as members of the Jedi Council on the line. Can you tell us why you think it's a weapon?”

           “Master Skywalker will remember some of the designs we captured on Count Dooku’s device at the battle of Geonosis. There were early Geonosian plans for a super weapon, a weapon that was meant to destroy whole planets,” Yularen said.

           “I do. Is that what this is?” Anakin asked.

           “Not quite. That was a sphere, and this is more of a cylinder. It is smaller but the front of the cylinder, the side facing Coruscant looks like the large radial dish on those schematics,” Yularen said.

           “What is it doing now?” Padme asked.

           “It appears to be moving into firing position,” Yularen said.

           “Attack! Hit it with everything we have,” Padme commanded.

           “We will, but most of our ships are on patrol and will not be able to arrive here for hours. I don’t know how this thing got through the scanner outposts,” Yularen said.

           “Treachery,” Anakin said. “Palpatine still has agents in the Republic government. We’ve always suspected that.”

           “There will be time for finding fault later,” Padme said. “We need to start planning evacuations.”

           “Of the whole planet?” Anakin asked. “That would take months.”

           “I recommend the Jedi and Senate leave the planet now,” Yularen said. “If this is a planet-killing weapon we will need our command and control intact to make an effective counter-assault.”

           Anakin looked away from Padme and the communicator towards the sky. “I can see it.”

           “Where?” Padme asked, turning around to see.

           “That darkness there. Centax-1 should be there. It's between us and the moon. It's blocking the entire moon,” he said while pointing.

           As the two of them watched, eight points of green light appeared in the darkness.

           “It is too late,” a mournful voice said in Anakin’s mind.

           Lines of green light emanated from the eight points to merge into a brilliant orb of fire between them. Then a line shot from it down towards the horizon. They did not see the initial explosion, as the point of contact was a quarter of the way around the planet. It was far enough away that the sound from the explosion itself would never reach them, because the planet collapsed before any waves of air could cover the distance. But their last few moments did not pass in silence. The sound travelled through the rock and magma of the planet in all directions, along with the wave of energy that was shattering it. The Opera House shook, then began to come apart. In the distance Anakin could see the Jedi Temple collapsing in on itself shortly before the thousands of levels of the city beneath it disintegrated and fell towards a ground that was itself breaking into pieces.

The screeching and crash of the metal of the buildings and the streets made it impossible for them to speak to one another in the seconds they had left. So they reached out to take each other’s hand as the inferno came up from beneath them. The last thing Anakin saw before the fire took him was Padme’s face, terror stricken and sad. He felt the heat for a second, and involuntarily closed his eyes. When he opened them again he saw only the unchanging, unblinking stars of the World Between Worlds.

Chapter Text

Chapter IX

The Horrors of Eternity

Anakin woke up again in the World Between Worlds. As happened every time, he was confused for a few seconds at first. The attempts never ended well, and he brought his fear, his anger, his hatred, whatever emotion which had filled the last few moments of his most recent life, with him back to reality. Rey knew she had to wait it out, and that doing so in silence was the best route. Hundreds of lives, hundreds of failures, had taught her much that Anakin forgot each time he went through a gate. He would regain his memories once the gate closed and died behind him, he always did. But the last life he lived was also always most present in his mind, the other attempts all fading into the background like barely remembered dreams. In many ways the thousands upon thousands of years had left him still young as he was when they entered.

But Rey had become old. She had no body left to feel the pains of that age, but her soul was old as no human being had ever been before. She had seen each life, and remembered each life, that Anakin had lived. Some had been short as a few months, and some had been long, like the thirty years she had just watched go by.

Anakin rolled himself onto his back and looked around, still not recognizing where he was, or what he had been doing. His breathing slowed as the realization dawned and after a minute or so he pushed himself up and looked for Rey. 

“It did not work,” she said to him when his eyes found her.

“It was a good idea. You shouldn’t blame yourself,” he said.

“I don’t,” she replied.

“Do you blame me?” he asked as he stood up.

“No.”

“Do you think it is worth another try? I was better that time. I died clean and honorable,” Anakin said.

“And yet you died. I don’t think a clean and honorable Anakin Skywalker can do what must be done. I think Palpatine will always be too scared of you that way. He will never let you close enough to get to him,” Rey said.

“Maybe if we go again I can find him. You could lead me to Exegol,” he suggested.

“How? To lead you through the barrier? No human being can remember the path through, that is why they created the wayfinders,” Rey said. Before Anakin could answer, she continued, “I am tired, Anakin.”

“Yes, of course,” he said stiffly. 

He wants to go again right away, she thought. She was not surprised. Most of their attempts had given him a chance to be with Padme for longer than he had in reality. This one had not, up until the last few minutes. Thirty years of hopeless longing, and one moment of beauty before death took him once again. She understood why it was hard to let go. But his difficulties did not erase her own. She needed to be away from this place, this prison with infinite doors, none of which she could walk through. There was only one way out for her, one place she could go. Mortis.

There Anakin would not follow her. He hated Mortis and the beings that lived within it. When the weariness of her long and lonely vigils became too much for her, she would return there and he would wander the World Between Worlds. He needed time to think about what had happened to him in the possible worlds he had left behind, and she needed time away from Anakin Skywalker. Her own life had been short, and she had left it behind in her forties. It had been followed by thousands of years of watching him, and had grown impossibly sick of him and his recurrent failures. Over and over again he placed his personal interests ahead of the interests of the galaxy. Over and over again his pride and his desperate need for approval had left him prey either to Palpatine or to violent overreaction to Palpatine. 

She had seen him become Darth Vader hundreds of times. Sometimes he was horribly injured by Obi-Wan and sometimes Obi-Wan fell on Mustafar. Those were the worst. She had watched a healthy and whole Anakin Skywalker become a monster far worse than the histories of the actual world revealed. Those lives always ended either with a failed overthrow of Palpatine, or, even worse, a successful overthrow of Palpatine. It turned out that an Anakin Skywalker in full possession of his power and with years of Sith training was far worse for the galaxy than the Emperor had been. In most of those worlds Luke and Leia were forced to kill him, but that was not always a blessing. Very often in worlds where Anakin defeated Obi-Wan, the twins grew up with him, sometimes with a miserable Padme, sometimes not. And usually they killed him as part of their own attempt to take control of the Empire. What happened after they succeeded in killing their father Rey never saw. The worlds always died when Anakin did. 

In one particularly horrible attempt at fixing the universe Anakin had fallen to the Dark Side and succeeded in the ages long quest of the Sith to achieve immortality. It had taken hundreds of years but Rey eventually succeeded in driving him mad with her whispers in his mind, leading him and more and more dangerous quests for talismans of power she had conjured up for him. He had eventually died trying to penetrate to the center of Ilum to retrieve a Kyber crystal that did not exist. But before Rey had managed that he had already consumed hundreds of planets as part of the process necessary to keep himself alive. They had taken a much longer break after that attempt, and Rey had spent years away from him in Mortis. To her surprise when she returned to the World Between Worlds, it had seemed to Anakin only a few days had passed.

In some ways this last failure had been worse, however. Their early attempts had focused on getting Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Knight, to see Palpatine as he was, and oppose him. So they had sent his spirit back to the days around the end of the Clone Wars. In Anakin’s mind that was where everything went wrong. But those almost always ended in an Anakin who fell to the Dark Side in an attempt to destroy the Sith, rather than through joining them. Then they had tried to intervene earlier, stopping the Clone Wars from happening at all, or changing the direction they took. Anakin had insisted that going further back would be pointless, for what could he do as a child? In his mind all the galaxy needed was for him to make better decisions at the key moments of his life. But the tenuous connection Rey had to Anakin’s mind could not compete with Palpatine’s presence, or with the bitterness towards the Jedi that Anakin still refused to admit had started long before the Clone Wars.

It had taken many more attempts before Rey had convinced Anakin they needed to try to prevent him from marrying Padme in the first place. It had not been a pleasant series of conversations, and Rey had once again retreated to Mortis to free herself of Anakin’s anger. That was one of the few times he had come after her there, though from Rey’s perspective it had taken more than a year for him to do so. His re-appearance had led to another confrontation with the Son, a battle that was even more one sided than their first. The techniques Anakin learned in the alternate worlds stayed with him, and his power with the Force in Mortis and the World Between Worlds had become frightening to behold.

But he had come to agree with Rey, not compel her to try things his way, a fact which did nothing to mollify the Son, whose hatred of this mysterious visitor increased each time he was forcibly reminded of his existence. This hatred found its way to Rey because of her association with him, making it unsafe for her to stay in Mortis except in the company of the Daughter. It was to her palace that Rey was headed. There was a door in the World Between Worlds that was unlike the others. She had only to step through it and she would find herself in the delightful and peaceful courtyard of her friend. She reached it and looked back for Anakin, but he was gone. She never knew where he went and what he did. What worlds did he look out onto? What moments did he steal for himself in the quiet of that place. She never asked. She had seen enough of his soul.

Rey stepped through the door and into the light of the sun. She had often wondered what that sun was. Was Mortis contained within the structure Anakin had described to her? Or was that an illusion? Was Mortis a place at all? The inability of its residents to leave suggested it was not. But it felt real, as did the beings within it, and just then Rey did not require more. Moving through the doorway had caused her to appear in the top room of a tower that the Daughter had constructed over the years. This was purposeful of course. Every time she returned to Mortis the Son was more erratic and dangerous than the time before. It was not wise to be caught outside, especially at night. Besides, the Daughter’s palace was expansive enough that she could enjoy the peace of Mortis without leaving its grounds; grounds where the Son did not trespass. 

The sunlight streamed through the window and the air smelled of the flowers which grew from the vines that wound their way around the stone palace. Rey knew that the flowers were there for no other reason than that the Daughter knew Rey enjoyed their scent. Almost all her time in the world of the living had been spent on desert worlds, and an even higher percentage of her time since had been spent in the barren World Between Worlds. So these colorful and fragrant interludes brought joy to her heart not just because of the delight of her senses, but the recognition of love. 

As she ruminated on this, the Daughter slid in silently behind Rey, her hands gently moving down Rey’s arms until they clasped onto her hands. She pulled Rey in close and gathered her arms towards Rey’s midsection. The Daughter was far taller than Rey, and so was able to look out at the setting sun over Rey’s head. The Daughter’s brilliant green hair fell around Rey’s head, and Rey smiled when she realized it smelled like the flowers around the palace. All had been prepared for her arrival.

Neither spoke until the sun finally fell below the horizon, or whatever explained the day and night cycles in that place. When the last light of day was hidden, or extinguished, the sickly green light of the Son’s Cathedral emerged from the darkness. A reminder of the threat that was always present.

Rey looked down at the Daughter’s green hair and asked, “Is it in your honor?”

“Is what?”

“The green light. Is it for you?”

The Daughter thought about it for a moment and answered, “I suppose it is. He has never said.”

“I think perhaps he is jealous of me,” Rey said. “That is why he attacks.”

“Perhaps. What I have shared with you neither of us would share with the other. But once he was my only companion. I suppose he misses those days.”

“I ruined paradise,” Rey said, somewhat playfully.

“You know it was not you. But yes, our paradise was ruined. The days of innocence are gone.”

“Long ago,” Rey said, nothing playful about her tone.

“What was it this time? What did he do?”

“It wasn’t him this time. It was a failure, but not his failing,” Rey said.

“What then?” 

“He was good this time. A good man through and through. He mastered his desires, he did his duty. He sacrificed for the greater good. He had a Master as a boy, one who died too young. We thought things might go better if he had lived,” Rey said.

“How did you manage that?” the Daughter said before placing a soft, light kiss on Rey’s cheek. She could sense her agitation.

“I spoke to him,” Rey said as she turned slightly so her face was in the Daughter’s long locks.

“I thought you couldn’t do that,” the Daughter said as she ran her hands through Rey’s long black hair.

“I had done something close to it before. It was difficult but I used the bond between us to speak to him through my friend. Warned him. It worked. He raised my friend as he ought to have been. Helped him become who he should have been.” 

“And still it failed?” the Daughter asked.

“Yes,” Rey said sadly. “The enemy could see what he was. Could see he had been made strong against the temptations the enemy offered. And the enemy ran. If he had stayed my friend would have destroyed him. It would have been easy for him, but he escaped into the shadows.”

“And this version of your friend was no creature of the shadows,” the Daughter said. “I almost wish I could have met that version of him.”

“You see the shadows in him now?” Rey asked, looking up to the Daughter.

“The mark of the darkness is on him. I see that he fought against it. I see even the marks of some victories. The light is there too. But the darkness remains.”

“He is trying,” Rey said.

“And yet you are the one who suffers.”

“He has to fail over and over again,” Rey said.

“And in those failures, does he not get to have his joys and triumphs, even if they turn out to be fleeting? While you sit alone, year after year? He gets to live and you get to watch.”

“Is there some other way?” Rey asked.

“If I knew more of your purpose, perhaps I could tell you.” The Daughter’s voice had changed. It was hard to read so ethereal a creature, but Rey knew she was frustrated.

“You know my purpose. We are trying to save the galaxy from the fate we watched come to pass. The roots of that calamity go back to the world of his youth, to decisions he made and didn’t make. And so we try to change them. What more do you need to know?” Rey asked.

“And in all these attempts, have you ever once made the galaxy better?” the Daughter asked in return.

“No, we have not.”

“Then perhaps the life the Force gave you was the best one available.”

Rey thought about this for a long time. She turned towards the window and looked out onto the false stars of Mortis, the ones she could see through the Son’s green light. Anakin had told her that when he visited Mortis as a young man the stars had not matched any known star charts. It occurred to Rey that the Father must have created them. He made them for his children, she thought, like the Daughter made her flowers for me.

“What am I to you?” Rey asked.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think when you look at me? What do you feel?” Rey asked.

“I love you.”

Love? Saying the word in her mind, Rey felt it had no meaning, like a word you repeated too many times. It called forth no feeling from her only memories of times she had invoked the word like some spell. She saw Ben’s face in her mind, and Finn’s. She had not thought of them in uncounted years. The thought of them called forth…something, some echo of a feeling she supposed was what she used to mean by the word ‘love’. She turned back to the Daughter, and asked herself if she loved this being, and if so how. The Daughter was unquestionably physically beautiful. How could she not be, as her form was hers to control? It occurred to Rey that over time the Daughter had changed her appearance slightly. Had she changed it for me, Rey asked herself. Is her body like the flowers? Then she thought of the flower scent of the Daughter’s hair. Yes. She had changed her form to better fit what she thought Rey wanted. But what did Rey want? In her living days she had never given much thought to a relationship with a woman. It had neither disgusted her nor appealed to her. Of course until she met Ben much the same had been true of a relationship with a man, and even with Ben her feelings had been complex. Had she wanted to be with him? The final kiss, she had wanted that, and Ben had known she wanted it. But what had she wanted in addition? What would they have been to each other if he had lived? She did not know. There was as much about Ben that repelled her as attracted her. He was as cruel as he was passionate, as callous as he was exciting.

And then there had been Finn. Loyal, kind, and strong, he had always been those things. He had loved her, Rey knew. Why had she never tried to make something of that love? Because he had latched onto her in desperate need. His feelings for her had been bound up in his feelings about his rejection of the First Order. Rey would have always been for him a symbol of freedom, of purity and goodness. He loved her because she was an ideal he had set for himself. But Rey had not wanted to be a symbol, or an ideal. That was why she retreated to Tatooine. 

And now the Daughter, who only wanted to give Rey what she thought she wanted. Did the Daughter even understand what it was to fall in love? Did she love that way? Or did she love Rey as the Father loved his children? Did he love Rey the way Anakin did? That thought disgusted her. She knew on an intellectual level that Anakin thought of her as something like an adopted daughter. Of course he also thought of her as his path to redemption. No, Anakin’s love was selfish. He saw himself in Rey, but also a chance to be the father figure he had never been to Luke and Leia. The Daughter had no selfishness. All she did, she did for Rey’s sake. She did not desire Rey, did not burn to possess her.

And if she was honest, Rey did not feel that kind of passion for the Daughter either. They had shared a bed over the years, but the Daughter’s embrace, her kisses, her body, were not objects of lust for Rey. Her soul was not an object of romance. Perhaps a real woman would have been, a woman with flaws and limitations like Rey’s own. But the Daughter was something beyond her, and so her attentions were, at most, a comfort. They were a way for her to forget her own loneliness, to grasp at something she had never really had in her own life, and that she had to watch Anakin receive from Padme so many times in his.

“Why do you try to dissuade me from my quest?” Rey asked. “Do you want me here with you?”

“You come back every time weaker and less yourself. I don’t want you to lose yourself, to sacrifice yourself to his madness. He demands things from you humans are not supposed to be able to do. He stretches you and stretches you beyond what you ever should have been asked to do, and gives you nothing in return.”

“And why do you care?” Rey asked.

“You are good, Rey. You deserve better.”

“Perhaps, but I am tired now, and I need to rest,” Rey said as she moved away from the window towards the door. The Daughter walked with her through the pale limestone hallways of the palace. There were torches mounted on the walls that gave off lights of various colors, so that each turn showed you stones of a new and brilliant hue. Seeing Rey’s weariness the Daughter caused the torches to give off less light, so as to lessen the assault on her companion’s eyes. They reached at last the only bedroom in the palace, one only used when Rey visited, for the Daughter did not sleep. The Daughter pulled down the blankets and sheets and beckoned for Rey to lay down, which she did. The Daughter lay down next to her and pulled up the coverings to Rey’s chin. 

“You are wrong, you know,” Rey said to her.

“About what?”

“He does give me something,” Rey said.

“And what is that?” 

“Hope. He keeps fighting. Time after time he loses, and he does not stop fighting. He will never stop. Not until he proves that the world can be something better than the world he made. And one day, he will succeed,” Rey said. Her fatigue overcame her then and her eyes started to shut. The Daughter leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. Rey, despite her weariness, kissed back ever so slightly, and then drifted off to sleep.

The Daughter rose from the bed gingerly, not wanting to wake Rey. She stood over the human and watched her breathing for a while. Then she gently entered her mind, not to communicate, but simply to observe. As always, Rey dreamed of flying, not in a ship, but on her own power, on wings. In such dreams she was the Rey who had arrived in Mortis so long ago, not the ancient being traumatized by all the evil she had seen. On a whim the Daughter used her power to transform Rey into the creature of her dreams. Out of a glowing nimbus of light, a small bird appeared above the bed, one that the Daughter immediately teleported outside of the palace, above the tall tower where her love would return to her from her journeys to the empty spaces between the worlds. She transported herself there too, so that she could watch Rey fly. In this state Rey’s thoughts and feelings were as they would be in her dreams. She could rest as she flew, freer and more herself than she could be in any other way.

The Daughter watched Rey fly for a long time that way, her reverie unbroken by any worry. But no good thing lasts forever, and eventually the darkness revealed itself. Not the darkness of the night, the natural darkness that was the necessary sibling of the light, but the unnatural darkness that was slowly consuming her brother. From his cathedral he rose, a giant winged creature capable nonetheless of amazing speed. He had sensed Rey’s presence once she left the palace, and he would tolerate no intruders. He streaked towards the Daughter’s palace. She scanned the air between them and quickly located the small speck of green feathers that he hunted. Rey had sensed his coming and turned back towards the towers of the palace. The Daughter readied herself to confront her brother, but before he could reach Rey he turned sharply away. A new presence had announced itself. 

Both of the Children turned towards it. Rey’s presence in the Force was much like the small bird form she currently inhabited. You could hear her call from a distance, but at no point would her chirping lead you to confuse her for anything large or dangerous. But the new intruder was different, his coming like the sound of two great masses of metal scraping against each other, like a sound that tore the air itself apart. The Daughter turned towards the mountains in the distance and though she could not see the shadowed form he always took, she knew he was there. The partner of Rey’s labors. The Stranger.

Her brother sensed his presence as well and turned to face him, flying towards the mountains with a terrible speed and purpose. The Daughter rose into the air herself, taking the form of a great Griffin. After confirming that Rey was safely within the bounds of her palace she flew towards the Stranger as well. Her brother had a large lead on her, and in his rage he could achieve speeds she could not match.

But if the Daughter worried about what a battle between her brother and the Stranger would entail, she need not have. The Son approached the mountain peak like some great bird of prey swooping in to capture its target, but long before he was close to doing so a line of bright white lightning erupted from the mountainside, striking the great bat creature with terrible force. The bat was knocked from the sky and spun wildly as it fell, hitting the ground in a mighty crash. Within the mass of dust and dirt kicked up by the impact the Daughter could see her Brother, in his human form, staring balefully up at the mountain. But he made no further move towards it. In a blinding flash he removed himself from the scene, returning to the cathedral to nurse his hatred.

The Daughter continued her flight to the mountain, without fear of being attacked. Whatever else she might think of the Stranger she knew that he genuinely sought to protect Rey, and that this explained his attack on her brother. As she approached the mountain she saw him standing there, close to its peak, a figure in black robes, his body hidden as usual within them. He seemed to pay the Daughter no mind at all, his attention on the Cathedral in the distance. She could feel his power. In his battle ready state it emanated from him like waves in a stormy sea. 

The Daughter made sure that as she approached the Stranger could see her, and see that her intentions were peaceful. He stood still  as the stone of the mountain as she flapped her great wings before him to slow her approach and land. As her great claws touched the rock they turned back into the delicate feet of the woman whose form was her favorite. As always when she was in the presence of the Stranger she felt a strange combination of revulsion and a desire to attract him. She felt no physical desire of course. Even for Rey she felt nothing like that. Being a physical being in her fundamental nature, Rey needed a physical component to companionship, whether she admitted it to herself or not, and the Daughter, out of love for her, provided that. But while she knew that the Stranger was, like Rey, human in his origins, she knew that he was in this way quite different. He needed no touch, felt no loneliness of the kind that human contact would soothe.

The attraction she could not help but feel impelled to inspire in him was of another sort. For all his anger and aggression towards her brother, the Stranger clearly was a creature of darkness. He controlled his own impulses better than her brother did, but he could not help but strengthen the dark forces swirling within the Son. The Daughter felt certain that if she could cure the Stranger of his wickedness then she could save her brother as well. She needed the Stranger to abandon his darkness. Unlike her brother it did not have a hold of him, but in a way that made him more repugnant in her eyes. He was not overcome by impulses too strong for him. He kept his anger as a tool which he used on those who opposed.

But he uses it to protect Rey, said a voice in her mind. But that did not matter, she told herself firmly. You don’t get to pick and choose who you treat decently. You cannot be committed to peace only with some. You must make the choice, and anything less than everything was really nothing. 

These thoughts sped through her mind, and came to an end when he turned to look at her. There was no face she could make out in that hood, only the hint of a mask. It was as though he was a cloaked and hooded patch of darkness, but that was not quite right. He was the monster that the darkness feared.

“Why have you come here?” she asked him. 

“I am here to watch over her,” he said.

“In my home I do that.”

“Yes, what a stellar job you were doing,” he said sarcastically.

“She was not in danger. I do not fight with my brother when there is no danger,” she said.

“Perhaps there would be fewer attempts on his part to be dangerous if you did.”

The Daughter shook her head and said, “You have done what you came to do. You should leave before my brother comes again.”

“I think he has learned his lesson.”

“He has only learned to hate you more.”

“He did not need me to learn hatred,” the Stranger said, shaking his head.

“You are wrong,” she replied, uncertain of her answer.

“He is the darkness.”

“He was dark before you came, but it has changed. The rage, the bitterness, the hatred, they are new. You made him worse.”

“Forgive me if I do not shed a tear.”

“You make her worse.”

“What?” She had struck a nerve, and shaken his confidence at last.

“Everytime she comes back, a little more light has gone out of her. You are sucking her dry in your quest to make up for your mistakes,” she explained.

“You have no idea what you are talking about. Not you, not your brother, not your father. The stakes here, the difficulties. You know nothing of them, locked here in your little box,” he said. His voice, which had been deep and harsh, sounded slightly different to the Daughter as he defended himself. 

“I would rather be here than out in the world with you.”

“You will be,” he said dismissively. “You will stay here, forever, no use to anyone.”

“And you have been of use, replaying your life over and over again? You have achieved something other than giving yourself what you, by your own actions as you admit, lost out on?” the Daughter asked.

The Stranger did not respond, and with no face to look at, and no way past the barriers he had placed around his mind, the Daughter had no choice but to guess at what he was thinking.

“And before you think that Rey has betrayed your confidence, know that your motives are so transparent that anyone could determine even from the bare snippets she gives me about what you have her doing. Anyone could tell but her, because her trust gets in the way. Every time you use her to live out your dreams, she grows more desperate and clings to her trust in you ever more tightly. And you have the gall to pretend that you protect her, because you drive my brother off from a chase that would only end with her safely with me. A chase he only engages in because prompted by you. You are what she must be protected from.”

The Daughter had worried that by pushing the Strange this way she would tempt him into wrath. She knew that she could not stop him, that perhaps even her father could not do so. But the danger did not change what was true.

But the feared assault did not come. The Stranger gave her neither words nor violence. He stood still and silent, but the Daughter felt she could sense a change. For a moment she thought she could see the hint of a face, the whites of eyes, there beneath his hood. But then the moment was gone, and all that was there was the barely perceptible pinpoints of light that reminded her of starlight reflected off of black water.

“Why do you hide behind masks?” she asked, unable to resist her naturally compassionate impulses.

“You cannot know who I am,” the Stranger said haltingly.

“Because you will come here again? You think that we receive so many visitors that I will be unsure who you are when you return? Or that I could somehow miss the Chosen One when he appears here?” she asked. When he did not respond she felt unable to do anything but interpret it as shock.

“Yes, I know what you are. What else could you be? What other human could as you have done?”

She took a step closer to him, until she could have reached out to touch him.

“Why do you hide from me? Why do you hide from the light? Why can’t you drop the mask?” 

She reached up to push the hood off his head, but he brought his hands up to stop her, not violently, but with a gentleness that surprised her.

“It is what I am used to,” the Stranger said.

“But is it what is good for you?” the Daughter asked.

The Stranger thought about his answer for a while and eventually said, “The mask was all I had. For so long it was all I knew. I don’t…” He did not finish his thought. He stood for a second before stepping back uncertainly and finally taking a seat on a large rock.

The Daughter did not break the silence created by the Stranger’s hesitation. In all the long years since he and Rey had come to Mortis, he had never opened up, not to the least degree. If she pushed too hard, she knew the walls would go back up. Let him work through what he must, she thought. So the two waited in silence for the Stranger to find the courage to state the truth which had silenced him. 

“I don’t know what is behind the mask anymore. I don’t know who I am without it,” he said at last.

“You died in the peace of the Force. I do not understand how you could still be so far from self-understanding,” the Daughter said.

“Perhaps there was nothing left to understand at the end,” the Stranger said.  

“Then how did you persist? How does your spirit endure, unbalanced as it is?” the Daughter asked.

“What else shall I do?” the Stranger asked as he got to his feet. “I can carry on or I can give in. I will not give in.”

“Perhaps what you can endure others cannot,” the Daughter said.

“Say what you wish to say,” the Stranger replied.

“You carry on, but you are killing her,” the Daughter said.

“We cannot turn back,” the Stranger said.

“Then she will slip away, she will fade and one day she will be gone,” the Daughter said.

“No. I will save her. I will save them all,” the Stranger declared before stepping backwards into a shadow created by a cleft in the rock. The Daughter did not need to check or call out. She knew he was gone, returned to the World Between Worlds.

In that world, alone among the unchanging stars, Anakin Skywalker looked out at the infinite paths and said, “I will not fail again.”

Chapter Text

A World Made Anew

Part II

Chapter X

The Sands of Tatooine

Rey re-entered the World Between Worlds after an amount of time she was not sure of. She never knew how long she spent on Mortis. She wasn’t sure questions about how long things lasted on Mortis meant anything. It was a place between and outside of time, yet time elapsed there. It had a time of its own, but when you were there your experience was like that of a dream. Moments slipped by you. They stretched and contracted. You never could quite remember how long things had lasted. She could almost escape the effects of the years spent in the World Between Worlds when she was in Mortis. As she flew free, or rested in the arms of the Daughter, the weight of the eons spent in the dark lifted from her. But always she had to return. If she had known what it would involve, would she have set out on this course? She did not know. She tried to remember Poe’s face, Finn’s face, even Ben’s face. She found she could no longer remember what they looked like. They were just names now, placeholders where she knew admiration, friendship and even love had once been. But what else could she do now? There was nothing to go back to. The person she had been was slipping away, but what did that matter when the life that had made that person was gone already?

She reached out with her mind to find Anakin. The connection between the two was such that she could also find him here, despite the infinite expanse of the World Between Worlds. And having found him, she could always join him. They were linked. Circumstance had brought his spirit to her, in the days of life. The travels through time and space had bonded them each to the other. But it was in the nowhere between realities that their connection had become so complete, so all encompassing that nothing could truly separate them. She was his anchor when he went on his voyages through time, and he was, she suspected, the anchor which kept her mind from floating away. The fierce intensity of his purpose was all that kept her personality together. It would be so easy to let go, to let her definition fade, to let the boundary between her self and the rest of the universe crumble away. But always, in the back of her mind, was his presence, insistent and unyielding. Always the thought of the task left undone, the inadequacy of the universe that must be addressed before one could surrender to the call of unity with it. Anakin would never let her go, not until the day came where he was willing to let go of himself. The space between them closed. After a few steps she had reached him. 

“Hello Rey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“I am ready to go again,” she said.

“That is not what I asked.”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m tired? I’ve been tired for lifetimes, Anakin. I am never going to be not tired again. So there is no reason to wait,” she said.

“I am sorry. I did not understand what this would be,” Anakin said softly. 

“It’s alright. I made my own choice. So what is next? What do we change about last time?” Rey asked.

“Do you really think we should try that approach again?” he asked in response.

“Our first attempt, when we went back to the day of the massacre, we tried it dozens and dozens of times. And our first tries at that one weren’t any better than what we just did with saving Qui-Gon. They were worse.”

“No, I was worse, the attempts weren’t. We didn’t get any closer this last time. If anything we were farther away,” Anakin said.

“So we give up after one try? When have we done that?” Rey asked, genuinely perplexed. She had been prepared to try once again to save Qui-Gon on Naboo and see what he could make of Anakin’s training. While in Mortis she had worked herself up to it, consoling herself that at least Anakin was likely to become a good man each time.

“Perhaps we need to change things more than I have allowed in our previous attempts,” Anakin suggested.

“Change what?”

“If I become a Jedi I will either head down a path where Palpatine thinks I can be turned or I go down one where he has no hope of making me his apprentice. If I go the first way then even if I resist him, I am still on the edge of the dark. And every time we try anything along those lines I end up doing terrible things while trying to defeat him, unless I fall entirely and serve him. And I think we can see that if I am nowhere near falling, then he is going to run before I can ever catch him. By the time I was on the scene he was too far along in his plans to be caught by a Jedi,” Anakin explained.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting we try again to turn you after you become Darth Vader,” Rey said, the spark of anger in her voice. Those had been the worst attempts of all. After hundreds of attempts to change the course of history before Anakin’s fall he had finally given in, and tried to change the past as Vader. They had tried so many permutations, mostly built around having him find Luke and Leia earlier. All had ended in failure, and in watching him in those lives, she came to truly understand the source of his awful guilt, to understand the depths of his evil.

“No, I am suggesting we go farther back. I am suggesting that I never become a Jedi at all,” he said sadly.

“What?” Rey asked, surprised by this turn of events.

“They found me on Tatooine, and once they did, Palpatine knew of me. He had his eye on me from that moment, and there was no way he was going to let me near enough to hurt him if he didn’t think I would benefit him by joining him. So we prevent him from knowing me.”

“What about your theory that he knew you had been born?” Rey asked. Anakin had shared the suspicion with Rey so long ago she could not remember the context. It might have even been before their passage through time, when she lived on Jakku. No, not Jakku, that had been before, when she was a child. Tatooine. In Luke’s old home. Her real life was so long ago the details of it ran together in her mind.

“Even if that is true, he clearly had no idea where, or he would have found me. This could work, Rey. I have to take him by surprise. And that either means he thinks I am his whipped dog, or he doesn’t see me coming at all,” Anakin said.

“Why the change? Whenever we have any hint of success you always want to follow it up,” Rey asked.

“What success did we have last time?” he replied.

“You were a good man. That was something,” she answered.

“Yes I was, good and useless,” he said ruefully.

“This isn’t because…?,” she started to say before trailing off.

“Because of what?” Anakin asked.

“Because you didn’t get to be with her, with Padme?” she finished.

For a moment she thought he was going to grow angry, something she had rarely seen from him in this world, but which she had seen all too much of in the hypothetical worlds where he had spent almost all his existence. But the spasm of rage passed quickly and he said, “No. That is not it. We didn’t get to be together, but I have had many lives where we did. At least in this one, she was proud of me. And besides, if I never become a Jedi, never meet Qui-Gon, I won’t have a chance to be with her. But this could work, Rey. I know it can.”

Rey thought about it for a while and came to the conclusion that he was right. It was a genuinely new approach, and it would be the most drastic change they had ever tried to make. They talked over Anakin’s plan in depth, and Rey realized that it would demand far more of her than the previous attempts had. The more she tried to communicate directly, the more strength it demanded, and the harder it became to maintain their connection. Communicating with Qui-Gon through Anakin’s mind had pushed Rey to what had felt like her limit. This would be much, much more. But he was right. It could work.

Anakin Skywalker was nine years old, and he was bored. Watto was flying around somewhere, and Anakin had nothing to do. Or rather he had a lot to do, but he needed Watto to tell him which things he wanted Anakin to fix and which things Watto himself wanted to look at. And when the bug finally got around to telling him, Anakin knew it would somehow be his fault for not already knowing. So he sat in the front room of the shop, seated on the counter, and waited. As he was playing around with one of the pieces of machinery he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up towards the doorway and saw a woman standing there. She had short dark hair, and a very slender build. Her clothes were that of a desert dweller, wrapped white linen with a dark belt. Her hair was dark, but her eyes were darker. Anakin looked into them and it reminded him of the sky in the deepest night, when he had wandered far from home and away from the lights of the city. He felt like he could even see stars in them. Their eyes remained locked for what seemed to be a long time to the young boy. She seemed familiar to him, but he could not remember where he would have seen her before.

Then she was gone. She had not run, she had simply vanished. Anakin hopped off the counter and ran to the doorway. After exiting the shop he looked around and he saw her, standing at the entrance to an alleyway across the street. She stared right at him, as though she did not even see the people walking along the street between them. Anakin, forgetful of the fact of his duties at the shop, made his way through the foot traffic to where she was standing. Once again he did not see her move, but just before he reached the point where she had been standing, a man walked between them and when he had passed she was gone. Anakin looked down the alley and saw her again, standing at the very end of it, and once again she was looking at him. And Anakin followed.

Ten or so minutes after Anakin had abandoned his post in the shop Watto floated in. Seeing the boy had left he angrily called after him. After doing so several times the Toydarian began to curse and grabbed the sign saying the shop was closed. He was thinking about the beating he was going to give the boy when he found him, no doubt hanging around the podracers again. He put the sign outside and shut the door. 

He was already out of sight when a Jedi, a Gungan and a handmaiden showed up to find the shop closed. They moved on to find another shop that carried the parts they needed, a search that would take far too long. They were still in Mos Espa when Darth Maul arrived, and Qui-Gon had to face him alone. In a confrontation that would be spoken of on Tatooine for years to come, the Jedi Master and Sith warrior fought their way across the rooftops of the city. The duel ended in tragedy, with Master Jinn falling before Maul’s blade, but not before his Padawan was able to arrive. The Sith was unable to withstand Obi-Wan Kenobi’s attack and was forced to flee, after taking an injury. After several days on the run, and seemingly already having been found, the two risked contacting the Jedi, and a ship was sent to pick them up.

The political fallout of the death of a Jedi Master, on top of the invasion of Naboo, led to the election of Palpatine to the Chancellorship. Queen Amidala returned to Naboo, but due to the killing of Qui-Gon she was accompanied by a dozen Jedi, including Obi-Wan and Mace Windu. Maul, still recovering from the injuries he suffered on Tatooine, was unable to appear. The Trade Federation fell quickly, unwilling to face the Jedi, and seemingly abandoned by Darth Sidious.

None of this made any immediate difference to Anakin. The damage done to Mos Espa during the duel between Qui-Gon and Maul had fallen hard on one of Watto’s competitors, forcing them to sell their shop and its contents. In need of quick cash in order to get his hands on the goods, Watto sold both his slaves to a man in Anchorhead who sold and repaired moisture vaporators. When he figured out Anakin and Shmi’s mechanical abilities he began to rely on them more and more. After a few years he would regularly send them out on jobs with no supervision. These would sometimes take them deep into the desert.

The last day Anakin saw his mother was on one such trip. They had finished installing the vaporator and were on their way back when they were caught in the open by a sandstorm. The old and unreliable speeder they had been given to use quickly broke down due to the strain from the winds. It had been Anakin’s idea to leave the cockpit of the speeder and make for some rocks he remembered seeing before the sand hit them. He had felt it was imperative not to get stuck in the speeder as it was buried in the sand. It was on the run to the rocks that he felt Shmi’s hand slip out of his. He had looked for her, called out to her. Once he thought he heard her reply, but when he ran in that direction he found nothing. And after that he heard nothing but the howl of the wind. He eventually made it to the rocks, and there his last bit of hope died. He had held onto the idea that she had gotten in front of him and made for the rocks herself, but when he reached them he found no one. After the storm had passed he looked for her again. All throughout a blisteringly hot Tatooine day he searched the dunes. When night came he was near death. He had given up searching and had given up on living. That was how the Sand People found him. They had heard a voice calling them in the language of the invaders, which they did not understand. But no matter how they shut their ears they could not block it out. No matter what noise they antagonized their Banthas to make, it could still be heard. So they followed the voice, and found the boy in the sand. And having been led to him by so clearly magical an entity, they took him with them.

The years passed, and the galaxy began to unravel. Count Dooku’s Confederacy of Independent Systems seceded from the Republic and the Clone wars began. The war was already two years old when Obi-Wan Kenobi was called to report to the Jedi Council. This came as something of a surprise to Kenobi. He had been in command of the 356th Legion since the outbreak of the war, but his unit had been deployed to guard duty on Coruscant as a means of Rest and Relaxation after some hard and costly fighting. He had made his report on those engagements to the Council and the Senate already. Not knowing what the meeting would be about, Kenobi entered the room with some measure of worry.

“Ah, Obi-Wan, it is good to see you,” Mace Windu said.

“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

“We were impressed with your performance on the front lines,” a hologram of Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“The credit belongs to the Clone Troopers under my command, as well as the non-clone officers of the fleet. They had much to teach me,” Obi-Wan said.

“Not our function, war is. Much to learn we have, sadly,” Yoda said.

“I am hopeful that my next assignment will be less costly in terms of lives,” Obi-Wan said.

“I am sure it will be, but it will not be at the head of the 356th Legion,” Mace Windu said.

“Am I to be given some other unit to command? I have developed something of a rapport with those men,” Obi-Wan said.

“Surely you will be able to develop a similar rapport with the identical men in a new unit,” Ki-Adi Mundi said, seemingly puzzled by Obi-Wan’s comment.

Before Obi-Wan could decide how to communicate his lack of agreement with this comment, Mace Windu cut back into the conversation, saying, “You will not be taking over another military command. Not immediately anyway.”

Obi-Wan’s face communicated his surprise better than any words could, and he did not quite know what to say in response anyway, so he waited. Windu continued, “Have you heard of the rebellion on Tatooine?”

“Yes, Master, though what I had heard was unclear and seemed as though it might be mostly rumor,” Obi-Wan said.

“It is no rumor. We received word yesterday that Jabba the Hutt has been killed. All the major settlements appear to be in the hands of the rebels,” Windu said.

“Do we know much about the rebels?” Obi-Wan asked.

“They appear to be a mixture of slaves and the native population,” Plo Koon said.

“Well then, perhaps it is a good thing,” Obi-Wan said.

“Perhaps,” Mace Windu said.

“Should we not celebrate the oppressed freeing themselves?” Obi-Wan asked?

“This rebellion might have certain destabilizing effects on the war,” Kit Fisto said.

“How so? Tatooine is a fairly unimportant world,” Obi-Wan replied.

“So it has been. But the Hutts were interested in it for a reason, and they are going to want it back. Many of the connections between the various groups in the galactic criminal underworld run through Tatooine, despite its poverty in terms of population and resources. If Count Dooku was able to bring the planet into the CIS, or provide sufficient help the Hutts to allow them to take it back and so gain a presence on the world that way, we worry about what that might give him access to,” Windu explained.

“And there have been worrying CIS advances in that sector. If they add another base to their holdings, nearby Republic worlds will be under threat. Naboo for example,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“Which is why you will not be going alone,” Windu added.

“I’m sorry?” Obi-Wan asked, surprised.

“Accompanied by the Senator from Naboo you will be,” Yoda explained.

Obi-Wan’s surprise only increased. “Padme?”

“Her system has an interest in this upheaval, and she has sufficient authority to serve as a negotiator for the Republic,” Plo Koon said.

“And in what capacity will I be going?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You are there to evaluate the situation from a military perspective and report on the matter to us. You will also provide protection to the Senator,” Windu said.

Seeing Obi-Wan’s discomfort, Yoda asked, “Troubled you are, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan nodded and said, “It is just that being back on Tatooine, with Senator Amidala…is likely to dredge up feelings and memories that I…”

“Yes?” Yoda said.

“That I had succeeded in putting behind me,” Obi-Wan finished.

“Memories of your Master,” Mundi said, confident he had seen the truth. Windu said nothing, but the look he was sending Obi-Wan’s way left the Jedi Knight little doubt that he understood the meaning of his statement.

“You know Tatooine better than any Jedi from your time hiding out there. You also know the Senator and should work well with her,” Windu said. 

“Is there some reason a non-Jedi security escort would be inappropriate?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We have told you that we need a Jedi to make a report on the situation,” Ki-Adi Mundi said.

“Yes, but…,” Obi-Wan started to say before being cut off.

“You have your mission, young Kenobi,” Windu said. Obi-Wan knew better than to continue to argue, bowed and left the council room. Hours later, as he was finishing up his preparations for his mission in his temporary quarters in the Temple, the buzzer at the door went off. When he opened it he found Masters Windu and Yoda on the other side. Yoda was seated on the floating bed that he used to get around the Temple quickly. 

“May we accompany you to your ship Obi-Wan?” Windu asked.

“Of course, Masters,” Obi-Wan replied while he wondered what was going on. But he gathered his bags and started towards the hangar.

After a few moments of walking in silence Master Yoda said, “Questions you had about your mission young Obi-Wan.”

“I do not mean to sound disrespectful, Master…,” Obi-Wan said.

“That is not the issue,” Windu interrupted. “There are things that are best not spoken of, even in Council.”

Seeing Obi-Wan’s shocked expression, Yoda explained, “Stories we have heard about this uprising on Tatooine. Investigate them we must. Best if those outside the Order hear them not.”

“Stories?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The Sand People were said to have started this rebellion, and freed slaves as they made progress. There are enough slaves on Tatooine that if they could be gathered together, and the restraints on them circumvented, then their masters would have no chance to resist,” Windu said.

“This is what I heard as well, but so has everyone. What about this needs to be kept secret?” Obi-Wan asked.

“What caused the Sand People to rebel? For thousands of years individual tribes of Sand People have made raids, killed villagers and farmers, but the Archives are clear that they have never united for any reason. But the earliest battles in this rebellion, in which the rebel forces consisted entirely of Sand People, the numbers on the rebel side were too great for any one tribe, for any ten tribes. And these battles were fought across the planet, near every major city at once. This is the mystery. The stories that worry us would provide an answer,” Windu said.

“A Force user we have heard, lead this rebellion he does,” Yoda said.

“A Sith? A rogue Jedi?” an agitated Obi-Wan asked.

“We do not know. Obviously given Dooku’s betrayal we worry about the latter, though we have been able to find no plausible candidate among the list of missing Jedi. And as for the Sith, we fail to see how this rebellion is in the interests of the Separatists, so if it is them, why do this?” Windu explained.

“Do you suspect infighting among the Sith?” Obi-Wan asked.

“All our evidence says that for the last thousand years there has been only two Sith at a time, precisely to prevent the kind of infighting which doomed them in the past. If there is a rogue Sith on Tatooine, we need to know. It could make the difference in this war,” Windu said.

“Why would a Sith free slaves?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The leader of this rebellion, an army he now has,” Yoda said.

“An army that ought to exist, one might say,” Obi-Wan objected.

“Yes, the toleration of slavery on the Outer Rim was a mistake. But now that the army exists, what will be done with it? If this is a Sith, who will he use this army against?” Windu replied.

“Identify and evaluate the leader of this rebellion you must,” Yoda said.

“You have been chosen partly for your history on Tatooine and with the Senator, but primarily because you are among the strongest Knights we have. Taking a Master off the front lines or away from the Council to address this would draw attention. And if there is a Sith on Tatooine, public revelation of that fact could be catastrophic to civilian morale. We are having enough trouble fighting off one Sith Lord. The appearance of a second might tempt Senators to begin moving towards surrendering to Dooku, and allowing the CIS to leave the Republic with all their conquered planets with them. So go, learn the identity of this Force user, if there is one, and report back to us, and no one but us,” Windu said.

“The Senator, told of this she must not be,” Yoda said.

“You distrust Padme?” Obi-Wan asked, a little defensively.

“No, but there are others in the Senate we would keep this news from, and feel it would be better to keep this information from her than to put her in the position of lying to her colleagues,” Windu said.

“I see,” a skeptical Obi-Wan said.

“Your ship will take you to the Senate shipyard, where you will join the Senator on her ship. Report to us your first night on Tatooine,” Windu said.

“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan said before making his way to his shuttle. As if turning the Jedi into soldiers was not enough, the Council was now turning him into a spy.

When Obi-Wan’s shuttle touched down on a Senate landing pad a short time later, he found a droid waiting for him. He followed it to a familiar looking Nubian ship. When he reached the top of the ramp he saw her. She was facing away from him, and her silky, open backed dress letting him see the graceful lines and smooth skin from her neck to her waist. He stood for a moment and tried not to think about the last time they were together, when she had worn a similar dress, no doubt to inspire a similar effect in him. He remembered what it felt like for his fingertips to trace a line down her spine. She had been looking up at him with her soft brown eyes and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to move his hand down her back. He had mastered himself that night, had resisted the temptation of personal gratification. He should have been confident he could do it again. It had been three years since Padme had told him of her feelings, and three years since that moment had triggered feelings of his own. Why did he allow himself to be put in this situation? Even when he would not admit it to himself, he knew it was because he liked those feelings. He liked the possibility of a life with her to be there, even if he knew duty meant he had to reject it. And she seemed to like it too. Why else would she be dressed this way for a mission like this?

Padme turned to look at him. Her smile contained no hint of any intent to seduce him. From her perspective, the chance to be with Obi-Wan, the man who had protected her as a young woman, was in the past. She had shared her feelings, made her offer, and he had rejected her. There was nothing to be gained by dwelling on such things, though she could not help the occasional, wistful romantic daydream. She wore that dress because she liked the way it looked on her, because it helped her feel more confident. Of course she knew that men tended to ogle her when she wore it, but that was their failing, not hers. And of course it was sometimes useful when it came to the less strong-minded men to have them thinking about something other than her intellect.

“Master Kenobi,” she said pleasantly, though somewhat formally.

“I am not a Master, Padme. I am still only a Knight,” Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

“Yes I know, but what are we supposed to call Knights? Should I call you Sir Kenobi?” she asked playfully.

“Sometimes people call Knights who are training their first Padawan ‘Master’, but that is not strictly speaking correct. Traditionally you would refer to me as Jedi Kenobi,” Obi-wan said.

“I think I shall just have to call my old friend by his name,” she said kindly. “Because ‘Jedi Kenobi’ sounds ridiculous.”

“It is hard to argue with that point,” he said, smiling in return.

The captain walked into the room they were in, an audience chamber of sorts, and whispered something in Padme’s ear. She thanked him and said to Obi-Wan, “We are about to take off. We have set aside a room for you. When I heard that you were coming I asked the Queen to lend me her ship, and this new model is a bit more comfortable than the one we left behind on Tatooine.”

Obi-Wan bowed and made his way to his cabin. He spent the hours of their journey in meditation. He had not found seeing Padme again as difficult as he had feared. Her clothing aside there was nothing in her manner that suggested her intention to force any romantic interlude on the mission. That did not mean there was no danger, but it meant that his primary worry would need to be himself, his own feelings. So he remained in his cabin for the duration of the trip. When he felt the ship drop out of hyperspace he made his way to the bridge, where he found Padme, dressed in far more practical attire, listening as the captain spoke with the authorities in Bestine.

“Senator,” he said as he stepped onto the bridge. “How goes the landing?”

“Everything appears to be in order. Pretty standard procedures given they just had a rebellion,” the captain answered for her.

“When we arrive, Obi-Wan, I would appreciate it if you let me do the talking. I imagine the Jedi have their own interests here, but this is a Senatorial mission, and I should take the lead in negotiations,” Padme added.

Obi-Wan agreed and found himself following her down the ramp after they landed. The heat of Tatooine was not exactly a surprise, as he remembered it clearly from his last stay on the planet, but memory could not truly prepare him for it. Luckily their party was quickly led to a covered speeder by a yellow Twi’lek. He had a pleasant if vapid expression on his face, and his little furtive hand movements as he walked towards them spoke of nervousness.

“Welcome to Tatooine, honored guests! I am here to take you to the capital,” the Twi’lek said.

“I thought Bestine was the capital of Tatooine,” Padme said, after she, Obi-Wan and two of her guards were loaded into the large speeder, which appeared to be a converted cargo truck.

“Yes. Well, it had been, technically anyway,” the Twi'lek said. “The real power was always with the Hutts, and recently that meant Jabba. The bureaucracy was located here, certainly. So if you wanted to get a permit or something, you would come here to Bestine. That is actually what I used to do. If you wanted to build anything that would involve putting something into the air, I was who you had to see. But ah, anything touchy or potentially disruptive meant we had to check with Jabba. I never had to check anything. I guess that is why I am a driver now. But I am a driver, and I have been instructed to get you to the palace. So if we could get going that would be great.”

“Instructed by whom?” Padme asked.

“Oh, you can familiarize yourself with the command structure when you get there,” the Twi’lek said. “I actually don’t know how to pronounce his name, any of their names really. I don’t speak Tusken, and the droid said that I had no hope of pronouncing my boss’ name anyway, so why bother. Before the glorious revolution my boss was a human who reported directly to Bib Fortuna.”

“Who is Bib Fortuna?” Padme asked.

“Oh, Bib? Oh, Senator, Bib Fortuna is a big deal here on Tatooine! Or he was, he was a big deal. He was Jabba’s majordomo. The second most powerful being on the planet. But yes, he is, ah, dead now. From what I can gather my current immediate superior is not majordomo to the new headman. I suppose there is bound to be something of a shakeup when you switch administrations. My friend over in waste management has a boss who speaks Galactic Basic. A human, and they can have conversations together. A freed slave, if you can believe it, so I am not sure what they talk about,” the Twi’lek said.

“Who is this new headman?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You know, it is the strangest thing, but they haven’t really told us. They just gave us some strange title. Skykiller. You can imagine that given my previous occupation, I found this a little disturbing,” the Twi’lek said jovially.

“His title is Skykiller?” Padme asked, clearly not pleased with what this suggested.

“I think so. My friend, the one with the human boss, he said it was Starkiller. And I heard somebody else say it was Starwalker,” the Twi’lek said.

“How can you not know the name of the ruler of your world?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Well that is the interesting thing. He hasn’t done much ruling. I read the transcript of his speech from Mos Espa when the revolution took it, and he said he was here to set us all free, and in so far as there haven’t been many instructions coming from the Palace I suppose he has been true to his word. What I mean to say is there are not very many official pronouncements where we can read his name,” the Twi’lek said.

When it became clear that the Twi-lek had very little information to share, the conversation slowed down and most of the ride went by in silence. The suns were already low when they arrived at Jabba’s palace, but there was sufficient light to make out the grizzly decoration the new occupants of the palace had mounted above its entryway. There, hanging from a large metal beam which had been driven into the wall, were two rotting carcasses. One was clearly the body of a Rancor. Being covered by bony plates meant the beast was still easily recognizable despite the weeks of decomposition. The other carcass was harder to identify, and if Obi-Wan had not known the identity of the Palace’s previous master he might not have been able to identify the body of Jabba the Hutt. He had been mounted in front of the much larger Rancor, and most of the worm’s flesh had already fallen away.

Their Twi’lek companion stepped out of the speeder and gestured for the passengers to join him. As he stepped out Obi-Wan noticed the two Tusken Raiders standing guard by the door.

“I take it this is new,” he said.

“Ah, yes. Yes. It is new. Jabba was not a fan of the Sand People, and, as you can tell, they were not a fan of his,” the Twi’lek said. “If you figure out which one of them is my boss, I would just love it if you put in a good word for me, told them what a good driver I was.”

“I didn’t get the impression you liked being a driver,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Oh, no, no, no, I certainly did not want to give you that impression. I mean, did I like my old job better? Of course, of course. But most of my former colleagues at Bestine - the ones who weren’t in the palace when it was taken, they’re dead of course - but my other former colleagues, most of them are out of work entirely. And I do love that aspect of my job where it is a job. I have a little guy at home with big dreams about his future in government, and I would hate for him to think his dad was some kind of deadbeat,” the Twi’lek said as he climbed back into the speeder. His nervousness had, if anything, increased as they got closer to the palace and he very clearly wanted to be away as quickly as possible.

Padme and Obi-Wan turned their back on their driver and walked towards the palace, a building that Obi-Wan knew from the research he had done on the flight to Tatooine was a former monastery of an odd monastic order that would remove their own brains. As they approached the door the two Tuskens took a defensive stance, lifting their weapons, which Obi-Wan knew were called ‘gaderffii sticks’ into the air. Obi-Wan stepped in front of Padme and his hand moved slowly to the hilt of his saber. Seeing this the Tuskens dropped their gaderffi sticks so that they were horizontal. While they were not identical, both sticks had viciously pointed ends, which were now pointed at them.

“Wait!” came a high pitched yell from above them. Obi-Wan looked up and saw a dingy looking protocol droid leaning out of a window. It then barked something Obi-Wan could not quite understand at the guards. He had never put himself to the task of trying to understand the Tusken language, and the normal insight that the Force gave a Jedi into the meaning of new languages was not present when it was a droid doing the talking. With nothing but the emotional reactions of the Tuskens to go on, he did not make out much more than that the droid was telling them not to attack. And despite the fact that it was a droid, and despite how fussy the droid sounded, the Tuskens obeyed. They raised their gaderffii sticks and slowly walked back to their guard positions, though they did not look away from Obi-Wan as they did so. Or at least he assumed so, as he could not see their eyes behind their desert masks.

But while the guards had pulled back on their hostility, the doors remained closed for several minutes. It was not until the dingy, fussy droid had made its way downstairs that the large metal gate lifted from the ground. 

“Greetings, honored guests. I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations and on behalf of the free peoples of Tatooine I warmly welcome you to Liberty Palace. If you will step this way we will take you to your quarters where you will await your audience,” the droid said.

Padme nodded and followed the droid, while her two guards picked up her bags and followed her. Obi-Wan passed between the two Tusken guards, whose heads turned slightly to follow him as he did so. As soon as he was past the gate it began to close again, and soon even the faint light of the setting suns was replaced by the even dimmer lighting of the palace. 

“Were you in the employ of the Tatooine government? Before the rebellion I mean,” Padme asked 3PO.

“Oh no, I was privately owned. My most recent owner has since died, sadly enough, in the revolution. He was a slave owner you see,” C-3PO said.

“So how did you come to work at the palace?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Oh, well that story is one that might be better saved for another time. There is some information I am not permitted to divulge,” the droid responded.

Obi-Wan and Padme exchanged a look that communicated their mutual, mild, interest in the fact that the droid was not allowed to talk about how he had been acquired.

“You said your previous owner was a slave owner, as a way of explaining his death. Have all the slave owners been killed?” Padme asked.

“Oh goodness no, any slave owner that complied with the order to release his slaves to join the Glorious Army of the Revolution was spared punishment, aside from the confiscation of their property. And of course there were those who fled the planet,” 3PO explained.

“When was this order given?” Padme asked.

“At different times in different places, Madame Senator. Once the army took a city they would promulgate an order of submission to those under the authority of the officials in that city. And the order gave three days for slave owners to comply before punishment was meted out,” the droid answered.

“And what form did punishment take?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Punishment…was up to the discretion of the local commanders,” 3PO said.

“But in your case the owner was killed?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes. The fighting in Mos Espa was particularly harsh, and the commander there was not inclined towards mercy in the aftermath,” the droid explained.

“What has his name?” Padme asked.

“Oh, Gargwanth,” 3PO said.

“And what did Gargwant do?” she followed up.

“He sold machine parts to repair shops all over the planet, hence his need for me. I am fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, and he had many business contacts where translation skills were necessary,” the droid explained.

Their walk through the halls of the palace brought them finally to their rooms. 3PO pointed them to doors on opposite sides of the hallway. A Tusken guard was waiting for them there, and used a device to unlock the doors.

Seeing this, Obi-Wan asked, “Are we to be locked in?”

“For your own safety, yes. As you have no doubt noticed some of the guards have a natural testiness that makes it safer for you not to be wandering the halls. Also, we are still clearing the place out of all the creatures that lived here during Jabba the Hutt’s time. And of course our other guests and you might find it difficult…,” 3PO said before being cut off by a bark from the guard, who apparently understood Basic, though presumably he was not able to speak it.

“Ah yes, suffice it to say this is for your safety,” the droid said.

“Where will my guards stay? There is only one bed in here,” Padme asked.

“Your guards will stay in the barracks with the soldiers assigned to the palace,” 3PO said.

“I am sorry, but that is unacceptable. My guards must be near me and they must be able to reach me if I should require assistance,” Padme said.

“Oh dear. I just thought that…well, give me a few moments to work this out,” 3PO said before turning to discuss matters with the guard. It was odd, hearing the high pitched, stuffy voice the droid had been using to speak in Basic replaced with the guttural, grunting sounds of the language of the Sand People. But still the hint of the nasal tones of the droid’s voice could be heard, even in the harsh sounds he was producing. Who built the droid to talk that way, Obi-Wan wondered. The discussion between the two came to a stop and the droid turned back to them.

“We can only spare these two rooms, unfortunately,” 3PO said. “Can your guards join you in your quarters?”

“I don’t want my guards sleeping in bed with me, and I don’t think it is reasonable to ask them to sleep on the floor. Also the room is quite small for three people,” Padme objected.

“Well perhaps one could sleep in your room and the other in with the Jedi,” the droid suggested. “Or perhaps the Jedi can stay with you and your guards across the hall. I can think of no better protection for you than a Jedi Knight.”

“That will be acceptable,” Padme said before Obi-Wan could object.

Obi-Wan had turned slightly red but could not politely do anything now but accept Padme’s suggestion, so he nodded.

“I trust someone can have a bedroll brought for us,” Padme said to the droid.

After a brief exchange with the guard 3PO said, “Yes, we have extra bedrolls, lightly used.”

When C-3PO and Padme turned to him, Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders and said, “Wonderful.”

Once their belongings were in the room they were locked in for the evening, told that they would have an audience at first light in the morning. The Jedi and the Senator looked at each other with very different attitudes. Obi-Wan was very worried about what Padme arranging for them to sleep in the same room would mean, while she was clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“Is there something you would like to ask me, Jedi Kenobi?” she said as she began to remove her earrings. 

“Why did you do this?” he asked with exasperation. 

“Well the thing is I have actually never expressed my undying love for either of the two guards, so I don’t know where they stand on the issue. But with you I know I am totally safe, as when I did that last, it was with you and you turned me down,” Padme said.

Obi-Wan frowned, not sure how to respond delicately, but not convinced of her sincerity. The two prepared for bed. For Obi-Wan, who intended to sleep in his robes, this was a simple matter of laying out his bedroll and removing from it some of the passengers that had accompanied it from the desert. This included several insects, one of which, though small, appeared to be in possession of a nasty stinger. Padme had a much more involved process. When she emerged from the washroom, Obi-Wan was relieved that she was wearing modest sleepwear, though the looseness of her nightgown could not hide her beauty. His only solution was to turn away.

The day had been long, and despite his agitation, and the excitement he was struggling not to indulge, Obi-Wan was able to find his way to sleep before too long. Normally he would have slept soundly and deeply, so it came as a surprise to him when he woke in the middle of the night. He rose from the floor and walked to the room’s only window, a narrow pane of thick dark glass that he knew was essentially invisible from the outside. Jabba had wanted the rooms for guests that went somewhat beyond cells, so windows were necessary, but he had not wanted to disturb his palace’s appearance as a fortress. So when Obi-Wan looked down at the small party that had arrived at the palace, he should not have been visible by those outside. But as the gate opened, and the lights from within the palace streamed out onto the desert sands, the figure in the center of the group seeking entry looked up, and directly at the window. Obi-Wan’s unease upon waking intensified, and he felt as if cold water was trickling down his spine as the light illuminated the black and red tattooed face of Darth Maul.