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Chapter Text

Everything hurt. Anakin Skywalker was used to pain. From his childhood as a slave, where it was all but expected and learned to endure, to his two decades as Darth Vader, where it had fueled him and given him strength. Pain had always been part of his life. Part of who he was. He was so accustomed to it, he could recognize and name each of its different flavors. And right now, it was the agonizing flavor. The lethal flavor.

Every single molecule in his body felt like he was back on that lava bank on Mustafar, the flames engulfing him, every nerves set ablaze. His respirator was failing, dying as slowly and surely as him, and breathing was a torture in itself, the little oxygen he managed to inhale burning his damaged lunges. The lenses of his helmet were glitching, as his armor succumbed to Sidious' lightings. The various beeps the suit emitted to inform him of the numerous crashing life support were barely audible over the blaring emergency alarms resonating throughout the Death Star. Despite it all, he couldn't bring himself to care. The pain would come to an end soon enough. It would end for good.

Anakin was vaguely aware of being dragged across the floor as Luke no longer had the strength to carry him. Finally, out of breath, his son stopped. Through the damaged lenses, Anakin recognized a hangar. Groups of Stromtroopers and Imperial officers were running for their lives, completely ignoring them. From the angle of the floor against his back, he understood Luke had brought them to a shuttle.

As his son straightened him up, Anakin managed to say :

« Luke...help me take...this mask off. »

Concern flared in the young man's eyes as he responded :

« But you'll die.»

« Nothing can stop that now. Just for once, let me...look on you with my own eyes. »

And Luke, empathetic as ever, understood the urgency and the desperate need in his father's modulated voice. With little confidence but carefully, Luke reached for the helmet's upper layer and lifted it up. Then he removed the remaining part.

The light blinded Anakin's eyes as, for the first time in two decades, he saw the world as it was, and not as the red crude rendering of technology. His Qabbrat was the only place where he could and that was not the world, just another carefully self-crafted prison. But now, he could truly see. See the man before him. His bright, marvelous son. So full of light ! Luke, who didn't even flinched at the sight of his scar-marred face and livid skin. Luke, who immediately saw beyond it and smiled as he truly looked at his father for the first time. Luke, who had his clear blue eyes and blond unruly hair. Luke, who looked so much like Padmé ! He had her nose, and her jaw, and her smile, and the same untamed hope shining in his eyes ! How could he have not seen this before ? His son, Padmé's son !

And, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Anakin smiled. A real smile, full of love and tenderness and pride. The kind of smile that only Padmé ever saw.

“Now, go, my son. Leave me.”

As he said those words, Luke started nodding his head in disagreement.

“No, you're coming with me. I'll not leave you here, I've got to save you !”

Such determination. The idea of leaving him there to his rightful and deserved end wasn't even an option to him ! How could he love him so much despite everything, Anakin couldn't comprehend but Force! how grateful he was for his son's unlimited ability to do so. For it was precisely what gave him the strength to snuff Vader out of existence, to turn back to the light after having been so completely lost in the dark for so long.

“You already have, Luke.” he said and before Luke could argue he added “ You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister, you were right.”

His sister...He'd never get to know her now. Perhaps it was for the best...He couldn't hurt her now, as he would certainly have. Or more certainly already had. But the thought of her and the presence of Luke brought him to that oh so long searched peace, and another smile graced his lips as he left the life finally leaving him. As his forces vanished for good, he slowly collapsed against the shuttle plank. He didn't deserve the tears Luke was shedding for him as he assured him he would not leave him.

Oh Luke, my dear Luke, may you live forever in happiness and in the light, with those you love and who love you back.

Consciousness left him and he felt his heart stop, yet he strangely was more aware than ever. The Force was cradling him gently and he understood that he was becoming one with it. It was all around him, within him. He was a young child again in the loving embrace of his mother. Yet...he was not alone. Next to him, a presence he now realised he had craved for all those years. Obi-Wan. And also, somehow...Yoda. They were both there, guiding him to the Netherworld of the Force. All he could see was light, but he clearly heard the voice of his former master:

“You have earned your rest, my padawan. But...not yet.”

“Much to do, you still have” Yoda added in a compassionate tone.

What ? It didn't make sense. He fulfilled the prophecy, he destroyed the Sith. He died. What more could be done ?

“Everything.” Obi-Wan replied. “I'm so sorry to ask this of you Anakin, but this is not over. But worry not, my dear friend. We will be with you. Always.”

Anakin didn't understand their meaning. He was at peace, at long last. He called himself Anakin and not Vader anymore. He was done. Please, let him be done.

But when had Anakin ever had what he wanted ?

The Force shifted around him. The light dimmed. Everything felt more solid. The ground beneath him was rough, and the air was hot. Voices were calling out to him. He smelt sulfur. Sulfur...Lava...Mustafar !

His eyes jerked open.

Chapter Text

He was lying on the ground. 

After the blessed nothingness of the Netherworld, the reality of the world and the feeling of his own body took his breath away, and his muscles all contracted at once, making him jerk to his side, gasping. His reptilian brain was overstimulated and completely stressed out by this drastic change of state, and he couldn't concentrate enough to understand where he was, or what was happening to him, as his heartbeat was erratic and he struggled to catch his breath, searching desperately for the artificial rhythm that would bring oxygen into his burned lungs. Propped up on an elbow, his mind was assaulted by his senses. The air was dry, hot, and smelled of molten rock. He could hear someone calling his name. Under his fingers, he could feel the bumps and cracks of the stone.

That simple fact brought him out of his shock as fast as lightspeed. Looking down at his hand, he saw flesh. No cybernetic, but fully fleshed hand. And he was seeing it in full color, with his own eyes. With a deliberately slow movement that allowed him to feel the dust under the tip of his fingers and the smallest rocks in his palm, he lifted his hand to his face. It was calloused, after a lifetime of work and tinkering and lightsaber practice. Flexing it, he marveled at the fast response of his nerves and the sensation of his muscles. Sitting properly, he lifted his right hand and found the tightly sealed leather glove that covered his prosthetic.

He then became aware of his breathing. It was easy, smooth, and...natural. He didn't have to fight for it, and air didn't hurt all the way down to his trachea. The ever-constant sound of his respirator was gone. Before he could think about it, he brought his left hand to his neck and found only soft skin and tunic. No armor. He was wearing his old Jedi outfit. 

Looking up, he took in the environment in front of him. He was sitting on the flat stone of an island in the middle of a lake of lava, at the bottom of a deep pit. The bright color of magma hurt his eyes, used as he was to seeing things filtered by his optical lenses. It didn't look like Mustafar, yet the place was strangely familiar. He wasn't sure, but it seemed like a voice called his name again.

Nothing made sense. What trick had the old man and the green troll pulled on him? Was this some way to punish him? What was he doing in this place, in his old body? Was this a vision? Somewhere in the Netherworld? Why was he feeling so alive ? He couldn't be alive...He let his head fall in his hands (and marveled at the silky sensation of his hair) and sighed. Why could nothing ever be simple? 

A hand gently came to rest on his shoulder.

“Master? Can you hear me ?”

His newly beating heart stopped all over again, and his easy breath caught in his throat. Following the voice, Anakin raised his eyes, and a deep sadness clutched his soul. Ahsoka was staring at him, worry plain over her teenage face. She was so young! She had stood tall and proud the last time he had seen her...when he killed her. Yet she was here, right next to him, concerned about his well-being.

I won't leave you! Not this time!

Disgust replaced sadness. Disgust with himself. How could he have ever turned his blade on her? Deep in his mind, the artificial voice of Vader was whispering: Jedi. Traitor. She abandoned me. Had she? She left when the Jedi Council turned on her, like he had, right? His Padawan, brave and fierce and light. She was so much like Luke, and the only thing he ever did right within the Order. The last reminder of Anakin Skywalker to Darth Vader. He had been so busy trying to kill himself that he hadn't given a damn about killing her.

“Are you okay, Master ?” she asked, worry knitting her brow, as his internal struggle must have been clear as day. 

Unable to believe in her gentle presence beside him, he reached for her face before holding back. Don't touch her, you're going to hurt her. Again.

“Anakin, please talk to us,” another voice pleaded.

His heart missed another beat, but it was not sadness that startled him this time. His face hardened and his fist tightened. Obi-Wan appeared behind Ahsoka, taking a step toward them. Before he realized it, Anakin was on his feet, putting distance between himself and his former master. The sudden movement made his head spin, and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan gasped at Anakin's defensive stance. His eyes were fixed on Obi-Wan, cold and angry as a thousand different thoughts and emotions rushed over him. Obi-Wan, who watched over him and trained him, who fought back to back with him, who looked after Luke...who betrayed him, left him to die on this lava bank, put him in that Force damned suit, who turned Padmé against him...

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started again as he took another step to get closer, “What...”

His question died on the spot as Anakin reflexively reached for his lightsaber with a snarl. Hurt was immediately painted all over Obi-Wan, complete incomprehension passing between him and Ahsoka, as she rose to her feet.

The shroud of the Dark Side had lifted and Anakin could now think more clearly than he had in years. He knew deep within him that some truths he thought certain in the past were no more than facts distorted by the Dark Side. Yet, he couldn't tell the truth from the lie when it came to Obi-Wan. Too much bad blood.

Anakin realized his lightsaber was gone and his first guess was that Obi-Wan, or Ahsoka had taken it from him, but it was nowhere in sight.

“Anakin, it's me,” Obi-Wan said desperately, “I'm not going to hurt you! What has the Son done to you ?”

The Son? What in all the Sith hell was he talking about? The Son was long dead... 

It suddenly hit him. Looking around one more time, he understood why this place felt familiar. He had come here before. Mortis. The lair of the Son, next to his tower. He turned his attention back to his master and apprentice, and focused on the details he had failed to notice before. Ahsoka, young and sporting her old lightsabers. Obi-Wan, his hair barely greying and only small crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

His hand fell back to his side as he shook his head.

“It doesn't make sense...” he whispered. His voice came rough and hard as if he hadn't used it in years. He stumbled as he tried to take a step back, struggling to keep on his feet. Ahsoka reflexively reached out to him, but her hands froze as Anakin recoiled from her. Slowly, he realized his whole body felt weird, like it wasn't his own, too light, too...comfortable. His legs felt both stronger and more unstable at the same time, which made him dizzy. 

“Talk to us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan pressed, “We can't help you if we don't know what the Son did to you.”

“When are we ?” Anakin asked.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan exchanged a look, baffled. It was clearly not what they were expecting. 

“You mean the date ?” Ahsoka wanted to clarify. 

He simply nodded. Her answer grew his dizziness tenfold: almost the end of the second year of the Clone Wars. Rubbing a hand against his eyes, Anakin commented, more to himself than for them:

“It is not possible. How…”

The confusion in his companions grew deeper as he said so. He couldn't grasp his situation, and they couldn't pinpoint the source of his puzzlement. Diplomatically, Obi-Wan asked:

“Anakin, what is the last thing you remember ?”

It earned him a suspicious look from the former Sith Lord, but Anakin answered honestly:

“I was dying.” 

That statement caused them to gasp:

“What ?!” Ahsoka shouted while Obi-Wan looked at him straight in the eyes.

“The Death Star was collapsing. The Rebels managed to destroy the core reactor. Again. But Luke...he tried to get me out. Even though I was already half dead. Luke...”

The simple mention of his son's name gave him clarity. He was a general, a former Sith Lord, who used to command fear and respect and lead men into battle. He wasn't some cowering child. He needed to get a hold of himself! Taking a deep breath to clear the fog over his head, he straightened his back and stood tall, hands clasped behind his back, gaze focused and hard. 

Make sense of it all first, self-pity later.

His change of posture surprised Ahsoka, and her eyes grew wider while Obi-Wan frowned deeply.

“What rebels are you talking about? What is this Death Star? Who is Luke ?”

Was this a test? Was he serious? Anakin's cold stare bore into Obi-Wan's, but the man stood his ground.

“You know well,” Anakin responded slowly, his voice still rasped.

“I don't !”

The sincerity in Obi-Wan's eyes was poignant. So Anakin tentatively reached out with the Force. 

There. 

The bond he fought hard to rip apart. 

Carefully, like approaching a wild beast, Anakin brushed his mind against Obi-Wan's, who felt it and let his shields down. The all too familiar sensation of Obi-Wan's mind inside his own dripped slowly as Anakin kept his own shields high and unmovable, with the slightest crack to filter what came from outside. There was no lie or deception within the man, only a frantic need to understand and concern for his friend. And as Anakin felt all this in Obi-Wan's mind, his former master must have caught a glimpse of the maelstrom through the crack, as soon as, like a blanket, Obi-Wan's presence wrapped around him, soothing, comforting. Just like he used to do when, in their first years together, Anakin came awake from visions and nightmares. Immediately, Anakin felt his shoulders slump. He had missed this! He had missed Obi-Wan. No matter how things had ended between them, he had missed him. When he had struck him down, when the dying remnants of their bond had disappeared, oh, how lonely had he felt! Unbearable loneliness. And it was so much more confusing now, because Anakin could no longer tell if he loved or hated the man.

Choosing not to dwell on the matter, Anakin asked :

“What is the last thing you remember ?”

“When the Father came to our ship without you, I suspected something was afoot,” Obi-Wan explained. “He told me you came to him for guidance, then here to confront the Son. I had a bad feeling about it, so I came after you. I found you lying on the ground, unconscious and alone. I tried to wake you up, but nothing worked. I even tried using the Force through our bond, but it seemed like nothing could bring you back to this world. I contacted Ahsoka so she could help me bring you back to the ship. She'd just arrived when you woke up.”

“I put the ship back together, so I flew it here. I managed to land in a relatively flat area close by, you'd have been proud !” Ahsoka added. “Then I came down thanks to a mix of rope and Force, and luck. Took me forever, but you hogged the two speeder-bikes.”

“How long have I been unconscious ?”

“Well, it's been about an hour since I found you, so maybe more.”

Anakin focused on remembering what had happened the first time he came here, ages ago. Bit by bit, he recreated the map of his memories. He had gone to the Father, who had advised him to seek an answer by following the will of the Force. He remembered the ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn telling him to find a third option. That he would face his demons and save the universe. Well, he had taken his sweet time for that one… He then had come down here, and the Son had offered him a vision of his future. But just a glimpse, enough to twist the truth and make him make the wrong choice, so the Father had erased those memories...which were now...back? Ugh, he could feel a headache coming. But yes, things had definitely transpired differently last time.

“Was there anything amiss within me? With my Force signature ?” he asked Obi-Wan.

“Yes. The Force moved around you strangely. It even felt like it was working against me when I called upon it to wake you. It was flowing inside you like blood in your veins, like a net trapping your mind inside your body, unwilling to give it back. I never felt anything like this before. I sometimes felt something like that when you had visions in your sleep, years ago. Was that what you saw? A vision ?”

“It cannot be. A vision cannot be this detailed, this intense, and most certainly not this long. I did not just see those things, I lived them. Every part of it.”

“I never heard about a vision lasting an entire hour either,” Ahsoka remarked.

“It was not a mere hour for me.”

“How long then ?” Obi-Wan wondered.

“Twenty-five years.”

If Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had looked incredulous before, now they were well past it. Obi-Wan was even at a loss for words, which in itself deserved to be marked down in History books. 

“Alright, that never happened to anyone, like ever,” Ahsoka pondered, “But neither being stranded on a Force-ruled planet, inhabited by literal embodiments of the Force, so, yes weird, but are we surprised at that point ?”

The corner of Anakin's mouth turned slightly upward at this, Ahsoka's effort to relieve the tension working just a bit.

“You're telling us that, in the span of an hour, you spend half a lifetime in a vision ?” Obi-Wan clarified, “No wonder you're so confused! Is this the Son's doing ?”

“I could not say,” Anakin admitted, “I am still not convinced it was a vision at all.”

“What else could it be ?”

At that, Anakin's temper flared up:

“How could I know! I just died. I lived my life, as poorly as ever. And I paid for my mistakes with it, with only Luke to cry for me. I was in the Netherworld for an instant, then I woke up here. Everything is a mess, and I understand as little as you do. So stop pestering me, Kenobi !”

He spat the name like an insult, and the still-open bond between them resonated with anguish. Which awoke a jolt of guilt in him.

“Who is Luke ?” Ahsoka asked gently.

At the name, all anger left Anakin as soon as it came. He sighed, shaking his head.

“He's the Light,” he said lovingly.

His companions exchanged a look, and Anakin reoriented the conversation toward a safer subject:

“We need to find out what happened. And find my lightsaber along the way. If I remember correctly, the Son took it.”

“We have to speak to the Father about it all,” Obi-Wan agreed, “We cannot let the Son leave the planet, and we need to understand what he did to you. No matter what it was...it has changed you...”

Anakin considered him with an arched eyebrow. Wasn't that just stating the obvious...But the looks his Padawan and former master were giving him made him pause, and for the first time since he opened his eyes on this island, he tried to look through theirs. He was here, standing motionless, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze cold and his emotions a hurricane at the other end of their bonds, trying to make sense and explain with a steel voice underlined by a Coruscanti accent imposed by decades among Imperial top hats...For them, it had only been a couple of hours since the last time he'd been his old passionate, brash, and always-on-the-move self. He must look like a completely different person to them. Which wasn't entirely wrong. He was barely making sense of it all himself, so the situation must be hard on them as well. But he couldn't just unwind his frustration on them. It wasn't fair. It was the way of the Dark Side. And Anakin realized he would rather jump in the lava right now than go down that road again. It cost everyone everything. 

So Anakin relaxed his composure, trying hard to remember his old mannerisms, and said as gently as he could:

“Let's go to the Father. With luck, he has the answers.”

He gestured for them to take the lead, and, with a last inquisitive glance, Obi-Wan turned toward the two bikes. Beside him, Anakin could feel Ahsoka's eyes on him. He searched for words to appease her, but he had long fallen out of that kind of practice, and all that threatened to come out was a military rebuke, so he remained silent. 

Intending to follow Obi-Wan, Anakin took a step and immediately fell on his knees as his sense of balance was completely upset by his newly regained flesh limbs. The combined weight of his armor, his life-support system, and his prosthetics no longer weighing him down, so he struggled between his muscles knowing what to do, and his brain mixing up living parts and mechanical ones. It had been so long since he'd been more human than machine...He felt Ahsoka kneel beside him, offering her extended hands, silently waiting for permission. Still afraid to hurt her in any way, Anakin hesitated. But he couldn't just stay here, he had to move, and obviously, with someone's help. With a sigh, he nodded, and Ahsoka passed his arm around her shoulder, providing steady support as he stood again. Obi-Wan, who certainly guessed he would have been rebuffed, stood a few meters away.

As he sat behind her on the speeder, he was confronted by how easy it was to trust Ahsoka again. Where just being near Obi-Wan was cause of great turmoil and he still couldn't decide if he wanted to hug or behead the man, Ahsoka's light drew him close immediately. As they rose to the surface, he remembered how hurt he had been when she left. He had felt like a failure for not being able to train a padawan properly. But in the end, she was one of the few skilled enough to survive Order 66 and the Inquisitorus. 

When they finally reached floor level, she pointed toward the ship. She had managed to land it between two sharp ridges on a steep ledge. He allowed himself to rest his hand on her shoulder:

“Proud indeed,” he said with a small smirk.

“Told you,” she replied with a smirk of her own. 

As Obi-Wan led the way inside the ship, Ahsoka helped Anakin again and they agreed it would be best if she was the one to fly their shuttle. In the state Anakin was in, he would just crash the thing again.

“And I spend too much time putting it back together !”

“There's one thing I don't understand,” remarked Obi-Wan as everyone was taking their seat. “While we were down there, the Son had all the opportunities to steal the ship, now that it's functional. Yet he didn't.”

“Maybe he is just as shaken as we are,” Anakin wondered aloud, “I do not think he expected what happened. He only wanted to give me a glimpse of my future, in a light that would benefit him.”

“And instead, you saw all of it,” Obi-Wan concluded. “Maybe it's because of the planet. Both you and this place are uncommonly strong with the Force. Maybe he didn't judge accurately the extent of what little things could do to you in such a...favorable environment.”

Anakin felt suddenly too tired to think about it, so he just said flatly:

“Maybe.”

Ahsoka fired the engines, and soon they were in the air, heading for the Father's monastery. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka kept chatting with mild voices, trying to formulate a plan for the hours to come and hypothesize as to what could have happened to Anakin. Who, for his part, remained silent. They were talking about fighting the Son, about confrontation, about how they could get back to the fleet's flagship to go on with the war...Ironically, it was all this talk of war that drained the fight out of Anakin. He suddenly felt every bit of his 46 years as he recognized he'd spent his whole life fighting. It used to be the air he breathed, the blood in his veins, even before he became a Sith. He'd been fighting just to stay alive ever since he was a child. And now, he was so very tired of it. 

He didn't want to be here. 

He had died and wished he had remained so, as peace had finally found him. As violence was his everyday, he had never truly understood and valued the concept of peace, but now that he'd had a taste of it, he wanted it back. But he was thrown into war again, denied the merciful embrace of death. Perhaps because he didn't deserve it. The Force had judged him for his mistakes and sent him back to make everything right before being granted what he wanted. Was that it? A chance to start again and make sure the future he saw (came from ?) never happened? The enormity of the task and all it implied crashed down on him with the weight of a planet as he let his head fall into his hand, and he couldn't hold the desperate sight that escaped his lips. Watching in the distance by the viewport, he didn't bother to hide from the others how weary he was, from his bones to his very soul. 

He felt Obi-Wan's gaze on him, and once again, Anakin couldn't figure out what to feel toward the man. His head knew he'd believed in a lie for two decades, but his heart was still tangled in the lasting emotions this lie brought about. And, sooner than later, he would have to address it. 

Just as he'd have to face the Jedi again...

And Palpatine. 

That simple fact awoke a fear so strong that he started having trouble breathing again. Palpatine...Chancellor and friendly mentor. Who manipulated him into destroying everything he held dear. Who enslaved him all over again and in the worst way possible. So strong in the Force that he would notice instantly something was amiss with Anakin. He didn't stand a chance! The only reason he'd been able to kill him before was because the Emperor had not expected his betrayal. Now he would understand that Anakin knew! He would act accordingly, with all his wit, and Anakin wouldn't be able to do a thing. He would be beneath his heel once more, and it would start over, or even worse!

It was only when Ahsoka knelt in front of him and gathered his hands in hers that Anakin realized they were shaking. His breathing was ragged, he couldn't stop the trembling, and his vision tunneled as a full panic attack hit him. Ahsoka was whispering something he couldn't make sense of as his mind was focused on the primal fear Palpatine instilled in him. He saw Obi-Wan join them and put his own hands on theirs, and a steady wave of warmth started to spread in his chest, evening his breath, slowing his heartbeat, and allowing him control over his muscles, as the two of them used their Force bond to calm him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he focused on their presence. When he opened them again, the panic was gone. His master and padawan were looking at him silently, but he could feel their worry.

Untangling their hands and looking away, he said lowly:

“It's nothing,” ashamed of his weakness.

Fortunately, none of them chose to comment. Instead, Ahsoka stood and said:

“We've arrived.”

Indeed, as he looked out the viewport, Anakin recognized the tower of the monastery. Ahsoka had landed the ship in a corner of the courtyard. He stood, searched within himself for the strength and resolve to stand on his legs by himself and walk toward the exit of the ship.

“Let's go then,” he said in a voice he wanted firm.

It was still night, but the stars shone brightly and the crystal atop the tower bathed the place in a soft white light. The Father was there, standing on the platform overlooking the whole area. He stood motionless, his hands crossed before him, gazing down at them. His face was unreadable as his eyes followed them while they approached him. His attention then fell on Anakin and a deep frown appeared on his features. 

“I'm afraid we require your help once again,” Obi-Wan said loudly so his voice could carry to the Father. “Your Son keeps misbehaving !”

The Father remained silent, his eyes fixated on Anakin as if laying his soul bare. Anakin held his gaze, waiting for any kind of response. After minutes of silence, Anakin heard Ahsoka mumbling under her breath:

“This is getting awkward...”

As if taking his cue, the Father held his hands on his sides and floated down to them,  strode straight past Obi-Wan, and looked Anakin up and down.

“This...is far beyond misbehaving,” he finally said in his deep, echoing voice. “He broke the laws of time. And the Force seems to have allowed it.”

“Do you know what happened to me ?” Anakin asked eagerly. “Was all of this a vision? Or did I...travel back in time somehow ?”

“Neither! And both !” 

Good old anger spiked again at that. On either side of the Force, he had always hated cryptic:

“Which one? Make up your mind.”

“Does it matter to know which one? What happened happened, and you know what you know. I could try to erase it...”

“You already did that once. You and your son are not welcome in my mind anymore.”

“I don't think the Force would let me, anyway.”

“What do you mean, the Force would not let you ?” Obi-Wan intervened.

“It wouldn't feel right to try,” the Father explained, “Everything around you, Chosen One, screams of the Force intervention. You are where you are now because It willed it. What happened to you happened for a reason, and it cannot be changed. What can lie ahead. You've been given a chance to change your path, and with it, the path of the galaxy.”

So he had guessed right. He blew everything to pieces, so now he had to clean the mess. The general and leader in him couldn't argue, the punishment was fitting the crime. There was just one problem:

“I cannot,” he said, defeated. “I am not strong enough.”

“You are,” the Father said firmly. “You only have to discover it. As I told you before, let go of your guilt !”

“I cannot. I couldn't do it the first time, and my guilt was almost trivial then, compared to now.”

“If Luke could forgive you, so can you,” the Father said placidly.

That was a low blow, and Anakin's jaw clenched tightly. 

“And you don't have to do everything by yourself. You are not alone, after all,” the Father added, pointing to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka.

“He's right, master. Whatever it is you need to do, you can count on me.”

“On me as well,” Obi-Wan added, “I thought you knew that.”

Did he? No. Anakin had loved Obi-Wan but had always been wary of him when it came to his inner troubles. He wanted to trust the man to share his demons, but he couldn't trust the Jedi, knowing Obi-Wan would always put the Order and the Republic before him. Refusing to think about it now, Anakin said:

“I won't be able to change anything if we don't stop your Son anyway.”

“Anakin's right,” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard, “As long as the Son poses a threat, not much can be done. How did this end...your first time around ?”

“If memory serves well, we were all here. You, Father, tried to convince your son to resist the Dark Side and stay on the planet. He would have none of it. So you took the blade he used to kill the Daughter and turned it on yourself. As his power flows through you, in doing so, you took it away, and I stabbed him. You both died.”

“If we could change that too, it would be nice,” Ahsoka remarked.

“One thing has already changed: I don't have my lightsaber. The Son must have kept it.”

“If there is no other way to protect the galaxy, then so shall it be,” the Father said sadly.

Something tugged at Anakin. He couldn't say what. Every instinct he had told him to go for a fight. But his weariness lingered, and he felt unrest. Doing everything as he had done before would lead back to the same result: catastrophe. If he was here to change things, better start as soon as possible, and rushing into this headfirst without any other plan than Stab-Kill was not the best idea. Qui-Gon's voice echoed in his mind: Look deeper. You will find another way . Another way...He had always fixed his problems by using his lightsaber and brute force. 

Ever since I've known you, you've been playing with droids. 

I used to put them together. Now I only take them apart.

The memory came out of nowhere to crash his train of thought, reminding him of a simple truth. He used to fix things, finding the source of the problem and working to solve it to make the whole thing work again. And he'd always been good at it. Watto had made quite a lot of money on his ability to repair the unrepairable. Was this the solution? To “fix” the Son? The dark being had shown the good in him through his love for his sister and his father. He had not wanted the Father dead, in the end. Could the Son be saved the same way he had been? Could Anakin even pull this off? As he remembered his son's face, Anakin resolved to at least try. He owed it to Luke and his unshakable faith in him.

“I will try to save him,” Anakin said.

The three others turned to him, baffled.

“If I'm met with failure, then we shall kill him, as we did the first time,” he said looking to the Father “but first, I would have a try at this. There is good in him, you know it, I saw it.”

“Anakin, I appreciate that you don't think with your lightsaber for once, but surely, if the Father cannot bring the Son back to the Light, how could you ?”

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, who added apologetically:

“I trust your abilities, but...”

“I understand your point,” Anakin cut.

“Then how ?”

Anakin sighed and looked at the Father again, who was staring at him with renewed hope and gratitude. He then turned back to Obi-Wan:

“Because we are the same, the Son and I.”

At this, Obi-Wan seemed almost outraged:

“ That couldn't be further from the truth. I know you, and you are nothing like him.”

“You don't know a thing about me. Not anymore.”

Obi-Wan gasped and took a step back, while Ahsoka barked something angrily at him. Anakin didn't mean it as cruel or tried to hurt Obi-Wan deliberately. But it was the truth. Obi-Wan had ignored a lot of things about Anakin the first time, and now he was even more foreign to the man.

“If you try, you will first need to clear your mind, or you will fall easy prey to my son.”

Taking this opportunity to regain his composure, Obi-Wan wholeheartedly agreed:

“Indeed. We should all meditate while we have the time. There are many emotions to release into the Force, and we will need all our focus to face the Son.”

Saying so, he sat on his heels in the typical meditation position. Ahsoka and the Father did the same, forming a circle waiting to be closed by Anakin. Except he remained standing, apprehension gnawing at him. He didn't know how to do that anymore. The only meditation he mastered was Dark Side meditation, which required him to focus on emotions such as anger, hatred, and physical pain. He'd never been very good at Light Side meditation, and he hadn't called to the Force since he woke up here, except for simple perceptive skills. This was different. This was deeper, more complex. And technically, he'd only come back from the Dark Side a few hours ago.

The others must have sensed his unease as they watched him questioningly. The Father asked:

“Don't you trust the Force ?”

“It's not the Force I don't trust...”

“But yourself.” 

Anakin clenched his jaw once more. He held no illusions. He could feel the Dark Side lurking inside him. Weakened, but still there. Whispering in every burst of anger, in every doubt, in every habit. He feared that if he called to the Force, the Dark Side would wake and be the first to answer. He feared that, without Luke, he would be seduced and fall again. He would hurt Ahsoka again. Obi-Wan would mutilate him again. And there would be no one to bring him back this time. He was a weak monster, after all.

Still kneeling, the Father gestured for him to join them:

“Would you trust me to guide you ?”

That was indeed a good question. By bringing them here, the Father had shown poor judgment, yet, of all the people present, he was the most attuned with the Force and the one who understood Anakin's ordeal the most. He was not as deeply connected to his old life as Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. So, surprisingly, Anakin found that yes, he could trust the Father to guide him. So he nodded and, reluctantly, knelt as well, at the center of the circle, at the center of the courtyard.

“Can we help in any way ?” Ahsoka asked.

Sweet, kind Ahsoka, always willing to help no matter what...

“Yes. Enter your meditative trance. Ground yourself into the Light, and you will ground it here. You are his teacher and his student, you know him, and even if he is now different, he is still the same. Show the way.”

They both nodded and closed their eyes. Anakin couldn't tell if the release of their emotion came easily, but they fell into a meditative state fast enough. 

“Focus on your friend's presence,” the Father instructed. “They are your beacon in the dark, your anchor in the currents of the Force. If you feel yourself getting lost, search for them. Now close your eyes, and call to the Force.”

Anakin extended his senses and let his perception brush against Ahsoka and Obi-Wan's Force signatures, letting them soak his mind so that they became a background aura as familiar as his own thoughts. He tried to empty his mind, but his awareness kept coming back to the amazing steadiness of his breath. It used to be so disturbing and loud that it kept him from proper rest, and made sleep barely impossible. His respirator had become a background noise filling his days and nights, preventing any kind of blissful silence. Always ticking like a clock measuring his life. Without it, his breath was now soft and quiet, easy and painless. But it still drew his focus away from the fear still eating at him. But once he realized that fear was there, his thoughts kept circling back to it. The familiar cold of the Dark Side was brushing against his skin, so he held on to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's light, holding the cold at bay.

“Feel, don't think,” the Father said, echoing Qui-Gon's words from so long ago. “Let your mind go blank and the Force fill it.”

Anakin couldn't do that. Two decades of Dark Side meditation had left him unable to do so. He was reflexively searching for something to focus on. His fear, the disconcerting absence of physical pain, his remaining distrust toward Obi-Wan...He was upset and afraid, so his grasp on his companion's presence was shaky at best, and all he could think of was no good. He tried to remember that wonderful sense of peace he felt as Luke held him as life was leaving him. Luke...The thought of his son lit a beacon inside his heart. Like a nocturnal animal, the Dark Side retreated deep inside of him as Luke's memory illuminated Anakin from within. His love had been so pure, so unconditional. How frightened he must have been when he faced him and the Emperor, yet he still came, still fought, his firm belief in his father's goodness had made him stronger than Palpatine, and his kindness had given him victory in the face of Sidious' certainty that he could have whatever he wanted. Luke was everything that was good in this world and Anakin loved him for it. His love for Luke was about Luke himself, not about how he felt about Luke, it was selfless, and that was what saved him. 

That realization made everything else fade away. It erased every feeling, every thought, leaving nothing but the sweet and forgotten embrace of the Force untainted. It was wrapping itself around Anakin like a soft blanket of warmth, absorbing all the darkness from Anakin. Oh, how could he have ever forgotten this feeling ?! A sob escaped him as tears started rolling down his cheeks. Tears of relief. 

It was like coming home. 

It was the warm Naboo sun on a summer morning by the lake. 

It was the 501's cheers after a mission well done against the Separatist army. 

It was Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's presence right by his side. 

It was his mother's tender smile.

It was Padmé's bright laughter.

Padmé. She was alive . When they leave this place, he would see her again. He would hold her again. Uncontainable joy exploded in him as he knew that he would no longer miss her soft voice. Her eyes, full of hope and light and cheekiness and defiance. The softness of her curls. The scent of her skin. The taste of her lips. The way she said his name. All the things he had destroyed himself.

The joy disappeared in a heartbeat, washed away by the cold, hard truth: he had killed her. She was trying to save him, and he crushed her throat. Horror seized him at the memory of her body falling to the ground. In rage, he had killed her and almost killed Luke and his sister along with her. Just like he had slaughtered the younglings in the Temple. Defenseless, scared children. Whose only mistake was to be there. He had snuffed the life out of them brutally with the blade of his lightsaber days before he was to be a father himself. That act in itself had denied him the right to be a father. He didn't deserve his children. He had executed those poor kids and choked the mother of his own. He had butchered the Separatist leaders and enjoyed it. He had mercilessly killed the Jedi in the Temple and hunted down those who escaped. He had taken the lives of thousands without remorse, without a single afterthought, and even took pleasure in the suffering of others sometimes. He had stood motionless as the Death Star obliterated Alderaan and forced its princess to watch. He had lied, threatened, maimed, tortured, subjugated, and caused so much fear that he had become the most hated man in the galaxy. He had destroyed all he had once sworn to protect, from the love of his life to the galaxy itself. The sob that escaped him this time was made of nothing but despair.

All those crimes, all those atrocities punched him in the guts with so much force he barely managed not to throw up. His consciousness was thrown back into the present and out of the arms of the Force. As the weight of all those deaths crashed on his chest, he fell on his hands. His actions for the past twenty years were clawing at his heart, tearing it apart in a much-deserved pain. Hot tears were now streaming down his face, and he could swear the little boy he used to be was standing in front of him, in his slave rags, his eyes accusing and his lips twisted in disgust.

You screwed up EVERYTHING!

Unable to contain it longer, Anakin let out a long, strangled cry that ripped his throat and expressed all of his guilt, his agony, and his self-loathing.

Obi-Wan's heart broke. Within the last hours, it had gone through so many shocks, bumps, and sucker-punches that he didn't believe it could be shaken more. But the sound of Anakin shattering right before him proved how wrong he was.

He should be used to it by now, worrying about Anakin. It had been his everyday for the past twelve years. From the slight concern of “will Anakin ever be able to find his way to his classes without getting late because of the five droids he built in between'' to the outright distress of no longer being able to find his Force signature in the middle of a space battle, Obi-Wan could name every shade of disquiet the boy awoke in him. But today, like everything on this planet, was different and far more intense. Their time in this strange place affected Anakin the most. In a way, even more so than Ahsoka, who literally died and came back to life, for it forced him to reconsider all his life and everything he thought he knew about himself. Anakin had always rejected the mantle of Chosen One, yet here, he had to face a reality he didn't want to accept. 

As Anakin had entered meditation, Obi-Wan had watched the world itself react to it, as the engravings on the ground lit up the same way they did when Anakin tamed the Daughter and the Son. The Force had embraced Anakin lovingly, tenderly, like two beings who've been kept apart for too long and finally reunited, Anakin welcoming it into him and the Force all but too happy to fill him again and cradle him into its arms. It felt warm and safe. Anakin had let out a sob, and tears started falling below his closed eyelids, as that feeling of peace and longing anchored itself into him. Obi-Wan couldn't help a small smile. Which soon disappeared. 

Within a split second, Anakin's mood changed completely. The Force was still holding him, but something inside him had summoned such a massive wave of guilt, it washed everything else away with the blind power and ferocity of a tsunami, so powerful that Anakin fell on his hands, his tears now of pure despair. Where there was but peace and comfort inside Anakin's mind, there was now nothing but agony, remorse, horror, and an amount of self-loathing too big to be contained. 

And the cry Anakin let out would forever echo in Obi-Wan's nightmares. It broke the silence like an explosion, reasoning with all the emotions Anakin couldn't keep in himself anymore, and never would Obi-Wan have imagined such a sound coming out of him. It reverberated along their bond, crushing his heart with Anakin's pain, doubling his own. He heard Ahsoka sob as well, as she, too, was assaulted by it. The planet itself reacted again to Anakin's power and emotions. The sky had turned dark and cloudy, the air heavy with electricity, the wind speeding up, flapping their clothes and hair violently.

Anakin was now holding his head between his hands, squeezing it, as if trying to crush it, eyes unseeing and red as tears kept streaming down his face. His emotions spiked, catching his breath, squashing his heart. When suddenly Obi-Wan felt echoing in him a deep desire for death, he couldn't stand it anymore. 

He stood and took the few steps that separated him from Anakin and, in an unusual physical display of affection, gently took Anakin's shoulder and brought him into his arms to hold him. Anakin fought it immediately, pushing him away both physically and inside the Force.

Get away from me!

Even though Anakin hadn't said a word, his command was as good as yelled in his ears through the Force, and the ground cracked around his feet. Obi-Wan couldn't tell if Anakin was rejecting him out of fury, out of a feeling of being unworthy of Obi-Wan's affection, out of a self-defense reflex, or out of hatred for Obi-Wan and himself. Obi-Wan didn't care. He brought Anakin back against him, soothing him with a low, gentle shush. But Anakin kept fighting, screaming. And the more he fought, the more the wind would slap Obi-Wan mercilessly. A thunderclap deafened him, and the ground started to shake. Then he felt the Force tighten around his throat painfully and began suffocating quickly. Ahsoka rushed to help, not by pushing them apart, but by taking Anakin's hands into her own, whispering gently. Her touch seemed to quiet the fight inside of Anakin, and the pressure around Obi-Wan's airways lessened, as the storm around them lessened.

They stayed like this for a long time, Obi-Wan holding Anakin against him, Ahsoka drawing circles on his hands with her thumbs, calmingly, until Anakin's sobs became silent and his body limp. As Obi-Wan and Ahsoka looked at each other, he noticed they were both crying too, as Anakin felt empty between them. 

No matter what the Son had done or intended to do to Anakin, it had worked. 

Anakin was utterly broken.

Chapter Text

They stayed like this for quite a while. Probably minutes, but to Anakin, it felt like hours. His mind had gone blank to prevent him from breaking irrevocably. He felt nothing. Just the breeze against his face, Ahsoka's skin against his hands, Obi-Wan's tunic on his neck. It was soothing and grounding. After the hurricane of emotions that had trampled everything inside him, the tide had receded, leaving behind nothing but ruins and broken debris. Stillness settled over him, that deafening calm after the storm. Yet, it offered him clarity. The fog on the path before him was lifting, and Anakin knew where he was supposed to go. The path was tortuous, full of bumps and twists, but it was the right one, he could feel it. 

He straightened himself. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan reacted to the movement immediately.

“Master? How do you feel ?” Ahsoka asked, still holding his hand.

“I'm...better,” he replied with a soft, small smile. “I'm not alright, but that will come. With time. And effort.”

“What do you need ?” Obi-Wan asked gently.

“For now, to deal with the Son, and get...us out of here.”

“Are you...in any shape to face the Son right now ?” Obi-Wan remarked with plain concern.

“Yes. I am not boasting or lying,” he added when he saw their expression, “I know I just went through...a lot. But I do feel able to face the Son like I need to.”

“What do you mean ?”

“I guess we will have to wait and see,” he answered cryptically. 

He turned to the Father, who stood motionless a few yards away from them, giving them privacy. He had watched the whole ordeal without interfering, which Anakin was grateful for. 

“You should get ready,” he said to his companions. “We will need all of our strength. I require but a moment with the Father.”

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan nodded as he stood up. As he walked toward him, the Father gestured for him to follow him:

“Come walk with me.”

A door appeared in the wall, leading back into the monastery. They remained silent as they moved further away from Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, and the door remained open so that the Jedi Master and the Padawan didn't lose sight of them. The corridor was dimly lit, its walls and ceiling beautifully engraved, like old celestial maps.

“You will not tell me, then ?” Anakin asked. “What truly happened to me...”

“As I told you before, in the grand scheme of things, it is of little consequence. Did you travel back in time after your death, or were you given a vision so detailed you can't tell the difference? In both cases, you are here, now, with all the knowledge it has given you.”

“So it is my penance.”

“Why do you insist on seeing it as a bad thing? See it more as a gift: the Force has granted you the chance to start over. You have seen where you've gone wrong before. You can now go in another direction.”

“But who's to say I will do better this time ?” Anakin asked, faith in himself nonexistent.

“You are older. Hopefully wiser. And you learn from your mistakes. Now, the only thing standing between you and a better path is but yourself.”

The Father stopped and turned to look at Anakin with eyes full of compassion.

“You have always been your worst enemy. I know so because it is true for every living being. We have desires and demons, both of which we often misunderstand, and it leads us astray. You are fortunate to know where those misinterpreted feelings would lead you if you don't stop and try to have a better grasp on them. Like gathering a crystal for your lightsaber: you have to look inside yourself and overcome your fears. It is never a pleasant step to take, but it must be taken !”

Anakin looked down. Facing his fears...He had never been good at this either. He always turned a blind eye to his own faults, refusing to accept them, thinking it made him lesser, weaker. But in the end, wasn't it what had doomed him? Among many things...

He looked up to glance at Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. The young Togruta was doing a simple Ataru kata, a trick he taught her to help her work through anxiety while perfecting her skills. Obi-Wan corrected her on her stance, and they exchanged friendly smiles. Yes, they would be alright together...

As if reading his mind, the Father said knowingly:

“Don't push people aside anymore. You need them, just as they need you.”

Anakin turned to him again, resolve unyielding for the first time in long weeks:

“If I am to change History, I need to be strong. Steadfast in both spirit and power. Which I am not right now. Darth Sidious is more powerful than I...

“Is he, though ?” the father cut with a sly smile.

“Yes! Everyone keeps telling me I'm the Chosen One, that I have more power than I could dream of. I am powerful, and I know it, but never as much as you all seem to believe. And I spent more than twenty years with four mechanical limbs, trapped within a suit that made me more machine than man. It all weakened my connection to the Force beyond measure, and I have to learn everything again. And Sidious...His mind is unwavering, and he has a far vaster knowledge of the Force than I do. We are already deep within his master plan, few options are left now. I'm not ready. I am not stable enough to even be in his presence now. I am barely out of the Dark, struggling through simple meditation. I have no idea how to undo his plan. Even if I am now aware of much of it, I still ignore many of his contingencies, and I won't get a third chance !”

Anakin sighed heavily, all too aware of the colossal task in front of him. And the first step was facing his mistakes, in the flesh. He'll have to go back to the Jedi Temple and walk among its beautiful golden halls, alive with the sound of laughing younglings and the training exercises of the Initiates, and he'll have to look at the faces of all those people he killed. He'd have to take the rigorous stare of Mace Windu while pretending not to hear him begging to have a flare of good sense once in his life and let him kill Palpatine. He'll have to pretend he didn't see the sprawled body of Cin Drallig every time they cross paths in the dojo. He'll have to not freeze in place every time a youngling walks by...He'll have to face the 501st while trying not to feel sick at how Sidious would turn their undying loyalty with a Force-damned brainwashing chip. He'd have to watch Padmé in the eyes and pretend he didn't destroy her in every way...The sheer terror he felt at the thought of all this left him nauseous already...

“I need time. I'm not ready.”

The Father looked at him intently, brow furrowed:

“But you have decided something.”

“If I remember correctly, time here is different, right? It doesn't flow at the same rate as off-planet.”

“That is correct.”

“Can you tell how much time passes in the galaxy while being here ?”

Starting to see where Anakin was going, the Father let another sly smile onto his lips:

“I can indeed.”

Anakin stood taller. With the ease of an experienced commander, he addressed the Father, voice steady:

“I offer you this bargain, then. I will do my best to save your son. Then you will let my friends leave this planet. You wanted me to stay and take your place. I cannot do that. But if you agree, I will stay here. Not forever, just long enough for me to...learn how to be myself again. I would greatly appreciate it if you accepted to train me in the ways of the Force that I'm still ignorant of. You want me to be the Chosen One, then show me how. Help me reach my true potential. But I cannot be gone from the world too long. When a year has passed outside, you will tell me, and ready or not, I will go and try to fulfill my destiny.”

The Father considered the man in front of him, his youthful traits not reflecting his inner age. Yet his clear blue eyes were focused. Moving shadows in their depths spoke of darkness not yet completely overcome, but the resolve they showed was clear enough.

“I accept. But I have one condition. I know how today will end. No matter what you do, my son will die, at peace or not. When he is gone, only I will remain. As the balance here is broken, so shall it be in the galaxy, and your war will worsen. But if we are successful, you will learn here how to balance yourself. So when you leave Mortis, the fate of the galaxy and the balance of the Force will rest on your shoulders. I won't be needed anymore. So when you leave, I ask you to fully recognize the burden that will fall on you, to embrace it, and to kill me.”

Anakin's eyebrows shot up. He did not expect that. The old man was asking him a lot, another weight to shoulder. He wasn't sure he wanted this added load, but then again, it wasn't about what he wanted. The Father extended his hand to seal their deal, and Anakin hesitated a moment before clasping the man's offered palm. An understanding passed between them as they held each other's arms. A promise between two men with shattered hearts that would not be broken. An oath between two beings out of mortal comprehension that would be seen to its end. A form of certainty Anakin had long forgotten ever existed and was glad to rediscover. 

When they came back to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, they were both absorbed by their kata. The Father and Anakin stood aside, watching. Anakin felt pride surge within him as Ahsoka's footwork suffered no mistake. She was precise and graceful. Obi-Wan and she were in perfect synchronization, a mirror of each other. Eyes closed, they went through the motions like a dance. When they were done, they finally noticed their audience.

“Mind your shoulders,” Anakin said to Ahsoka with a stern voice “Stiffness will not do you any good.”

Ahsoka swallowed and looked down, not expecting a rebuttal. Their bond flared alive with her frustration at not reaching her master's standards, and Anakin remembered how, while under the influence of the Son, she'd accused him of always criticizing her and never believing in her, so he added:

“But that footwork was impeccable. You have done well.”

Her head snapped back up, and a mixture of surprise and delight flashed in her eyes. It made him question himself. Had he really been a good master to her? Obi-Wan was quite shy when it came to compliments, if memory served well, and praises from him were sparse, so he'd always told himself he wouldn't reproduce that model with Ahsoka. But her reaction proved otherwise. 

Obi-Wan must have felt him spiraling toward another pit of self-loathing, for he offered:

“Care to join us? The Son doesn't seem particularly eager to show up, so it can't hurt. If you feel up to it.”

“True enough. I haven't practiced my kata in...ages, actually. But I am slightly short on lightsabers.”

Ahsoka then held her main lightsaber to him with a rueful smile:

“I can give you my shoto if you prefer.”

Anakin considered the offered saber and knew it wouldn't be easy. He took it anyway and came to stand beside her. When he ignited the lightsaber, its green halo was too bright for his eyes, no longer accustomed to vivid colors, and he quickly turned away to protect them. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan watched him with questioning expressions. He just forced himself to look at the blade. The color was so strange and so foreign in his hands that he half expected it to turn red any second. But reaching out, he could hear the kyber crystal sing peacefully. It was calming, like an old forgotten lullaby from childhood rediscovered as an adult. And the color of the blade was the same as Luke's. Through the soft hum of the plasma, he could almost hear his son's voice, and peace came more easily. Feeling more centered, he nodded to his companions and took the opening stance. They followed suit, and the three of them started the kata in unison.

Anakin was instantly bewildered by his own body. Moving was just so easy! One never appreciates enough the simple wonder of being able to lift their arms above their head. He could make full circles now, his shoulder turning without his armor blocking the motion. The weight of the damned thing was gone too. Free of its constraints and three mechanical prosthetics, all his joints now moved and bent and turned fluidly. But all of this came at a cost, and it took him only three movements to fall behind in the kata's rhythm. No longer used to this freedom and feeling too light, Anakin had a problem properly controlling his limbs. His muscle memory was stuck between two timelines, and if the motions came naturally, the shadow of Vader's constitution loomed. His endurance seemed affected too, as he quickly became short-breathed, his lungs trying instinctively to fall back into the artificial rhythm his respirator imposed on him. All in all, the kata turned clumsy and hard, making Anaking feel like a youngling. Even if part of him knew it should have been expected, it didn't stop his anger from rising before this poor performance, put to shame by a Padawan. His frustration was doubled by the knowledge that he could do way better and thought bitterly that he was a very poor excuse for a Jedi and former Sith. Pathetic... 

The kata over, he was breathing heavily, phantom pain of limbs that were still there, burning in his muscles. His head was all wobbly, as if his body could no longer deal with the normal amount of oxygen pumped into his blood. Knowing he would have to relearn all of his basic training so he could relearn to live with his own body was so frustrating. A waste of time he could do without...

He made a move to give Ahsoka her saber back, but she closed his hand back around it:

“You will need it against the Son.”

“I would rather not, actually.”

“Master, I know things aren't...easy for you right now. But you need something to defend yourself with. We don't know what the Son is going to try, you can't stay unarmed.”

Anakin was tempted to say that, with the Force, he was never unarmed. But his control over the Force wasn't at its best right now either. He couldn't risk another backlash like the one he had just before while confronting an enemy as powerful as the Son. But...

“If I hold a lightsaber, I will use it. By sheer habit. I am going to fall back into old patterns that I would rather avoid being tempted by.”

He pushed the lightsaber back into Ahsoka's hand, and she reluctantly took it, still not convinced that leaving Anakin weaponless was the brightest idea.

“Anakin...”

Obi-Wan's voice was low and tentative. He had caught on to Anakin's mixed feelings towards him by now, and was trying his best to walk a thin line he couldn't even see, that much was obvious. But Anakin recognized the tone of voice his old master used when he tried to have Anakin open up.

“Will you tell us? About what you saw? About...what happened to you ?”

Yes, sure. You betrayed me, left me alone, turned my wife against me, left me to die because you didn't have the gut to finish me off, leaving me to live the shadow of a life made of nothing but physical and psychological pain, while you stole my children away to feed them lies and have them work on my downfall. That was what Anakin wanted to say. Because the pain was still all too vivid in his mind and muscles. But he held it back because part of him knew it wasn't what happened. Not really. Obi-Wan had hurt him in many ways, but Anakin wasn't innocent either. He needed to sort things out concerning their relationship. And the first thing he knew was that maybe, the reason he'd hated Obi-Wan with such intensity was because he'd never stopped loving him. Like Obi-Wan had...He had been there, on the other side, pulling him to the Netherworld. Gently. Almost tenderly. And Anakin had felt his old master's forgiveness, his affection. Neither he nor Yoda had to help him reach the other side. But they both did. 

Anakin sighted. Like all the rest he had to deal with, talking about this was still too soon.

“No.”

Obi-Wan's eyebrows drew into a line, and Anakin knew exactly what he was thinking. It had always been strange how they could understand each other so well without words but yet completely misunderstand each other at a core level. Communication had never been their strong point. 

“Anakin, all we want...”

“Is to help and understand,” Anakin cut, “I know. But I'm not ready.”

As he spoke, Anakin looked up. The stars were slowly disappearing with the rising morning light. Dawn was coming quietly, without anyone noticing, like the most natural thing in the world. Yet, Anakin couldn't turn his eyes from it. From dark blue, the sky was turning a paler shade, with stripes of pink and orange to contrast. The sparse clouds reflected the colors in a patchwork of pastels. He had forgotten the colors. Such a small and simple thing, yet oh so significant. The Dark Side had truly and utterly blinded him. And now, free from Its clutches and of those reddish lenses, Anakin could finally see the world around him in all its simple splendor. And it was beautiful and made his heart a bit lighter.

He finally turned back to Obi-Wan and said:

“I will tell you. Later. First, I need to know who Anakin is now and how to be him. And I will have a clearer picture of what I can do about it according to how I deal with the Son.”

His eyes fell back on the Father, who was approaching, clearly telling them their time was up. 

“Won't you explain that to us too ?” Obi-Wan inquired.

“I already told you what I wanted to do.”

“And he has my support,” the Father interjected. “You and the apprentice can stay ready for back-up, but the task of ending my Son's madness rests on the Chosen One and me.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but Anakin held out a hand in a way that left no room for interpretation, so he kept quiet. The Father looked into Anakin's eyes, searching for certitude:

“So, you know what you have to do.”

“How quaint !”

The fifth voice drew their attention and, as one, they turned their head toward the sky. The Son's black silhouette contrasted sharply against the soft blue of the early morning. He was descending fast and landed gracefully in the courtyard right beside them.

“My own personal send-off.”

Anakin didn't miss the calculating look the Son shot him. He also saw immediately his lightsaber hanging at the being's belt, on the opposite side of an ancient blade.

“I ask you one last time,” the Father begged. “Do not leave, my son.”

A condescending smile curled the Son's lips as he replied:

“You have no power to keep me, old man.”

“But I do,” Anakin interjected.

The Son's gaze flew to him instantly, all smiles forgotten. 

“And you know that. That's why you wanted me either on your side or incapacitated.”

The Son straightened up, towering over Anakin in an attempt to intimidate him. But Anakin didn't move at all. People quiver before him, not the other way around.

“And you made a mistake by drawing me to your lair.”

“Oh, but did I ?”

The laughter that escaped his lips was most unpleasing, far too similar to Sidious and this time Anakin felt his hair stand up in the nape of his neck.

“You may have seen far more than I anticipated, but the result is the same. You are unbalanced. I can feel it inside you. The doubt! The fear! The hatred! Toward your Emperor and yourself! You may refuse to join me, as I've hoped, but you have been crushed by your own mistakes and are in no shape to hold back anyone right now.”

He wasn't entirely wrong here, and that irked Anakin more than he wanted to. But he also knew what the Son was trying to do, and he was now better equipped to resist that kind of tactic than he was before. And he had made his choice. He had returned to the light for Luke, and he would stay in it for everyone else. He had to cling to that, to that choice, to the light, and the memory of Luke. No matter how seductively the Dark Side might whisper in his ear, he had to fight it back. 

Another laugh escaped the Son as he guessed Anakin's train of thought.

“Please, don't strain yourself too hard. We both know how it's going to end. You failed before, and you will fail again. You are not strong enough, and it's in your nature. You belong in the dark.”

“That is not true,” Anakin bit back, part of him already relenting.

“Oh, but it is! No matter how many times history is started over, you will fall! And this time, your precious son won't be here to save you !”

As Ahsoka gasped behind him, a powerful flare of anger rose within him, and he felt the Force react instantly, waiting but for his word to lash out against the Son. But the mention of Luke grounded him again. His soft smile danced before Anakin's eyes, and his resolve stood stronger. Do it for him, he told himself. Do it for her , this unknown daughter you never got to meet but who deserved better than what she certainly got. So he locked his eyes with the Son's.

“I'm a slow learner. But I learn. You, on the other hand...”

The Son all but growled as he raised a hand. Anakin felt the Force curled around the dark being, and it showed him his intent. Calling on the Force as well, Anakin prepared himself for the strike. The push the Son sent in their direction would have been devastating if Anakin had not been ready. Faster than any of his companions, Anakin countered the attack with a powerful push of his own. While all those behind him stood unaffected by what happened, the Son had to take a few steps back to keep his balance under the raw power of Anakin's assault. He was now looking at Anakin with a mix of anger and wariness. 

For his part, Anakin felt lighter as he saw how easily the Force had come to him, how easily he had directed it. How he hadn't felt a single touch of darkness in what he'd call forth. His confidence rose a notch. He also remembered how he had been able to tame both the Son and the Daughter before, so long ago. How his instinct and the Force had mixed to the point he couldn't tell one from the other, and how it had felt like. Not like he was imposing his will or bending the Force to shape the world around him as a Sith does, but more as if the Force had allowed him to do it. In that moment, he had felt part of the Force as much as it was part of him. He had dismissed it at the time, not willing to dwell on what it meant, but now, he guessed he'd have to rely on that. And for that, he'd have to surrender himself to the Force first. And surrender was a concept he loathed as much as he loathed himself.

“What you will do will destroy all that is good. I beg you, restrain yourself and stay,” the Father begged his son again.

And as he said so, Anakin felt it was meant as much for the Son as for himself. This was another test he needed to pass if he wanted to change the future and himself. He had never been able to let go, and that was a lesson he would now need to drill into his skull and his very soul. And that included surrendering himself to the Force. Trust it to guide him and not betray him. He could almost hear Qui-Gon again: “ Trust in the Force, and it will never lead you astray .”

“I cannot. This planet is not my destiny !”

“Then so be it. I love you, my son.”

“Do you ?”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka ignited their lightsabers the second they felt the Son call to the Force again. Anakin just closed his eyes. The Force was there, lingering in waves just outside his shields. He lowered them just enough to let the Force embrace him gently. Once more, he felt the warmth that spoke of home, and it felt good. It felt safe. He'd done it a thousand times until Palpatine twisted it and convinced him it was wrong. But it felt much better than anything the Dark had always given him. 

Trust me , it whispered with a voice that sounded like his mother's.

He let his shields drop entirely, and the Force engulfed him. Yet it didn't feel like drowning. On the contrary, he felt more alive and more aware of the world around him. And as he opened his eyes, he saw the carvings all lit up again. Extending his hand, Anakin let the Force guide him.

The Son hiccuped in surprise as the will of the Force fell upon him. His anger burned bright as a beacon, and he raged against the power that was holding him back.

“Now be a good boy, and listen to your father !” Anakin said coldly.

“No! I will not be held back! I'm tired of him denying me my true potential! I will be free !”

Anakin could feel the pressure on his mind as the Son fought back his grasp with everything he had. But Anakin could also feel the gentle tap of the Force and pushed further, bringing the Son to his knees. His yell of frustration echoed in the courtyard. 

“Free? Do you truly think the Dark Side will free you? Through victory, my chains are broken, the Force shall free me ?”

“Yes! You should know better than anyone !”

At that, Anakin took a long look at the Son, prostrated before him, fighting him with every fiber of his being, filled with rage and hatred. And fear. And loneliness. And despair. The furnace of his heart reflected itself in Anakin's, and for the briefest second, he thought he saw Vader's black suit kneeling before him instead of the Son. The Force sang, and Anakin released his grip on the Son, letting his hand fall by his side. The Son breathed as if he had finally come back from underwater.

“The Dark Side doesn't break any chains, it only crafts new ones,” Anakin said sadly. “Different ones. You only see them when it's too late.”

“You're wrong !” the Son spat.

“And you are blinded by the power.”

The Son snarled and rushed toward him. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka raised their blades in concert, but Anakin just allowed the Force to use him as a conduit once again. The Son was pushed back as he reached for Anakin and was sent skidding on the floor for a few meters. 

“Just clarify something for me, would you?” Anakin said with the tone he used with officers who thought themselves smart but only kriffed up in the end. “If you got out of here and found yourself in the middle of the Clone Wars, how would you end it? How would you destroy the Emperor ?”

The Son stood up and dusted his clothes while giving Anakin an appreciative look.

“Going for ideas? Guess you should. It would be tremendous work without my help.”

“I'm well aware. But you are avoiding the question.”

“I would crush him! His power is nothing compared to mine! And he would never expect me. As for your Clone Wars, destroying both armies would be a good start.”

At those words, Anakin felt his bonds with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka flare alive with a sharp protectiveness toward the clones. 

“Then the corrupted governments would follow. Burn everything down is the safest way to build anew and pure, on purged foundations.”

“Sometimes, what is built from burned corpses is anything but pure.” 

He was the perfect example of it himself.

“So you would destroy everything in your path to impose your ways on the galaxy. What about those you resent you for it? Those who lost everything to your purge? Those who would fight you ?”

“They would be destroyed as well, of course. Peace and order cannot allow agitators.”

“And once you have destroyed everything and there is nothing left of the galaxy? Once you are sitting on the throne of a dead universe? What then ?”

“Then, there would be peace,” the Son said triumphantly. 

Anakin could hold back a stern rictus.

“You are no different from Sidious !”

“I am nothing like this poor mortal being driven only by ambition! I only seek to bring peace to a galaxy lost to madness.”

“So every Sith tells themselves. It's the overbearing of the Dark Side that drove the galaxy to its current situation. Yet you want to tip the balance even more.”

“It will be worth it.”

“Will it? Will it be worth your sister's life ?”

That cut deep, and a heavy silence fell upon the courtyard. 

“That was an accident,” the Son said slowly, “She shouldn't have interfered...I didn't intend to...”

“But you did. She was the person you loved the most. The one you couldn't live without. And she died by your hand. Ironic, isn't it...”

He battled hard against the memory of Padmé holding her throat as she gasped for air.

“Shut up !” the Son yelled.

“She's dead because of you.”

“It's her fault. She should have joined me !”

“But it was not in her nature, so you destroyed her.”

“Once I have enough power...”

“Ah, yes, the power. Always the power. It feels good, doesn't it? Intoxicating. Like nothing can stand against you, hold you back, or hurt you. Like the whole universe is in your hands for you to mold it. But it's never for free. You always have to pay for it. Tell me, is the power you wield now worth your sister's life, or not !”

Anakin couldn't stop. He and the Son were the same. And winding him up was much more satisfying than banging his own head against the wall. He had to make the Son understand ! He had to. Because if the Son could turn back, then it meant Anakin's turn wasn't just some random luck...Please understand...

“To leave this place, you will have to kill your father. Will it all be worth his life as well ?”

The Son snorted darkly:

“He's the one keeping me here! He's the one holding me back. Always patronizing, always so sure of being right. Always so afraid of my power being greater than his !”

It's all Obi-Wan's fault! He's holding me back!

“He turned my sister against me, and she would rather die for him than live for me !”

You turned her against me! You won't take her from me!

“You're my son !” the Father cried out. “I only want what is best for you, because I love you.”

You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.

“You want me in a cage! I hate you! I hate you and I want you dead !”

The red blade came in a wild blow and struck the old men down. His worn-out cloak fell to the ground, empty. The Jedi's body had disappeared at the same time as his presence in the Force. As he searched the cloth with the tip of his boot, the world muffled around him. A great void had appeared inside him, growing slowly but unstoppable, where the hatred he had for that man had stood. Now it was as empty as the cloak on the ground. The last tether of his heart was cut, and it was nothing like freeing. It was heavy and suffocating. It was like an open space: cold, dark, and devoid of life. It was lonely. So so lonely. His soul was screaming, raging. He'd fervently wanted the man dead for so long, and now he desperately wanted him back. It was agony. And there was nothing to do about it.

A hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades brought Anakin back from the pit of his memories. Obi-Wan stood just behind him. The world around them seemed to have stopped, the only things still moving were their eyes, locking into each other, Anakin looking for solid ground to stand on, and Obi-Wan all too happy to provide it. And Anakin's heart sighed with relief and sadness equally. When did it start to fall to pieces?

A gentle push from Obi-Wan returned Anakin to the world. He sent a simple thought through their bond. Trust me .

“You want him gone forever ?” Anakin asked the Son.“So you won't mind if I just...”

Quicker than lightning, Anakin held both his hands and with one, lifted the Father from the ground while choking him with the Force, and with the other, called the Son's blade. Once the hilt reached his palm, he turned swiftly to strike the old being. When the Son realized what he was doing, his eyes widened, and terror crept quickly onto his face. Ahsoka's shocked yell echoed in the courtyard, and, despite Anakin's previous reassurance, Obi-Wan's end of the bond flooded with dread. Before any of them could do anything to stop him, Anakin had aligned the blade perfectly with the Father's heart, and the blade was inches from his chest. 

“Master !”

“Anakin, don't !”

“NO !”

The blade pierced the flesh with ease, and there was the sound of a choked gasp. The Father lay on the floor where he'd been pushed with horror in his eyes, and Anakin took a step back to withdraw the blade from the Son's chest. Blood flowed instantly, and the Son fell on his knees once again, his hand pressed on his wound. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were now standing at Anakin's sides, having a hard time believing their eyes or understanding the scene before them.

“My son !” the Father cried. 

He stood and rushed to his son's side. The Son's gaze was unfocused and confused as he looked up toward Anakin.

“What...what is that ?”

“That is selfless love,” Anakin said calmly. “Something even the dark can't snuff out.”

“But I...”

“Just love your father more than you hate him. Love is stronger than hate. That is what breaks our chains. Your sister knew it, and so did my son. We both needed to be reminded of that.”

Anakin let the blade fall to the ground with a soft thud. 

“Father...” the Son whispered.

“I am here,” the older being said as he brought his child close to him and embraced him lovingly. “I always knew there was good in you.”

“But I...killed her,” the Son said with a weakening voice, “I didn't want to kill her.”

A slow stream of tears started to run down the Father's cheeks, making their way to his son's head, the last offering of a parent to a child who finally understood their importance.

“And now, you can be with her again. As it should be. Can you feel her calling ?”

“Yes...yes, she's calling.”

The Son's eyes were glassy as he spoke, his final word leaving him like a soft prayer in the wind:

“And...we'll be free. Together. Toge...”

His hand fell to the floor as if in slow motion, and his body started to fade. Soon, the Father was holding on to empty clothes as the sun finally made it above the courtyard wall. An ethereal atmosphere of peace and sadness lingered, and Anakin knelt and rested a hand on the Father's shoulder. Their eyes found each other, and the old being's gaze was filled with sorrow and thanks, grateful for a thing that broke his heart but needed to be done. 

“Are you...will you be okay ?” Ahsoka asked the Father, her voice full of compassion.

The Father kept silent for a moment, his eyes still locked onto Anakin's. Then he carefully put the empty clothes of his dead son on the ground and stood.

“I will have to be. My children are gone, and now, only I remain.”

“I'm sorry,” Obi-Wan said equally empathically. “What will you do now ?”

The Father's gaze turned back to Anakin as he said:

“I have one last task to fulfill. But you,” he added to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, “ you need to leave now. Your war awaits, and I have kept you here already long enough. I can only hope that you have learned lessons that will be useful in the coming times.”

“I just...feel so bad for you,” Ahsoka said. “We came here and destroyed all that was your life. We can't just leave as if nothing happened.”

“I was the one who brought you here,” the Father replied. “Therefore, all that transpired was my fault and my responsibility alone. You only did what you had to. But I am glad that it was the three of you.”

“You could come with us,” Obi-Wan offered. “The Jedi could use your knowledge.”

“I cannot go with you. I am tied to this place. And as I said, there remains one last task for me.”

He then motioned for them to follow him toward their shuttle. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan said.

He knelt beside the Son's remains, and when he stood up, he was holding Anakin's lightsaber. 

“We can't leave without that, can't we ?” he added with a small smile.

Anakin hesitated. His old lightsaber was a few inches away from him, calling out to him, its kyber crystal singing softly to his ears. Yet he couldn't bring himself to take it. It was the lightsaber he used to kill the Jedi, to kill the younglings, the one Luke inherited, the one he was still holding when Anakin cut his hand off on Bespin. Or it would be...

As if it weren't his, his right hand closed around it, holding it in front of him.

“No, we can't,” he whispered.

Doubt crept over Obi-Wan's face.

“Unless you...”

“Take the shuttle.” Anakin cut him off. “The Resilient is waiting nearby, Rex will take you back to Coruscant.”

“What do you mean ?” asked Ahsoka, suddenly a little panicked.

Anakin stayed quiet, waiting for the answer to dawn on her. As it did, an incredulous look gleamed in her eyes.

“You are not coming,” Obi-Wan said, his voice unsteady.

“No, I am not. I'm staying here. I am the Father’s last task.”

“But...but what about the war !” Ahoska blurted out. “Our troops! The Jedi! You can't abandon them! You are one of our best generals. We lost too many Jedi already. The Republic needs you !”

She bit her lip, her face torn with anguish:

“I need you...” she added with a broken voice.

Anakin felt like their bond was a crushing waterfall under which he stood, pouring on him all her disbelief, her fear, and worst of all, her feeling of being abandoned, that she didn't matter to him. After all, he'd never wanted her in the first place, and now he was leaving her without a second thought...

“Ahsoka is right, ” Obi-Wan said. “You can't turn your back on the Republic like that.”

“I can't go back. I just... can't.”

Obi-Wan studied him, and Anakin knew that, at this moment, his old master didn't need the Force to understand what Anakin was thinking. He knew him too well, and he had heard enough in the past hours.

“You saw yourself fall, didn't you ?” Obi-Wan finally asked.

Ahsoka bit her lips again. She was clever too, and had heard just as much as Obi-Wan. Anakin couldn't find the strength to hold their gaze, so he looked to the ground and breathed heavily. 

“What happened ?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding exhausted. 

As Anakin remained silent again, Obi-Wan insisted:

“Anakin, we need to know.”

“I...I can't...not now...”

“Master...”

Ahsoka's voice was begging, and he shut his eyes hard, took a deep breath, and said:

“I fell. The Sith won. It was a nightmare of my own making. But then...”

“Your son saved you and brought you back to the Light?” Obi-Wan completed.

Anakin nodded.

“Luke ?” Ahsoka asked.

Clever, clever girl! Anakin smiled tenderly again. 

“This emperor you and the Son talked about...is this Darth Sidious ?” Obi-Wan, always so insightful.

“Yes,” Anakin replied darkly.

“Who is he ?” Obi-Wan pressed. “We knew already that we had to find him, but now it's obvious he must be stopped. Please tell us what you know.”

“No.”

Obi-Wan looked at him as if he'd slapped him with his mechanical arm. The utter disbelief painted onto his face made it clear he couldn't even consider that Anakin had just blatantly said this simple word right now.

“Do you realize that by withholding such information...”

“You are not ready to know.” Anakin cut, as this simple truth dawned on him as he said it. He wasn't ready to go back into the world, and if he revealed Sidious' identity to Obi-Wan now, he would report it back to the Jedi Council, and catastrophe would ensue. They were unaware of Sidious's plans, they would take fast action without that precious knowledge and would lose all over again even quicker.

“You miss too many pieces of the puzzle.”

“Pieces you could give us!” Obi-Wan argued.

“I won't be here to manage the damage control! Foolish actions are not a weakness we cannot indulge in any further. Be it to your liking or not, you need me to be here to oversee things as they evolve, and that is something I cannot do now. I have been Vader as long as I have been Anakin. I need to learn how to be...myself. And that will take a great deal of time. I cannot go out and face what I have done in the state I am in. For you, it is just a recounting of a vision. For me, it is two decades of my life that happened not a day ago. The Force and Luke gave me a second chance, I can't blow it away by being careless.”

“But you're staying here, so how can we...” Obi-Wan started more vehemently.

“The Chosen One and I came to an arrangement,” the Father intervened. “One that I think you will agree to.”

Obi-Wan reluctantly silenced his response and listened.

“I won't be gone forever. The time here flows differently. When you return on the Resilient, only seconds would have passed between the moment we arrived here. So, I will use that. When a year has passed in the galaxy, I will come back. It will be years here, and with any luck, I will be...functional again.”

“And what are we supposed to tell the Council and the Senate as one of our most valued generals goes missing ?” Obi-Wan remarked.

“To the Council? Everything. They need to know that I come from a terrible future and that I'm working to change it. To the Senate and the GAR? I don't know, but you must keep it as quiet as possible. Let no one, and I mean it, no one , in the Senate, know what I am truly doing. Just spin something convincing, you are good at it.”

He stopped, and a pang of regret gripped his heart.

“Just, please apologize to the men. To the 501 st I mean.”

“Whatever story we give, they will understand,” Ahsoka assured him. 

Anakin had a soft smile at the thought. The 501 st were good men with good hearts. He wondered if Ahsoka would still be allowed to lead them. 

“As for you Ahsoka...”

He turned to Obi-Wan, his eyes hard and uncompromising:

“You will take care of her while I am away. Right ?”

“Of course I will, Anakin. She's my grandpadawan, and I won't treat her any differently.”

“Good. Just don't...”

Don't be like you were with me, he wanted to say. But Obi-Wan had not been the sole and only root of the problems in their relationship, right? And Ahsoka wasn't him...

“Don't underestimate her,” he finally said.

Obi-Wan nodded, understanding that there was a lot to unpack between them, but that would have to wait a year. 

Anakin turned and took Ahsoka's hands in his own, which surprised her, and she looked up to him.

“I remember what you said. When you were under the Son's influence. That I never believed in you, never trusted you.”

“Master, I didn't mean...”

“Part of you felt so,” he cut off. “The Dark Side twist, it doesn't create. And I want you to know, it couldn't be further from the truth. When I took you as my padawan, you were young, brash, and reckless. And you now are a young woman I would trust my life with. You are strong, kind, and clever, and I am lucky to be there to see you grow every day into a better person and a better Jedi than I ever was. You are the only thing I did right within the Jedi Order, and I couldn't be prouder of you.”

Ahsoka was speechless. He felt her surprise and the overwhelming emotions she tried to contain at his words. He took her head between his hands and kissed her brow tenderly, right beside her padawan's braid.

She quickly raised her hand to her eyes to dry the tears that started falling.

“I will be back in one year. I'm sorry to leave you the hard work of covering for me. But I'm coming back. And things will be different !”

He let her go and gently pushed her toward Obi-Wan:

“You should go now.”

His old master looked at him for a long moment. Something seemed to give in inside him as his shoulder dropped, but his voice was steady as he said:

“One year. We see each other in a year.”

Anakin walked with them to the shuttle in silence, Ahsoka holding herself to give her courage. But just before the gangplank, Obi-Wan turned to Anakin one last time:

“What do we tell Padmé ?”

Anakin's breath caught in his throat. What to tell her? What could he possibly say that could express all the hurt, all the pain, all the love, all the regrets? He stood there, agonizing, while Obi-Wan and Ahsoka waited, knowingly.

“I will tell her everything myself,” he finally said. “In the meantime, just say...what you think you have to.”

They both nodded and walked into the ship. The plank shut, and the engine fired. The Father came to send beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder, as the shuttle rose in the sky. Anakin followed it until it disappeared.

Now, it was time to go to work.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan's consciousness came back to him slowly. He first became aware of the painfull angle his neck had fallen into. He straightened up and understood his mistake instantly, as a sharp flash of pain ran from the base of his skull to his mid-back. He groaned and brought a hand to his mistreated neck. Another groan to his left told him that Ahsoka was waking up too. Turning his head carefully in her direction, he saw that she had passed out on the ship's controls, which were coming back alive as well. Various beeps and lights started to blink as Ahsoka shook her head to clear her senses.

“Are you alright, young one ?” he asked her.

“Yeah. I think so. You ?”

“A little stiff, but I will survive.”

“What happened ? I remember a bright light as we left the atmosphere of the planet then...nothing.”

“Yes. Just like when we arrived.”

The empty static of their radio then stopped and captain Rex's voice flickered through:

“General...hear...you...there ? General...come in...”

Ahsoka hurried to readjust the transmission and the holo-image of the captain came alive on the shuttle's control.

“Commander ! We lost you for a minute !” the clone said with evident relief on his face.

“What ?” was all that Ahsoka managed to say.

“You disappeared from our scopes for a minute” Rex explained “What happened ?”

At this Obi-Wan and Ahsoka exchanged a look. They had no idea what to say.

“We will explain once we are aboard the Resilient.” Obi-Wan said diplomatically.

“Alright. Just one question: where is General Skywalker ?”

Because of course Rex would know that Anakin would sit on the pilot chair and nowhere else during a flight that needed actual piloting.

“As I said, captain, we will explain on the ship” Obi-Wan repeated darkly.

The blue figure of Rex looked at him incredulously, but the man was too much of a soldier to go against direct instructions from his superiors. So he just nodded and said:

“Alright. I'll inform admiral Yularen that you're arriving. He'll be expecting you for your report.”

The transmission ended and Obi-Wan couldn't help but mutter in his beard:

“Oh I'm sure he will.”

“Our report, hum. What will it say exactly ?” Ahsoka asked as she steered the shuttle to a course toward the flagship waiting for them hundreds of clicks ahead.

“I still have trouble making sense of all that happened myself. So finding a plausible story to tell that doesn't sound too crazy and leaves out what needs to be left out...I'm not sure. All I know is that I don't like the idea of blatantly lying to the army.”

“But Anakin said not to tell anyone outside the Council. I'm sure he has a good reason, and even if I don't like the idea of lying either, I really don't feel like it's a good idea to go against Anakin's recommandations.”

“Neither do I,” Obi-Wan replied while stroking his beard with his hand. “Something big is evidently going on. Massive even. More than we can possibly imagine. We have to play our cards carefully. Anakin is right: we won't get another chance.”

Ahsoka looked at him as if she wanted to say something but didn't dare to. Her gaze was hesitant but fixated on him, her fingers twitching. He arched an eyebrow in a benevolent expression, letting her know he was ready to answer when she was ready to ask.

“It's true, then.” she said in a murmur.

“What is, my dear ?”

“He is the Chosen One.”

Obi-Wan raised his other eyebrow, in surprise this time.

“You didn't believe it ?”

“Did you ?”

The question was so deep, on many levels so personal and stirred up so many emotions and memories that Obi-Wan never dared actually give an answer to it, even though it had been in the back of his mind ever since he had promised Qui-Gon he would train Anakin. But Ahsoka clearly needed reassurance in this moment. She had been through a lot in a couple of days and she needed certainty, an unmovable cornerstone to lean on right now to get her footing back and face the road ahead of her with a clear mind.

“My master always was certain of it, until his last breath. And I cannot deny that, after witnessing so many of Anakin's exploits and extraordinary abilities, I sometimes wondered about it. I guess a big part of me believes it, yes. But another part just doesn't want to acknowledge that if there is a Chosen One here and now, it's because the Force is so out of balance that it needed to create him.”

“Why was Master Jinn so convinced about it ?”

“He felt Anakin's strong connexion with the Force straight away. When we performed an analysis for the midi-chlorian count in his blood, we couldn't believe the result we were given.”

Ahsoka's intrest seemed to pique as her eyes glimmered in the faint light.

“How much ?”

“Over 20,000. 27,700 exactly.”

Ahsoka's markings shot up and her mouth made a perfect “O”. Clearly, Anakin had never disclosed that fact with her.

“Anakin's mother, Shmi, also revealed to Qui-Gon that Anakin was born without a father, something she couldn't explain herself. At first I wondered if it wasn't just a lie she told to protect herself and her son from a more...distasteful truth.”

“Distasteful truth ?” Ahsoka repeated, too young and in many ways still too innocent to understand Obi-Wan's meaning.

“She was a slave, Ahsoka. And slaves are more than often treated poorly. Women most of all.”

The implication finaly made its way into Ahsoka mind, and she winced, both horrified at the fact that some women were in fact treated like object, and at the possibility that her beloved master could be the product of rape.

“But from what Qui-Gon and Anakin both told me, Shmi was not the lying kind. And there were many more believable lies she could have said if she wanted to hide Anakin's parentage. So the theory that Anakin was conceived by the midi-chlorians, by elimination, seems the truest one.”

“They seemed so sure.” Ahsoka whispered, more to herself than to Obi-Wan. “All three of them seemed so sure. It wasn't a possibility for them, just a fact. A truth.”

“Those beings are beyond everything we know or understand about the Force.” Obi-Wan agreed. “If they state that Anakin is the Chosen One, then believing them seems the wisest course of action.”

“Yeah. Especially after...”

She let her sentence trail off, but Obi-Wan didn't need more to understand her point. Anakin's journey through time had been earthshaking by its implication in the Force, but even before than, Obi-Wan had been rocked to his core as he'd watched the boy he'd trained and cared for bring to their knees the closest imbodiments of gods Obi-Wan ever heard of. It was a sight and a feeling that would never fade away, embedded into him forever. Just thinking back on it caused his skin to tickle.

He had been utterly powerless against the Daughter as she had taken him away, but Anakin only had to reach his hand toward her to tame her. The Force had sung in a symphony Obi-Wan never heard before, sun giving way to countless stars as Anakin let his power fill the world around him, the supernova that was his being extending almost to the point of explosion in a maelstrom of light. It felt like being in the heart of a teta-storm, heat burning the skin and radioactivity setting every nerve aflame but without the actual pain of being torn apart. It was the opposite. Never before had Obi-Wan felt so alive or the Force so strongly. Anakin had amplyfied every state of being, to the point where Obi-Wan could swear he'd felt the midi-chlorians in his blood shiver with excitement and anticipation. It was almost too much and Obi-Wan could do nothing but watch as Anakin stood in the middle of this Force frenzy, unaffected by it, seemingly unaware of it unfolding from him like fiery petals of a cosmic flower, mighty enough to put the birth of a star to shame.

Any doubts that Obi-Wan might still have held by that point had been turned to dust, blown into the void of space by the tempest of Anakin's will. And it filled him with both dread and sadness. Dread for the trials to come, and sadness for the boy who watched the stars wishing for nothing but freedom but crushed now by too many responsibilities.

Ahsoka's voice brought him back to the present as she said in a musing tone:

“When master Yoda told me I was to become Anakin's padawan I was terrified. I know the Council tries to keep his Chosen One status under the radar, but you know how the Temple is. It's a real windmill for gossip and rumors, so for as long as I can remember, I heard of it. And with the war going on, and everything he achieved in battle, it was hard not to believe it. And I thought “Why if I'm not good enough ?” and “What if I get him killed ?”, you know...All the other padawans look up to me as if I have some secret knowledge now, and as if, simply by being Anakin's padawan I'm above them...It's a lot of pressure...So I cannot imagine what it's like for him ! And he never talks about it.”

“He never liked talking about it. As far as he's concerned, the prophecy is nonsense, and he doesn't want anything to do with it. But now, he seems to have accepted that role. Whatever happened to him...”

There was a heavy, pregnant pause, and Ahsoka was the first to master the courage to ask:

“It can't be, right ? He couldn't have fall ! If he's the Chosen One, meant to bring balance, he can't fall to the Dark Side ! And Anakin's not like that ! He couldn't do that...”

“I wish I could wash your fears away, young one.” Obi-Wan replied grimly. “But we have to face the evidence. Anakin was unbalanced, he had trouble using the Force, he quoted the Sith code and seemed well-versed in the feelings and practices of the Dark Side...He confessed it, and the Father never denied it...”

Obi-Wan watched the Resilient grow larger by the viewport while trying desperately to set aside his affection for Anakin to spot the warning signs. For there had to be signs ! One didn't turn Sith out of nowhere. There must have been hints, preludes of change inside Anakin's heart...Things Obi-Wan would have glossed over or pushed under the rug as minor or streak of character. Things he would have willingly ignored because he loved Anakin too much...

With a heavy sight he pushed those thoughts away for the moment and, as the Resilient main hangar doors cracked open, he said:

“We came here to investigate a Jedi distress code. And that's what we did. We found out something, internal to the Order, but important to the war in the process. The lead was growing cold far too rapidly and we had to make a quick decision about it. If we wanted to have any chance to find out where this quest will lead and the necessary answers it would give, one of us had to follow it. You are still a padawan so it obviously couldn't be you, and I am a Council member vital to the war effort. Anakin was the only choice left. Plus, the trail lead straight to Hutt Space, and with his upbringing on Tatooine, Anakin is far more acquainted with the Hutts.”

Ahsoka frown, not entirely sold on the idea:

“It's very shaky, you know that ?”

“I know. But I'm afraid we won't be able to find better in the few minutes remaining.”

“Why can't we explain more ?” Ahsoka tested.

“Because we have suspicion of Separatist and Sith spies infiltrated in the GAR and the Senate. It's old news, nothing that will draw to much scepticism. Considering the sensitive nature of Anakin's new mission, we prefer to keep it under tight lips.”

“How did we disappear from the scopes for an instant and came back with more information than before ? And how Anakin left without a second shuttle ?”

And that was the trickiest part !

“Can't we say that it's part of the mission ? Prevents us from making more dubious excuses...”

“But that would be highly suspicious ! If the officers aboard the Resilient might be willing to let it slide, I'm not sure the Senate and the brass will do the same. Just...let me fill the blank as best as I can and back me up, if need be, alright ?”

They were inside the hangar now, and Ahsoka was landing their shuttle in the first empty docking bay.

“I'm afraid we're out of time, so we'll have to go with that for now.” she said. “Maybe once we've spoken to the Council, they'll find something credible.”

“That's all we can hope for.”

They both stood and walked to the rear of the ship. But before they lowered the gangplank, Obi-Wan rested a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder and asked kindly:

“How are you dealing with all this ? Are you all right ?”

She looked up to him and her gaze faltered for a second:

“I...don't know, Master. Everything is happening so fast...I just can't believe that Anakin won't be here for a year. He's only been my master for two years, but I cannot imagine my life without him in it anymore. He's always been at my side ever since I entered this war and I can't shake the feeling that I won't be able to fight without him guiding me. I believe in you, Master Kenobi, and I know you will take good care of me, but...”

“But I'm not Anakin, I understand. The bond between master and padawan is a powerful thing.”

“And I still can't believe that he would...I guess I will have to meditate a lot in the coming days.”

“We both will. And you are right. I will do my best to train you and protect you while you're in my care. I won't dishonor Anakin's teaching by giving him back a padawan who hasn't blossomed during his absence.”

That earned him a small smile, mirthful to say the least:

“You do realise that, if you truly want to honor Anakin's teaching you'll have to go out of your way to do things like flying, or jump off a cliff to land in the middle of a battle, or be reckless...”

Obi-Wan laughed good-heartedly while pushing the button to lower the ramp:

“Well I will honor Anakin's teaching and adapt them to my own methods”

“Wasn't it you who jumped through a window, three clicks above street level to catch a droid the size of my head ?” Ahsoka asked playfully.

Obi-Wan's cheeks visibly reddened at her statement:

“Where did you hear that ?! Anakin's always such...”

“Actually, Senator Amidala told me that one !”

“Force have mercy...”

The ramp stilled and they walked down into the hangar, to be greeted by Admiral Yularen, Captain Rex, Commander Cody and Arc-Troopers Fives and Echo. They all look relieved to see them, but Anakin's absence hung above them all like a lead weight, soon to be tackled down, if Admiral Yularen's expression was anything to go by.

“I suspect you have a lot to talk about, General Kenobi.” the Admiral started with a doubting scowl.

“I'm afraid you won't appreciated my answer much, Admiral.”

“Meaning ?”

“I can't tell you much. I'm afraid we've entered deep classified territory.”

The admiral's face went from questioning to outright puzzled:

“And how, in all heaven's name, did we go from a simple investigating mission to black op operation ? Are the Jedi even allowed to run such an operation ?”

“You know well that we are. A good part of the Jedi work before the war consisted of secret operation and infiltration.”

Obi-Wan knew full well that Yularen was no stranger to the way Jedi often dismantled slaver's operations from the inside, had operatives in long term infiltration mission in criminal organisations to provide information to the Republic, so on and so forth. So he wasn't going to back down just like that.

“I'm afraid I'll have to insist on a more tangible explanation than “It's top-secret” for the sudden disppearance of one of the most succesful generals of the whole Grand Army of the Republic ! So I ask again, General Kenobi: where is General Skywalker ? When will he be back ?”

Obi-Wan let his gaze shift to the faces of the clones, all closed in a professional fashion, but their feelings in the Force told a different story. They were anxious, uncertain, concerned...Widening his vision, Obi-Wan saw that all the troopers close to them were paying close attention to what was being said. The air was charged with tension, and even if he didn't sense any aggression or anger within the admiral, Obi-Wan guessed that it wouldn't take much to set the man on edge.

“It would be best if we could discuss this in a more...private setting.” Obi-Wan observed.

Yularen studied him for a moment, then nodded and led the way to the elevator. Rex and Cody followed them silently, but Rex's shoulders were tense. Ahsoka walked to him and rested a reassuring hand on the clone's forearm, smiling at him in a way she wanted comforting. All it gained her was a raised eyebrow, and he heard the man ask:

“You okay, kiddo ?”

“Let me answer you in a few hours,” she murmured back.

The elevator ride was silent, so was their way to the command center. When the door slid open, Yularen ordered everyone, clone and officers, to clear the room. When he turned to repeat his order to Fives and Echo, Ahsoka said,

“They should hear it too. They're part of the 501^st and will be affected by what happened, and what will happen.”

Yularen all but nodded, knowing better now than to question her judgement. When they were finally away from indiscreet hears, Obi-Wan explained:

“We followed the distress call to the coordinates. At first, all we were met by was empty space, but after careful examination we found an abandoned light freighter equipped with advanced cloaking device. It's where the signal emitted from. We swept the ship and came across information vital to the war effort. Unfortunately, the trail was growing cold and we had little time to decide what to do next...”

Obi-Wan continued his explanation as he presented them to Ahsoka. The more he went on, the surer he sounded. Within his mind, the Force pressed gently, as if giving its silent agreement, and Obi-Wan let it woven itself within his words, giving them weight. It was the lightest suggestion, but it looked like it was all that was needed to be convincing.

“You will, of course, give more detail to the Chancellor ?” Yularen asked, understanding now that he would not get more from them and accepting it.

“As I told you, we've long had suspicions of spies within the Chancellor circle.”

“You do realise that, if only the Jedi Council is made aware of the full situation, it won't go well with...”

“I know full well” Obi-Wan cut. “This is why we will take the matter to Senator Organa. He is the head of the Security Committee, and will share the information to those he deems worthy of trust.”

The admiral folded his arms and stoked his chin pensively. It was a hierarchical nightmare for him, but he knew to recognize defeat:

“This is highly irregular, you are aware of that, right ?”

“I am, and I apologize. But extraordinary situations require extraordinary measures.”

“You will have to contact the Senate and the Chancellor as soon as possible. Many things need to be taken care of.”

“If I may, sir.”

Rex's voice, low and regulated, filled the room. He was looking alternately at both men, as if trying to discern from which he'd get the best answer. Echo and Fives looked equally lost by his side.

“What about the men ? The 501^st ? What will become of us if General Skywalker is absent for an extended period of time ?”

“That is among the things that need to be decided. In all honesty, I would rather not have the organization and hierarchy of this division upset. It works too well as it is now. But General Skywalker is the main drive behind that efficiency. Without him, it will be hard to maintain our current working system. And an entire fleet cannot remain leaderless.”

“So we'll be put under another Jedi 's command ?” Fives asked.

“The 501^st and 212^th work together often enough for me to ask if I can take temporary lead.” Obi-Wan stated “Anakin shouldn't be away more than a year so...”

“That is not the problem, General,” Yularen cut with a displeased look. “You simply cannot fight two front at the same time, and the 501^st will be needed elsewhere than the 212^th.”

“We'll find something out.” Ahsoka told her men.

They didn't seem very confident and Obi-Wan couldn't blame them. The fate of their entire battalion was at stake, and they all knew that the 501^st reputation would make it hard for new leadership. Anakin's way of doing things was unconventional to say the least, and Obi-Wan knew that his men wouldn't be fit under any command. Many would find them too independent, too creative, less inclined to follow orders without a word...

“This whole situation is a mess, if you forgive me the expression !” Yularen declared. “If you allow me, General Kenobi, while you are with the Council, I will inform the command of the GAR and the Senate of it. That way, you will be able to report as soon as you are over with your fellow Jedi.”

“I appreciate, Admiral.”

The admiral made an noncommittal noise and waved him off, walking toward the door. But before he reached it, he turned back toward Obi-Wan, his expression much more pained and concerned that it had been so far:

“I must admit, this whole thing is very much not like General Skywalker. Not at all, no...”

He left and Commander Cody took his cue. He nodded to Obi-Wan and left as well. The three men of the 501^th lingered, looking at each other with pointed looks, needing no words to communicate how screwed up they felt in this matter. Ahsoka, who knew them so well, understood and turned to Obi-Wan. Her question hung in the Force, and Obi-Wan didn't know how to answer it. Anakin had been adamant about keeping the Senate and GAR in the dark, but it felt wrong to hide things to his most trusted troopers. Not to call them his friends ! He searched within the Force for guidance but it remained silent. Obi-Wan would have to trust his better judgement on this.

“I know you are worried for what comes next, but I'll try my best to keep things...as normal as I can.” he promised them.

“Not to sound whiny, General, but I don't have a lot of hope in this,” Fives confessed.

Rex was frowning at the holo-table, as if the instrument had insulted him personally, which Ahsoka noticed.

“It wasn't an easy decision for Anakin,” she told the clones. “Don't think he abandoned you, you know he'd never do that ! But this...he had to do this. More than you can know.”

Rex visibly relaxed and the men exchanged looks before saluting and leaving the room. Without needing to be told, Ahsoka went to the door and sealed it behind her men. Ahsoka then went to the security consol and deactivated all cameras. Even if they knew no one would come to disturb them, the simple fact that the conversation to come wasn't happening in the Council's chamber was unnerving enough. Once she was satisfied with the level of privacy they were now allowed, she nodded to Obi-Wan, who gathered his resolve, then push the comm button.

Master Yoda's image appeared soon, a benevolent smile on his wrinkled face.

“Master Kenobi. Good to hear from you, it is. But soon. Not very long ago left Coruscant, did you. Results in your investigation, already you came across ?”

“We did, Master.”

His face was solemn and somber, which alarmed the old master. He rested both his hands to rest on the top of his gimer stick as all pleasantness faded away from his expression. He now looked troubled, an expression that was slowly becoming his everyday face. Obi-Wan feared that before the war's end, Yoda would no longer be able to wear another expression. The conflict was taking a heavy toll on every Jedi, but Master Yoda, as the Grand Master of the Order, had to bear most of the load. He hated having to make it even heavier.

“I request an emergency meeting of the Council. Now. No matter what the other masters are doing. This matter takes priority.”

Yoda remained stoic, but his gaze wandered to Ahsoka, who stood silently not far from Obi-Wan with a downcast expression. His eyes searched the room and, upon finding no traces of the usual third member of their trio, mumble a low sound.

“Stand by. Call them immediately, I will. Not long this should take.”

It didn't take long indeed as, less than ten minutes later, the holo-table came alive with the image of the masters. Some were sitting on their chairs in the Council chamber, others were in clearly more exotic places. But they were all here, and listening carefully.

“Everything please tell us, Obi-Wan.”

And so Obi-Wan did. He related all that happened to them, with occasional addition from Ahsoka, from the moment they jumped out of hyperspace to his decision to chase after Anakin who went to confront the Son. Then, his voice wavered and he had to pause. The Council members, who had not interrupted them once, grew visibly more worried at that. Obi-Wan leaned on the table for a moment, and Ahsoka's hand came to rest near his. They exchanged a look, Obi-Wan rallied and carried on.

From that moment onward, Obi-Wan felt in the Force the deep unease growing inside his fellow councillors. He tried to describe as best as he could how Anakin had felt so profoundly different, how he'd seemed a stranger to himself, and how neither the Son nor the Father had denied the possibility of time-travel. He stressed how Anakin had been shaken to the core by what happened to him and what he had seen, but not once did he speak about Anakin's fall or his son. Ahsoka had of course noticed and sent him some side-glances, but never spoke anything else but confirmation of what Obi-Wan just said. He explained then how Anakin had won over the Son, using the dark being's love for his family to return him to the Light, the raw power he had used to tame him and his sister, and the way the planet reacted to his every mood. How he had decided to stay with the Father to gain a better grasp on his power, and to come to terms with what could no longer be denied: he was the Chosen One.

When no more words fell from his exhausted mouth, the silence hung heavy. Shaak Ti was the first to break it:

“So Skywalker willingly chose to remain with this Father. To withdraw from the war and from his men ?”

“I know it doesn't sound like the Anakin we know,” Obi-Wan conceded.

“And your point it is,” Yoda remarked. “The Anakin we used to know, no longer he is. Gone that man is.”

And to hear it said out loud by someone else felt like a starfighter crash. Obi-Wan hadn't moved an inch but the violence of the impact didn't spare him. The air came out of his lungs all at once, his brain short-circuited and his guts turned upside-down. It was a reality he'd witness for hours but constantly delayed the recognition of. The little boy with a bright smile, sun-kissed skin and sun-bleached hair, and worn-out clothes that he'd first met on Tatooine, the unruly but dedicated teen-aged apprentice, the confident young man who ran straight into battle to protect his troops...all the versions of Anakin he witness, raised, taught and loved had been destroyed while he was looking away. There had been no warning, no time for Obi-Wan to prepare and gather himself, he'd just blinked and his best friend was gone. Only remained now the shell of him, animated by something he couldn't name but that could barely stand his presence. At least Qui-Gon's death had been clear and final...

“And you say he refused to tell you what he saw, and who the Sith Lord is ?” Mace asked, with an unforgiving frown that forced Obi-Wan out of his spiraling sorrow.

“Yes. He said we weren't ready to know,” Ahsoka replied for him.

Whispers among the Council members flew and not all kind. Which Obi-Wan could understand.

“What was the boy thinking ?” Oppo Rancisis said darkly. “He knows full well uncovering the identity of Darth Sidious is one of our highest priorities, yet he deliberatly withhold this information ? It could be considered treason !”

A few members nodded their agreement but most hid their reaction behind unmoving faces. Ahsoka was not so skilled at that:

“How can you say that, Master ! Anakin is on our side.”

“Then why hide Sidious ?”

“Anakin was adamant on the fact that we must keep this whole affair from anyone within the Senate and the GAR. Not a single soul outside of the Council must know, he was very clear about it. It can only mean that the Sith have infiltrated the chain of command far higher than we thought. And if that's true...”

“Then the Sith have much more steps ahead of us than we anticipated.” Mace concluded.

“And that whatever actions we would like to take now in light of the revelation of Sidious' identity would be pointless, if not harmful for the Republic and the Order.” Plo Koon added.

“Still, choosing to keep us in the dark may not be the wisest course, even if Skywalker's choice is understandable.” Eeth remarked.

The discussion turned in circles around Anakin's loyalties, and Obi-Wan felt his temper flare up.

“I trust Anakin.” he said coolly. “I know he wouldn't have taken this path without a good reason. Trust me, I am well aware of how unpleasant it is to be willingly kept out of the loop, but I trust Anakin to do what is necessary. He didn't stay on Mortis just to train with the Father, he stayed because the different flow with time there give him a considerable advantage. No matter how much he changed, I still know how to recognise his way of planning a strategy. He's taken a step back to prepare a better leap.”

“I do trust Anakin as well.” Kit Fisto said. “But all the cards are now in only one person's hands. I'm sure you can understand our apprehension.”

“I do. But there's nothing we can do to change it now. Anakin isn't coming back for a year and Mortis all but disappeared, so we'll have to work with the few hints he gave us, and trust him to lay the foundations of the main work for us.” Obi-Wan argued.

“Right, Obi-Wan is.”

Yoda had stayed silent since the beginning and his voice caught everyone's attention.

“Go back, we can't. Bring Skywalker back, we can't. Trust him, we then must. Wrong he's been before, but doubting him now, no good it will do. But facilitate his work, we can. By covering up for him to the Senate, first. Obi-Wan, to Senator Organa speak of all this, you really plan ?”

“In a way. I can't tell him outright, but I trust the man enough to let him know that we need a proper cover. And I know my trust is shared. He will ask questions, of course, but he will help us. He will recognise the best interest of the Republic, I'm sure.”

“The senator has indeed been a steadfast ally of the order” Shaak Ti noted. “We can rely on him. But no other than him, if I'm not mistaken.”

“No, just him,” Obi-Wan agreed. “The Chancellor's not going to like it, especially considering his affection for Anakin. But he will have to accept our decision on the matter.”

“Hum, if Skywalker, in such a high esteem he holds, respect his choices he will, right ?” Yoda said with a playful smile. “To your officers to explain Skywalker's absence, say what did you ?”

Obi-Wan repeated the words Ahsoka and him agreed upon, and how Yularen reacted to them.

“Then it will be the official statement.” Mace agreed. “If we place the rest under black op label and Organa backs us up, the Senate won't be able to force the truth out. They will try of course but we will be in good legitimacy. The only reason they will fuss so much over this is because Skywalker is a well-known figure.”

“They sure wouldn't be so touchy for many other Jedi.” Kit said with a smile. “But Skywalker's rate of success also comes in the mix. It will be harder without him.”

“What will become of his men ?” Shaak asked, always concerned by the clones welfare.

“I already asked Admiral Yularen for temporary command of the 501^th. I'm not sure I will be granted that request, though.”

“And what about little 'Soka ?” Plo Koon asked gently.

All eyes turned to her, and Obi-Wan saw her shrink a bit.

“I guess you would rather stay with Obi-Wan ?” Mace asked her directly.

“If it's all right with you, Masters.”

Obi-Wan put an hand on his grand-padawan shoulder:

“Anakin asked me to take on Ahsoka's training until he comes back, and I agreed. It makes the most sense. We already know how to work together, and I've seen her evolve since the beginning of her apprenticeship.”

“Then decided, it is. Until your master returns, under Obi-Wan you'll train, Padawan. The fate of the 501^st to the GAR, we leave. Contact Senator Organa now you should. Now matter what is said in the next hours, to meet with you in person, the Chancellor will want to. All ready for this, we should be.”

With this, the session ended and the images of the Jedi flickered away. Obi-Wan leaned once more on the table, closing his eyes. This was but the beginning of a relentless storm, and even if he couldn't blame them, the mistrust of the Masters toward Anakin bothered him.

“You didn't tell them about his fall. Or about Luke,” Ahsoka said slowly.

“Do you think I was wrong ?”

“No ! They were suspicious enough without that information...I can't really be angry at them for that.”

“We must keep faith in Anakin. He may have turned into a very different person, I find it difficult to believe he will be able to stand idly by with all his new knowledge while the galaxy is burning.”

“Aren't you afraid he might...”

Ahsoka bit her lip, clearly searching for the courage to say her though out loud.

“Afraid he might fall again ?”

Obi-Wan thought back on how Anakin broke down on Mortis, how the simple memory of his son seemed to light his way throught the dark, how determined he'd look while telling them to leave without him...

“It will be hard for him, but I think he will make it. He is stubborn enough for this.”

Ahsoka giggled at that and the sound made Obi-Wan a bit lighter.

“Come now, young one. The trip back to Coruscant will be a long succession of meetings and half-truth. So let's just jump into it. But I will need you by my side.”

“Of course, Master Kenobi.”

***

Long years of politics and an unshakable brutal self-discipline allowed Palpatine to maintain a face of well-fitted displeasure, rightful anger even. His voice was cold, but any galactic leader in his position had the right to be in a foul mood in this moment, so it didn't raise any inappropriate questions. From the outside, nothing could betray the burning fury he felt.

Only Mas Amedda knew better after witnessing the onslaught of rage his master had displayed behind closed doors after the call from the Council informing him of Anakin's extended absence for reasons “better left unknown”. These pompous Jedi had the nerve to look at him in the eyes and tell him that the nature of Skywalker's mission was too sensitive and had to be kept under lock and keys, even from him, the highest authority of this government. At least Organa had the decency of looking contrite and sheepish. But none of them budged and it was infuriating Palpatine even more.

And here they were, in his office, a few days after the initial announcement, as soon as the Resilient had landed, Kenobi standing still and unmovable, Yoda and Windu on one side, Organa on the other. Kenobi looked impassive, and all of those damned Jedi were shielding too well for Palpatine to dare push his mind against theirs further without risking drawing attention.

“You are aware, I believe, that I cannot settle for such an answer, Masters” Palpatine said politely but in a tone cooler with each syllable. “You are asking the army to reorganise itself, for battle-fronts and troops to be left without a competent general, all in haste and with no other explanation than 'the less is known, the safer it is'. As leader of the army and the Senate, I cannot be kept in the dark regarding such important things.”

“We are very much aware, Chancellor, that...” Organa started, but Palpatine didn't let him finish:

“And this is not the first occurrence ! When the Lanteeb crisis arose, I thought I made clear I would not tolerate being kept in ignorance by my own security advisors and you, Master Yoda. As this Republic elected representative, how do you expect me to properly handle the matters of the war, which involve the security and lives of quadrillions of people, if I'm the last person to know the whereabouts and missions of its most important generals ?”

“I deeply apologize, Supreme Chancellor,” Kenobi stated in a firm voice. “But the nature of Anakin's mission relates closely to truths we've been chasing from the start of the war. If he's successful, we could put an end to this bloodshed and restore the galaxy to a far more peaceful state, which would guarantee the security and safety of its people. But Anakin can only be successful if he's unbothered by the spies we've long suspected had already infiltrated our ranks.”

Oh, he was good, Sidious couldn't deny it. His famed title of Negotiator was well-earned, but he was nothing close to what the greatest Sith Lord who ever lived could do, and said Sith Lord wasn't done saying his piece.

“I cannot possibly believe that Anakin would chose to turn his back on his troops to go run some undercover mission. It is nothing like him ! The way he speaks about it to me, the lives of his troopers are utmost important to him, and very few other Jedi manage to keep such a low casualty rate, if you forgive me saying so. And I can hardly imagine him leaving their fate to other than himself. So goes for the people he's meant to save and protect during his campaigns. Anakin is a man of action, not of cloak and dagger.”

“You know him well, Chancellor,” Kenobi said with what could pass for affection, if the man wasn't such a perfect picture of an uptight Jedi. “You know Anakin's loyalty and devotion goes to people, tangible and real, not to ideals such as the Republic or peace. All he sees is the immediate suffering this war is putting people through, and it pains him greatly not to be able to make it stop. That is why he chose to accept this mission. Because he saw the potential its success has, and he's firmly resolved to make it real.”

Damn Qui-Gon's over-clever apprentice and his silver-tongue. And the boy's loyalties weren't supposed to be moved like this. He, Darth Sidious, was the one meant to shift them, direct them. This was completely unforeseen. This was far too cold and dispassionate for Anakin, too calculated. Sidious had made good progress now into crafting the boy into a fire of passion and impulsivity at the service of his creativity and intelligence. The Hero With No Fear might be a Jedi hero, a hero of the Republic, he was of Sith molding and creation. And this...was definitely not how his precious apprentice-in-waiting would act. What could have possibly pushed him into such a drastic change of method ?

“It cannot have escaped Anakin's notice that with him away, one of our most victorious generals is removed from the board. Therefore creating more defeats, more losses. And what about the public morale ? Anakin is well-loved by the common folk who look up to us to bring an end to this conflict. What will happen when people learn that the Hero With No Fear will no longer be there to protect them ?”

It was Yoda who, this time, enter the fray:

“Know about this the public cannot. Nor most of the people, even within the Senate. If, to Separatist or Sith ears, news of Skywalker's crucial mission should come to, obstacles for him may arise. Craft a story for the general public we will have to.”

“So you would have me lie to the people who put their trust in me ?”

At this point, Sidious gave ground and made a show of slumping his shoulders and sighting heavily. Silently he walked around his massive desk to fall on his chair, putting the mask of the old and tired grandfatherly politician, and let his head fall in his hand, rubbing his forehead, as if drained of strength and will to fight - the perfect façade to conceal his aggressive response.

“I'm afraid we will have to, yes. And to sad extremes it leads us. But if you esteem that the best course of action is to lie to our people to protect them more efficiently, then I will follow your advice. Neither of you have failed me so far, why would you now ?”

None of them replied, but the change in their eyes as he twisted their words was just delicious. After one more moment of silence, Palpatine rose and stood before the bay window overviewing the endless city, his back to them.

“Senator Organa ?”

The meddler rushed to respond:

“Yes, sir ?”

“I am counting on you to come tomorrow with a decent cover story to be released to the Holo-Net.”

“I will not disappoint you.”

You better not, princeling...

“I will confer with Admiral Yularen and the high command of the Grand Army to decide the fate of the 501^th. I will keep you informed.”

Understanding that they were dismissed, the four men bowed and left. Once the door shut and he felt their presence retreat within the Force, Sidious dropped his mask of passivity and barked at Amedda:

“Secure a channel to Sereno, I need to speak with Dooku immediately.”

The man hastily bowed and retreated.

Opening his mind to the dark that was now firmly engulfing the planet, Sidious exulted in the sensation. The Dark Side was like a heavy and unmovable cover, shrouding the ecumenopolis. He had nurtured it for decades, with patience and care. Now its invisible shadow shrank the light in its pathetic effort to remain steady. It was a losing battle. Soon, the Dark Side would swallow the galaxy, as it should.

Expanding his senses, Sidious reached out, as far as he could, in search for his prized pupil.

Where are you, my apprentice-in-waiting ? What has driven you from me so ?

But the boy was nowhere to be found. His presence still lingered in the void of space, but his Force-signature, as imposing as it was, was all but gone.

What could the Jedi have possibly stumbled onto ? What lose end could they have smelled to give them such confidence in turning the tide of the war ? He would have to send Dooku to investigate. Sidious was too close to victory to allow any setbacks now !

He had to get Anakin back ! The Jedi Council wasn't supposed to trust him enough to give him such a mission...But not all was lost. He would deploy as many agents as needed and find Anakin. According to the Jedi, he was heading for Hutt Space and intended to remain in the Outer Rim for a full year, without any contact of any sort with the Order or the GAR. Anything could happen in a year outside the Jedi notice. Yes...Turning defeat into victory was an art Sidious has refine throughtout the years, and now was time to show his mastery of this craft. He would find Anakin and, far from the Jedi eyes, would try him, test him, push him to the deepest, darkest corner of his soul, sending him obstacles upon obstacles, and Anakin would return to him ripe for the taking. Yes, this setback could become the greatest of opportunity.

The Dark Lord of the Sith's face twistted into a dreadful smirk as he considered the many advantages the foolish Jedi had actually given him while thinking they were denying him.

***

Ahsoka's hand was suspended in the air in front of the door of her and Anakin's shared apartment. The trip back home had taken days, made of an endless succession of various meetings with the Council, the Chancellor, Senator Organa, the brass...Even if they tried to avoid another load on her shoulders, the troopers often came to her to know if their fate had been decided yet. Rex had to order them to back off and give her space. She had to lie and dance around the truth, all the while supporting Obi-Wan who was doing all the heavy lifting. She had been unable to sleep or meditate, her mind always reflexively searching for Anakin's presence but never finding it. By the time the Resilient entered Coruscant atmosphere, she was thoroughly exhausted, physically and emotionally. So when Obi-Wan had sent her back to the Temple while he went to his meeting, she had neither the will nor the strenght to refuse.

But now, even as all her muscles were crying for sweet rest, she couldn't bring herself to cross the threshold of her living quarters. Everything inside would feel of Anakin. She knew she was acting stupid. Anakin wasn't dead and she would see him again, even if not for months. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she lost him on Mortis...

Steps in the corridor shook her from her contemplation and, refusing to let someone see her without the courage to face her master's absence, she pressed the door open, took her shoes off and walked into the common area.

The place was bathed by the orange light of the sunset and Ahsoka instantly felt at home. It was something she and Anakin loved about their apsartment: the large floor to ceiling windows had no balcony but the sun was always setting right in front of them. No matter the season, in the evening their living room was flooded by that warm light, coloring everything in all kinds of shades of yellow to pink as the sun drew closer to the horizon. Whenever they were on Coruscant and Anakin was not away from the Temple, probably to Padmé's she now guessed, they would sit together in front of the windows and watch day turn into night.

She let her gaze wander through the room. It was just how they left it, their low table slowly vanishing under datapads and various droids parts while the small kitchen was tidy, the utensils Anakin had used to cook they last meal neatly put to dry on the side, her robe carelessly in pile on the couch, small crates of gear piled up under the shelf were books made of actual paper stood devoid of dust...The people who lived there were always on the move and it showed: the place looked lived in and an aura of restlessness swathed the atmosphere. Yes, it felt like home.

Ahsoka went to her room, took a change of clothes and went to the fresher. She turned the water on so hot her skin reddened within minutes and steam filled the place. She stood motionless under the running water, letting the sweat and the dust that recycled air always seemed to carry be washed away. But as her body became cleaner, her mind was still mudded. She felt...incomplete yet too full. Like a part of her had been cut away while another was added beside the void so created. Anakin was what had been taken away, the place he used to fill not exactly empty but its edges blurry, his presence like fog in her mind: there but uncatchable. It was strange, like the obelisk around Mortis was blocking her connexion to him. Unless he was doing so himself. Shaking her head, she tried to be rational: Anakin was on the far end of the galaxy, beyond the Outer-Rim while she was in the Core. No Jedi could feel each-other across such massive distance. It was logical, but she wasn't convinced.

And what was added...She had no memories of what happened after that wretched creature bit her in the Son's dungeon, but Obi-Wan had filled in the blanks. She had died, and the Daughter had given the last of her life-force to bring her back. Anakin had been the catalyst, transfering the Daughter's energy into her...

Shutting that door before it opened itself, Ahsoka drew herself back to the moment and cut the water. Determined to set back into her routine while at the Temple, she left the fresher and went straight for the kitchen with the intention to make tea and meditate.

Her eyes fell on Anakin's door as she grabbed the kettle. It was slightly ajar, as if inviting her inside. She let her bare feet carry her across the carpet and found herself before the door, tugging at the sleeve of her loose shirt like a child. A shine of silver in the room as a speeder with headlights on passed by close to the Temple and Ahsoka put the door aside.

R2-D2 was in sleep mode by his master's bed, connected to his recharge port. Ahsoka felt a jot of guilt at the sight of the droid. In all this mess, she forgot to consider what Anakin's absence would do to him. What would happen to him for the next year ? She and Obi-Wan already had an astromech, even if none of them could compare to R2. None of them brought about as much chaos as this particular R2 unit. Would he stay here at the Temple or would they still take him along with them ? Would they give him back to Padmé until Anakin returned ?

She walked into the room, the dimming light coming from the tall window giving it a quiet atmosphere, and gently patted the dome of the droid which came to life instantly. He beeped at her, happy to see her home.

“Yeah, I'm glad to be back too. But...I have some unpleasant news for you, Artoo-y.”

She roughly explained the situation to R2 who listened without interruption. When she was done, he made a disheartened series of beeps.

“Yeah, I know. I already miss him too. But, it's just a year, right. He'll be back before we know it.”

Her attempt to cheer him up sounded empty even to her own montrals. As she sat on her master's bed, she looked around as she rarely came here. His work-bench was organised but overflowing with tools and parts, unfinished projects pushed on the side or carefully put on crates. A poster of pod-racing hung on one wall, which made her smile. It felt young and carefree.

Everything that Anakin had not been on Mortis.

He had been afraid of the place, of what it meant. He didn't show it, even less said so, but she could feel it, piercing through their bound. And when they found him by the lava lake...Ahsoka had felt it in the Force, and it resonated deep inside her bones: nothing would ever be the same. Something at snapped at galactic level, as if the Force had stomped its foot hard while saying firmly ENOUGH. And Anakin, as the Force's child and Chosen, had been the repository of it all. Seeing how different her master had become, how colder, more aloof and mistrustful, and so very much damaged ! His inner pain so violent it had to get out of him as a whole storm. Ahsoka had tried to prevent its magnitude to break her, but her bond with Anakin was strong, and she had been hit full front, breaking her heart to know how much worse it was for Anakin. She felt so powerless to help the man she considered her brother and father-figure. She wanted so much to be by his side right now, to help him, support him and mend the cracks running along his soul like lightings during a thunderstorm.

But he'd send her away. Praising her. Telling her how much he loved her. Trusting her. So she had to do the same. She had to trust him to come back to them, not as his normal self for that person was gone, but healed at the very least. And she had to prove him right to trust her. She would work hard under Obi-Wan's tutelage, so when Anakin returns at his rightful place of master, she would be ready for whatever was to come. She would be his unshakable support and make sure to light his path whenever he might he might need her to.

Like Luke obviously had. Thinking of Anakin's son made her think of Padmé, and she wondered if Obi-Wan had gotten to her yet and if so if they were still having that long overdue talk. She wanted to come along as well, to be there for her, but Obi-Wan thought Padmé would open up better if it was only him. She'd go to see Padmé tomorrow, to lend a more feminine support.

But for tonight, she simply grabbed Anakin's pillow, wrapped his blankets around her and, with R2 near her, drifted off to sleep feeling safe surronded by Anakin's smell.

***

The last rays of light from the setting sun were casting beautiful colors on the marble pillars of Padmé's balcony, painting the whole room in golden shades of orange, yellow and purple. The sound of the distant speeder traffic was so muffled that the only sound was the soothing rhythm of the small water fountain at the center of the apartment. The atmosphere would have been serene if not broken by the constant pacing of the young senator.

She kept playing with the small holotransmitter in her hand, waiting with increasing frustration for a beep that wasn't coming. Bail had sworn he would call her as soon as his meeting with the Jedi and the Chancellor was over, yet it had been hours now since the Resilient had touched down and the meeting called. She had not been invited of course. Why would have she been ? She was neither on the Security Committee, nor a member of the GAR chain of command, nor part of the Chancellor's circle of subordinates. She was only Anakin's wife...A fact known only by the two of them. Of course the Chancellor had reached for her soon after the initial drop of the bomb, sharing his anger and incomprehension in the face of something so unlike Anakin. Surely she could understand, maybe even share, his feelings, her who knew Anakin better than most...

Except she was not angry. Not in the slightest. She was all worries and heavy heart. It had already been weeks since the last time she saw her husband, and now she learned she would not see him at all for a full year, with him running deep undercover operations in the most ruthless parts of the galaxy, alone and without any chance of backup. The Outer-Rim was harsh at best, completely lawless at worst, and even if war was no walk in the park, Hutt Space was an entirely different sort of deadly. All of these factors, including the fact that Dooku would certainly do his best to get his hands on Anakin, considerably harmed Padmé's ability to sleep at night. She knew Anakin was more than capable to take care of himself, still, the idea of him left to his own devices and her unable to provide any support, was already starting to eat at her.

“You should eat something, my lady. You haven't eaten much in the past few days.”

Padmé turned to see Dormé at the door of the corridor leading to the kitchen, C3PO beside her, holding a small tray of food. She stilled, but waved her off:

“It's all right, Dormé. I'm not hungry, anyway.”

“You should still eat. You are already stressed out, no need to put your body through needless trouble. You will need your strength for the coming weeks.”

Padmé was grateful of her friend's care, but her stomach turned at the simple notion of food, so she made a very un-senator-like face, which gained her an amused smile from Dormé.

“At least have something to drink,” the handmaiden said, taking a glass of water from the tray and placing it on the arm of the couch in front of Padmé.

“You are not going to leave me alone until I drink the whole thing, right ?”

“See, that's why you are such a good senator ! You know exactly how to anticipate your opponent's move.”

Padmé laughed lightly at this. She also knew how to recognise when she would not gain anymore ground and when her challenger would not back down. So she graciously took the glass, emptied it and delivered it back to Dormé's expecting hand, who sent C3PO to fetch another one.

“Why would I need my strength especially for the coming days ?” she wondered.

“You mean aside from this whole situation ? Well, what about the vote ?”

The vote ? What vote could she be...Oh. The vote ! The refugees' rights ! She'd forgot about it completely. Her concerns about Anakin had blown everything else away, even the one case she'd been working herself near exhaustion for the last two weeks. A flash of guilt must have shown in her eyes, because Dormé gave her a forgiving smile.

“You really care a lot about him, do you ?”

The handmaid's tone was light but secretive at the same time, her gaze knowing. And Padmé resisted the urge to bite her lip. Her handmaidens weren't fools, far from it. They would not be by her side otherwise. And they were closer to her than any member of her security. They'd all been friends for years and understood each other without petty things such as words. Anakin and her never talked about it, but none of them were blind either. It was kind of a non-verbal, mutual agreement between them both and the handmaidens: the girls keeping their distance, giving them privacy but keeping a protective eyes on them, covering for them if need be, and keeping their lips tightly shut, while she and Anakin trusted them enough to do so. Anakin, without saying anything about it, had been reluctant at first but then acted as if nothing was happening. And it could very well be so, the handmaidens always discreet and self-effacing, almost invisible. But there, always there, to protect their lady. Padmé wished they would speak more openly but knew Anakin wouldn't like it, too afraid that they might accidently let something out to the wrong person. Padmé knew they wouldn't, but didn't push. Still, she wished she could share this part of her life with her closest friends.

She was about to say something when 3PO came back, and he was not alone.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you, Miss Padmé, but Master Kenobi is here to see you.”

Padmé's heart jumped in her chest as the Jedi came forward, bowing respectfully to her.

“I apologise if I disturb you” her old friend said. “I know it's late, but Senator Organa and I agreed it would be best if I came to see you directly, instead of him just sending a holo.”

She noticed how intense his gaze was when he looked at her, and even if she was really glad to see him, she foresaw a difficult discussion to come. She still walked to him to shake his hand in a much less formal way, smiling wildy:

“I'm always happy to see you, Obi-Wan. And I'm grateful for your consideration. 3PO, please get our guest something to drink. Dormé...”

“At once, my lady.” the protocol droid said as he hurried himself to the kitchen. Dormé simply bowed to them and disappeared behind a curtain. Padmé then directed Obi-Wan to the couches, setting her holotransmitter down.

“I hope you don't mind, but I'm afraid I'll be there for a while. We have a lot to talk about.” Obi-Wan said in a serious voice that Padmé only knew too well. It was the kind of voice someone used when they were about to talk about things they would rather avoid. But, whatever happened, Obi-Wan seemed to have set aside his own preference and was ready to tackle the subject. He sat on the couch not too close to her, but his body-language showed evident signs of trust and ease, and she felt relief in the knowledge that, whatever harsh conversation they were about to have, he still felt comfortable enough around her to let his guard down.

“Ahsoka and I swore to Anakin that we would not say a word about all that happened to us to anyone within the Senate, but I have to make an exception for you. I wouldn't be right not to.” he started.

Padmé's small cheer died down on the spot. So...things were more dire than she realised.

“But first, we both have to be honest with each other.”

Much more dire indeed !

“I always found joy, and pride, at the thought of our friendship.” Obi-Wan continued in a more affectionate voice. “For we are friends, are we not ?”

Padmé smiled back, even if she could tell where this would go, because she couldn't just stay stone-cold in front of Obi-Wan open kindness:

“After everything we've been through together ? I would not have it any other way. Your friendship is precious to me, Obi-Wan.”

The Jedi Master smiled more broadly and looked down, touched by the confession. Yet, as it seemed to have elevated his heart, it obviously weight on him too.

“Then please, if you have any respect and affection for me at all, don't lie to me tonight. Even if I know it won't be easy on you, please don't lie, don't deflect.”

So that was it...

“Anakin and you are more than just friends, are you not ?”

It took her all her experience as queen and senator to hide her feelings and not broadcast on her face how terrified and sad she felt in this moment. She chose another approach:

“What makes you say so ?”

Obi-Wan didn't look upset by the manoeuvre, accepting it even, allowing her time to face the fact that she would not be able to get her way out.

“Anakin never managed to hide his feelings for you. He didn't have to say anything, all that one who knows him well enough had to do is just look. The way he looks at you, the way he cares for you, the way he acts around you. The way his eyes brighten in your presence. He has loved you since the day you first met. And after Geonosis, I found it hard to believe that you don't feel the same.”

“We may have feelings for each other, but it doesn't mean we acted on them. Master Yoda and yourself have been quite insistent on that.”

“But does either of you ever listen...”

Padmé was surprised to note that Obi-Wan sounded more tired than angry. After a moment of silence, he asked :

“If you had a son, what would you call him ?”

The question took Padmé completely aback and she couldn't hide her bafflement. She blinked repeatedly, mouth falling open, not knowing where the question came from.

“Please, just humor me.” Obi-Wan said with another sad smile.

What would she name her son ? She had always wanted children. But her and Anakin's situation certainly didn't allow for that. Maybe once the war is over, if they finally sat down and decide their future once and for all...What would she name her son ? Something short, and bright. She'd always like the name Luke. It was common on Naboo and could be translated from the old tongue by light. And it sounded as good with Skywalker than with Naberrie...

“Luke. I would like to call my son Luke.” she said fondly.

It was as if Obi-Wan had been given the last piece of a puzzle only him could solve. Something she couldn't name shone in his eyes and his smile was both of infinite sadness and greatest hope.

“We found a place called Mortis.” Obi-Wan started.

And words kept coming, retelling her of their latest adventure, describing her things she couldn't comprehend, couldn't conceive of. He talked of godlike beings, heralds of the Force, of Anakin's destiny, of visions and time-travel, of her husband becoming another person entirely and choosing to hide away from the galaxy. He spoke for so long 3PO came and went with drinks and food three times. They barely touched it, Obi-Wan too occupied with relating everything as closely as he could how it happened and making sure she understood it all, and herself petrified in her seat, unable to move. Night had fallen hours before Obi-Wan finally stopped, his voice raw.

Padmé couldn't formulate words, all she could do was stare vacantly at the Coruscanti night sky. Her mind had gone blank, trying desperately to process everything. She was hit by the revelation that what she found hardest to deal with was not the fact that Anakin very probably had time-traveled but that he could have fallen to the Dark Side and become a Sith. That, of all things, her mind couldn't accept.

“He couldn't...” she whispered.

“I wanted to believe that too. As did Ahsoka. But he admitted it himself. And that, more than everything else, would explain why he had so much trouble readjusting. I had all the way back to think about it, and I realise that I cannot let my feelings cloud the truth. Anakin fell. But he also had the strength to come back. Something that was never done before. He was given that strength by Luke. By your son.”

Padmé shut her eyes hard, unable to hold the tears back any longer. It ran on her cheeks, and she felt no shame in shedding them in front of Obi-Wan. It was tears of sorrow because in whatever future Anakin lived, she had obviously been powerless to save him, and joy because their son had succeeded where she failed. Obi-Wan took her hand in his, and she smiled gratefully at him through her tears.

“I kept those two particuliar points -his fall and Luke- outside of the Council's knowledge.”

“Why ? He broke the Jedi code, and I'm just as responsible...”

Obi-Wan remained silent, clearly searching for his words. Perhaps he didn't even know himself before she asked him. But, still holding her hand, he looked at her and said:

“Because you make him happy. Happier than I have ever seen him. I saw how lonely he grew at the Temple, against my best efforts, and how heavy his powers are often on him. You make it all disappear. With you, he can finally put aside the general, the teacher, the leader, the hero, the Chosen One...and simply be Anakin. As simply as he was when you first met.”

And at this Padmé knew she couldn't hide anymore. Obi-Wan had all but opened his heart to her, Anakin was far away, lost and in pain, and he would need all the support he could get when he came back.

“We're married.” she admitted, like a little girl caught her hand in the cookie jar.

Obi-Wan, clearly not expecting this, jerked a bit. His eyes widened and he considered her for a moment.

“When ?” was all he could ask.

“After Geonosis. When he escorted me back to Naboo.”

Obi-Wan let her hand go to rest both of his on his knees, leaning on them, his gaze distant, as other pieces of the puzzle clicked together. He exhaled strongly through his nose, and Padmé knew that, underneath all his compassion and acceptance, he was upset. Angry. And could she really blame him ?

“Will you tell this to the Council ?” she asked, afraid he might reconsider his position after such a revelation.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, as if berating himself for something he knew he shouldn't do, and replied:

“No. But you'll have to promise me never to lie to me ever again.”

That was a small price to pay, so Padmé agreed immediately.

“We will talk about his together when he comes back, that's for sure.” he promised. “Anakin said he would tell you everything anyway.”

“He didn't tell you ? What he saw, or lived.”

“No, he says we're not ready. Which heralds nothing good. I fear the Sith's plot is much more layered and complex than we could imagine. And, judging by Anakin's reaction, already much more successful. I took a risk by telling you the truth, because I'm afraid Darth Sidious' foothold in the Senate is much more prominent than we know. You are a skillful senator, and even if you cannot shield your mind like a Jedi, you guard your thoughts and feelings well, as long as Anakin is not concerned at least. You will have to put that skill to work now every moment you remain in the Senate's buildings. But do not change your outer behaviour, not to draw attention to you, alright ?”

“Understood.”

“I will keep you informed of all news we might get from Anakin, I promise.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. For...everything.”

Obi-Wan stood, signifying his intention to leave, but didn't move, looking at her with so many feelings intertwined in his features she couldn't read them all, which wasn't like Obi-Wan at all, who was usually much more guarded. Yet here he stood, and for a second Padmé felt like she was looking at the older brother she never had.

“I cannot say I'm not disappointed in you, Padmé. I thought that, between the two of you, you would be the one able to set firm boundaries and do the sensible thing. But I guess you are much more of a hopeless romantic than I realised. Still...if Anakin were to break his vows with someone, I'm glad it's with you.”

Her emotions were on a roller-coaster and hearing him scold her to praise her just after did no good for her heart. She stood to face him:

“I'm sorry we lied to you. I hope you understand why we did. But as I promised, from now on, no more lies.”

He nodded and, after a brief hesitation, took her hands again and squeezed them gently:

“Be extra careful in the Senate.”

He went to leave, but she brought him close to her and hugged him. She smiled when he returned her embrace. They parted soon, and Padmé watched him go feeling lighter.

Chapter Text

Anakin watched the shuttle rise then disappear between the thick clouds. He felt the moment Obi-Wan and Ahsoka left the atmosphere and returned to the galaxy, their presences dimming into the Force. In this moment, he knew there was no turning back anymore. But he was fully committed to his path, and he didn't regret his choice. 

Turning to the Father, he saw the old man looking at him empathetically. He seemed to understand Anakin's feelings and that for the best, as Anakin wasn't in the mood for sharing right now. He was tired, his body heavy and sluggish, his mind hurting from a lifetime of damages. 

“There will be plenty of time for you to train and learn,” the Father said. “But now you should simply rest. Have some food, a long shower and a deep sleep.”

“It is just early morning.” Anakin noticed, skeptical. 

“Because it is forbidden to lie down outside a determined set of hours ?” the Father countered with just the right amount of mirth. 

“I doubt sleep would even find me,” Anakin said. “I haven't slept in a long time...”

“Which is precisely why you should try and do so now. You need to get good habits back. And do not forget that a healthy mind only comes from a healthy body.”

A healthy mind in a healthy body...well those were two things Anakin hadn't in his possession since...since...well, better not go down that road just yet... At the simple thought of a healthy body, part of him wanted to cackle like a madman. He'd been a medical nightmare for two decades, a good portion of his mind entirely focused on just keeping him from dropping dead on the spot. He had to be careful about everything, and made it all worse by actually seeking out some of this pain to fuel his power. 

So the perspective of just going to bed after a good diner and waking up well rested was a hard one to consider. 

“Do you want to get better, or not ?” the Father asked, a little more insistent.

Not really liking being talked to like a child, Anakin's irritation sparked, but he squeezed his fists tight, swallowed it back and reminded himself he didn't choose to remain here just for the sights. 

“I do.”

“Then follow me.”

Anakin fell in steps with the Father back inside the monastery. He didn't lead him back to the small room he'd slept in on his first night on Mortis. Instead they went up a spiral staircase leading to a corridor brightly lit by a tall ornamented window facing the rising sun, where several doors aligned.

  “If you're to stay here with me for an extended period of time, we'll find you quarters you'll be comfortable in. Choose any room you want here. Some may contain changes of clothes, if you wish so. Take your time. Wash up. And when you're ready, come to find me in the dining room.”

“Do you often get many visitors ?” Anakin wondered.

“Long ago, sometimes. And never again in the future.”

His voice was almost sad as he said so, but a touch of happiness blurred that feeling. He turned and left Anakin alone in the corridor. Five doors lined up, and Anakin walked toward them. The Father was right. If he was going to stay here a long time, better get comfortable right now. It would be a nice change, to be comfortable...

He opened the first door and discovered a large bedroom with a high ceiling. The opposite wall was one massive window with an impressive view of the world around the monastery. Anakin hated it instantly. The view was beautiful but the room too opulent with its massive bed, stone-made wardrobe and plush carpet. It was the kind of room a king would feel perfectly at home in. It screamed of wealth and useless luxury. He left nearly as soon as he'd opened the door. 

The second door led to a much more acceptable place, more minimalist, but the ceiling there was too low for comfort and Anakin quickly felt like he couldn't breath. The third room was small, with little light, but otherwise good. Still, Anakin closed the door back. Going to the fourth, Anakin had the nagging feeling the whole place was actually trying to figure out what he wanted, narrowing down the hypothesis according to what he didn't like in one place. And maybe he wasn't completely wrong, because the fourth room felt perfect. Spacious but not overly big, it had all he could need: a large bed, a desk, a wardrobe, enough room to meditate and to add a workbench if he wanted to. The light came in by two floor to ceiling windows which reminded him of his shared apartment with Ahsoka at the Jedi Temple, especially by the fact that sunset would be right in front of it. 

Anakin sat on the bed, judging the room around him with his eyes, and scanning it with the Force. It felt good and safe. Anakin ran his flesh hand on the bed cover and marveled once more at the sensation at the tip of his fingers. The fabric was of simple making but soft. Suddenly feeling the urge to feel more, to touch more, Anakin put off his boots and socks and buried his toes in the carpet, its short pile tickling the sole of his feet. He played with the carpet like this for a minute, then realized he really didn't feel like putting on his boots again. Actually, all of his clothes itched, like he didn't belong in them, and he couldn't wait to put them aside in a corner and forget about them. So he walked to the wardrobe and opened it. No luck there. So he went back to the other rooms, and rummaged through them, taking with him as much as he could find and brought it back to his room. He put it all in a pile on the bed and went to the door he hoped led to the fresher. 

It was indeed, and he wasted no time in shedding his sweat-soaked clothes, tossing them on the floor carelessly and, resolutely not looking down upon his own body, he entered the fresher and turned on the water without thinking much about it. His body reacted to the contact instantly: the moment the lukewarm water touched his skin, he jerked back, no longer used to the feeling. He felt like a nine years-old boy again, who discovered that showers weren't only sonic. He had loved it back then, so Anakin willed himself to go back under the falling water. All his muscles unflexed as the warming water ran on him and Anakin actually had to hold himself still by grabbing the walls, fearing his legs would give out under him. It had been so long ! So long since he had felt anything against his skin other than the itching agony of synthskin and necrotic skin. Bacta tanks could barely wash it away...His hair was sticking to his skin as well, like wet threads of silk, caressing it instead of irritating it. Anakin closed his eyes and lifted his head, letting the water fall on his face. His nerves were waking up and were first baffled by the absence of pain, then ecstatic at the softness and warmth of water. Such a mundane yet vastly underrated pleasure.

He didn't know how long he stayed like this but it must have been long, as the skin on his fingers was now wrinkled. So he stopped the water, searched for a towel and started to dry his hair. When it was no longer dripping water in his eyes, he stopped and stood still. He knew what he had to do but part of him categorically refused to do so. He wasn't sure he understood why. It was a good thing after all...Taking a deep breath, Anakin looked down at his body.

His prosthetic arm had dried quickly and the metal shone lightly under the sunlight coming from the high window. How strange, how what was once foreign was now the most familiar part of himself. His arms were strong and thick, his torso lean and muscular, his legs athletic. His skin was a little red after so long under the water but he could still make out numerous scars, some earned in the Clone Wars, some during his childhood as a slave...He ran his prosthetic finger in a line on the smooth skin of his left arm, where the junction of flesh and metal should have been, marveling at its absence. The metal of the prosthetic had cooled a bit and sent shivers on the line Anakin had drawn and, with his body still wet, he was starting to get cold. It was strange, because even if his body registered it as an unpleasant sensation, Anakin's mind was still thrilled to feel it at all.

Walking to the sink, Anakin gripped its edges strongly, his knuckles turning white, then forced himself to look into the mirror. 

He knew the face that was staring back at him. He knew those blue eyes, the set of this jaw and those cheekbones. He remembered those dark circles under the eyes and the memory of how that scar happened was still vivid in his mind. He recognised the man in the mirror. It was Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, general of the Grand Army of the Republic and Jedi Knight, husband to Padmé Amidala Naberrie, master to Ahsoka Tano. He recognized the man in the mirror but he didn't know him because it was not him. It was the Anakin Skywalker that lived twenty-three years ago. Not the one who was alive now. Who that man was, that he had no idea...

When he arrived in the dining room, hours had passed. The sun had reached then passed its zenith, but the Father didn't mind. He was sitting cross-legged on a large cushion in front of a low table, and his eyes followed Anakin as he walked inside, going from his loose black shirt and black pants to his bare feet, glancing over his prosthetic hand no longer covered by the thick leather glove. He made no comment on his appearance as Anakin sat on the cushion on the other side of the table, and Anakin detailed the meal laid out before him. Nothing too fancy, just a loaf of bread, a bowl of soup, some fruits and a carafe of water. 

“Your body might be the same, but your mind isn't,” the Father said. “It's not used to proper food anymore, so I didn't want to risk you being sick by offering you something too sophisticated.”

Anakin couldn't agree more. Despite his stomach rumbling and contracting under the strain of hunger, he wasn't sure he would be able to eat all of the simple meal. Yet the smell was inviting and after decades eating nothing else but RedMed vitapaste, he couldn't deny eating solid food was tempting. 

So he thanked the Father with a nod, then carefully took a piece of bread, dipped it in the soup and brought it to his mouth. He actually moaned when the taste overcame his taste buds. The soup was made of an unknown vegetable but it was slightly spicy and the bread was not too salty. For anyone it might have been bland and common, but for Anakin, it was the best food he'd had in years. Chewing on it slowly to make it last, as if there wasn't more left, Anakin savoured this first bite with the respect due to it, enjoying how the bread melted on his tongue. He then started digging on his plate like a man starved, forcing himself not to wolf it all down and to take time to appreciate it. It still took him less than five minutes to finish the bread and his bowl. The Father was watching him silently, a soft smile curling his lips, as Anakin drank a cup of water in one go. He then took the first fruit he could reach, and took a bite with both hunger and curiosity. It was sweet and very juicy, with small pips and he promptly swallowed it, followed by three more. 

When he was finally full, he sighed with relief. It was so good to be able to do all those simple things again. To eat, drink, spend hours in the fresher, walk bare feet and feel every texture of the ground, to feel the air and the water against his skin...

“You will meet me here every day, at the appointed hours,” the Father said. “It's not negotiable. If I'm to wait for you to sustain yourself, I'm afraid we will find you frail and malnourished by the end of the month.”

Anakin shot him a dark look. What did he think Anakin was ? A five year-old ?

“Was your first instinct to rest and get food this morning ?” the Father asked. “Do you always sleep when your body needs it, or do you prefer to keep watch and busy yourself to avoid sleep ? 

Anakin stubbornly said nothing.

“No, you've always done the latter, especially since the war, and I won't even talk about your time as Vader. So, don't you think it's a good idea that I ask that simple thing of you ?”

Out of spite, Anakin remained silent. But he wondered how the Father could know so many things about him. He might have seen his future, but he couldn't possibly know his habits from before that point in time...

“If I am to teach you anything today, it will be this: take good care of your body. And that includes food and sleep on a regular basis. Now, you should return to your quarters and rest.”

Anakin hated to be told what to do like this. All his life, people had done so, ordering him around, deciding for him what he should be doing, how he should be feeling or not feeling. He'd been a slave, a padawan under the orders of his master then a knight under the orders of the Jedi Council, then an attack dog at the beck and call of the Emperor...He was done being ordered around ! His anger rose and it felt like fire in his veins, comforting in its familiarity. But he then notices the plates vibrating and splinters being torn from the table while the sky grew darker.

It was like a slap in the face. Closing his eyes, he focused on releasing his anger into the Force instead of fueling it. The Father wanted to help him after all, and what he asked did make sense and was indeed what was best for Anakin, even if he didn't like it. It would prove beneficial in the long run and wasn't that hard, if one thought about it. So Anakin willed himself to swallow his pride.

“Thank you for the meal.” he said. “I shall go back to my chambers now.”

He stood and bowed, not waiting for an answer. It was the best he could do right now. 

In his room, he sat heavily on the bed, his hands running over his face, shaking a little. He'd have to do better than that in the coming days. He couldn't just fall back into old habits because it was easier. He'd tried the easy path before, and didn't like where it led. And the difference between the light and the dark, between Jedi and Sith was just that: go on the easy path and you'll get the power you seek quickly, only to meet your downfall soon after. Go the hard way, and what you build will last thousands of years. He should know that. He knew that. Yet knowing and doing were two very distinct things...So much for claiming the moral high-ground with the Son.

“You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Your journey has just begun. You cannot expect perfection from the start.”

Anakin jumped to his feet, turning to find himself face to face with the transparent blue figure of Qui-Gon Jinn. Part of him told him he shouldn't be surprised, he'd seen Qui-Gon here before, but his rational mind always assumed it was some kind of illusion. Qui-Gon was dead. Dead couldn't come back. And the Son was no longer there to trick him. So to see him before him...

“Master...” he whispered in disbelief.

“I am truly here, this is no deception.”

“How ? It's impossible...”

“I have learned how to preserve my consciousness within the Cosmic Force.” Qui-Gon explained. “Something that, in the future you come from, I taught to Yoda, who in turn taught it to Obi-Wan, and they both used that knowledge to guide and protect Luke, and to guide you to the Netherworld after your passing.”

“Why did you never come to us ? In the past, I mean.”

“My training was incomplete, and I still struggle to manifest myself in the galaxy. It's easier here, because this planet is made of the Force itself.”

Anakin said nothing and looked at the man who saved him from slavery. As a child he had wanted him back so badly. Now though...He was filled with a resentment he believed only half misplaced.

“So, even if it was challenging, you could have shown yourself. To me, to...”

His throat closed, too many emotions raging inside him. 

“I understand how you might be feeling.” Qui-Gon said in a voice too stoic for Anakin's taste.

“Oh, do you now.”

“You think I abandoned you.”

“Abandoned me ? You saved me from slavery but left my mother to rot in it. You promised me a better life at the Jedi Temple only to leave me alone on the threshold. You tore me away from everything I knew with kindness, only to throw me in a world which didn't want me, to fend for myself.”

Anakin spat all his bitterness at the ghost's face in a cold voice, the cutting tone shaking the walls worse than if he'd yelled. But Qui-Gon took it, impassive, even sad:

“You're right. I should have been stronger. When I fought Maul, I knew I wasn't only fighting for the freedom of Naboo, or Obi-Wan's survival. He was proof the Sith were back and I had just found the Chosen One. I knew the result of this duel would define many fates, most of all yours. But I failed. By my weakness I failed you and the future that might have been if I had stayed with you.”

Anakin was surprised to hear him admit his fault. That was something he personally was terrible at, and twenty years in the Empire where everyone threw the blame on the person  next to them was a poor exemple.

“I do not know if I would have been a good teacher to you, or if I even was your Force-intended teacher...”

“Obi-Wan didn't do such a great job, in retrospect.” Anakin hissed.

Qui-Gon gave him a stern look:

“Obi-Wan did the best he could. He was too young, and not ready for the burden I so callously placed on him. He tried his best while being given no time to grieve himself. All he did, he did in your best interest. I know that he sometimes made mistakes, and failed to understand you, but you didn't make it easy for him either.” he chastened.

Anakin looked at the ground, a little guilty at the reprimand. 

“Maybe Obi-Wan was your Force-intended teacher, maybe I was. But what I know in my heart is that I was your Force-intended father !”

Anakin's head shot up, eyes big. He hadn't forgotten how Qui-Gon had so quickly taken that place in his heart when they were on Tatooine. The way Qui-Gon had been so kind to his mother and him, so understanding, yet firm and authoritarian, in a very different way than a slave master would be. As a child, Anakin would do as told by Watto but internally fought him all the way. When Qui-Gon gave an order or demanded something, it was easy to comply, and Anakin had always wondered if it was like that, to have a father.

“I should have been the one you would look up to as a father. But I failed you, and you turned to Palpatine for this. You are not to blame. You were a child, searching desperately for something and Palpatine is a ruthless manipulator. But know that this time, I will not leave you !”

“What do you mean ?”

“With your permission, I will assist the Father and help you to heal your heart, mind and soul. I will do as I should have years ago, take you as my Padawan, and teach you the best I can, as long as you are here. I will do right by you this time, and not let you face your destiny alone.”

“That is how the Father knows me so well, isn't it ?” Anakin said darkly. “Because you told him about me.”

“I did,” Qui-Gon recognized shamelessly. “We both take your well-being seriously, and two voices against your stubbornness are better than one.”

“Did you also whisper in my ear as I considered fighting the Son ? Did you use the Force to trick my mind ?” Anakin asked again with venom dripping from his voice.

To his credit, Qui-Gon stood unmoved by Anakin’s aggression, and had the integrity to admit: :

“I did not trick you. I simply brought back memories that would remind you of who you really are: a healer of a very special kind. You repair and fix things in a way no one else can. You made your conclusions, and chose the path to follow entirely on your own. You may resent me for now, but I know you are aware that, in this moment, you needed more than anything proof that you could follow a better, lighter path, to trust yourself enough to make the right decision for the future.”

Anakin hated the truth in those words. He hated feeling manipulated again...He hated that he still hated so readily...

Exhaustion took over him, and he let himself fall on the bed, shoulder slumping heavily.

“I need to think about it all. For now...just go.”

Qui-Gon didn't fight him, just nodded and vanished. Anakin stood completely still for a long moment, until mental fatigue drained all energy out of him. So he took his shirt off, let it fall on the ground and crawled into his bed. The pillows were so soft he sank into them, but the mattress was firm by contrast. He lay watching the afternoon lights play on the ceiling, but, way sooner than he expected it, his eyes closed, and he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

When he woke up, the light of dawn was slowly invading his room. His body was a little numb and his stomach howling for food, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so well-rested. The bed was warm and the light soft, his mind was waking up at an unhurried pace. He had no idea about what he was going to do today; for the first time in memory he had no schedule rushing him out of bed. Ensconced in the cozy bed, he indulged in a few minutes of doing nothing but enjoying the moment, stretching leisurely. But a few minutes was all he could endure. One thing he knew for sure would never change was his constant need to move. So he got up, went to the fresher, then organized the clothes he left in a messy pile on the floor into the closet. He put on the ones he wore for midday's meal yesterday, still leaving the shoes aside - he just couldn't stop touching, and therefore feeling, things with his hands or feet -, and finally went exploring for food. 

In the same room where he ate the night before, he found another plate of fruits and a kettle of tea, still warm. Biting in a purple grape, Anakin mused that taking time to savor his  meals wouldn't be a hard routine to fall into after so many years of vitapaste. He took the plate with him to the panoramic view, letting the calm of the morning settle within him while the sky grew brighter.

He was finishing his fifth fruit when the door opened and the Father entered. When he noticed Anakin, he smiled largely:

“Good morning. Are you well-rested ?”

“I am. I haven't felt this good in ages.” 

“I trust that you are, after sleeping like a dead man for nearly three days.” the father said, eyes gleaming with mirth.

Anakin choked, coughing for a minute.

“I slept for three days ?!” he repeated when he could finally breathe again.

“You needed it, so I didn't wake you. But now that you are back among the living, there is a place I want to show you,” he said, waving to Anakin to follow him. “You might want to put some shoes on. We'll have to walk a bit.”

Anakin stood and went to follow the Father, who didn't move and instead looked pointedly at Anakin's bare feet. All Anakin did was to raise an eyebrow, daring the Father to make any comment. The old being just sighed, recognizing that Anakin was stubborn enough to get his way every time.

They walked for about an hour. The rocks under Anakin's feet were hard and sharp, but his skin was thick and he quickly ignored it, while the tickling of blades of grass was wonderful and he often drifted off the path just to feel it.

On the way, Anakin took in the planet around him. It was green and lush, valleys and mountains. Far away, he could see plains and a river. It was warm and sunny, white clouds sometimes lingering around floating rocks of various sizes. But most of all, Anakin could feel the Force everywhere. The planet was steeped deep in it, and, now that his mind was clear after undisturbed sleep and set on purpose, Anakin could feel how strongly it resonated within him. His senses were all at the height of their capacity, enhanced by the presence of the Force, and he soon realized that was what allowed him to see so far away, hear the rustling of each leaf and the gurgling of a steam down the hill they were walking on. It was a wonderful experience for him, to see and hear the world around him in full colors and high definition, not hindered by lenses and damaged sensitive organs. His helmet had a terrible sound filter - everything came to his ear at the same volume, making silence blessed. Nowsound was sweet again. 

When they reached their destination, Anakin understood right away why the Father wanted to bring him here. It was a small graveyard for ships, consisting of a half dozen or more from widely different periods of times, judging by their designs, and all in more or less advanced stages of disrepair. 

“As I told you, you and your friends were not our first visitors. Those ships were left behind because another means of travel was offered. With the passing of time here, each withered away differently.”

Anakin approached  some of them. The one in front of him was a defender-class light corvette used by the Jedi Order during the times of the Old Republic and the Great Galactic War. It appeared to be in decent condition so he asked:

“Why didn't your son use one of those to leave the planet ? Why steal our ship while dozens of them just lied waiting ?”

“Because all of them need extensive repairs and updates to simply fly, let alone break through the atmosphere. My son was no engineer. But you are.”

Anakin let his hand ran on the surface of the hull, its metal warming up under the sun.

“This is Qui-Gon's idea, right ?” he said, just a little bitter. 

“It is indeed. He thought it would give you just what you needed: something to work on, challenging enough to motivate you but easy enough for you to practice moving meditation. It will give you something to do to keep occupy and avoid boredom when you're not training, and it will be necessary if you want to leave this place eventually.”

Yes, it was perfect. Anakin couldn't fault that. Qui-Gon really thought about everything...So why was he still a little angry at the man ?

He must have broadcast his feelings into the Force, because the Father gave him an apologetic smile:

“That's what fathers do.”

And Anakin would be damned again if he knew why, but that simple sentence banished all anger and resentment left in him toward the dead master.

“Alright.” Anakin accepted. “It is a brilliant idea. Qui-Gon is a good mentor. I look forward receiving both your teachings.”

The Force hummed contently around him. Both Anakin and the Father were aware of it, and the old being just said:

“So, shall we begin ?”

Anakin nodded and the Father opened his mouth to say something but his eyes fell on the ground and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Anakin followed his gaze and noticed small patches of blood on the ground, forming a trail up until his feet. He turned one upward and was confirmed the blood came from him. His foot was hurt in many places, cut by the rocks on the path. But he didn't feel a thing then. Nor did he now. His nerves seemed numb and didn't transmit the sensation up to his brain. Or maybe he was so used to much higher levels of pain he was just perfectly immune to ordinary ones. That could be both very convenient and very inconvenient !

“Lesson number one: shoes !” the Father said in a voice more strict than ever.

“No, thank you. It's nothing, it will heal in no time.”

“It would not have happened if you'd wear...”

“NO !” Anakin cut sharply.

Yes, off to a very good start...

That very evening, Anakin, the Father and Qui-Gon sat together to talk and agree on the best course of training. The Father and Qui-Gon immediately established that a strict and inflexible schedule was necessary, for Anakin to reacquaint himself with the simple things such as sleeping and eating at regular hours, so that it would become natural to him. Even he could already foresee a certain degree of boredom in the long run with this but, if anything, Sidious had taught him rigorous self-discipline and Anakin planned to put it to good use. 

Days were to start with breakfast at sunrise, morning dedicated to the physical aspects of training such as lightsaber practice and use of the Force; midday would be lunch-break, then afternoon would be spent in meditation and matters of the spirit. That part was a little harder to accept for Anakin as it all encompassed what he never liked or cared for, so spending hours straight each day on it wasn't exactly tempting. Qui-Gon all but baited him in suggesting to close the daily routine by some hours of work on the ships to ease his mind before evening meal. He was then free to spend his evening as he liked, as long as he went to bed by midnight. Even if it felt like being an Initiate all over again, Anakin couldn't deny it to be justified, and twenty-three years as Sidious's apprentice had tempered his rebellious nature, so he agreed. 

Before going to bed that night, he went to his room to gather his Jedi clothes, brought them to the courtyard, and proceeded to burn them to ashes. As the flames casted moving shadows on his face, he felt his teachers gazes on him from afar but they soon left him to his thoughts as they understood the meaning of the act for him. Vader had been truly born in the fire that had consumed the last pieces of the Jedi Anakin had once been on Mustafar. If he wanted to start anew, it felt right to burn his past selves. Even if nothing but symbolic, Anakin simply had to do this. A strange kind of catharsis felt upon him as he realised, as the flames were dying out, that he had no trouble letting go of what those clothes represented. So as he left the courtyard, he didn't bother turning back to look at the last remnants of fabric being blown into the wind.

The next morning, Anakin and his teachers found out that, if their training schedule was perfect on paper, in reality, it would be much more trying than they anticipated. Being young and strong again had its perks, but just as Anakin had observed after his awakening, his mind was trapped between two timelines and it impacted the proper functioning of his body. What used to be natural in his twenties were now much harder to pull off, even when it came to basic stamina and agility.

So for morning training, he started by running. Every morning, he ran through the jungles of Mortis, jumping over fallen trees, crossing over deep ravines, climbing steep cliffs, until his muscles screamed for mercy, his breath burning his lungs and standing was a feat in itself. He didn't go far at first, never able to run longer than a couple of hours when he should have been able to go at it full morning. He always came back panting heavily before he collapsed on the ground, only to have the Father have him start the lap again. He therefore always arrived at lunch-break barely standing on his legs, and wolfing down his food, his body desperate for some fuel and energy. 

One could think that this state of fatigue would make afternoon meditation easier, but one would be wrong. Sith meditation's technique still came to him most easily and that was no way to achieve peace. He once tried to convince Qui-Gon and the Father to forego this particular training point, and focus on moving meditation, yet they were unyielding, and Anakin had to suffer long hours of sitting still, with nothing but his past mistakes to taunt him, his fear of calling upon the Dark Side to hold him back and his growing anger at his inability to move past it all. That promptness to anger and lingering fear irritated him even more. It has always been a problem, now that he looked back on his life. Fear and anger were always triggered easily, growing worse with age, which was something his Jedi teaching should have prevented. He once brought it up to Qui-Gon:

“The Jedi are good and mean well. They always had your well-being in mind, but their failure was in not understanding you and your needs.” his mentor said. “When I first met you, you were well-adjusted, emotionally, but it slowly fell apart with the Jedi teachings, because, despite their best intentions, your masters failed to understand that those teachings couldn't be drilled into you the same way they were on others Initiates and Padawans. They wanted to make the best Jedi out of you, for you to become the best version of yourself, but they failed to account for your personal history, which was very unlike any other Jedi. They kept believing that you were the one who should adapt and adjust to the Jedi teachings, and in some ways they were right, but they also had to adapt the teachings to you. Like any symbiotic relationship, it goes both ways. There, it did not.”

Anakin pondered it deeply.

“I think here lies the root of your bumpy relationship with the Jedi. You misunderstood each-other. Where they tried to teach you to accept, control, then release your emotions, you thought you were asked not to feel those emotions at all. Therefore you repressed them, and repressed emotions always end up blowing up. But you are not the only one to blame. I often spoke to the Council about how I believed the Jedi were...not losing their way but...losing something that we should have never lost in the first place. But maybe you will be able to change that too, give us back what we lost. Show us the light...”

“Well, to show people the light, I need to see it first, and I feel lost in the dark right now.” Anakin said sadly.

“You were lost, yes. But you are finding your way back. You need to accept your emotions, your anger, your fear, but also your love. Your love most of all. Stop being ashamed of them. They are part of any sentient being, but it's how you deal with them that makes you who you are.”

So Anakin tried to shuffle the game to his advantage by using the Sith technique by focusing on his emotions, but only the positive ones: his love for his children, his hope for the future, and the will to correct his wrongs. 

It made meditation a little easier, but it was still a struggle as he was burning like a sun inside again, as with his old body came also his old connexion to the Force, hundred times stronger that what he'd been during his years as Vader. The Dark Side had granted Vader immense power, but the loss of sixty-five percent of his organic body had turned Anakin's power into the shadow of itself. Like a composer gone deaf, Anakin had the memories of the notes but could no longer hear them. Now, Anakin had found his hearing back and he felt both overjoyed and assaulted by the sound flooding his ears. The supernova that was his inner core was back in full intensity and it soon turned out to be one more issue, as under Vader's armor he was used to reach out fully, without restraints, to grasp as much power as he could and unleash it. The result as a monster more machine than man had been almighty ! So the first time he called on to the Force for a light push, Anakin had been none the wiser and what was once a thick forest now stood empty plain sprinkled of thousands of stumps. Every time he called on to the Force, its response was immediate and loud, and Anakin simply didn't realize how much power he called upon. By getting back the missing sixty-five percent of his body, he gained sixty-five percent more of midi-chlorians, each of them a gateway to the Force. His every emotion impacted to planet around him, as the Force reflected them upon Mortis, as the Daughter and Son's influence had, his anger was shaking the ground until it cracked open, his focus could turned the sand around him into glass during meditation, and when exhaustion took its toll on his mind and he felt hopeless, plants just withered and died. 

If Anakin lashed out, the degree of destruction he could bring about was nothing like he ever saw before, and most of the time, it was unintentional. 

So control and restrain became a matter of utmost importance. Padawan classes, day 1... 

It was hard for him to start over like this, especially when he didn't trust himself to call on the Force when using it. For even the simplest things, Anakin was terrified that he might feel the cold and sickly presence of the Dark Side. The Father showed great patience with him about this matter, taking time to explain to Anakin that it was all about choice. He might feel the Dark Side, but nothing was forcing him to use it if he didn't want to. The Dark would try and tempt him, all he had to do was stand firm and refuse it. Remember the sweet and tender embrace of the light, and the Dark would never take hold. It became Anakin's mantra, one that he repeated himself everytime he doubted. It's all about choice ! He did all the wrong ones before, so now was time to make the right ones.

His mind was begging for oblivion by the end of the afternoon, and working on the ships was the sweetest escape. Working on mechanics again, getting motor oil up to the elbows, repairing what'd been damaged...it felt so good. Making any of those ships work again was no small task, but Anakin welcomed the challenge with enthusiasm. He first had to make a full diagnostic of all the ships, see what he could salvage and what was no more than spare parts. It turned out the ship most likely to be revived was the light corvette Anakin had spotted the first time. So he had to sort out the parts that could be adapted to it from the other ships. Just this part was a plus-size puzzle that would drive most people mad but made Anakin's mind sharper. It was an engineer's fantasy and he lived it fully. Instinctively, he knew how to mend the broken power convector, how to upgrade the hyperdrive to match one of the latest models by using thousand of years old parts...It reminded him of what he truly liked to do and that caused no harm to anyone. On the contrary, his uncanny ability to work his way around any kind of machine had always led to salvation: it had allowed him to make life more comfortable for him and his mother, it won him his freedom, it saved countless lives as his incessant trinkering had pushed the GAR to remake the whole fleet to match the level of efficiency of his own flagship...If he could give a second life so effortlessly to machines, could he do the same for living beings ? Would he be able to fix the Republic and the Jedi Order like this ? Would he be able to fix himself first ? When working on the ship, he felt like he could safely indulge in this hope and, without him realising it, he always fell into meditation and therefore arrived each day at the dinner table drained out of energy, but the torment of his mind calmed a bit.

Evenings were spent differently every day to avoid making each day a clone of the other. During the first weeks, Anakin enjoyed most of all going out and explore the planet, finding out quickly that it never stayed the same and when he went back some place two days after his first visit, a different scenery would greet him. It made exploring all the more interesting, and revived his long lost curiosity. If he did not explore the outside grounds, Anakin would explore the monastery which, luckily, didn't change on a daily basis. He found the kitchen on his second day, and asked hesitantly if he could use it to prepare his own meals. He used to enjoy cooking, as it reminded him of happy times with his mother, and Padmé, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had loved his cooking. After so many years without solid food and working tastebuds, he was unsure he would be able to be any good at it again, and for sure, the first few tries weren't successful, as he couldn't properly measure out the seasoning. But he kept trying. 

He also kept finding new libraries as time went on. Within them, he found holocrons both Jedi and Sith. He kept resolutely away from the Sith ones and if he was intrigued by the Jedi ones, he wasn't sure to be in a mental place where he wouldn't just roll his eyes every time a long dead master would try to put some wisdom into him. So he searched for more practical things and finally found detailed blueprints from ships of all time periods, which would help him a lot in his work. He would sometimes look for the Father or search for Qui-Gon's presence, and they would spend their evening together, talking about various subjects or not at all. 

Then Anakin would go to his room and force himself to look in the mirror. The changes were subtle, but they were here. After a few days a light stubble had appeared but he didn't feel like shaving, so he let it grow longer, along with his hair. 

Then he would go to bed and try to find sleep, which turned out to be elusive and complicated again. He had been lucky that exhaustion had weighed so heavily on him on the first days, because his old good insomnia was quick to return. Despite his best efforts, and the sheer state of exhaustion he was left in at the end of every day, some nights sleep just wouldn't find him and he'd turn and turn again in his bed, wondering if hitting his head hard against the wall wasn't the best solution. And those were the lucky nights. The rest of the time he fell into an agitated slumber, plagued by nightmares. His regrets and heavy conscience bled into his dreams and he often woke up sweating at the sound of the screams of dying younglings or tortured rebel prisoners. Sometimes his mind couldn't find its way out of the flames burning down everything, from the Jedi Temple to his own body, and in those moments, Qui-Gon had to stay by his sides for hours, guiding him out of the endless loop of horror with gentle and rational words, reminding him that all those deeds belonged to a past he could now change. The younglings weren't doomed to fall under his blade. The clones could be stopped from carrying Order 66. Padmé didn't have to die, her heart broken. Alderaan could be spared from annihilation. All of it belonged to a future-past that would never be born, if Anakin willed it so. 

So he went to bed every night, with the dread of seeing his mistakes on display, ready to rightfully torment him, and the determination to keep them at the stage of nightmare, never closer to reality.

And so on, weeks went by, turning into months. Every day he ran a little longer, a little further, his legs getting stronger, his balance coming back to him, his stamina lasting longer. Within a few months, the Father and Qui-Gon had designed an elaborate racecourse throughout the planet to shame the Jedi Temple best training ground, only to keep up with Anakin's progress and abilities. 

As his physical limits kept being pushed further and further, it took him little time to perform his katas perfectly again. Qui-Gon was fully responsible for this part of Anakin's training, and was an unforgiving teacher. Even though he couldn't spar against his student, Qui-Gon had a keen eye to spot where Anakin could improve, pushing him to work on the forms he never favored, stressing Anakin's training in Ataru. First, Anakin thought it the result of Qui-Gon's own prefered style, but the acrobatics of the form proved a perfect exercise to rebuild Anakin's agility and stamina, in pair with running.

Anakin had been hesitant at first to pick up his lightsaber again, afraid the crystal inside of it would feel wrong and tainted by his dark deeds. He had tucked his weapon in a sheet and hid it away in a drawer of the desk in his room, forgetting about it for a few weeks. But the Father had insisted, pointing out that kybers were not known to turn against the Jedi they bonded with, and that fear was the very exact emotion Anakin needed to learn how to let go of. It was fear that had dominated his life up until now, pushing him to make all the wrong choices. It was the root of almost all of Anakin's insecurities and issues, and therefore was the one emotion he would have to tame the best. So Anakin had turned the blade on, and its icy-blue color allayed his mind. He focused on the crystal's song and found it as steady as usual. He remembered that Jedi and kyber worked together in a symbiotic relationship, as complementary partners, while the Sith submitted it to their will, like they did everything. If he trusted his kyber crystal, then it would trust him back.

Now, Anakin thought of his lightsaber as an extension of himself again, swirling it confidently with precision and grace in a completely made up kata he invented with Qui-Gon, where his hands never closed around the hilt, making it dance along his limbs instead in intricated patterns, the Force guiding his movements. He and his blade were not training, they were dancing, knowing each step the other had to take instinctively. This kata was made for Anakin and Anakin alone, to rebuild his trust in the Force and his lightsaber, and to finally remove Vader's armor's weight from his mind. 

During the meditation sessions, under the Father's patient guidance, he managed to go beyond his cautiousness, and found the Force waiting for him. Like a parent standing a few feets away from a toddler learning how to walk toward them, the Force was patiently standing still but ready to catch him. And each time he used it without reserves, he could feel the Force humming contently inside of him, rewarding his trust and inviting him deeper. Each time he managed to find peace in mediation (which was still a struggle), he felt like the Force truly had a will, as it worked alongside him to appease his sorrows and ease his hurts.

So he allowed himself to trust the Force and kept repeating to himself his newfound mantra.

He reflected upon Qui-Gon's words about being ashamed of his own feelings and forced himself to look into them. Love had both doomed and saved him. But now he understood why. He understood the difference between selfish love and selfless love. His mother had taught him how to love selflessly and, by letting him go to a better life even if it was without her and that it caused her sorrow, she had given him the example he should have followed. She was stronger than he ever was. Her life had been nothing but a long succession of hardship, pain and ordeals, but when it could have turned her into a bitter and uncaring person, she chose to remain kind and gentle, and patient, her heart never darkening one bit. Padmé was the same, in some ways, with her constant faith that things and people could be and would be better. Luke had inherited all from them both. 

Loving Luke wasn't something Anakin was ashamed of anymore. His son was his light, and he couldn't help but smile at how Padmé had perfectly chosen his name. Luke had been full of love, and had resisted the call of the Dark Side when Anakin had failed to do so. Luke was a better Jedi than most. If he could change the Jedi Order, he would try and make it in his son's image, which gave him peace whenever his somber thoughts threatened to drown him. He conjured his face in his mind every time his spirit lowered, clinging on the fact that, if Luke believed he could be and do good, then he would prove him right.

He thought about his daughter often too, wondering who she could have been and what she was like. Luke had been fiercely protective of her, and had loved her most of all, he could feel it during the final moments of their duel. When he had searched for Luke's past on Tatooine, he had found nothing about a girl or sister, so they must have been separated at birth, to protect them from Palpatine and himself. To know that they had found each-other once grown up warmed his heart. 

So he kept the thought of them close, and it gave him the strength to face his demons.

He found the courage to ask the Father which holocrons he should try first, which ones would be less likely to rub him the wrong way, and his mentor selected a few. Anakin tentatively started to learn from them. They were recorded by various Jedi throughout different eras and Anakin took the time to analyse how the Jedi teachings had changed up until today and, with Qui-Gon's guidance, started to form a selection of those he thought would help him best. When he stumbled upon a holocron recorded by none other than Bastilla Shan, he asked the Father where in all Sith Hells did he get it, only to be answered by a cryptic smile, which made Anakin want to slap him but he restrained himself without difficulties. 

The Father and Qui-Gon were fair mentors and always pointed out when he improved, and pushed him back in the right path when old habits clung too hard on him. Anakin was pleased to see that he had made significant progress. Still, when he expected it the less, his body reminded him of traumas yet unhealed and that he would have never thought about. 

When he went for a swim in a lake, he'd been delighted by the feeling of water around him, but when he dived underwater, his mind when on full panic attack as the pressure of the water around him suddenly felt like a bacta tank, unable to breath through the liquid, and he almost felt the straps that kept him in place in the tank on his skin. He had almost drowned, and fought his way to the rocky beach where he spent long minutes trying to breath again. He never set foot in the lake again after that. 

When training against remotes at their full power, it was only when the Father or Qui-Gon turned them off in a hurry that Anakin realised that he had been shot several times and was actually bleeding. He never felt it, just like with the rocks on the path to the ships' graveyard. His tolerance to pain was off the charts now, which was more dangerous for him than anything.

The Father also pointed out that his speech pattern tended to become more impersonal and posh, with halting rhythm and spasmodic breath, when his temper rose and he tried to control it coldly. Even if his respirator was gone, when anger was too strong, he started to speak like Vader again. 

So on and so forth, his mind and his body kept switching between recovery and setbacks. It was exhausting, but nothing unexpected. So Anakin kept going, kept fighting. 

And months turned into a year, and the man in the mirror was now very different from before. His hair long enough for him to tie them into a messy bun, his beard short and trimmed, his gaze more focused. The man in the mirror was no longer the stranger he'd looked upon on his first day. It wasn't himself yet, but he was getting close to it.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka was running fast, checking her chrono every ten seconds. She feared she might arrive too late. The hallways and catwalks of the GAR main docking bays were getting more crowded the closer she got from the starcruisers meant for departure in the coming minutes, and she had to slalom between troopers and officers, who were often courteous enough to step aside when they heard her hurried steps. Fortunately too, she knew the way to the Resilient so well she could have done it in her sleep. 

When the massive nose of the ship appeared around a corner, white armors with blue stripes started to fill the corridors as well. The troopers who saw her first greeted her very loudly so that all their brothers would hear, big smiles on their faces and warmth in their voices. Ahsoka stopped, her breath short, and took great care to wish good travel to every single member of the 501st she saw. 

Ten days had passed since their return to Coruscant and the war didn’t wait for them. The battalion was to meet Master Gallia’s fleet in the Kuat Sector for some preparations before heading to the Outer-Rim together. From that point, Ahsoka had no idea when she would see her men again, and it didn’t sit well with her. When the decision was made to redeploy the 501st away from the 212th, Ahsoka knew that she’d have to face separation, but it was way harder than she had anticipated. And as she wished fond goodbyes to her troopers now, she tried her best to hide it from them. 

“Came to see us off ?” she heard behind her.

All the clones had of course the same voice, but none spoke the same. And even before turning back, Ahsoka was glad to know that Rex had found her. And happier still when she saw the whole Torrent Company standing near the docking walkway, waiting on her. 

“I couldn’t let you all leave without at least saying goodbye,” she said while walking to them. 

“Going to miss us, eh ?” Fives asked in a way that showed he was the one who would actually miss her.

“Definitely !” she answered. “It’s just so...strange, to go somewhere without you all.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” Jesse mused, “Let’s just hope that the General will be back soon so everything can go back to normal.”

“And we can’t let you among the 212th too long, ‘less they start having a bad influence on you, Commander.” Kix added.

“A bad influence ? What do you mean ?” Ahsoka asked, slightly baffled.

Hardcase put his hand before his mouth while leaning toward her, as if telling her a secret:

“Those guys are crazy ! If we leave you long enough with them, you’ll start wanting to dogpile Grievous !”

Ahsoka laughed at the idea, and at the fact such a remark came from Hardcase of all people. 

“Don’t you laugh !” Kix continued “If we get word you try to dogpile anyone, you’ll be in serious trouble when we get back !”

She laughed harder, and she saw their faces relax a bit. In the Force, she felt their relief at the sound, and she knew in that moment she needed that laugh just as much as they did. And that they would miss her as much as she would miss them.

“General Kenobi is a good general,” Rex said as a siren called for boarding. “A good Jedi and a good man. You’ll be safe with him, and you’ll learn. So keep focus on your job, and don’t worry about us.”

The others nodded, and she said:

“I’ll worry about you anyway. Can’t help it. Be careful, all of you.”

“It will be weird without General Skywalker.” Fives admitted “I'm sure General Gallia is very competent, but it will be...too peaceful.”

“We're going into a literal war zone !” Corric said looking at his brother like he'd lost his mind. “How exactly is it going to be peaceful ?”

“You know what I mean ! It's all going to be...clean. Regular. Not-Skywalker-like !”

Yes, the 501th knew what Fives meant. And so did Ahsoka:

“You can still call me if you get bored,” she offered.

“Nah. You concentrate on your own front, and on keeping General Kenobi alive,” Rex said with a knowing smile.

The siren blared again for the last boarding, and the Torrent Company took their leave of her, not without a final nod. Ahsoka watched them walk down the gangplank, each step they took away from her resonating differently inside her. When the ship’s hangar’s door closed, swallowing them whole, she felt like something else just closed. A part of her life, maybe. The ship’s engines came alive in a steady roar and the reactors flared hot as the Resilient began its slow departure. Ahsoka couldn’t take her eyes from it. 

A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she released a sight she didn’t realise she was holding when she saw Obi-Wan’s face.

“Will it be alright ?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so. It’s just…”

She tried to organise her thoughts so they would make sense when said aloud. Obi-Wan waited, patient, even if he seemed to already know what she was going to say.

“I know that, as Jedi, we are supposed to let go of things, and not get attached,” she started “but sometimes, it’s just so hard ! I’ve spent the last two years with those men. I fought beside them, I laughed with them and shared their pain. I grew up with them, and I came to care for them a great deal. And now we are taking different paths and it’s hard to accept. That I won’t be able to have their backs or be there when they need me.”

“Well, if it makes it easier, remember that it’s not definitive. You we be with them again. And if you really care for them, you will respect them enough to recognize they can take care of themselves, without you holding their hands.”

“We’re at war, Master. Today was certainly the last time I saw some of them.”

“Most likely. But if you respect them, you also respect what they fight for.”

Ahsoka looked at the ground, and bit back the remark that burned her lips. It was not like the clones had any choices in the matter…

“You are allowed to care for them, Ahsoka. It’s only natural. What you are not allowed to is hold them back because of your feelings.”

“I understand. It’s just that...first Anakin, now them…I feel...like a building whose foundations have been swept away by a landslide and now I’m on uncertain, shaky ground.”

“I know you will need some time to find your new footing, and I hope I will be capable of offering steady ground for you to step on confidently. Never hesitate to tell me what you need. I might not always be able to give it to you, but I’ll listen. As for the 501st and Anakin, they are where they’re supposed to be, doing what they are meant to do. And so should we.”

Obi-Wan’s support was kind and Ahsoka was glad to have him, at least, still with her. And as both him and the clones urged her to focus on her duty, she pushed aside her worries, and looked at her grandmaster expectantly: 

“So, what’s our new affectation ?”

***

  By the end of his first year on Mortis, Anakin was physically stronger than he'd ever been, and his mind was slowly healing. But there was still plenty of room for improvement. 

Especially since this routine was seriously starting to get on his nerves...

His only two sources of interaction were Qui-Gon, whom he could no longer separate from the father he always wished he had, and the Father, actual embodiment of the will of the Force. He enjoyed both their presence, the games of chess with Qui-Gon that became a weekly ritual between them, the long hours spent with the Father where he told him about history long passed and deep inner workings of the Force. But, as a seasoned strategist and hardened battle tactician, he never lost a game to Qui-Gon, who was still keeping the hope he might beat him. And even if the Father's stories were deeply interesting, he was tired of having to look for hidden meanings and morale in everything that was said. Plus, his two new masters often acted like parents, well-meaning but parents all the same, and, at now forty-seven years old, Anakin was finding himself very short on patience when being treated like a child half the time. It did nothing to help him with his anger issues...

His ship was now completed, he even made it fly in the lower atmosphere several times, and he was now starting to build random droids from all the parts he had left. The monastery was seeing its population grow by the week with every new creation of Anakin, whether it was useful (that cleaning-and-laundry unit certainly was !) or pointless. 

He had read every datapad and book, and studied every holocrons in half the libraries, knew almost the entire planet like the back of his hand despite its changing nature, and boredom threatened to drive him up the walls. 

And now that he was healing and more balanced within himself, bigger questions started to keep him awake at night: how was he going to defeat Sidious ? How could he save the Jedi Order and the clones ? How could he save a galaxy that wasn't willing to be saved ? For the Senate had largely welcomed the rise of the Empire at first, realizing too late it's mistake. Palpatine had skillfully turned the senators' greed against them, used propaganda to turn public opinion in the direction he wanted to, and the people, all too happy to do nothing about their own fate, had drunk his lies and sat back doing nothing. 

He needed to work on a plan. He needed to know what he was going to do when he left Mortis, who he could involve and who he should keep aside. 

And first, he needed to know what was happening in the galaxy while he was secluded here.

***

“What do you mean I'm not coming ?” Ahsoka asked petulantly.

Obi-Wan had hoped she wouldn't get wind of the mission briefing, but his hopes proved foolish. He was just getting out of the briefing room with Plo Koon, followed closely by a few selected clone troopers, and Ahsoka had rushed toward them. 

“This mission is going to be harder than everything you've done before.” Obi-Wan explained. “The Citadel was designed precisely to contain Jedi, our data are out-dated and you are not ready for this yet. You are staying at the Temple. You can take the most of it by resting, and working on your classes. I do recall you having your essay about Galactic History due next week, no ?”

The young Togruta put herself in front of her grandmaster and crossed her arms, which made him pause.

“You are taking men from the 501st with you...”

“Because that is typically the kind of mission that requires the best men.”

“And I am part of the 501st, no matter their current assignment. I work well with them, I'm resourceful and I can help. I know my own skills.”

“Ahsoka...”

“You can't choose for me when to put my life on the line or not.”

“I actually can ! Until Anakin returns, I am your master, and it's my prerogative. There are missions for learning, and this one is not. If anything were to happen to you, Anakin would never forgive him, neither would I.”

“You're just being overprotective. It doesn't suit you.”

“How would you fool the life-form scanners ?” Master Plo interjected.

Both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka turned to him, surprised. Seeing she was being tested, Ahsoka carefully considered the question. It was a tricky one.

“Well first we'll need a crew of droids, of course.”

“That's already taken care of.” Plo explained. “Skywalker's astromech will lead a team of reprogrammed battle droids to pilot a stolen Separatist shuttle.”

Ahsoka thought hard on the problem. Drugs might do the trick, by bringing them to a state close enough to death to slow their heartbeat enough...but if the scanners were really good, they'd pick it up anyway, and it would take them to recover a time they wouldn't have. What would Anakin do ? She tried to imagine the most reckless, craziest, but still cleverest solution she could find. And it clicked.

“Carbon freezing.”

Obi-wan was first surprised, then impressed, then resigned. He pinched the bridge of his nose, making a face, while Master Plo laughed lightly.

“That's indeed a very good idea. Dangerous one, but clever. Your master would be proud.”

That made Ahsoka smile brightly.

“Oh, he would indeed !” Obi-Wan mumbled in the way that was definitely not a compliment. 

“Perhaps little 'Soka is right.” Plo offered. “You may need her more than you realise.”

Obi-Wan looked at her, standing tall in front of him, her brow set in a determined scowl, the corner of her lips turned upward in a slight smirk. She was growing more and more like Anakin by the days...She was sure of her abilities and wouldn't back down. Part of him still wasn't sure about it, thinking the whole ordeal too much to tackle for a Padawan, no matter how skilled. Yet Anakin's voice kept repeating in his ear “ Don't underestimate her” . He had faith in his Padawan, and had certainly seen her go through a great deal in the future, and wouldn't have praised her if she'd revealed herself unable to face whatever challenge thrown her way. He glanced at Fives and Echo who were standing silent a few steps away, but who were sharing knowing smiles and intended winks.

Recognizing defeat, Obi-Wan sighted:

“Alright. You're in.”

Ahsoka's delight shone brightly in the Force, but she was humble enough to keep it restrained on her face. Behind her, the clone troopers high-fived. 

***

“I think I should spend some time outside Mortis. Not long, just a few days. But I need to know what is happening. And I need a change of scenery ! I'm running round in circles here, it's going to drive me insane.” Anakin said as he was sharing evening meal with the Father, who put down his glass of water and looked at him.

“You were never a prisoner here, so if you wish, you are of course free to do so. I'm just concerned...will you be alright ?”

“I believe so. My connexion to the Force is much better now. I still have improvement to achieve in terms of control, but I do not intend to do much. Just observe, for now. Gather information.”

The Father stayed silent a moment, his hands crossed on the table before him, fingers tapping pensively. Anakin had learnt how to read the man and was listening to the Force clearly again: he wanted to say something but was unsure of Anakin's reaction.

“If you want to say something, just say it, please.”

The Father sighed, knowing better than to try and hide his intentions to Anakin.

“Qui-Gon and I were in fact talking about it for a few days. We think you should go and spend some time on Tatooine.”

Anakin froze, and when he spoke, his voice was blank and devoid of all emotion:

“Why would I ever want to do that ?”

“This isn't about what you want, but about what you need. Your childhood and the loss of your mother weigh heavily on every aspect of who you are. It is time you confront those. You need to face all that keeps you away from this place.” 

Anakin swallowed down the icy remark he wanted to make, for he feared he would be rude, if not downright insulting. But his anger flared the same. Tatooine was a useless sand-ball that brought more trouble than it was worth. It had taken everything from him, from his freedom to his mother. All that lived there were a collection of cruel beasts or pitiful beings. He had no time to waste on this Force forsaken hell-hole ! 

“This is precisely because you refuse so strongly to set foot there that you need to go,” the Father said without mercy. “It is the root of many, if not all, your sorrows. You will not be able to cure yourself from this poison if you do not know the ingredients needed for its antidote.”

“The only thing this endeavour is likely to achieve is me destroying everything there. I will want to kill every slaver I see, and they are many ! I will resent my own failure to free the slaves that remained while I was free ! I...”

Anakin stopped before he said something he would regret. His anger and his hatred were far too vivid, and it took him a great deal of effort to release just a part of it in the Force.

“You need to go, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said, his blue-ish figure appearing beside him.

“There is nothing left for me there,” Anakin fought back.

“You're wrong. There's still a brother for you there. Friends you might convince yourself you’ve forgotten about but did not, and who haven't forgotten you either. There's the mourning you never had the time nor the will to make. It is important that you finally accept and let go of what happened to your mother.”

At that Anakin jumped to his feet.

“Accept ?! How could I ever accept that she was tortured to death for no reason ? How could I ever accept that I could have saved her life if allowed to ? She was the kindest soul, yet she was treated like garbage. How could I ever accept that ?”

It's only when his mechanical fist punched a hole in the stone wall that Anakin took the measure of the anger he was letting flow out of him. The Father and Qui-Gon hadn't reacted to his outburst, giving time to process his feelings. His breath short, Anakin closed his eyes and tried to regain control of himself. 

“This pain you feel will not disappear simply by wishing it away,” Qui-Gon said kindly. “Your mother was indeed the kindest soul, and her fate is my failure more than yours. She deserved better, but we cannot control life. And if you want to grow, you need to accept that. You need to accept that it wasn't your fault.”

“I told you before, you need to let go of your guilt,” the Father added. 

“This will take time, and you will have to go several times to complete the process. It will be the most difficult step you will have to take, but once it is done, you will understand why it was vital for you to do so,” Qui-Gon finished. 

Silence stretched as Anakin refused to meet their gaze, unable to accept that they were right.

“Have we ever led you astray so far ?” the Father asked.

“No...”

“And as I said, there are things waiting for you on Tatooine.” Qui-Gon said. “More than things, people. Owen and Beru. Your old friends. Go to them, see through their eyes.”

Every single part of him was fighting the idea. The simple thought of Tatooine made his stomach turn. He could almost hear the unremitting desert's wind and feel grains of sand between his toes and in his clothes. He could feel the unforgiving heat of the twin suns...

“I will think about this. I leave tomorrow, in the morning. Time will be different, so don't wait for me,” he said without looking at them, closing the discussion and agreeing to nothing.

He all but fled to his room. His mind was a hurricane and he needed to move to calm it down, so he grabbed a bag he found in one of the abandoned ships and started filling it with spare clothes, datapads, comlinks and other bits of technology he knew he'll need and which he'd managed to recreate. When all that was missing was supplies, he had to admit that packing with frenzy wasn't enough. Sitting crossed legs on the floor, Anakin tried his best to stop his fists from shaking. 

With a few words, Qui-Gon and the Father had managed to awake in him the same dread that had caused his downfall. It was the same crushing terror he'd felt when he had woken up from his vision of Padmé dying. And now, the idea of returning to Tatooine paralyzed him just the same. When he'd gone to it in search of information about Luke, he hadn't thought much about it, trapped in his tunnel visioned-focus, seeing nothing but his son and a way to get his hands on him. Now that that was out of the table, all the rest came crashing on him with the sound of Tusken's screams. 

The worst of it all was the knowledge that his teachers were right, and he was wrong. Deep down he knew it. But changing his stripes wasn't that easy, and Anakin would rather not think about it instead of confronting it. Fortunately for his long term sanity, he knew better now. So he took a deep breath and let his mind slowly drift into the Force. Light-side meditation was still  hard for him, so it took longer than normal to reach that state. He let his doubts and fears leave his mind, trusting the Force to understand his distress and guide him toward an answer. But whatever the Force response was, Anakin didn't get it. All the Force did was rock him gently in its currents. Anakin knew he wouldn't get more, so he came back to awareness and went to bed, happy to at least go to sleep with a great deal of his anger drained off.

That night, he dreamt of an endless, flat, white emptiness. The ground was hard and hot under his feet, and light was so blinding he couldn't see further than his own hand. As he walked aimlessly, the place gave off a powerful sense of wildness, harsh and indomitable, of danger yet opportunity. It was inviting yet silent warning pulsated through the air. Being there was painful as the very atmosphere clutched his heart, not because it was inhospitable, but because of the emotions it carried. Yet the longer he stayed and the more it hurt, the more reinvigorated he felt, like a plant watered after too long. On the path he walked on, he saw bits of metal stick out of the salt-like sand. It looked like broken chains, but he couldn't be sure. At last he saw a figure on the horizon, and hurried his pace. Once he was close enough, he recognized the figure as himself. Identical in every way to the face he'd seen in the mirror before going to bed. But his eyes were different. As his reflection looked at him, Anakin saw stars and nebulas and black-holes within his pupils. The Anakin standing in front of him held out his hand. As he pondered whether to take it or not, Anakin saw two tiny pairs of hands appearing on each side on his reflection's legs. Looking down, Anakin saw the curious faces of a blond little boy and a brown-headed little girl poke from behind his reflection. As he understood who he was looking at, the vision faded and he woke up, fascinated and filled with longing. 

***

On the way back from Lola Sayu, Obi-Wan had learn to trust his new charge and to look beyond his own worries about her. She was more than capable, and had proven so by handling the whole mission impressively, being ultimately vital for its success by inheriting half the coordonate from late Master Piell. So even if Even's death tainted the mission painfully, Obi-Wan was returning to Coruscant with a relative feeling of victory. 

A feeling not completely shared by Ahsoka. What she had learned was to be careful what you wish for. She'd pushed to be part of the mission, and it had tried her hard. She failed to protect Master Piell, and she spent an entire hour sitting by Fives and Rex's sides, without speaking, without looking at each other, simply finding a small measure of comfort in each-other's presence, Echo's loss heavy on their hearts. She had been given a good look at what Jedi Knights and Masters faced on a more regular occurrence, and understood that, even if she had done well, she still had a lot to learn, and wasn't in a great hurry to be knighted. The knowledge of half the coordonate to the Nexus route were weighing on her, but she was resolute to carry on her duty until the end as she had promised.

They were about to exit hyperspace when she knocked on Obi-Wan's door. 

“Come in”

She found him crossed legs on his bed, and understood she'd interrupted his meditation.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Master, but I need to speak with you.”

Obi-Wan invited her to sit on the chair in front of him with a gesture, and she did so, bringing the chair closer to him, in a conspiring manner.

“Something's been bothering me ever since we left Lola Sayu. It's about the coordinates.”

“You fear giving them away would be turned against us.”

Obi-Wan's voice was posed and measured. He was showing no outer signs of the inner debate that was repeating in his head. 

“I do. We don't know how far up in the Senate’s hierarchy Darth Sidious is, he could find a way to give the Nexus route to the Separatist.”

He gave her an appreciating nod:

“I thought about it too. Unfortunately, I'm afraid our hands are tied on this matter. Captain Tarkin knows the other half, he will press for the part in your possession. And we already made too many waves with the whole ordeal around Anakin. The Chancellor would not allow nor forgive another initiative like this. If we, as Jedi, chose to keep for ourselves information specifically meant for the high authorities of the Republic, it will do much more harm than good. The consequences would be severe, and we are in no position to suffer them.”

Ahsoka conceded his point, but the idea still made her feel uneasy. 

“I understand your apprehension, and I share it, but all we can do now, is hope that the Republic will make the best of this knowledge anyway. If we keep going forward fearing our every move will be turned against us by the Sith, we will end up sitting still.”

Ahsoka stayed quiet but agreed. 

“I don't like Tarkin,” she said, sounding like the fifteen years-old she was.

“Captain Tarkin,” Obi-Wan corrected her with an amused expression. “And I don't appreciate him either. But we'll suffer him anyway. He's good at what he does, and Master Piell trusted him enough to split the coordinates with him. He takes the interests of the Republic at heart.”

“He despises Jedi. He won't care much about our interests, given the chance to.”

“But when have the Republic's interests and the Jedi's become two distinct things ?” Obi-Wan asked sadly.

And at this, Ahoska had no answer to give.

***

The Father and Qui-Gon both bid him goodbye the next morning as he loaded the few supplies he'd prepared aboard his ship. He nodded to them, secured his lightsaber to his belt and went to sit on the pilot's chair. The noise of the engine was so fluid, the response of the helm so quick and the inside so pristine, only the outer design of the corvette pointed it out as a thousand years old ship. It rose in the sky smoothly, and Anakin sat back in his chair with pride. Leaving the atmosphere was easy, the hull taking the heat without problem. The Father warned him that he would be blinded by white light and lose consciousness for a minute, so Anakin was not surprised when he came back to himself in the emptiness of space without remembering entering it. 

Looking at his scopes, he saw that Mortis didn't appear on them, as he was warned it would, but he knew it was still there. He went to enter coordinates in the astronav computer, only to realize he had no idea where to go. It suddenly hit him that he could go wherever he wanted. Outer-Rim, Core Worlds, Expansion Regions...he was free to go wherever he felt like it. He had no mission, was in no rush to get somewhere, wasn't expected anywhere. All he had to do was choose a place to go and something to do. On his own, according to his own desires. 

Never before, in his entire life, had he been so free. 

All the places he ever went to had been on assignment, by Gardula or Watto, the Jedi or the Emperor. Every time he went somewhere, not on order, it was because he had business there related to ongoing missions or because someone had asked him. Even when he eloped to see Padmé or retreated in his fortress on Mustafar, it had never really felt like freedom no matter how much he deluded himself into thinking so, something always hovering above him. 

Now, the feeling of freedom was settling hard inside him, and he found out he couldn't possibly guess what he was supposed to do with it. The galaxy was waiting in front of him, and it made him dizzy, but he pushed aside his mesmerised thought about freedom and slipped back into the role of the strategist. He entered the coordinates for Rishi and jumped to hyperspace. The place was perfect. Right under the Republic's nose with the GAR station on its moon to guard the path to Kamino, no one would look for him there and the news about the war would be easy to find. The planet had a long history as the last outpost before Wild Space and its trade centers attracted people of any kind, with more or less shaddy background, so no one ever asked questions as long as money flowed and no trouble arose. Anakin only had to hope that the clone's patrols weren't too numerous. 

The trip wasn't too long, and Anakin spent it sorting the parts and droids he brought along to sell, as he knew he couldn't remain without credits. Within hours, he jumped out of hyperspace and the green surface of the planet filled the viewport. As predicted, there was a heavy concentration of Republic ships around the moon, far in the distance, but Anakin didn't feel concerned. Asking the Force for confirmation, he had his instincts proved right as the Force was quiet and calm. He flew in direction of one of the main spaceport and, upon entering the atmosphere, he was hailed by traffic control:

“This is Sky Ridge Spaceport control, you appear on our scopes, state your destination and purpose, please.”

“Heading to Sky Ridge, to refuel and sell parts and droids.”

“Where do you come from ?”

“Batuu. Black Spire.” Anakin replied without missing a bit.

He waited only a few minutes before traffic control said:

“Docking bay XV-2 is waiting for you. Republic patrols happen from time to time so if you have anything you shouldn't with you, keep it low-key. Welcome to Rishi, New Dawn .”

Sky Ridge turned out to be well populated, with a large variety of species, all too happy not to look too closely at each-other as long as blasters stayed in their holsters. Anakin quickly found places to sell his parts and droids and was pleased to see his bargaining skills were still intact. He was even happier to see that his first instinct wasn't to threaten into compliance, even when the deal was hard won. No, barter came naturally, and in a corner of his mind, he thanked the Jawas for the development of this particular skill. He soon learnt the age of the parts was an asset and not a disadvantage, 'cause it highlighted his skills as a mechanic. The last junk dealer he negotiated with, a Cosian named Ovek, even offered him a few days' job, to help repair unyielding machines and engines. As he could use the credits, had nothing decided in mind as to what to do next, and was in fact quite taken by the idea, Anakin accepted. 

He spent the next three days arms deep in motor oil as he fixed everything that came within reach, talking with Ovek and his customers, asking them about the latest developments of the war, while they watched, fascinated, as junk turned into better-than-new under his fingers. In the course of all the discussions, he understood that, by galactic standard, he'd been gone barely for a month. He was told that the GAR's brass had been quite agitated with the sudden departure of one of their best generals for an undercover mission in Hutt-Space. He recognized Obi-Wan's hand in this, and couldn't help a small smile. What happened at the Citadel didn't change much, Master Piel still died, Echo was still considered KIA, and the Nexus Route was still in the Republic's safe hands (he scoffed at that and hid it under a false cough). 

For now his absence had caused a wave of unrest among the brass, but had no real impact so far. Which kind of hurt his pride...But it had only been a month. Meanwhile, he kept gloves on to hide his prosthetic hand and his lightsaber under his shirt, let his beard grow a bit longer to better hide his face, carefully avoided the few clone patrols, presented himself as simply Jinn, and refrained from being too good at repairing stuff. It was nice to interact with other people, to work on machinery alongside a pretty laid back boss. To earn money honestly for his labor. To be completely unknown and be able to walk among people without them fleeing in the opposite direction. As Vader, he had appreciated the fear he provoked in others, but as Anakin he was sure he wouldn't have handled it well. Anakin had never liked to be alone and lonely. So working alongside Ovek was nice, even if a tingling feeling he couldn’t name kept creeping in the back of his mind. The old Cosian had figured out pretty soon that Anakin was not the talking sort, and was more than happy to talk for two, retelling old Rishi folklore, things he'd heard about far away places, or simply the latest gossip in town. Anakin didn't mind, he was perfectly capable of focusing on his job despite Ovek's talk and the holoscreen broadcasting the most recent news of the galaxy they kept on most of the time when Ovek understood Anakin's interest in galactic politics. 

It was one evening, when Ovek was explaining to him how the local crazy farmer had acquired a bunch of baby banthas and planned to start to breed them, that something on the holoscreen stopped Anakin's heart, making him drop his screwdriver with a loud noise.

“I know ! Stupid, right ! Those poor beasts will never adapt to this planet !” Ovek said, taking Anakin's reaction as a response to his own babbling, unaware of how his employee was frozen on the spot, eyes open wild and fixated on the screen.

But Anakin couldn't care less about the old man rambling. In a single second, the world had vanished and reduced itself at the images he saw. It was a Senate session broadcasting live about the war refugees' rights, as a critical vote was supposed to take place that very day. And, presenting the Loyalists arguments, her pod hovering near the center of the massive room, stood Padmé. Anakin couldn't take his eyes off her as her figure had erased all sense of reality and time for him, his mind locked on her, gorgeous in her deep blue and gold dress, her hair tied up behind her head in one of those intricate hairstyles she favored, defending with passion a bill Anakin had no doubt she helped writing. Her voice resonated in his ears and it deafened him to the rest of the world. The universe could shatter for all he cared, because if this was live, then that meant she was alive and well and fierce, thousands and thousands of parsecs away from him, but alive ! So very much alive ! He didn't kill her...He didn't hurt her...She was safe...

“You’re okay, Jinn ?” Ovek asked, worried as he tugged at Anakin’s sleeve.

Only then, as the world around him was brought back into his awareness, did he realize tears were running down his cheeks. He wiped them off rapidly with the back of his hand and mumbled a “sorry” while picking up his tool. Ovek looked at him with a knowing look:

“Got family within the refugees ? Is that why you scrap what you can here ? To bring enough credits for a fresh start ?”

Taking this way out head first, Anakin just said yes and focused back on his work, trying to steady his shaking hands, which would rather hold his wife than a broken power-cell. 

The next day, Anakin understood real fast that his concentration was broken. He nearly walked into a clone patrol, thought strongly about choking the idiot who had the guts to say his work wasn't perfect because he didn't want to pay for it, and repaired a hyperdrive three times faster that any good mechanic would have.

Seeing Padmé had taken over his mind, and now all he could think about was her. Which led back to bad habits. 

It had only been five days since he arrived, but he had all the information he needed, a good stack of credits and his temper was flickering. 

So he thanked Ovek for his kindness and took his leave. By the end of the day, he was back on Mortis.

“I can't get this thought out of my mind,” he said to Qui-Gon as they sat together and watched the sun set.

“What thought ?”

“That she's better off without me...” Anakin admitted, heartbroken.

Qui-Gon said nothing, waiting for Anakin to unload his heart.

“She deserves a thousand times more than what I ever gave her. She deserves to be happy with a husband she isn't forced to hide, to have children like she always wanted to...She deserves someone whom she can rely on to be there for her whenever she needs them, to think of her best interest first and foremost. Someone who won't be so possessive and let her be her own person. My love for her was selfish and greedy, I know that now. In the end, I didn't care about what she wanted and needed, only about what I wanted and needed. I pushed her away as much as I tried to rope her to me...”

“What are you saying ?” Qui-Gon asked even though he'd already guessed.

Anakin stood up, walking to stand in the orange light of the setting sun, all too aware of every piece of his heart shattering. This pain was worse than every pain he ever knew. Worse than the lava and its flames eating his flesh away, worse than the days-long reconstruction operation without anaesthetics that followed. It was a pain that triggered another pain, equally devastating.

“I have to let her go...” he managed to say between his choked sobs.

Let her go and let her live. He had always been the one needing her in order to survive, she on the other hand could do fine without him. How could the desert not fall in love with the gentle waterfall ? She had brought forth life in the arid nothingness that was his being, and he had soaked it all up greedily for himself leaving nothing for her, and when her source had run out it had left nothing but endless drought. The waterfall alone couldn’t water the whole desert. The best thing the desert could do was watch for afar as the waterfall thrived among singing rivers and endless fields of wildflowers.

“But if you do that, then...”

“Then Luke and Leia will never be born, I know !”

Oh yes. He'd had plenty of time to think about his daughter and her identity. And he had put the pieces together, cursing his stupidity. She'd been right there, right under his nose, the whole time. This bright, clever and fearless girl, who looked so much like Padmé and had the name he had chosen. He had hated Organa for having named his child with the one meant for his own child, and with a meaning Organa couldn't possibly begin to understand. But now, how happy he was that she'd been raised by people like Bail and Breha Organa, who had given her everything, loved her absolutely and raised her to be a brave leader, ready to face everything for the greater good. How proud he was, to be her father. How horrified he was, to have hurt her so deeply and repeatedly. She hated him, and she was right to do so. She was everything he'd hoped she would be, and he had disappointed her in every possible way. 

That night, he went to sleep with the thought of the family he, against all good sense, still wanted so much. 

And again, he had the vision of the endless white desert, with his reflection waiting for him, Luke and Leia half hidden behind his legs. Looking up to the sky, Anakin saw a sun above each of their heads. 

The vision came to him again the night after. And after. And after...

The Force could be cryptic and crystal clear at the same time. It could also be a little overbearing when it wanted to, and Anakin grew tired of being poked in the ribs with a durasteel pole. Whether he liked it or not, the Force wanted him to go on Tatooine, and was not ready to erase Luke and Leia from his possibilities. 

So Anakin loaded supplies aboard the New Dawn again and as he was about to depart, he turned to the Father and Qui-Gon and said in a tone to rival Vader's best irritated moment:

“You both wash those self-satisfied feelings out of the Force this very instant. And I will do fine without any comment.”

Yes, his mood was off to a great start ! They would be lucky if Anakin didn't kill anyone...Unlikely, but one could still hope...

Sitting in the pilot chair, Anakin remained motionless as his mind dissociated. He knew he had to go, both his teachers and the Force itself were quite clear on the subject, but the idea still sickened him. He couldn’t bear the thought of staying in this blasted desert longer than necessary, especially for this first time, so he decided to go straight to the Lars’ farm, and get to better know the people who raised Luke into the wonderful man he grew into. But that simple purpose was still overshadowed by dark thoughts: he never went back to free his still enslaved friends, Owen and Beru had been brutally murdered by the Shock Troopers, going back to the farm meant going close to his mother's grave...

Well, this time, he would do something for the slaves. He didn't know what exactly, but he would. He promised himself that he would give the problem a good thought while at the farm, fired the engines, and entered Tatooine coordinates in the navicomputer.

Chapter Text

As the New Dawn exited hyperspace, an alarm started ringing in the cockpit as a red warning light blinked angrily, indicating a problem with the engines. When Anakin went to the engine room to ascertain the cause of the issue, he muttered a curse under his breath as dark smoke filled the place. One of the engines appeared to have overheated and parts of the weld had melted, breaking some parts along the way. He would have to replace the whole thing...He would need to land on the nearest spaceport if he didn’t want the engine to blow up. The Force would have a terrible sense of humor to make him die like this now...So he went back to the cockpit and checked on the holomap. And was appalled to be confirmed that the Force indeed had the worst sense of humor as Mos Espa appeared to be his only possible destination. 

He took a deep breath and was about to release most of his frustration into the Force when he petulantly realised he didn’t want to give the Force the pleasure of handling this calmly. The engine was fine when he departed Mortis. It was very old, yes, but he was no amateur and had made sure it was in pitch perfect condition before turning it on before assembling it to the ship. So the chances of it melting down just when it was most convenient were very slim...So yes, the Force would have it Its way, but Anakin really wanted to throw a temper tantrum.

As the thought bubbled up in his mind, he heard Qui-Gon’s voice in the back of his mind, memories of early training: “ When you feel yourself overcome by anger, just take one second to ask yourself what would come of it if you were to give in. ” Anakin sighed. He had grown pretty good at this game and, in this moment, knew that acting like an arrogant fool put in his place wasn’t going to solve anything. Outplaying the Force was the Sith everlasting objective and what good had it ever done to them ? In the last year Anakin had learned that what he needed was almost never what he wanted, so he gritted his teeth, released what he could in the Force, and set course to Mos Espa, ready to bribe his way to a decent landing pit with the man from the spaceport control who greeted him in huttese via the radio. He was pointed to a landing pit with a mechanic likely to have the parts he needed and warned that the tip alone would cost him extra wupiupi. Suns, he loathed this place...

The closer he got from the ground, the heavier his insides seemed to weigh and sooner than he’d like the sand and white domes of the spaceport under afternoon suns almost blinded him. He landed as smoothly as he could with a dying engine and killed it instantly. Resolute to spend as little time as possible in this place, Anakin pressed the gangplank open to meet the Devaronian walking toward his ship.

The mechanic was friendly enough and in awe before the New Dawn , impressed by the fact that such an antic could fly at all, pointing out that some people would pay a fortune to get their hands on it (or just straight up kill him to sell it afterward). Anakin accepted the compliment and stored in a corner of his mind the interest the ship could raise. He then gritted his teeth when the Devaronian explained that the engine Anakin needed wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow morning. Sensing his displeasure, the mechanic offered to replace it by another which could fit, but as a capricious antic, the New Dawn was quite hard to satisfy. So Anakin resigned himself to spend the night in Mos Espa. He paid for his parking fees and asked if the mechanic had any other part he could replace while he was here. The two men bartered and traded, and the Devaronian was even honest enough to point Anakin in the direction of a junk dealer who would have other parts he required and that fortunately wasn’t Watto. Anakin was definitely not ready for that .

So Anakin took a worn-out coat and scarf to both protect himself from the suns and hide his face, and braced himself for what he knew would be an unpleasant experience.

Barely two streets away from the hangar, Anakin noted that Mos Espa was still the worst place in the galaxy, from his point of view. In the early afternoon, the streets’ population was divided by half as the heat became nearly unbearable, even for the locals. Only the small alleys remained bustling, as their narrowness allowed to set shades between the buildings. The merchant district was always lively, no matter the hour. Anakin navigated the populated alleys seamlessly, his body on autopilot, as he let both his memory and the Force guide him to where he needed to go. All kinds of different species negotiated loudly in as many different languages, creating a cacophony that even the desert's winds couldn't cover. 

Wherever his eyes wandered, he saw slaves. They often didn’t wear a collar, but it took one to recognize one. As many as ever, waiting by their masters' side or running some errands. And whenever he passed by a group of slaves chatting in hushed whispers between themselves outside of the masters’ earshot, the many languages of the market gave way to Huparimar, the Dust Tongue, the thousands years old secret language of the slaves. To outsiders ears, it would sound like a strange mix of huttese and rakatan, accent placed on the wrong syllable, the words twisted to only make sense to those cursed with chains. Anakin hadn't heard it in so long, not spoken it since even longer, and it felt so strange. He had expected to feel anger and resentment when he’d inevitably hear it again, yet instead a deep sense of nostalgia took root inside him. It was his mother tongue, the one he'd learnt before even huttese, the one his mother used to lull him into sleep as a babe, the one she used to tell him stories while they worked on the same bench, the one she used to scold him when he did some mischief in their hovel…Leia's name came from the Dust Tongue, the word synonyme of both hope and moon, lighting the way in the dark. He knew the name had different meanings in other languages, but for him, there was only this one. And Leia certainly proved herself worthy of her name ! The language itself was tied to most of Anakin’s happy childhood memories, as few as they were, and to his greatest hope for the future. He would always abhor slavery but its language, he’d always hold dear. How could it all be such a contrasted mess ?

While making his way to the junk shop he turned the whole problem of slavery in his head, for the hundreth time. He knew he couldn't confront the masters face to face, no matter how badly he wanted to break every bone in their bodies. It would only cause trouble. Trouble for the slaves, who would be punished to have someone ready to defend them, and trouble for him, bringing too much attention to him, risking therefore to attract potential Sepies spies or Sith agents, or simply have the story traveled to ears that would know how to add two plus two. And it would solve nothing in the long run. How frustrating it could be, to have so much power and yet be so powerless...

So Anakin walked the busy suns-beaten streets of Mos Espa like a shadow, tormented by problems he couldn’t fix while the people around him went on with their daily life, his black coat contrasting with the pale sand but invisible to the crowd who didn’t pay him any attention. And suddenly, Anakin was overwhelmed by the same feeling he couldn’t shake on Rishi but that he could now identify: he didn’t belong. All those people around him and never before had he ever felt so disconnected from them all. Even Vader had felt more part of the universe as a whole than Anakin did in this very instant. How ironic, considering that, with the Force, there was nothing easier for him than to brush his mind against any other, let the emotions that permeated the crowd to seep into him, and let a part of him become one with any passing soul. Yet, looking at all those different people going around him, he felt like an unbreakable transparisteel wall separated him from anyone else: he could see them, but not reach them. He was a being born out of the Force itself, split his life between Its two sides and then traveled back in time, all in order to fulfil his destiny and bring balance to the Force and the galaxy...With that kind of baggage, how could he ever connect with anyone again ? Qui-Gon had said this place still held things for him but from Anakin’s point of view, Tatooine had carried on without him. 

It had let go of him.

Anakin was the one who couldn’t let go of it .

And finally Anakin started to understand what lesson he was supposed to learn this time. This place had hurted him like nothing else had, yet it still spinned around its suns without caring the least about the suffering it inflicted, unaffected by it. And Anakin wanted it to pay ! Or at least recognize the damages it did. But it wouldn’t and deep down he knew it. But he held on to this anyway, and in the end, the only thing preventing him from cutting loose the chains tying him to this place and dragging him to the ground was himself.

Realizing this, Anakin had to move aside the street to lean on a wall between two stalls. Taking a deep breath, he recognised how hard that lesson would be to actually put into action. He felt alone and cut loose, adrift without connexion to anchor him other than his complex feelings for this planet. He let his eyes wander around the square where merchants and traders took almost all the space, numbness taking over him.

A clunking sound broke his inner doldrum and many heads turned toward the young Twi’lek who was scrambling to gather all the boxes full of extrantric jewelleries he just dropped. The screams of rage of the female Weequay standing before him soon filled the square and, when she lifted her hand and the Twi’lek instinctively curled up at the movement, Anakin’s vision tunneled. The first strike fell heavily on the boy’s head in the general indifference, no one caring for the small cry coming from the ground. And as the second and third blow came without a soul to give a damn as the cries grew louder, Anakin saw red. His blood boiled in his veins, every grain of the hated sand under his feet vibrating with his anger, wind picking up as the Force reacted to his emotions burning like a hellish bonfire. 

The Weequay master raised her hand a fourth time but a strong gust of sand cut it and a painful yelp came out of her mouth. Heads turned to her all around. Masters shouldn’t be the one in pain. And the sand was not done with her. Anakin was not done with her. More gusts of sand lashed at her other hand and at her face. She tried to protect herself by putting her arms in front of her face but the ground around her turned into a quicksand and she fell on her back. People around her scrambled back with scared yells, as she tried to stand up but all she could do was scream as blood started to flow from the heavy cuts all over her body.  Her fear and her pain were coloring the Force with dark shades, sweet as velvet in their familiarity against Anakin's mind. And that was like an electrowip to him. Blinking a few times, his eyes fell on the slave boy, watching in pure horror, more afraid of his master’s pain than of her punches.

The sand fell still on the ground and the square was dead silent aside from the Weequay’s whimpers. Then a loud clamor arose as everyone started to speak or yell at the same time. Some rushed to the bleeding woman, some slaves had the courage to check on the boy, and Anakin took advantage of the chaos to quickly turn around and leave the place, feeling sick and dirty.

Not even one day. He didn’t last even one day on this blasted planet before giving into his darkest impulses.

So he hurried away from what he’d done, his mind in shambles, trusting his feet to carry him somewhere else, anywhere else.

“Wait !” came a voice behind him.

Paying it no heed, Anakin kept his hurried pace, not daring to turn around.

“Wait !” the voice repeated. “Ani !”

The fond pet name stopped him dead in his tracks. When was the last time anyone had called him that ? Ani was long dead, but the simple mention of him, loud in the deserted street, was enough to freeze him in place.

“That’s you, right ? Right, Ani ?” the man behind him asked in Huparimar.

Slowly, Anakin turned around and blue eyes met an expecting brown gaze. The tall man with short dark hair and tanned skin, about the same age he himself looked like, scrutinized Anakin’s face, searching for recognition behind Anakin’s light scruff, scarred eye and haunted gaze. And he found it, as his face brightened with a smile:

“It is you !”

Disbelief soaked Anakin’s voice as he whispered the name:

“Kitster…”

Before he could do or say anything, Kitster took the few steps separating them and pulled him into a bear hug, laughing brightly. 

At first, Anakin stood completely unresponsive. His brain had short-circuited. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had embraced him. Back during his time as a Jedi, Obi-Wan often told him to refrain from physical displays, whether they were of affection or happiness, and it had been hard for Anakin, who had grown up among a people and a culture were gentle and kind embraces were needed to counterbalance the masters’ harshness and to support each other. Luke had been the last person to touch him, but Vader's armor had nullified all senses of contact. Everyone had feared Vader so much he instantly cleared a seven foot radius of open space wherever he walked. Obi-Wan had never been a very tactile person and he wasn't close enough to other Jedi to have casual touches with them, aside from Ahsoka. Padmé had probably been the last one...So now, with Kitster holding him close against him while laughing still, sharing his happiness and an affection not lost to time, Anakin understood how deeply touch-starved he was. He was speechless as the warmth of another living being enveloped him, not only physically but also within the Force, where Kitster's feelings were like hundreds of fireflies sparkling with colors. They were spiraling around him, green for Kitster's hope to see him again one day, yellow for his joy to see his wish fulfilled, orange for his excitement at the idea of telling others of their friends…

And then he felt it. 

That connexion he had craved for just moments ago. 

Overwhelmed by it all, Anakin just closed his arms around his old friend, returning the embrace.

They stayed like this for a good minute, before Kitster pushed him back:

“Let me look at you ! When did you grow taller than me ?” 

“I was always taller than you,” was all Anakin managed to say, his mind still finding its way out of numbness, yet dumbstruck at how easily the Dust Tongue came back to him. It had been one thing to hear it, but speaking it himself...he had no name for this feeling.

“What are you doing here ? Have you been here long ? How long do you plan to stay ?” Kitster asked without giving him time to reply. “And...what just happened in the market...was that you ?”

He asked that last question without judgement, simply a frown. Still, Anakin couldn’t hold his gaze and had to turn away, shame and remorse threatening to overcome him, both at his failure to rein his impulses in and at his lack of guilt before the master’s pain. He shook his head as he said lowly:

“That should have never happened. When I saw that boy, when I felt his fear, his pain and everyone's indifference...I lost my temper. It was a mistake. She deserves it, but it was a mistake all the same.”

Kitster said nothing, just looked at him. It felt like he was trying to connect the sweet, sunny boy that left, and the haunted adult capable of commanding sand into hurting others that came back. Whatever conclusion he came to he kept for himself and instead said:

“Do you have some time ? How about I buy us some dinner and we go eat it on the rooftops like we used to ?”

“I’d...actually like that. But don’t you have places to be ?”

“No, it’s my day off. Come on.”

As he started leading Anakin away, Anakin wondered since when slaves had “day off”. He certainly never had. Unless...

“What were you doing in the square ?” Kitster asked.

“I was going for parts. My ship’s engine died and I need to replace it. The new engine must arrive tomorrow morning, but I’d like to make some modifications.”

Kitster chuckled at that:

“It’s good to see some things never change. Wanna go before dinner ?”

Kitster led the way along familiar alleys, both of them switching between Huttese and Huparimar according to whom they crossed paths with in a familiar dance.

“I can’t wait to tell the others you’re back. They’ll be so happy and…”

“Don’t !” Anakin cut a little too coldly, which earned him a baffled look. “It’s better if my presence here remains unknown. I already caused too much trouble back there. You shouldn’t even know I’m here.”

“So what, you’re going to use one of your Jedi tricks to make me forget ?” Kitster joked lightly, but Anakin replied dead serious:

“I would never do that to a slave.”

“So you can do it to me,” Kitster said with a smile, “considering I’m no longer one. You’re not the only one who flew up in the blue sky toward the suns.”

The news took Anakin aback but past his initial surprise, he realised a felt genuine happiness:

“You’ve been freed ?”

“Nope, I bought it. Thanks to you, by the way.”

Kitster laughed before Anakin dumbfounded expression and explained:

“The credits you gave me before leaving, remember ? I bought a book on etiquette with it, which helped me find a job at the Three Moons hotel, which paid for my freedom. I never thought I’d be able to thank you for that, but now I can, so thank you, Ani. I owe you a lot. Without it, I’d still be groveling under Gardula.”

Anakin tried to find the words to formulate his thoughts but, despite being perfectly fluent in a dozen different languages, couldn’t find any. Thankfully, they’d arrived at the shop so he didn’t have to stay with his mouth hanging open like an idiot. The bargaining took his mind away from Kitster’s revelation long enough for him to regain his composure. Kitster watched from a corner, a slight frown on his brow. Then they left to get some food, agreeing that they’d speak more once they’d settle to eat. They walked in a silence that Anakin felt surprisingly comfortable with. He hadn’t seen or thought about his old friend for decades, yet his presence was familiar. The only words they exchanged was to argue briefly as Anakin insisted to pay his share, but that felt familiar too, and Anakin was so confused by how easy it was to fall back in such a relaxed friendship.

Once they were seated on a domed rooftop near the slaves’ quarter row with a nice overview of the city and the suns getting closer to the horizon, Anakin asked:

“What do you think will happen to that Twi’lek kid ?”

“Don’t know. He’d probably have a few hard days before they understand he has nothing to do with it and leave him be. They’ll maybe look for a Jedi, but I doubt they’ll find one, right ?”

“I can disappear if I want to. Plus, I don’t plan on staying once my ship is fixed.”

“Oh,” Kitster simply said, turning his eyes toward the binary sunset.

His disappointment and a bit of sadness colored the Force around him, and Anakin understood that Kitster had hoped he would stay for a while.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said in a voice he hoped sounded warm, “but I can’t stay for long.”

“Yeah, I mean I should have guessed. With the war going on and all. You must be very busy.”

“I’m not going back to the war. Not now anyway.”

Kitster looked at him, puzzled.

“You don’t want people to know you’re here, you can’t stay and you don’t go back to the war ? Ani...are you...running away ? Did you desert the army ? Are people after you ?”

“I did not desert. I’m on a mission. Classified. The Jedi Council knows about it. But I can’t let anyone know where I am. It’s complicated, I’m sorry.”

“Will it help stop the war ?”

Anakin just nodded, as he couldn’t explain in detail how everything he was doing now was meant to change the galaxy. He looked at the town below them, its many domes taking the burning orange shade of sunset light. War or no war, Tatooine was still the same. Nothing else but the Hutts' whims could change it in any way. For the people living here, the Clone Wars was probably some distant mess that didn't concern them at all. They couldn't understand how important the war was, and how even more important it was to stop it and those behind it.

“Good. The war didn’t reach us here, not really. But we hear awful things about it, about what’s happening on some planets. You’ve been knee deep in it for two years, I can’t imagine how badly you want it to end.”

“Where did you hear those things ?” Anakin replied, unfazed.

“The HoloNet. S'not 'cause we live in a dumpster in the middle of nowhere that we have no idea of what's happening in the galaxy. What is it they call you ? The Hero With No Fear, right ?”

“You heard about that too ?” Anakin asked, not liking how fake the moniker felt. 

“S'not every day that a slave from Mos Espa becomes a war hero. When the slaves’ quarter row first heard your name mentioned, we tried to keep track of information about you, to be sure you were still alive. The row's rooting for you, you know.”

Anakin said nothing at that. The man they heard news about was no war hero, just a lost kid fighting in a war he thought he understood but who truly had no clue and was just trying to protect as many people as he could, regardless of the consequences…

“But I guess it’s not as easy as they make it sound on the HoloNet,” Kitster said sadly while looking at Anakin's prosthetic fingers, poking out of his fingerless gloves. 

“It could be worse,” Anakin said coldly and detached, “in so many ways, it could be a lot worse.” 

Kitster gave him a horrified look and Anakin couldn’t tell if it came from his own open disregard toward the loss of a limb or Kitster’s imagination running rampant about how exactly it could be worse. So in a poor effort to elevate the younger man’s fears, Anakin tried a warmer tone:

“Don’t worry.”

“But I do ! You know, I thought you’d get a better life when you left. With the Jedi and all.”

“And I did. I didn’t always appreciate it, but I did.”

Kitster smile pensively, but must have sensed that Anakin wasn’t going to let him cry over his fate, so he changed the subject:

“How is it, life as a Jedi ? Did Master Jinn train you ?”

“No. He died a few days after we left Tatooine. His apprentice was knighted and he took me as his padawan.”

“He died ?” Kitster exclaimed, surprised and genuinely sad. “How ?”

“Padmé's planet was illegally occupied, we had to fight to take it back. He was killed in the battle.”

“You fought in a battle days after you left ?” Kitster repeated, horrified. “But...we were kids back then.”

“Well, to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's defense, I wasn't supposed to actually fly that ship, just hide in the cockpit. But they told me to stay there. Technically, I didn't disobey...”

Kitster laughed loudly at this. 

“You know, we had a bet. With Amee, Seek, Melee and the others. About how long it would take you to jump into a ship or podracer. We had no way of getting an answer, but it was funny to guess. And now I owe Amee twenty credits.”

A soft laugh escaped Anakin’s lips.

“I'm sorry,” he said, and Kitster gave him a puzzled look.

“I always told myself that I would come back one day, and free as many as I could but...I never did. I never challenged the Council hard enough, and I let all you fend for yourselves while I could have helped. I even failed my own mother...”

“I heard about what happened to her...I’m so sorry Ani. But she never resented you or anything. Amee and I went to her wedding, you know ? She was happy and she told us that the only thing missing to make her happiness complete was you. And no other slaves in the row ever expected you to arrive with an army of Jedi to take on the masters and free us all. Not that we thought you didn't care. We just knew you probably wouldn’t be able to.”

“But I should at least have tried ! I should have done more for the slaves here, send credits, or ask for Jedi to organise an operation to undermine the slavers network in the sector. It’s not an uncommon thing for Jedi to do after all. I could have...I should have…”

“You gave credits to Jira too, remember ?” Kitster pointed out. “She used what she needed and split the rest in the row. It allowed us to buy water for the whole row during the drought the year after you left. Without it, a lot more slaves would have died. You helped us. You really did. You don’t need to come barging in with an army to break our chains in a great dramatic gesture to help us. It’s the small things that matter sometimes.”

Anakin found he had no answer to that. Just as he wouldn’t let Kitster cry over his fate, Kitster wouldn’t let him take all the misery of the planet on his shoulders. So he remained quiet for a while, watching Tatoo II disappear behind the horizon. Stars started to shine in the dimly lit sky and Anakin, out of pure habit, instinctively looked directly where he knew Coruscant would be. Where Padmé, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were, out of his reach. 

He turned back to Kitser, who was watching him, waiting for his friend to say something.

“I initially came back here to visit the Lars,” he admitted, “but I’m glad I ran into you.”

“I’m glad too. I missed my best friend, you know.”

A couple of hours after the twin suns had set, Kitster had to leave, having to get up early the next morning for work. They said goodbye, not knowing when they would see each-other again, but Anakin promised they would. He wanted to. 

Then he went back to his ship, and took his courage with two hands as he approached his holotransmiter. Taking a minute to quiet the restless beating of his heart, he placed the call. After a few beeps, the image of a man appeared:

“Lars homestead, can I help you ?”

It took a few moments for Anakin to find his voice, as the image of his step-brother looked at him expectantly, his brow frowned suspiciously.

“Hello Owen. It's Anakin.”

Instantly, Owen expression brightened:

“Anakin ! Sweet suns, I wasn't expecting that. How are you ?”

“I'm...alright. I'm on Tatooine, to be honest. And I wanted to know if...if it would be alright with you if I came to the farm. If it's no inconvenience of course !”

“Are you kidding ?! Of course you can come over. You're family, you're welcome anytime ! How long do you plan on staying ? You're spending the night, at least !”

“If it's no trouble, I really don't want to impose,” Anakin said, forcing himself not to end the call and run in the opposite direction.

“I told you, it's no trouble. I'll just be busy with the farm, but our house is your house. When will you arrive ?”

“Tomorrow ? Late afternoon ?”

“I'll tell Beru, she'll prepare the guest room.”

“I will see you both tomorrow then.”

Owen nodded with enthusiasm and Anakin ended the call, letting himself slowly slide against a wall of the New Dawn 's cockpit. It was too late to turn back now, no matter how much he wanted to. He had no idea how he was going to react when he would be at the farm. In the past, he had never tried to know the Lars better, blaming them somehow for Shmi's fate. They'd given up on her and therefore prolonged her suffering, or so he thought. If he was honest with himself, which was still an ongoing work, he was also terribly jealous: she had loved them and they had loved her, enjoying her presence while he was completely cut from her. They also had the privilege to see Luke grow up. They'd been the ones hearing his first laugh and words, seen his first steps, taught him to read and write, soothed his nightmares and shared his joys. This should have been his job ! And Padmé's ! But wasn't he entirely to blame for that ? How could he possibly resent those people for loving and caring for his son ? They'd keep him away from the mess that was the galaxy for nineteen years which was, considering the records of this family’s other members, quite an impressive record. Owen and Beru had protected Luke the best they could, raised him the best they could, and allowed him to become the amazing man he was. The least he could do was to thank them, even if they wouldn't know what he was thanking them for.

He landed at some distance, the dome of the house’s entrance like a milestone in the flat endlessness of the desert. Anakin took a deep breath before lowering the gangplank. His stomach was tied into knots and his knees weren't at their most steady, so his first steps out of his ship felt like he was back on Mortis after his return. But two figures were getting out of the house to meet him, so he put on a strong face and went to meet them. 

Owen and Beru hadn't changed much in the two years since their last meeting. Owen had grown a beard and Beru's hair was a shade darker maybe. But both of them were emitting waves of happiness and welcome in the Force, which made it easier for Anakin as he came before them.

“It's good to see you,” Owen said, offering his hand for Anakin to shake. “With the war going on and Jedi running around everywhere, we didn't expect you to visit, for sure. But it's a nice surprise.”

Anakin shoke Owen's hand, whose eyes grew wider at the sight of his prosthetic.

“When did that happen ?” he said in a gruff voice.

“About three days after I was last here,” Anakin replied honestly. “Don't worry, I have learned better since.”

Owen was smart enough to recognise when a subject was best avoided, so said instead:

“You remember Beru, right ?”

“I do,” Anakin said with a smile he hoped looked natural, but by the time he shoke Beru's hand it had become so, as her warmth was genuine and infectious.

“Come inside, I prepared dinner,” she said, leading the way back into the home as the first sun had just set. 

The house hadn't changed either, and the few plants born of the hydroponic garden added a much very welcome touch of green. 

“I'll show you the guest room,” Beru said. “You can put your bag there before dinner.”

The room was small but comfy, the bed made with clean sheets, the smell of the laundry soap giving a flowery feeling. Anakin put his bag in a corner, and joined his step-brother and sister-in-law at their table.

“Cliegg won't be joining us ?” he asked, a little surprised.

Owen face's dropped a bit at this:

“My father passed away, a few months after you came. His leg never properly healed and...he never recovered from mom's death.”

Anakin didn't quite like the feeling that rose in him hearing Owen calling Shmi “mom” but silenced it.

“I'm sorry,” he said, genuinely empathetic toward Owen's loss. “It mustn't have been easy, losing them both in such a short time...”

“It wasn't. But...life goes on. It has to. Beru and I got married, we took over the farm, and it keeps us busy. It's a simple life, but it's the one we have. It could be worse, so we've gotta be grateful for it.”

“I admire your strength...” Anakin said, thoughtful.

“Strength ? It's more like...just having to put one foot in front of the other. It's the only way you move on,” Owen shrugged.

“It is strength, believe me. I never manage to do that. Moving on, I mean. I didn't get over mom's death. Still haven't,” Anakin countered, his eyes on the table.

“In many ways, it was harder for you than for us,” Beru said, her voice gentle and soft.

“They haven't given you the time to mourn ?” Owen asked. “The Jedi, I mean. You said you lost your arm like three days after mom's death. That was the Battle of Geonosis, right ? You were sent there, even if you've had a death in your family ?”

“The Jedi don't think of death the same way most people do. We mourn our losses, of course, but we are taught to let go and death being the return to the Cosmic Force is not a bad thing. We don’t form attachments. I was never good at this. But as far as Geonosis is concerned, I was already on the planet before the battle started.”

He explained to them what happened exactly, from the moment Padmé and him left the farm to the battle itself. They listened to him with shaken expressions. They hadn't known Padmé was a senator on the run from assassination attempts when they met her, and clearly the fact that she and he had been tied-up to poles while wild animals were trying to kill them for the entretainement of the locals left them both shocked and digusted. 

“Has she been okay since ?” Beru asked. “She was so nice, I hope she's alright now.”

“She is. She's fighting in the Senate to find a peaceful solution to the conflict, but she doesn't hesitate to put her blaster to good use, when needs be.”

“A peaceful resolution ?” Owen repeated. “Well, I appreciate her idealism, but it seems unlikely.”

“Maybe, but to me it seems important that there are senators like her who at least try. It means not everyone is out for violence,” Beru said, putting her hand on her husband's.

Anakin smiled at that. Beru and Padmé must have gotten along perfectly.

“Well, as long as this all comes to an end, it's all the better,” Owen said. “I'm aware there's a lot I don't know about this war, but it all sounds messed up to me. If planets want out of the Republic they should just leave them be.”

“It's a little more complicated than that,” Anakin observed. “There is mainly the problem of the ressources, the gain or loss of influence, all tied with access to hyperlanes and who control them...it all impacts billions of people.”

“Well, call me selfish if he you want, but from where I stand, all I see on the HoloNet is that my brother is constantly send on the frontlines of a war many people understand nothing about, and I'm left to wonder if the next time I hear your name it's to find out your ship's been blown up or a battle droid put a blaster bolt in your back. We've had enough deaths in this family lately, I don't want to add one more !”

Anakin was speechless. Owen had called him his brother. Anakin had learned he had a step-brother in the middle of one of the most traumatic experiences of his life and then had never seen him again. He never had the time to come to see him as a brother, and he never made any effort to get to know him better or get closer, something that could have encouraged him to see Owen as “his brother”. But it sounded so natural in Owen's mouth. He included Anakin as an integral part of his family without thinking twice about it. And he was therefore very protective of him, it would appear. So all Anakin managed to said was:

“I don't die that easily. Believe me, many have tried, and I'm still here. Maybe not in one piece but...it takes a lot to get rid of me.”

“I know you're trying to make me feel better,” Owen said. “But I can't help it. The Jedi took you away from mom, and now they're putting you in danger.”

“Mom willingly agreed to let me go. Qui-Gon never ripped me from her arms, Jedi aren't children-snatchers. She believed it was best for me. And as for the war now, I choose to put myself in danger of my own choice.”

“But you didn't choose this war,” Owen replied, his temper rising.

“No Jedi did,” Anakin replied, calmer than he thought he could manage. “We serve the Republic and therefore the Senate, and the Senate ordered us to fight, so we did. The Jedi were all drafted into this. Refusing would have been turning our backs and abandoning those who cannot defend themselves.”

“Why are you here alone on Tatooine then ?” Owen asked.

After a moment of silence during which Owen and Beru watched him, both worried and curious, he said:

“Something happened to me. It has shaken me more than I can put it into words...My entire world has been shaken out of balance and I need tethers not to go adrift. Whether I like it or not, I need to reconnect with my roots and work through them. Only then will I be able to stop this war.”

“There are plenty of people fighting in this war, so don't pressure yourself like this,” Beru said. “It's not like it's your burden to carry alone.”

Anakin looked at her and let his mind brush against hers. She was worried about him, thinking he was pushing himself too hard, and she was trying hard to make him feel lighter. This kindness seemed to be deeply rooted in her nature. Brushing his mind against Owen's, he got confirmation of Owen's fierce protectiveness of his family, his desire to keep Anakin away from the war. A wish he couldn't fulfill. And that discussion was turning into a fight he didn't want to have. Butting heads wasn't the best start if he was to reconnect with them. 

So, in an effort that couldn't go unnoticed, he changed the subject:

“You will need help with the farm tomorrow ? I'm good with machinery if you want an extra pair of hands.”

Owen’s mind obviously followed the same logic Anakin's did, as he answered:

“You know how to repair an evaporator ? One of our oldest broke down two days ago, and we're not sure yet if we'll have to replace it.”

“Sure, child's play.”

“Mom used to tell us about how machines are food and drink to you...”

Once again, that feeling at Owen's mention of “mom”. But Anakin brushed it aside again, and dinner was spend talking about harmless matter such as building racing pod, what Anakin could fix or improve in the house if he had time...By the time they call it a night and went to bed, Anakin was pleased to say it had been a pleasant evening. While he was lying awake in his bed, he thought back on how there'd hardly be any awkward silences and, despite all the things he had to hide, they had things to talk about. They'd avoided speaking too much about Shmi as both Owen and Beru had realized soon that it still was a very hard topic for Anakin. But the Force was agitated, restless, like it was waiting for something. Anakin wished it would stop its jittering and just let him sleep. As if the Force had felt his wish, it grew quieter, and Anakin quickly fell into dreamless slumber.

But the Force came back with a revenge next morning, as Owen knocked on his door to call him for breakfast. As he rose and dressed up, he felt more and more as if the Force was a tensed bowstring and himself the arrow notched to it. The impression he was about to be shot forward at any moment was not exactly a comfortable one. So he went to the kitchen with his nerves on edge. He greeted Owen and Beru, ate fast, and followed his step-brother to the broken evaporator. They spend the whole morning together, under the harsh suns, while Anakin worked his way through the poor thing. If he had to guess, he'd say the machine was about thirty years old and counting, which Owen confirmed. Luckily, turning old into brand new had lately become kind of a speciality. He went back to the New Dawn for parts then proceeded to bring the evaporator back to life, explaining to Owen how he could maintain it all, how he could spare energy by changing the wiring, gain in productivity if he added some components Anakin could built...Owen was impressed and welcomed any ideas to make the old thing last as long as possible. When Anakin was quiet, Owen told him about his childhood, how his father had raised him in the respect of hard-work, how he barely remembered his mother, how Shmi had quickly taken on this role, how he knew there was a whole galaxy above him, but rather focused on his job here rather than chased impossible dreams. Anakin told him that impossible dreams had kept him alive as a child, and Owen admitted without shame that if anyone had the right to have impossible dreams it was the slaves, for it was as important as water to them. At that, Anakin found himself respecting Owen more and more. By midday, they walked back into the welcome shade of the house, dripping sweat but glad to be done with it, coming to appreciate a better understanding of each-other. It wasn't much, but it was a start. 

The afternoon, Beru asked for his help for a special project. She explained to him that her family, along with the Darklighters, helped runaway slaves into reaching either Anchorhead or the Motesta Oasis, where the underground network of anti-slavery fighters her parents had helped create years ago kept caches of supplies to help the slaves escape the planet or cross the desert. Anakin's eyes almost went out of their sockets as she told him that. She told him she helped prepare such supplies once a month with money given by the network, then Owen and her went to hide them in designated locations. So she thought he would be interested in helping her. Of course, Anakin accepted before she even finished speaking. 

When he asked her about her reasons for doing something like this, she told him her parents had always been against slavery, and had joined a group of other farmer’s families who tried to make a difference for the slaves. They'd raised her as part of the movement, and she told him stories of eight-years-old her passing messages between different networks right under the Hutt’s nose. When she started to date Owen, Shmi used to be the one helping her make the bags of supplies, but now that she was gone, and with Owen busy with the farm, it was harder, and took longer, but she refused to give up. Anakin decided at that moment that if anyone ever tried to harm Beru Whitesun in any way, he would personally raise all Sith Hell against them. He told her so, and she laughed.

Helping her, he was glad to rediscover skills he thought forgotten, such as sewing. His fingers were a little clumsy at first, but it was like lightsabers and kata: the memory of the dexterity was there, he just had to keep going. After a few weak attempts, his patching was perfect. Growing up a slave with only two sets of clothes at best, he had learned very young how to make them last. He suddenly remembered Obi-Wan's incredulous delight during their first years together each time he patched up pieces of clothes Obi-Wan had thought lost. The memory was bittersweet, as he was still working on untangling his feelings toward Obi-Wan. 

They ended up talking about Padmé. Beru asked about her planet, her work as queen then senator, her thought on slavery...Once Anakin started talking about her, words couldn't stop falling from his mouth. He told Beru how she saved her planet at fourteen years old, how she daily opposed any bills that might escalate the war, how brave she was on the battlefield, either it was an actual one or the Senate stage. He couldn't hide the love that was dripping from his every word, so he didn't bother to try. Beru looked at him with a knowing smile, and listened as he described the love of his life. She didn't comment on how she perfectly read between the lines, only to say that his feelings were his own. She offered no judgement, which was refreshing beyond words.

The day flew by, and once more Anakin was surprised to notice he'd had a good day. These people were simple yet complex, caring and steadfast, caring nothing about power. They were simply asking to know him, and trying to make him feel welcome. Which was more than most Jedi ever did. So this day could have been a peaceful and relaxing one, if the Force wasn't dancing and jumping on his nerves. He'd been jumpy all day, his mind going off tracks often enough for Owen to ask him if everything was alright. The arrow hadn't been set loose yet, and the string shivered under the pressure of the hold. Anakin had the feeling its release would be bloody, for him mostly, as he came to understand what the Force wanted from him.

During dinner, he didn't even realize he was tapping his mechanical fingers against the table in an irregular rhythm until Beru gently put her hand on his. 

“What ?” Anakin asked, feeling he'd miss a part of the conversation.

“You okay ?” Owen asked again. “You've looked...tense all day.”

“Yes, it's nothing.”

Owen gave him a typical “no-bulshit-taken” look, and Anakin knew he'd have to do better. Surprisingly enough, it would have pissed the heck out of him before, to have to justify himself like this, but now it was only mere irritation. He was making progress !

“It's the Force. It's been...overbearing today. Quite annoying.”

Had he started speaking Sith, it would have been the same. They didn't understand, at all. So he tried to make it simpler:

“When you connect with the Force, you can feel much more than a regular person. You can feel other people's emotions, it amplifies your own, you get extremely good reflexes as the Force allows us to see everything shortly before it happens...The Force has a will of its own, and we can feel it more or less strongly, depending on how hard the Force is trying to tell us something. And today it's been all but screaming in my ears. It tends to be difficult to concentrate when it does that.”

“That's what allowed you to pilot in the pod-races as a kid, right ?” Beru guessed.

Anakin nodded.

“Seems hard to imagine for simple folks,” Owen admitted.

“I know. It's...like having a very loud radio emitting hundreds of channels at the same time.”

Owen made a face at that:

“Sounds bloody awful !”

“As Jedi, we learn to listen, sort out and quiet all those channels. It has always been harder for me, because I can hear thousands more channels than other Jedi.”

“And what does this force want from you to be so pressing ?”

“It wants me to go see mom...” Anakin said in a low voice.

“Then you should go,” Owen said with a voice nicer than anything Anakin had heard from him. 

Yes, he should go. He should...But his body suddenly weighed more than a starcruiser. He managed to get up and, before he started walking away, he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and left it on the table. It felt better to leave it here...

Night had fallen, and the sky was perfectly clear. The three moons were high and bright, enveloping the desert in a beautiful silver light. Impenetrable darkness was a thing unheard of on Tatooine, as too thin and sparse clouds couldn't hide two suns and three moons. There was always light on Tatooine, an irony that only now made its way into Anakin's mind and, had he not been on his way to his mother's grave, he would have let out a bitter laugh. But he was in no laughing mood. With each step another bar of neuranium dropped on his heart and tied itself around his ankles. 

When he finally arrived before the gravestone, he yielded under their accumulated weight and fell on his knees, just like he had during her funerals. 

He had been broken then, and he was broken now. She alone had ever been able to guide him to be the best version of himself, and the moment she disappeared from his life, he gave ground to the shadows. Now she was resting underneath the sand which always spoiled everything, forever gone, blind and deaf to his agony. He talked to her anyway.

“Hi mom. I'm sorry it took me so long to come. I...”

Say it, he told himself. Let it all out, once and for all. Admit it !

“I was afraid. Afraid that it would make your death final. It would force me to accept that I failed you. Again. I didn't keep my promise. I left you alone here. I let your death lead me down a dark path...And I was ashamed because that's not how you raised me ! You raised me to be kind and selfless, to ignore greed and instead give the little I had. I failed you ! I was selfish and cruel ! I sought out power, and destroyed everything in my path without caring about it ! Force, I enslaved people ! You would despise me, and I shouldn't even have the right to call myself your son !”

Air was leaving his lunges as he spoke, not stopping to fill them again, not feeling like he deserved it. The more he spoke the worse he felt. Unable to even look at the gravestone, he kept his eyes firmly on his own knees, and his vision blurred as tears ran unchecked on his face.

“Oh mom, what have I become ?! What have I done ?!”

Closing his hands around the hated sand, he squeezed as hard as he could, grains tearing at his flesh. He couldn't even register this pain, numb as he had become to it, the physical one never able to reach the agonising level of the psychological one, like burning needles piercing his heart, as numerous as the stars in the sky. Why couldn't the Force bring him back just a few years earlier ? He could have saved his mother then. But no, it had to send him back in the past at a time where there was nothing to be done about it anymore. And maybe there was a lesson in this. But Anakin didn't want a lesson ! Like a lost child, he simply wanted his mother ! In this very moment he would give anything to see her again, to hold her again...

At this thought, Anakin had to bite down on his prosthetic hand hard as he repressed a furious scream. He had learnt nothing ! Twenty-three years of darkness, of mass murder and genocide, of manipulations by Sidious and regrets as heavy as his life-suit, and here he was, falling into the same kriffing trap all over again ! The Force literally had to throw him back into time so he could clear up his mess, and his first instinct was to do exactly the same ! Shmi didn't deserve to die like this, but she didn't deserve a waste of a son either.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Anakin ?” Owen's concerned voice came to his ears.

“Leave me alone,” he responded without looking at him.

“The ground shook. Are you okay ?”

The ground shook ? What the...Anakin looked down and, all around him, could see small cracks that weren't there before. Anakin's breath caught in his throat. He'd lost control again. He could have done real damages to the house underneath. He could have broken his mother's gravestone and opened her grave. Hiding his face between his hands, he said with a broken voice:

“I'm sorry, I should have been more careful. It won't happen again.”

“Wait, you mean...you did it ?”

“Just leave, please,” he begged.

Owen seemed to ponder this option, but instead said:

“You know it's dangerous at night. You should come back inside.”

“No. I'm not leaving her yet,” Anakin refused firmly.

“She'll still be here in the morning.”

Anakin's head shot up and he sent Owen a murderous glare. 

“It took me long enough to get here. And how can you speak about her like that ?!”

“You cannot change the fact that she's dead anymore than you could have prevented her death !” Owen said, unflinching.

“But that’s the whole point: I could have !” Anakin yelled back.

And the arrow was released, shooting toward the horizon with the raging fury of a volcano, burning everything inside Anakin.

“I could have ! I felt her pain, even on the other side of the galaxy. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. For weeks, her misery reached me across the Force, and if I only reacted sooner, I could have saved her ! If I had arrived in time, she wouldn't have died. It's my fault ! And yours ! You gave up on her ! How could you even do that, while claiming you loved her ? She needed you and you all just turned away.”

Owen said nothing while Anakin unloaded his heart on him, his face shut and unreadable. He waited for Anakin to finish, his breath short and eyes accusing. At first he did and said nothing. Then, he sat close beside Anakin.

“You're right,” he finally said with sadness. “She needed us. But we did the best we could. We sent men, and almost all of them got killed. We asked for help but, once the first expedition was decimated, no one wanted to risk it. And be rational ! After a month in Tisken's hand, the chances she was still alive were too slim. The truth is, no matter how much I regret my helplessness at the time, we tried all we could and it changed nothing. I had to accept that. It's a harsh truth but one you'll have to accept too, Anakin: you cannot save everyone ! You cannot control everything ! Life doesn't work that way ! Some things you can change, others are just meant to be. If you always try to make things go your way, you'll gain nothing but hurt.”

“So I should just accept that her death was unfair and be fine with it ? Accept that she deserved thousands times more than that ? Accept that I just failed her ?”

“If you want to heal, yes !” Owen said, turning to him, almost angry. “Banging your head against the wall won't change what happened. I loved her, you cannot tell me I didn't ! But there was nothing I could do, and even if it hurt, it’s normal ! So I cried and mourned, and kept living on knowing she wouldn't want me to burn the candle by both ends because of her !”

Anakin was about to reply but Owen didn’t gave him time:

“I don't know what it's like to have the Force, and powers, and do things most people cannot, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't make you Jedi gods either. You're not all powerful, and you shouldn't want to be. Try your best, be happy when you succeed, and accept it when you fail. Use your failure to do better next time. Life won't ask for your opinion.”

Anakin, at forty-seven years old, felt scolded like a child. And Owen must have guessed he went a bit hard, because his next words were much kinder:

“I lost two mothers. I know how this works. So...just keep the happy memories of mom close, let it be a source of joy, know that more than anything she would want you to be happy, and live your life.” 

They stay silent for a moment, both lost in thoughts.

“Look, I understand your anger,” Owen said. “I know it's justified but...just don't let it eat you up.”

“It's a bit late for that,” Anakin said darkly.

“I know.” 

Anakin turned his head toward him, questioning. 

“Tatooine's not very populated, so whatever happens ends up in the gossip windmill sooner or later. And the Jawas talked about a Tusken camp destroyed in one night and how the other clans don't dare going there anymore. Knowing when it happened, approximately, it's not hard to draw conclusions,” Owen explained.

Anakin said nothing, so Owen asked in a voice devoid of any judgement:

“You killed them all, right ?”

Anakin looked at the ground again and nodded once, unable to do more.

“Good !” Owen said, vindictive.

Anakin's head shot up again:

“No, not good ! I let grief and anger blind me. What I did was wrong. They hurt mom but it didn't justify slaughtering the innocents.”

“They let mom be tortured. They weren't innocent !”

“That's exactly what I told myself to justify my actions. That they were animals, not sentients. That they had it coming. But it’s all lies. I knew it back then already, I shouldn't have done that. Because it's genocide ! And because it opened a path for me that should have always remained close, especially for a Jedi ! Each kill makes the next one so much easier...”

“You did mom justice.”

“It was no justice. It was a terrible mistake. One I never really paid for, and that was the first of many.”

“So you can accept that killing the Tuskens who killed mom was a mistake but you cannot accept mom's death ?” Owen asked, genuinely puzzled. “I don't understand you...”

“If it makes you feel better, for a few years I barely understand myself.”

They sat together in silence for long minutes after that, before Anakin had to courage to admit:

“I wanted to hate you so badly. You had the chance to have mom with you when I was systems away. You saw her free and happy...I was so jealous, I wanted you to be horrible persons so I could hate you without remorse...But you're not. Horrible. I'm glad she had you, that you found each-other...”

Owen  looked first surprised then moved by the confession. He then put his hand on the nape of Anakin's neck in an affectionate gesture:

“And now we have found each-other as well,” he said. “Come, it's late and being out there in the open at night is top-notch bad idea. Let's go home, little brother.”

The Force sang happily when Owen called him little brother. And Anakin was stunned to hear it. It was so intimate, so warm, and it was spreading into the Force. The only person who ever made him feel this selfless brotherly affection was Obi-Wan, and he suddenly missed him terribly. So Anakin was on autopilot as he followed Owen back inside the homestead. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he was pulled by that love he had always desperately needed.

Anakin ended up spending a whole week with Owen and Beru. That conversation with his step-brother had broken a dam inside him and, instead of focusing on his hatred for the planet, he focused on his growing affection for this newfound family. 

He helped them with the farm and the chores, with the supplies to the runaway slaves, which they went to hide all together, and they gave him time to perform his daily meditation session and katas. The first time he meditated, he sat on his bedroom's floor, but as soon as he let his consciousness drift into the Force, the call of the planet was so strong he had to get out. After that he sat on the top of the entrance's dome. From there, he let the sun heat up his skin while he tried to figure out what was calling out to him and from where. He didn't succeed in five days, but he would come back. He instead discovered the planet's feel and energy, and wasn't surprised to find it the same as in his visions. 

He'd perform his kata early in the morning when the suns were still barely showing on the horizon. Owen and Beru had watched him the first time, Owen losing interest soon in profit of farm work, while Beru enjoyed watching him every morning, entranced by the moves. 

So, when Anakin said his goodbyes, half of him was surprised to see himself ask if he could visit again. Owen and Beru agreed instantly, and Anakin had to explain that, due to the time difference between where he lived and Tatooine, it would feel like soon for them but long for him, and apologized. They were confused by the whole “time works differently” but agreed all the same. Owen called him little brother and patted his shoulder firmly, while Beru hugged him gently. 

As the New Dawn left the atmosphere and Anakin entered Mortis' coordinates in the navicomputer, he started to understand why the Father and Qui-Gon had been so set on sending him to Tatooine. He still hated being wrong, but the past week felt too good in his mind for him to find the strength to be angry about it.

Chapter Text

The lush forests sprawled as far as the eye could see at the feet of Castle Serenno, in an endless sea of green shifting at the whim of the wind blowing atop the trees. The beauty of the scenery was completely lost on Count Dooku, who stood unmoving by his window, his mind far away from the canopy rolling like waves in a serene dance. 

He had just received the last report from his spies in Hutt-Space and to say that Count Dooku was displeased was far from the truth. He was enraged. Not a single one of them had managed to find the barest trace of Skywalker. For over a month now, the Count had deployed a great many means to find the young Jedi, at the urging of his Master Sidious, yet the infuriating boy had escaped all of Dooku’s nets, slithering between the meshes like some clever eel. Uncharacteristically discreet, from Dooku’s point of view. That wretched boy was usually easy to follow thanks to the trail of explosions he left behind. So when Sidious had asked him to find the young fool while he was operating undercover for a deeply classified mission, Dooku had all but laughed and waved it off as a formality. That idiot couldn’t recognize stealth if it was slapping him in the face with his own lightsaber, after all. And now, weeks after, Dooku was empty handed and Sidious out of patience. 

His master was waiting for his own report, but Dooku was in no hurry to give it. He had to think carefully about what he was going to say. There were so many times Sidious could tolerate failure, and Dooku feared he would come at the end of this particular rope way too soon. He needed more agents to widen the search to the Outer-Rim...Bait. He needed bait. An idea started to form in his mind. Skywalker was a being of impulse and feeling, poorly suited to the Jedi lifestyle, so Dooku would play on this and lure him out of hiding by striking where it would hurt the most. 

Collecting his thoughts, Dooku turned from the soothing elegance of his homeworld’s nature to face the perfectly polished metal of his holotransmitter, wave his hand to activate it, and waited for his master to pick up the call. When the hooded figure of Darth Sidious looked down on him, Dooku respectfully fell on one knee:

“I am at your bidding, my lord,” he said with deference. 

“I hope you bring me more this time, Lord Tyrannus,” Sidious barked, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Have you found anything about Skywalker ?”

“Nothing, my lord,” Dooku replied without wavering, determined not to let his master’s anger throw him off. “I must admit, I never thought that boy would be able to hide so well. No doubt he has help, for I cannot imagine him capable of such discretion.”

“Then maybe you should reevaluate what you can and cannot imagine him to be, for your own lack of imagination has allowed him to escape you long enough,” Sidious bit back. “But I would give you this, I had not foreseen such a talent for evasion from him. It is most unexpected…”

Dooku stayed silent while Sidious seemed to lose himself in his own train of thought, waiting to see if his master had anything more to say. As moments passed and Sidious remained deep in thought, Dooku dared:

“If I may, my lord…”

“Yes ?”

“I could obtain better results if I had more agents to send in search of information. Or better ones…”

Dooku still held some resentment over his forced dismissal of Ventress and tried to shield it. He knew she would have gotten results, she was good enough for that. Too good...It had been her death warrant. By Sidious. Who now looked at him with an all too knowing smile. 

“You have all that we can spare, Tyrannus. But I sense you are not out of tricks, aren’t you ?”

So, Sidious wasn’t too angry at him. Good, Dooku could work with that. 

“ Skywalker has shown us that he too has many tricks up his sleeve. But, even if we failed to account for this...side of his personality, we know the rest of him well enough. If we cannot find the hole he has buried himself into, then we must smoke him out.”

“And how do you propose we do that ?” Sidious asked, intrigued.

“Skywalker has proved to be at his least rational when the people he cares about are concerned. If Kenobi or that pesky Togruta of his were to be...endangered, he will certainly show his face. We could then capture him…”

“Not capture him,” Sidious cut.

“No ?” Dooku asked, surprised and at loss. “You don’t want to…”

“I want you to find him, and keep a close eye on him. I have specific plans for him and while his capture isn’t necessary, his location and current occupations are vitals.”

Sidious stayed quiet for a moment and Dooku dared not interrupt as he could almost see the gears turning in his master’s mind.

“I have wanted to bring my homeworld back into the fold for a time now, and we could kill two birds with one stone. Here’s what you are going to do, Tyrannus.”

***

Anakin was savouring evening tea with his mentors, watching the sun set on Mortis. They had not been shy with their questions ever since he returned from Tatooine, and his answers seemed to please them greatly. He had told them all that had happened and, Qui-Gon especially, looked relieved that so little went wrong while so much progress had been made. 

“You plan to go back ?” Qui-Gon repeated, not sure he heard that right.

“I do.” Anakin replied. “To my own surprise. I still don’t like the place, but the people there...I realised I need them. Owen, Beru, Kitster...I need them to move on. My mother was right all along: I can’t stop the change. Yet that’s all I have been trying to do. Out of fear. I got stuck in time and it caused suffering to myself and all around me. I need them to push me out of that place out of time. Even if, considering my very specific circonstances, it’s nothing but very ironic…”

He actually smiled at that, and Qui-Gon added:

“You mean the fact that you are a time-traveler spending most of his time on a planet where time itself is different than in the rest of the galaxy ?”

“As I said, ironic ! Plus, there is something on Tatooine. I don’t know what, but it’s calling out to me…”

He drank from his cup, letting his gaze embrace the tranquil beauty of the planet before him. The setting sun was casting long shadows and a gentle wind was rustling the top of the trees and Anakin couldn’t get enough of the gorgeous colors of the moving leaves. He felt the eyes of both his teachers on him, and their satisfaction in the Force.

“We are glad,” the Father said with a proud smile. “You still have a long road ahead of you, but you have taken the first most difficult steps.”

Anakin nodded. A voice in the back of his head, which sounded like a dreadful mix of Sidious’ voice and Vader’s electronic voice processor, kept telling him that no matter how much he healed, no matter how much he changed and became a better man, it would never truly erased what he did, what he had been and what truly lied in the depth of his heart: a Krayt Dragon ready to rage on. So he clang to every small progress he made, dreading for the other shoe to drop. It hasn't happened yet, but the longer the wait…

He turned from those thoughts and said:

“Now that I have a better grasp on the Force and a semblance of balance in my mind, I need to go to work. The future isn’t going to rewrite itself, after all.”

“So, you have finally laid out your plans ?” the Father asked. 

“And as promised before, I will explain it all to you. Feel free to say what you think about it, any opinion is welcome.”

“We are listening.”

Anakin finished his tea in one go and placed the empty cup on the low table. He then tore his eyes away from the night settling on Mortis like a blanket to face his mentors. 

“Sidious’ plan wasn’t his plan alone. It was Plagueis’ before him, and Plagueis’ master before, so on and so forth. We have very little time to pluck out weed with such strong and deep roots, but it doesn’t mean we are helpless. Our greatest strength lies in our knowledge and Sidious’ ignorance of it. It gives us a bigger margin than I first thought.”

Qui-Gon and the Father were fully focused on him and Anakin instantly slipped by into the role of the general laying out the strategy of attack:

“The first thing we need to do is get rid of the clones’ inhibitor chip. It can be removed, but we need to learn how to do it massively. We obviously cannot go to the Kaminoean for this. We need a scientist well-versed in neurotechnology, one that is neither working for the Republic nor the Confederacy.”

“Where could you possibly find someone fitting that description ?” the Father asked, worried.

“Nar Shaddaa,” Anakin replied immediately, which raised his mentors’ eyebrows. “The Hutt in power there, Grakkus, has a full set of artificial legs. On a Hutt, it would require a complex connexion to nerves and muscles that can only be made by a brain implant. I did some research and I found that he owns a slave named Oram Menbi, a Korun scientist who used to work for Chandrilla’s top scientist’s coalition, until he disappeared ten years ago in a pirate attack during his journey from Chandrilla to Dantooine. He is just the man I need.”

“How did you find that out ?” the Father asked, impressed.

“The HoloNet. And I might have used some of the Order’s clearance code to access some classified files. Plus some slicing. No one will ever know I was there.”

“Crafty…” Qui-Gon commented. “And how do you plan to get him ?”

“Grakkus is fascinated by everything Jedi. I have discovered that the New Dawn would be perfect bait. I will craft the identity of a bounty-hunter, and gain his trust. I need to go to Nar Shaddaa first and see what exactly I’m up against. I will have the full details after. I also will need to go to Oba Diah to free Sliman, Valorum’s former personal aide. He knows about what truly happened to Sifo Dyas and Tyrannus' true identity. We will need his testimony to bring the truth to light.”

“Hasn’t  he gone crazy due to his imprisonment ?” Qui-Gon pointed out.

“He will need help, but I think he’s not too far gone. He can still be useful. If I can bring him to a handful of politicians I trust…”

“Not to the Jedi ?” Qui-Gon questioned.

“No. The Jedi must be kept out of the loop for as long as possible. Palplatine has turned it all into a political fight, so we will adapt. The Jedi’s footing is too precarious, there are too many ways he can turn any move against him as an opportunity to strike the Jedi down, and we cannot risk it. If Palpatine is going down, it must be via the Senate first, the Jedi must come into play only as allies to the faction that will go against Palpatine, not as instigators.”

“And are there senators you would trust enough for that ?” the Father wondered.

“Of course,” Anakin said with a knowing smile. “The very senators that made Vader’s life so difficult.”

“The Delegation of 2000. The Rebellion’s leaders,” Qui-Gon understood and he smiled too.

“Including those of the Rebellion who used to be in the GAR. Having allies in the army is vital.”

“So if I understand correctly,” the Father summarized, “you want to go to the senators who would form the Delegation and present them with the truth about the Clones Army’s creation, supported by Sliman’s testimony, and the existence of the chip, aided by the scientist Oram Menbi. But how is it going to push them to go against Palpatine ?”

“I need to find the evidence that Sifo Dyas acted with Plagueis. Under his public name, Hego Damask, he funded the creation of the Clones Army. Once I have that, I have to expose the connexion between Damask and Palpatine. If I can find that, I know I can also expose Palpatine's responsibility in the Naboo Invasion, and many more of his crimes. I know I cannot come empty handed before the Delegation, but I think at least Bail Organa will trust me enough to lend his support.”

“How will you manage to find all those proofs ?”

At that Anakin sighed. He wasn’t good enough at slicing himself, and even if he had known more than Sidious had suspected about all of this, he still wasn’t sure of where to start looking.

“I don’t know yet. But I trust the Force will present a solution, once I start moving for Menbi and Sliman, at least.”

“What are you going to tell the Jedi ?” Qui-Gon asked. “They won’t let you roam free without telling them anything once you return to Coruscant, and it’s perfectly understandable.”

“I will tell them all I can, but they will need to accept and trust my better judgement on this matter for the time being.”

Both Qui-Gon and the Father opened their mouth at the same time but Anakin silenced them:

“I know my better judgement isn’t exactly reliable, and I have made my fair share of mistakes, but on this, I feel absolutely confident. And I plan on telling the whole truth to Obi-Wan, and involve Shaak Ti as much as possible. That’s already two Council members, and it will have to do, at least for the beginning.”

“What about Palpatine ?” Qui-Gon challenged again. “His attention for you will grow tenfold after you were nowhere to be found for a year. Especially if you come back as changed as you will.”

Anakin stayed silent for a moment. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t sure he could pull this particular stunt. The simple thought of having to stand in the presence of Palpatine again terrified him. He was all too aware of the incredible hold the man had on him, even now, even after everything. Palpatine was a master manipulator who had tortured him for decades, and Anakin had more than often allowed it. He knew how dependent he was on the man, how easily he still could fall prey to his silver-tongue. He hated and feared Palpatine to a visceral level, and he couldn’t stand the idea of him destroying the galaxy and everything he loved again, but it was barely enough to get away from his iron grip.

“I will need to bait him into thinking he is getting what he wants,” he said with little confidence.

“Which is you,” the Father remarked. “You want to make him think you are falling ?”

“I have to. It’s the only way to keep him distracted from our actions. I have to do as Luke did: play on his overconfidence.”

Qui-Gon and the Father exchanged a look, and Anakin couldn’t blame them.

“I know, if I can manage that or not...is yet to be revealed.”

His mentors looked at each-other again, and Qui-Gon nooded. The Father then turned to Anakin:

“Qui-Gon and I have been talking while you were away, and we agreed that it would be a good idea for you to seek out another teacher.”

Anakin couldn’t hide his surprise:

“Am I being too much to handle ? Or is it something else ?”

“We think that this new teacher could provide you with a new perspective that would be much needed to you. To find him you will need to go to the planet Atollon.”

The name instantly rang a bell in Anakin’s mind. It had been one of the Rebellion's biggest hideouts, and the site of one of Thrawn's most important defeats. 

“He is the Bendu, the one in the middle,” the Father continued, “and I think he could teach you things about the Force and about yourself that we cannot.”

Anakin tried his best to remember the reports and Thrawn’s own words to describe the being that had brought down a storm upon the Imperial Forces, and that Thrawn himself doubted to have killed successfully. The one in the middle...but it had clearly sided with the Rebellion. Anakin had been intrigued back then, and was now entirely curious.

“And I think you will need his input to succeed in the next stage of your training,” Qui-Gon added.

“The next stage ?”

“What we have done so far was merely the basics,” the Father went on. “We simply brought you back to your Padawan years, placing the seeds and nurturing the ground on which our abilities would grow like so many healthy plants. Now, it’s time to grow those seeds into burgeons.”

“What will it imply ?” Anakin wondered.

“Something you won’t like, I’m afraid,” the Father said with a creased brow.

Nothing new then…

“Can I get something more specific ?” he asked, a tad irritated.

“You said that your dislike for meditation was primarily born from your discomfort,” Qui-Gon explained. “To use your own words, you feel like a sun inside, like plugging into a supernova. Well, you will need to go beyond that sun, beyond the supernova. Get to know it, what it is, what it wants. Master it, and then you will truly be the Chosen One.”

To both his teachers’ surprise, Anakin didn’t vehemently oppose that plan. Instead, he remained silent, his thoughts drifting. Part of him knew this was coming, yet dreaded it equally. Ever since he came back from his very brief time in the Netherworld, he could feel his true power lying beyond the all-consuming energy that laid within him. All his life, he had avoided it, out of fear, out of pain...He knew he had to do it but wasn’t really sold on the idea. But, if his recent journey to Tatooine had taught him anything, what he dreaded the most was most of the time what he needed the most.

“How would this Bendu help with that ?” he ended up asking.

“I think he will know the right words to ease you into this exercise,” the Father said. 

Anakin simply nodded. 

“How do you plan to spend your time within the coming weeks ?” Qui-Gon inquired.

“I will spend a few days here, to resume my training. Then I will go to Ahakista to buy what I need to finish establishing my bounty-hunter’s identity. I need to get an inhibitor chip as well, see if I can work on it.”

“You plan on abducting a clone ?” Qui-Gon asked, a little worried.

“Nothing so rash at first. I will get it on a dead clone, see if it’s still working. Any battlefield will do. If the chip is dead too, I’ll improvise.”

“Why go to Ahakista ?”

“It’s small, of no interest to both the Republic and the CIS, it’s still on a hyperlane and a good place for business better left unheard of. Smugglers often use it as a safe port to refuel. I’ll blend in easily.”

“I would still advise you to go to Bendu before you go to Nar Shaddaa,” the Father insisted. “He will give you solid psychological ground to stand on if you feel yourself wavering on the Hutt’s moon.”

The plan was set, all that was left was to put it into action. 

Anakin spent a week resuming his daily routine, and discovering how easily it now helped him to focus and center himself within his own body and mind. He also noticed he had missed the planet. Without him realising it, Mortis had slowly taken all the shapes and feelings of home, and, if after a full year stranded on its surface, Anakin had wanted to set fire to those peaceful forests, he now couldn’t go to sleep without gazing at the sun setting upon the trees. So he revitalized himself as much as he could, enjoying what he knew would be his last days of regular training, enjoying the planet and his teachers' steady presence, then started the New Dawn ’s engines once more.

While he traveled to Ahakista, he worked on his bounty-hunter persona. While on Mortis, he had no access to the HoloNet so he had to make as much as he could before he got to Nar Shaddaa, which was little time. Luckily, he had had plenty of time to craft the persona. All he needed was a proper access to the guildes database and scatter some proofs of imaginary past jobs. That was the trickiest part: if he put too much information, then his cover would be easy to blow, not enough and he would look far too suspicious. He had to find just the right amount. And a name for the part. First he had fought about using the Lars name but he dismissed it as it could cause trouble for Owen and Beru. He had dismissed the idea to use Luke’s name as well. He would not tarnish it by associating it with bounty-hunter’s work. Nothing felt right so far, but he still had a few days to come with a brilliant idea. 

Ahakista was as he expected it to be: loud, bright with artificial lights, crowded with questionable individuals, and filled with shops all too happy to sell products that certainly didn’t arrive there legally to people who didn’t ask questions and to whom no questions were asked in return. Anakin therefore managed to equip himself with the proper apparatus for a bounty-hunter. If the notion of having to wear a helmet again left an acrid aftertaste in his mouth, he couldn’t escape it. It was the easiest way to protect his identity, and pretend he was from a species that needed a breather in an atmosphere where humans wouldn’t need one. And he liked the one he had found. It was of the simplest shape, slim and form-fitting, with small breathers on each side. It was plain, all painted in brushed silver. But its main appeal for Anakin was its visor. It covered the whole front which gave an excellent vision of his surroundings, and most importantly, it was tinted and polished in such a way it gave its outer panel the appearance of a mirror. Anyone who would look at him wouldn’t be able to guess the shape of the head underneath it and see their own face reflected right back at them. With it, Anakin would be shapeless, nameless, without identity or origins. Perfect for a ghost…

After that, Anakin spent some time in the middle of nowhere, trying to determine where he should go to get a clone’s chip. If he was bound to Atollon, then he could go to Felucia. He had checked on the HoloNet and his estimation of time had proved correct. The second battle for the planet was well-engaged, and he knew Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would be there. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss them. He wanted to see them. While on Tatooine he had tried tentatively to reach through their bounds, just to feel their presence and to know they were alright. The delicate touch of their mind against his had not been enough to warn them of his inquiry but it had been enough to ease Anakin’s mind. Now, in the middle of the endless stars, he tried his best not to reach out again. He didn’t want to be tempted. He knew he would go to Felucia just to get a glimpse of them, and by indulging in a selfish desire, would unleash catastrophe, most probably upon them. He debated with himself that just going to retrieve a chip and eavesdrop on the troopers’ channel news about his former master and Padawan wasn’t the same as actually seeking them out. Yes, he could go, just to be sure they were alright….And if they were not ? He would be tempted to go and help them, knowing full well he neither could nor should. But all in all, he said to himself, it would be a good test. One he could afford to fail...But he hadn’t failed any tests lately. Not really. But the other shoe was still waiting to drop…

Kriff it ! 

Anakin entered the coordinates to Felucia and activated the hyperdrive before he could change his mind.

Luckily for him, the war had taught him a lot, including how to avoid planetary blockade, so he had no trouble entering the atmosphere of the planet undetected. Spotting battlefields was just as easy as long gray columns of smoke still rose on the horizon, contrasting grimly with the orange colors of Felucia’s sunset. Anakin landed at a safe distance from one of those columns and donned his new bounty hunter gear. Once done, he took a minute to appreciate it: he had chosen well, as the armor was light and not as bulky as most hunters liked it. As he had rearranged the metal parts with a brushed silver finish, added to the black fabric and the symmetric lines of the breast plate, it gave off an almost formal look. The various scratches and cuts added credibility to the whole apparatus. Satisfied, Anakin tied his hair and put on the helmet. The weight of an armor on his shoulder instantly shifted his gait, and before he realised it, he exited the New Dawn with Vader’s confident stride, leaving his lightsaber behind, taking only a pair of blasters. No one, not even Ahsoka or Obi-Wan would have been able to guess it was him underneath this cold silhouette, the illusion complete. 

Anakin soon arrived at the edge of a deserted clearing, littered with destroyed battle droids and dead clones. Taking a look, he recognized the orange of the 212th and the grey of the 104th. No blue. Scanning his surroundings with both the Force and the detectors in his helmet, Anakin made sure no one was around before approaching the closest body, which laid face on the ground. When Anakin knelt and turned him to face the sky, he discovered the massive hole in the trooper’s chest from the bolt that had ended his life.  He reached out and took off the man’s helmet, adorned with the characteristic wolfhead of the Wolfpack. The trooper’s eyes were closed, no signs of pain or distress on his face. Given the position of the hole, the bolt must have taken out his heart instantly. A quick death, too quick to be painful. He got that at least. He looked almost peaceful in death, Jango Fett’s features familiar. But Anakin was pleased to see he could still notice the small differences that made each clone unique. This one had hair a shade lighter than Fives’, a nose a bit longer than Rex’s and a scar along his jaw. Anakin didn’t know him nor his name and he felt regret for that. 

He checked if the trooper’s comm was still working then lifted the body on his shoulder and carried him back to the New Dawn . As he approached his ship, a tingle in the Force warned him about a nearby presence. Securing the dead trooper on his left shoulder, he placed his right hand above the blaster in his right thigh’s holster, stopping to scan his surroundings. His instinct kept telling him to be wary of a far bush of thick trees, his helmet’s sensor scanning for heat signature. Only a few steps separated him from the New Dawn ’s gangplank yet he stood perfectly still, his only movement coming from his fingers slowly closing around the blaster’s grip, as three signatures appeared on his visor. Big, reptilian, by the shape of it. Trandoshan. 

Blast…He’d forgotten about those scums…

Despite the perfectly expressionless mirror that was his helmet’s exterior visor, Anakin turned his head so that the three hunters couldn’t doubt he was looking straight at them. He knew he was an imposing sight, especially with the fully armored dead trooper resting perfectly balanced on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Plus, he was standing right beside his fully operational ship, which blaster cannons shone in the last ray of sunlight. The lizards seemed to decide he was too troublesome a piece of game as their signatures finally moved and backed away. Anakin watched their red spots vanish from his sensor but didn’t make a move. 

Ahsoka…

Those probably were the same hunters that captured her and other padawans. If he went after them he could stop them. Prevent them from taking Ahsoka away. He could kill them off right now and Ahsoka would be safe and would never have to go through that terrible ordeal again. She would attack the Separatist’s base, win, and go back to Coruscant by Obi-Wan’s side unarmed.

He made the first step to follow them but stopped straight away.

Was this truly a good idea ?

She had survived and led others to survive as well. The other padawans needed her. Until she arrived they had been powerless to free themselves, she had been the one to inspire them and push them to find in themselves the strength to fight and find their way back home. As hard and upsetting as it had been, Ahsoka had come out of this trial a better Jedi and a better young woman. She had grown a great deal through it all, and Anakin could now recognise this hardship as one of the stepping stones of her coming of age and a piece of the bedrock of her self-confidence. 

So who was he really trying to protect here ? Her ? Or himself…

Ahsoka was strong, stronger than he’d truly been willing to admit the first time around. Just as strong as Luke, as Leia and as Padmé. He couldn’t shake that fear away, that fear that she might not pull it off this time, that she might get more heavily injured or killed if she stayed here and participated in the attack on the base. But Qui-Gon’s voice kept whispering in the back of his mind, reminding him that his overprotectiveness was a cause of problems, not a solution. Once again, he had to let go, to trust her, and to relinquish the control of the situation, which was never his to begin with. 

So he focused on their bond, and this time, let her know he was there at the other end. He felt her surprise but didn’t give her the time to dwell on it, as he sent her way a strong sense of pride and affection. Trust in your training, in your instinct and in the Force . 

He closed the bond before she could send any reply or thought, then turned and walked the gangplank inside the New Dawn , throwing away the undamaged comm unit of the clone.

As he made his way toward the medbay, he took a mental note of acquiring an astromech which could fire the engine while he had to move around heavy loads. He missed R2...He gently set down the dead clone on the examination table then went to the cockpit to enter Attalon’s coordinates. Once the blue spiral of hyperspace filled the viewports, he went back to the medbay, and proceeded to remove the trooper’s armor. Carefully. Almost reverently. He piled all the pieces away neatly, discarding the ruined breastplate, washed the clone’s hands, his face and his torso, cleaning the burns and the blood. He knew he didn’t have to do all this but couldn’t stop. Those little shows of respect and diligence were the only thanks he could give to a dead slave created in a test-tube and raised for a war they could never win. Kind of like him…

Once he was done, Anakin placed the body and asked the meddroid to perform a level 5 brain scan. As the droid worked, Anakin congratulated himself on having the foresight of buying and upgrading the best medical equipment, knowing he would have to go through this all. A cheeky grin found its way to Anakin’s lips: between its rarity, being a fully operational antic and all the top of the line upgrades he added, the New Dawn truly now worth a little fortune, one Grakkus wouldn’t be able to resist. A beep drew him out of his thoughts. The meddroid had found the chip.

Now, the hardest part began.

***

Obi-Wan's pacing was frustrating. Padmé tried her best to ignore it, and cover the sound of it with the tapping sound of her keyboard, but it was growing harder by the minute. For the past weeks, Padmé and him had grown closer, her secret being unveiled and his acceptance of it burning down the barrier that once separated them. It had been the same with Ahsoka, and Padmé couldn't express how happy she was at that. She had always been very fond of the young Togruta, and their new degree of friendship felt a lot like having a little sister. Obi-Wan had been glad to see them bond so, giving them time away from the Temple, during which Padmé would teach her about politics, how to navigate the complex law system, and how to make proper arguments. She was skilled in that, but she learnt it all more for the functionnal side of it more than actual liking of the subject, which Padmé didn't mind. At least, Ahsoka would be able to keep up with Obi-Wan. Anakin had never cared much for politics either, even if he always listened to her as she talked about her day, her work and her problems with it. Ahsoka and him were a lot alike on this. To have Obi-Wan closer was refreshing on that matter. 

So when Obi-Wan had come to her office when he returned from Felucia, she hoped she would be able to talk with him about the growing overbearing of the Banking Clan. But when he told her that Ahsoka was reported missing in action, her joy flew by the window in seconds. It had been days now, and she had even pulled a few favors to be sure to get any words from the Jedi Padawan. She knew the GAR was using all its resources, and sadly, the only thing left to do was to wait. Something Obi-Wan wasn't so good at, she found out, a little surprised.  She didn't mind him visiting her at her office in the Senate building, but if he carried on as such as he was now, he would dig a furrow in her carpet.

She stopped her typing and looked up to her friend:

“Wearing your sole out on my floor won't bring her back quicker,” she said.

“I know,” he said while keeping on walking.

“Surely you have other duties to attend to.”

That made him pause, and he turned to her:

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a burden. I will go and...”

“Your presence doesn't bother me. And don't mistake my calm for what it's not, I haven't slept at all for two nights, worrying sick about her. If I had any intel on where she is, I'd jump on a ship with a good blaster right now and bring her home. But it's impossible. We did everything we could, the rest is on her now. She's strong, and no one has her kind of determination, except for Anakin. She'll make it.”

Obi-Wan looked at her for a long moment, then said with a smile:

“You would make a remarkable Jedi, do you know that ?”

“I would be terrible at it. I get attached way too easily.”

“I would be lying if I said I don't struggle with the same problem. But recent...developments had me wondering if the real issue is not our attachments, but the way we deal with them.”

It was an interesting take. 

“I'm also kind of terrified that Anakin is going to kill me when he finds out about it,” Obi-Wan confessed, both ashamed and a little amused.

“Maybe he already knows,” she noticed.

“What do you mean ?”

Padmé sat back in her chair and said pensively:

“Maybe this also happened in his future. If so, she must have overcome it, because you said that he was prouder of her than ever.”

As she said so, at first more to reassure them both than because she actually believed it, she found truth in the statement. 

Obi-Wan comlink beeped and he took the call:

“Yes Cody ?”

“General, we intercepted a signal. We found Commander Tano. A team is already on its way to collect her.”

They both sighed of relief, and exchanged a look, Padmé's clearly meaning “I told you so”.

“That is great news, Cody, thanks for the update.”

After cutting the channel, he let the stress of the last days flow out of him, releasing within the Force what he couldn't before. He should be used to it by now. After Anakin, and now Ahsoka...All he could do was look at Padmé happily and say:

“Force...they grow up so fast...”

Ahsoka watched Coruscant slowly invade the viewports of the shuttle bringing her back home. Despite their absolute craving for a glimpse of their planet during their journey, exhaustion had finally overcome Jinx and O-Mer, who were now fast asleep next to her. They needed their rest so much she didn’t try to wake them up, knowing they wouldn’t mind. Instead, she focused on the planet growing closer. She saw it without actually seeing it, her mind somewhere else entirely. She had been in this state of half-presence all the way back, taking care of her companions, answering the clone’s questions, exchanging relieved smiles with Chewbacca, but her mind wandered off every time she was still. She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t washed out the grim and dust. She just sat there, questioning, mourning. She had been unable to save Kalifa, but she had saved the rest of them. One life lost, four preserved. She wondered what she had done wrong, what she could have done better, to save them all. But every time she asked herself that, she also reminded herself that what was done couldn’t be changed, that she had tried her best and hammering herself with what ifs wouldn’t bring Kalifa back. Her friend was dead, but the rest of them had survived and that was what mattered the most. She could already hear Obi-Wan’s voice telling her that Anakin’s stubbornness was rubbing off on her. It was true. Her master always tried to save everyone and was always left a little more damaged when he failed to do so. Because saving everyone every time was simply not possible. As a Jedi, she had to recognize and accept that. 

But without Anakin, she would have died on that moon, of that she was sure. His training, his lessons, his endless hope that things can be fixed if you just put the right amount of effort and ingenuity into it...And his faith in her. Of that she no longer had any doubt. She had felt his presence in her mind right before the attack on the Separatist base, before she was abducted. He had encouraged her to follow her instinct and to trust herself and the Force. He had gone just as fast as he had arrived, but had left a strong footprint in the inner sanctum of her mental defenses, where only her and him could go. The timing, the message...it all fitted so well she couldn’t help but wonder if it had all happened in Anakin’s past as well, and that if so, she had certainly prevailed, otherwise he wouldn’t have felt so sure, so trusting. Maybe she had relied too much on that certainty at the start. Maybe she was so convinced that what she was doing was the right path to get her and everyone out of this deadly trap that she’d gotten careless, thinking herself indestructible, and maybe it was, in the end, what had killed Kalifa, and not the Tradoshans. She’d had to remind herself that it was the Force, her instinct and her training that she was supposed to follow, not some vague conviction that she’d passed this test before. So she’d had to balance herself, find the right amount of faith in her master’s belief and confidence in herself and the others around her. 

Yes, she had learned a lot…

And she couldn’t wait to tell Obi-Wan and Padmé. And maybe have a long chat about it with Master Plo as well.

She smiled to herself and the understanding of what she learned lifted the burden on her shoulders, and she felt lighter than she had ever since Kalifa’s last breath.

***

Anakin laid on his back, one arm under his head as a pillow, and watched the stars move in the night sky. His campfire was not much more than embers now, no light coming out of the New Dawn by the opened gangplank. Not a single cloud. The sky was perfectly clear, endless and inviting. He could spot Coruscant, Tatooine, Naboo, Alderaand, and even guess Mustafar if he wanted to. It was his third night on Atollon, and he had learned how to avoid attracting those blasted spiders. Turning the sensor beacon of his ship to its full strength allowed him to at least sleep in his cabin or very close proximity to the New Dawn without fearing to wake up swarmed by the not so little bastards. Emptying his mind was also a good protection so, when he was not meditating, he watched the sky, found all the systems he knew, named them, calculated the distance separating them from him, separating each other...It was a kind of meditation, all in all. But it allowed him to clear his mind, and bring forth the small child that used to look up and dream. Dreamed of freedom and adventure, of flight and discovery. He had buried that child too long. The roots that made Anakin Skywalker weren’t all corrupted, weak and festered. It was about blasted time the adult realised it and let the source of what had watered some of his better instinct to flow again. 

But just as child Anakin had been frustrated by unattainable dreams, the adult grew irked by this third night on Atollon. His third night after days spent searching for a being who, he started to suspect, didn’t want to be found. He had looked for it within the Force, yet nothing stood out, not really. A vague spark north from his landing site as he had stopped slashing his way through the spiders when he’d understood it wasn’t any good had given him some hope, but since then nothing. But his search wasn’t made easy with the spiders. Their skin was resistant to lightsabers, and he wasn't feeling adventurous enough to stab all the creatures in the eyes when they attack by packs of five dozen. So he had to use the Force to push them far away from him, or to create a whirl bubble around himself to be able to move forward and keep them away at the same time. It took concentration that he couldn’t put on looking for the Bendu. The creature was elusive, but Anakin refused to give up. If the Father had advised him to search him out, it was for a good reason, and Anakin had learned to trust his teachers’ judgement. He would start again in the morning.

But sleep was eluding him as skillfully as the Bendu, and no amount of stargazing seemed to remedy it. So if he had to be awake, at least make something useful out of it. 

With a tired sigh, Anakin sat up, crossed his legs, flexed his neck and got ready to meditate. But his shoulders tensed reflexively. Following his mentors’ recommendation, he’d tried to get beyond his inner core of pure light, but the pain was still too much. And now his body became rigid every time he tried to relax. 

Anakin took a deep breath and released it slowly, separating his mind from his body to let it fall into the flow of the Force, to be carried away within it. Soon, he became aware of everything around him. The solid ground beneath him, the wind on his face...And further away, the convorees in their nests on the corals, the decomposing bodies of half-eaten dokmas, the river in the canyon eroding the stone in its furious stream... The planet was one big living organism in Anakin’s mind, breathing against his skin, its heartbeat echoing in his own bloodstream. On the first day, he’d only been able to feel this deeply at close range around him, but he soon noticed the more he tried to reach that supernova of his, the sharper and wider his senses got. Now, he could feel a whole hemisphere without even trying and suspected that, if he really pushed, he might be able to feel the entire planet. He felt connected to the universe around him more deeply at every attempt. So despite the pain, he once again looked at his supernova. He was used to pain, he could do it...The flow of the Force carried him closer still to his blindingly bright core, and Anakin felt like burning alive once again. Only this time it was his mind that was burning and he had discovered that it was even worse than when it had been his flesh. Anakin's first instinct was to protect himself by putting a hand before his eyes, to turn away from that light slowly vaporizing his sense of self into nothingness. But he was drawn to it too. Something was waiting for him beyond that star exploding into him, he knew it, he could feel it. How had he not felt it before ? Was it because he’d passed through the Netherworld ? Or simply because now he was willing to see ?

So he reached out, accepting the burn even if it felt like he was turning into ashes, crumbling on himself, and he could swear the supernova reached back, tendrils of light expending from all over it, inviting. But the closer he got from one of them the less he could maintain his own spirit within the Force. The light was eroding it, like the river with the stone, and he could barely remember who he was, what he was and why he was here. There was nothing but the burn, and its all encompassing horror and wonder, as the very life of the planet outgrew his own within the limited structure of his being.

And as he almost lost himself completely, as one tendril was inches away from his open palm, it all became too much for any mortal to bear and he was sent back violently back into reality.   

The midday sun was casting very small shadows as Anakin panted heavily on the ground, trying without much success to catch his breath. His mind was in shambles, and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He couldn’t tell where he was, how he’d gotten here, could barely hold on to his own name. He was empty and too full at the same time. Himself and the whole of Atollon all at once. He couldn’t tell where the planet started and where he ended. His mind and his persona were hundreds of shards of glass spread out before him and mastering the will to just gather them together in a messy pile almost shattered his skull. When he could finally make sense of what his eyes saw, he realized more than a dozen spiders had encircled him, just outside the reach of the sensor beacon, but they were more curious than aggressive. 

He stood slowly, still in this dazed state of half awareness of himself, and walked to the closest creature, reaching out for it with his flesh hand. The beast’s mandibles rattled at the gesture but it did no move to attack. Anakin could feel the animal’s spark in the Force and when his hand connected to its thick skull, he understood why it did not show aggression. He felt the spider, and the whole of the planet, and the spider felt him and it’s planet reflected back at it within Anakin. That realisation seemed to even the scales of a spiritual balance inside of him and his awareness finally settled, encompassing within him all other beings on Atollon. Anakin let out a deep sigh and the corner of his lips turned slightly as he whispered under his breath:

“I’m one with the Force, and the Force is with me…”

And he felt it. A presence, massive, neither dark nor light, just a few clicks away. 

The spiders parted as Anakin walked among them, no longer seeing him as a threat but as one of them, a part of Atollon. He walked for a few minutes, occasionally meeting more spiders, but they all let him be. Every time he felt like the scales were tipping off again, Anakin focused on the little signs of life within Atollon to prevent his own consciousness to take over, or on the soft song of his kyber crystal within his lightsaber to prevent Atollon from erasing him completely from his own mind. It was a delicate dance, and the more skillful he grew at it, the clearer the presence he chased became. Soon, he found himself at the edge of a large pit shaped like an amphitheatre. There were no spiders anywhere near, the presence was definitely close, and he was exhausted from both meditation and dance, so he closed his eyes and let his own self wash over Atollon like a wave and clear its presence from his mind. It was both painful and a relief to be wholly himself again. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer alone in the clearing. 

A tall being that seemed half made of coral towered above him, his shadow engulfing him, his silver eyes piercing right through him, and an appraising smile on his lips. 

“Bendu, I’d wager,” Anakin said.

“That I am,” the being replied, his voice deep and reverberating against the curved stone of the pit. “I felt you seeking me out ever since your arrival. You move the Force like a cosmic maelstrom on my quiet world. Inside and outside of yourself. Quite peculiar.”

“Apologies about that,” Anakin said. “I am learning control all over again. It has a tendency to elude me. I wasn’t purposely trying to disturb your peace.” 

“And what purpose might have brought you here ?” Bendu asked, his gaze so focused on him it almost burnt.

“I was looking for you.”

“Oh !” Bendu laughed and it rumbled against the rocks. “And why would you do that ? How do you even know of me ? Not many do !”

“The Father advised me so.”

At the name, all mirth flew away from Bendu’s features, replaced by curiosity and seriousness.

“A name I have long not heard of and a man I haven’t seen in an even longer while.”

Bendu kept his gaze on Anakin, clearly trying to get a measure of him.

“And who might you be, maelstrom ?”

“Anakin Skywalker.”

How strange the name still felt on his own tongue…

“And what might you be ?”

Anakin opened his mouth to answer, but could not find one appropriate. What could he reply ? A former slave ? A former Sith Lord or a former Jedi Knight ? A man lost in time ? He wanted to say he was a Jedi, he wanted to be a Jedi but he wasn’t ready for that yet.

Bendu was waiting for his answer, seeing clearly the conflict within him.

“I have been a lot of things,” Anakin finally said. “A slave, a property to be sold and bought, a Jedi Knight, a general, a student, a teacher, a husband, a failure of a father, a Sith Lord, a traitor and a murderer. The Chosen One and a disappointment. The galaxy’s only hope and it’s doom. Nothing and the most valuable piece on the board. What I am now, I cannot tell you, for I am searching for it.”

Bendu’s gaze grew only sharper at those words.

“What you are is a being made of stars and nebulas,” he said. “I see equal amounts of blood and bones and pure Force within you. A walking and living nexus. What you are is a supernova waiting to happen. A cosmic storm searching for a release or appeasement. What you are, is out of balance, but on your way towards it.”

“You can sense all those things just by looking at me ?” Anakin asked, amazed.

Bendu laughed again, amusement clear.

“I could sense it the moment your ship exited hyperspace, Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One. Your conflict is like a storm within the Force. I can sense that you are touched by both the Bogan and the Ashla and trying to find your place between them.”

“The Father said you were the one in the middle. He thought... I thought you could help me reach that same state. The Father said you could be the teacher I needed.”

Bendu hummed to that statement and once again took a measure of Anakin, looking him from head to toe. He then gestured for Anakin to sit down. Once Anakin had crossed his legs under him and set his full attention on Bendu, the being said:

“I am the one in the middle because I was born into existence to be so. It is my nature, but it is not yours. You know the Bogan and you know the Ashla and you think that existing between them both is what will bring you balance ?”

Anakin nodded.

“Then you are mistaken. Ashla is balance, Bogan is imbalance. To exist between them isn’t balance, it’s conflict.”

“But you are not conflicted. You feel balanced.”

“Because I was made to be so. You were not. You are the Chosen One. You are human and you are the Force.”

“You believe me to be the Chosen One because I told you that I am or do you know so ?”

“Your presence in the Force is unlike any other, the Force doesn’t just pass through you, the midichlorians are not just a gate for the Force to manifest itself through you, like other Force-sentitives. The Force is woven through you, through your very being, your fabric. The Whills have long announced your arrival, and I know a Force singularity when I see one. You, Anakin Skywalker, are unique.”

Anakin stayed quiet, mulling over Bendu’s words. He’d heard more of the same from different people, yet it still struck a chord within him, one he still felt uncomfortable with.

“How do I do it ? How do I reach balance ?” he asked lowly.

“You know the taste of the Bogan and you fear it. You shouldn’t.”

“I know fear is to be avoided but the Dark Side and all it entails are to be regarded with extreme caution ! I’m not wrong in this,” he blurted out in outrage.

“But you are. It’s the unknown that brings fear yet you know the Bogan. It has left traces all over you. Use it.”

“I’m not using the Dark Side ever again !” Anakin bit back in cold anger. “It’s all…”

“I’m not asking you to use the Bogan,” Bendu cut with authority. “Use your knowledge of it. You know how it operates, what it feeds on, what effects it has and what it leaves in its wake. Use that knowledge to strengthen your will against it. If you know how to deny it, you control it. If you control it, you do not fear it, and the Ashla is all that remains.”

Easier said than done was Anakin’s first thought. 

“You can do it,” Bendu said in a gentler voice, “you’ve been doing it since you arrived. That’s how you found me. By giving yourself to the Ashla, you managed to become one with the Force yet remain yourself. You found balance between your being and the Force did you not ?”

“How do you know ?”

“Because I hid myself from you in such a way that you could only find me by becoming one with Atollon.”

So it had all been a test. Anakin should have seen this coming. But he wasn’t angered by it. He was too used to it by now.

“How did you manage ?” Bendu asked.

So Anakin explained, told him about the exploding star that made his inner core and how he was supposed to go beyond it, to finally become what he was supposed to be.

“And the Father thinks I can help with that ?” Bendu asked without really expecting a confirmation. “Yes. Yes I can. But not today. Today, you first go back to your ship without being attacked by the kryknas, and then you rest. Tomorrow, we begin.”

It took much longer for Anakin to return to the New Dawn as he had lost his connexion with the planet and therefore was much more vulnerable to the spiders. Once he was seated at the captain’s chair, he turned his conversation with Bendu in his head. Every word made sense, but he doubted his ability to transform them into reality. He spent long minutes thinking about the Dark Side, about balance, about past mistakes and Jedi teachings. His gaze drifted toward the two holocrons set on a shelf in the resting area, one Sith, the other the one he favored from Bastila Shan. He then looked at his hands, one flesh and blood, the other wires and metal. 

Balance.

Light and dark.

Being touched by both and knowing both.

It felt right.

A smile tugged at his lips and he opened the files of his bounty hunter persona. It might not be the best idea, for if the Sith ever got word of him they would most likely get the reference, but it felt right . So Anakin typed the name and sent all the files and information about his cover into the guildes databases and the HoloNet. 

When he would arrive on Nar Shaddaa, he would be ready to be Bogan Ashla.

Chapter Text

The senatorial chamber never was a quiet place, but it wasn't as much the sound of hundred voices speaking over one another as the overbearing of negative emotions rushing from every corner that Obi-Wan was squinting at. From his observation post at the empty docking box of Naboo’s pod, he let his eyes scan the vast arena. Tensions were high today, anger and fear ringing in his head, frustration and contempt like burn marks on his skin. The Force was heavy and muddied, and it took all of his well practiced Jedi control not to shrug, as if some cold and sticky liquid had just dropped along his spine. His discomfort must have travelled along the faint bond he now shared with Ahsoka, as she turned to him, eyes questioning, wanting to know if he was alright. He simply nodded, and noticed that her eyes turned immediately back to a precise point in the rotunda, and followed her gaze.

Padmé was sitting still in her hovering pod, her majestic dress impeccable, not a hair out of place, yet it was hard to miss the splint keeping her broken wrist and forearm still. No amount of makeup could have lessened the angry red of the deep cut on her left cheek, where a piece of her cracked transparisteel helmet had hurt her when it had exploded under the pressure. Obi-Wan would have sworn she even wore those injuries like badges of honor, proof of her commitment to the Republic and her lack of fear at getting at the heart of things, let them be a battlefield. Some senators hated her ardently for that. Others respected her all the more.

Her eyes, on the other hand, hadn't changed. Unyielding, resolute and focused on the task at hand. She listened to Prince Lee-Char, in the Mon Cala pod hovering next to hers, as he recounted the lost Second Battle of Mon Calamari. The alliance of the Quarren to the Separatist, the invasion lead by Riff Tamson, the valiant resistance of the Mon Calamari in the first assault, the heartless counterattack of the Hydroid Medusas, the failed support of the Gungans, his own capture, and latter his escape alongside Senators Meena Tills and Amidala, Gian Ackbar, Master Fisto and other high ranking members of the Mon Cala army thanks to the Gungans send to support them, how the Gungans failed too, and how they had barely been able to get to the surface with their lives and leave the planet aboard the fleeing Republic fleet before the planet was completely taken over by the Separatist. 

As Senator Mills took turns to explain to an outraged Senate how many of the Gungans, along with the Mon Cala population and the surviving clones had been rounded up in slave camps, while they were escaping, Obi-Wan turned to Kit Fisto. The Jedi Master was making a good effort in hiding the fact that he was slouching more than standing, using the wall of the box to support his weight, avoiding to rest too much of it on his right leg, traces of the damages left by the electric eels still visible on his skin, like arborescent lines. He still needed at least a full day in a bacta tank but had insisted on coming to today’s session, and couldn’t hide the sadness on his features.

“How many ?” Obi-Wan asked as the Senator spoke about the slave camps.

Kit Fisto didn’t bother looking strong as he simply replied, dejected:

“Too many.”

Many senators raised their voices to express their concern at the fact that Mon Cala’s precious shipyards were now at the hand of the enemy, the resources of the planet their to plunder, and it was Palpatine himself that noted how much of a critical blow it would be for public moral to see such a ancient and steady bastion of the Republic fall. 

“Resources, ships and shipyards, symbols…” Ahsoka enumerated under her breath to her teachers. “They don’t seem to care much about the people still left there.” 

“I do not think it’s true for them all,” Obi-Wan replied. “Most of them cannot, or think they cannot, dwell too much on the people while the blow strikes the whole Republic. Fortunately, the Loyalists hold a great deal of weight, they will remind those who think only in terms of profit and material cost that war is waged on more, and by more, than just that.”  

Ahsoka gave him a look he could have considered disbelieving but part of him refused to see it. She was too young to lose faith like this. There had to be something to salvage from this mess to give her, and everyone, hope again. Padmé sure looked like she wasn’t going to drop that particular ball anytime soon.

“I humbly request aid from the Republic to liberate my planet !” Prince Lee-Char said. “Too few of us managed to escape, with too few resources to reclaim Mon Cala. It’s only by acting together, in virtue of the long lasting alliance between this body and Mon Cala that we would free my home from its invaders. Only then would Mon Cala be able to offer, once again, its full support to the Republic in this war.”

The implication of this support wasn’t lost on anyone, and cheers rose from all around.

Only to be broken by the senator of Malastar:

“It would take a considerable amount of force to take back the planet ! From which battlefield would you like to withdraw such force ? Which planet are you willing to see fall to claim your own ?!”

Many senators vehemently expressed their agreement with the statement and soon, the rotunda descended in a resounding chaos. Mas Ameda had to call for order and threaten to end the session. Palpatine opened his arms, palms forward, and silence fell over the chamber with ease.

“This body hears and recognizes your hardship, King Lee-Char,” the Chancellor assured with all his benevolent grandfatherly voice. “But I’m afraid that a fair point was pointed to earlier: as of now, I’m saddened to say that the Republic cannot afford to pull back troops from any ongoing battlefield. The clones still on Kamino lack either the experience or the training required for an operation such as this one. Of course, liberating Mon Cala will be put on top of the priorities of the Grand Army of the Republic, as I can swear to you this, as soon as we have the resources available, we will strike back.”

“But what of my people ?” the young king exclaimed. “What of all the people still trapped on my planet, suffering under the yoke of the Separatist ?”

“One more of the same !” yelled another voice from somewhere, which sparkled another chorus of exclamations. 

The Chancellor brought silence once again.

“What would you propose to see your people free so quickly ?” Palpatine asked.

He was met with silence from the king, as the young man tried to formulate an answer. Scofs and snickers could be heard, and Obi-Wan thought it very cold, if not inappropriate, from the Chancellor to diminish like this the ruler of a sovereign world of the Republic.  

“I’m afraid the only thing we can do right now is prepare the best we can so the chances of success will be at their highest and therefore all the people who are suffering right now will do so for the shortest amount of time.” Palpatine concluded. “But what we can do now, is take good care of the people who did manage to flee Mon Cala. How many of them ?”

“Less than three hundred,” Senator Mills replied.

“Then we should discuss how to properly help them settle…” Palpatine started

“If I may, Chancellor,” Padmé’s voice then cut loud and clear.

“Senator Amidala will be permitted to speak,” Ameda announced.

Obi-Wan watched Padmé rise and stand at the front of her pod, her broken arm tightly bound and her chin held high. He couldn’t suppress a smile. Even so hurt, she managed to turn what some would be seen as weakness into a weapon of strength. Her words would carry even more weight, for none could deny that she hadn’t suffered and gave a bit of herself to the cause she was defending. It wouldn’t be empty words, it would be shield and sword, wielded with practice and confidence. A weapon in her arsenal and a wonderful “kriff yourselves !” to her detractors. She really was something…

“As soon as it became clear the Mon Calamari would need asylum, Naboo offered sanctuary to the refugees. My planet stands together with Mon Cala as many Gungans are now prisoners from the Separatists. We share King Lee-Char’s worries and pain, Queen Neeyutnee and Boss Nasa are both prepared and willing to support the refugees, on land and underwater. Our people will go through this ordeal hand in hand, if the Senate gives its permission. The strife of Mon Cala is ours as well, and we will face the challenging times together, and have no doubt we will overcome it.”

Rounds of applause resonated within the rotunda. From afar, Obi-Wan could see Bail Organa's proud smile.

“I see no reason to object,” Palpatine agreed gladly. “As Senator Amidala put it so well, the Republic and Mon Cala will face those troubled times together, as they always have, and we won’t fail. You have my word.”

As more applause rang in the chamber, Panaka drove the pod back to its docking box, and Padmé was helped out of it by Mottee, as the session ended. She didn’t say a word to the Jedi, just gestured for them to follow her. All three fell in line behind her, a step further than her security. Walking down the corridor to her office, they were joined by the Mon Calamari delegation, and soon after by the Chandrila and Alderaand senators with their aids. The four Senators started to talk with animation, the King a little behind, not daring to speak up too much. Captain Ackbar then came to walk beside Obi-Wan and Kit Fisto.

“Master Kenobi, an honor to meet you,” the man said with his deep voice. “If only it could have been under better circumstances, I would have liked to discuss strategy with the Negotiator.”

“I’m afraid that, whether we like it or not, we will have to discuss strategy, Captain,” Obi-Wan observed darkly. “I’m very sorry the Republic cannot take action sooner, but as much as I loath admitting it, the Chancellor and the other senators aren’t completely wrong. Our forces are stretched too thin already, and we don’t have the manpower to take Mon Cala back now.”

“I suspected as much,” Ackbar acknowledged grimly. “No real surprise here.”

“Don’t you have allies ?” Ahsoka asked. “Worlds with ties strong and friendly enough who could lend you military support ? It would lessen the amount of men the Republic would have to grant and make the operation possible sooner.”

“It’s a very good idea, Ahsoka,” Master Fisto praised, “but unfortunately, this won’t be as easy.”

“Why ? It’s not unheard of for worlds to stick together during this war. Look at the Naboo !”

“Their help is of course most welcome, and we would be in much more dire state if not for them.” the captain granted. “But the truth is, young one, that the worlds that could help us would have done so without much hesitation for the former king. Because they knew him. His son, they don’t know. All they know is that he failed to keep his planet. They won’t trust him if they think he cannot lead nor rule. This was his first test, and in the eyes of many, he failed it.”

“So they won’t be willing to stick their neck just because everything was carefully planned against him ?” she asked.

“They will say that, if he truly had the mantle of a king, he would have found a way out, or die trying.”

Obi-Wan watched as Ahsoka’s brow knitted, as she clearly disagreed with this stand. Unfortunately, the captain was right. And even now, Lee-Char was letting Senator Mills take the decisions for him with Mon Mothma, Bail and Padmé.

As they reached her office, Padmé ushered them in, letting them sit on the sofas while Motte was already pouring drinks. As Kit passed by her, Padmé stopped him with a smile to inquire about his recovery. The Nautolan master's easy smile came back as he replied and asked about her own injuries, in a camaraderie only born out of a shared fight. Padmé had this way around Jedi.

“I again cannot thank you enough for your help and support, Senator Amidala,” the young king said as he paced beside the sitting area.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Padmé said as she took place beside Bail. “I know all too well what you are going through right now. The Naboo and I would do all we can to help Mon Cala.”

“You were younger than I am today when your planet was invaded, right ?”

“I was. But I also had a few months of leadership behind me. Do not bring yourself down like this, Your Highness. You did the best you could.”

Lee-Char came to a halt and stared at the table between them.

“I doubt that. I could have done more, try more. If I was braver…”

“You stood in front of the whole Senate chamber while they were fighting,” Ahsoka said. “From where I stand, it takes plenty of courage.”

Padmé smiled at her in Lee-Char’s back.

“It was wrong of the Chancellor to sabotage your authority as a ruler like he did,” Bail said with a bit of acid in his voice. “But you will have opportunities to make up for it.”

“The Loyalist will help you along the way, rest assured,” Senator Mothma confirmed. 

“I don’t know what more we could do,” Lee-Char admitted, defeated. “How did you manage to take your planet back, Senator Amidala ?”

“Looking back, I would say with a giant stroke of luck,” Padmé confessed. “But mostly with a plan most considered reckless and therefore never anticipated, the help of the Gungans, which we can’t rely on now, two strong headed Jedi, and one paid with his life, and the gambit of a little boy...who is unavailable at the moment. The plan would have never worked without all those pieces working tightly together. And I made some inconsiderate moves.”

“Such as ?”

“Asking for a vote of no confidence against Chancellor Valorum.”

Lee-Char looked at her intently:

“So if this Chancellor does nothing to help my people, I can ask for another one !”

The two Jedi Masters, the four senators and Captain Ackbar screamed at the same time a panicked “No !”, which made Lee-Char jump out of his shoes.

“I would strongly advise against it, King Lee-Char,” Master Fisto said. “This would throw the Republic in an upheaval it cannot afford.”

“Furthermore, with all the new modifications to the Constitution due to the war, the emergency state across the galaxy, and Palpatine having emergency powers, this is just impossible.” Bail noted.

“Isn’t it a bit anti-democratic ?!” Lee-Char noted, which made all the senators squirm a little on their chair.

“Even if you could, this would be a terrible idea,” Padmé added. “I did so, and I paid the price for years. When I became senator, I was considered untrustworthy because I had placed my planet above the needs of the Republic, and it is much harder to manage anything if no one is willing to listen to you. Trust my experience.”

“Then what can I do ?”

“For now, not much, that is true,” Mon Mothma recognized. “But it doesn’t mean you are powerless. You have brought people along, care for them. Make sure they are well treated and safe. Involve yourself completely in their daily life. Know their names, their strife, their hopes. It will gain their trust and show to the Senate that you can take responsibility for your people and truly lead them.”

“I know that I have to protect them, I know they need me. I just don’t know how to win this war.”

Lee-Char seemed so afraid and angry at the same time, frustrated by his own powerlessness, that Ahsoka’s heart hurt for him. She was also aware that all the adults in the room looked about to give him some piece of their own wisdom, but she felt like it wasn’t what he needed. So before any of them could talk, she said:

“You are scared, and I can understand that. But you cannot let your fear control you.”

“Aren’t you ever scared ?”

“I used to be. All the time.”

Obi-Wan gave her a sidelong look. She had never discussed it with him before. Nor with Anakin. But Anakin hadn’t needed her to tell those words to understand. Obi-Wan was different.

“But I came to realise that if you make decisions out of fear, you’re more likely to be wrong. Same goes for rushing ahead. You need time, so take it. Getting it wrong won’t save your people either.”

Kit Fisto nudged Obi-Wan’s side with his elbow with a smile.

“How can I make my people trust me when I have a hard time trusting myself ?”

“Start with the little things, like Senator Mothma said. Pretend if you have to. If you pretend to have faith in your abilities hard enough, you might end up believing it too.”

“We still need an army. We have to fight back !”

“You don’t have to carry a sword to be powerful. Some leaders’ strength is inspiring greatness in others.”

“The young Jedi is right, my king,” Ackbar said with a smile. “You are the hope of our people. As long as you are alive, they won’t give in, they will endure.”

The young king pondered at those words, mind clearly racing, then gave a soft sight and asked Padmé:

“How will my people be taken care of, once on Naboo ?”

As Padmé started to explain in detail, Obi-Wan whispered to Ahsoka:

“Well done, young padawan. It was good advice, and it reached through the king’s doubts.”

“He cares, and is willing,” Ahsoka replied. “All he lacks is confidence. If we give him the strength to find it within himself, I believe he can grow into a good ruler.”

They watched in silence as Lee-Char focused entirely on what the four senators were saying, his brow set in a determined frown. 

When the Mon Cala delegation left an hour later, still in deep conversation with Bail and Mon Mothma, the Jedi and Padmé stayed behind, Padmé finishing her drink in one go. She finally let some of the exhaustion she felt show, and Ahsoka sat beside her while refilling her glass with water. Padmé thanked her with a smile.

“I understand that the Gungans will shelter most of the Mon Cala population,” Master Fisto noted. “Will they be able to ? We don’t know how long they will need to stay.”

“We will need to have some of the refugees reside on the surface,” Padmé admitted. “It’s not perfect, but they will have full access to most of Naboo waters. Boss Nasa confirmed that the situation would not be able to last too long, the Gungans resources being limited, but the Naboo will do their best. We still have planets from which we can import goods easily enough in our system.”

“You haven't stopped to catch a breath ever since our return, haven’t you ?” Obi-Wan said with a touch of reproach as he remarked the dark circles poking under her eye-makeup.

She raised an eyebrow at him:

“And look who’s talking. Are you sure you can make judgement on other people’s self-care, Master Kenobi ? Bail keeps talking about Zigoola’s aftermath…”

Obi-Wan had the decency to look properly chastened, which made Kit laugh, which in turn made him hold on to his barely fixed broken ribs with a pained sound. Padmé turned to him:

“Can you do me a favor, Master Fisto ?”

“Who am I to deny a senator ?” the Nautolan master replied with a playful smile.

“Please go back to the Halls of Healing,” Padmé said with tired sadness. “Let your healers finish treating your wounds. And please don’t get hurt again to protect me. It pains me to see you in pain.” 

The smile on Kit Fisto’s lips disappeared and for a moment he looked at her with equal sadness. But another smile, one of compassion and caring, soon found its way to his face:

“I will. But only if you let your own physician and meddroids do the same for you. It would be a shame if the Republic had to go on without a senator such as you, and the Jedi without a friend such as you, only because said senator and friend fell flat out of exhaustion.” 

It won a light chuckle from Padmé and she nodded.

“I shall go right this moment then,” Kit continued. “Please follow suit.”

He bowed lightly and left.

“Kit’s right,” Obi-Wan said as Padmé let herself fall against the back of the sofa. “I’m sure Bail would be delighted to have you for a work-free dinner. To get your mind off of things for a little while. You can do that, only for a few hours, can’t you ?”

“I can. It’s just…”

Padmé trailed off, gaze lost in the bottom of her empty glass. This whole ordeal had brought back memories she wasn’t fond of. The scars on Master Fisto’s arms a little too similar to those on Saché’s. Mon Cala’s situation a far too familiar one. One she had to run away from as well. This time without any light at the end of the tunnel. She clung to hope non the less. The Invasion of Naboo had seemed hopeless at the time, facing the Senate’s indifference. But it worked out, in the end. She knew why she had trouble looking at the bright side. She was wounded and backed into a corner. Those past years, every time such a thing had happened, she had her husband to turn to. For hope, for comfort, for ideas, or simply for a kiss which would make her forget her own name. She started to fiddle with her jappor spinet, trying to find confidence with thoughts of Anakin, but his absence was like a cold void beside her and the knowledge that he was struggling to face his own demons far away from any help she could have given failed to grant her the warmth she sought. 

“In times like these, I always turn to Anakin,” she explained sofly. “Even if he’s not on Coruscant, I can just call him or leave him a message and he'll answer as fast as he can. Even if he has nothing tangible to say, just hearing his voice and seeing his face is enough to give me momentum for what comes next. Now, I don’t know where he is, and when I’ll see him again, and it’s…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, knowing Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would understand all the same. She looked at them both, happy to have them at least. She would go back to her apartment and ask Dormé and Teckla to have her physician come over, then she would take the evening to be with her handmaidens, her friends, like they used to when they were younger, to speak of everything and nothing, to find comfort in their steady presence and undying affection. But first, she would do that with the friend she had with her right now.

She put her arm around Ahsoka’s shoulders, drawing her close:

“I’ll do what Master Fisto advised. Starting right now. Tell me, how’s life at the Temple lately ?”

Ahsoka drew her legs under her, careful not to put her shoes on the sofa, snuggling against Padmé, and Obi-Wan took a seat in front of her, while pouring water for everyone:

“Well, those new younglings were brought to the crèche, and Force are they a handful ! The crèche masters say…”

***

One week on Nar Shaddaa and Anakin was already having problems remembering why he didn’t just storm Grakkus’ palace, take Oram Menbi, set fire to this whole vipers pit while he was at it, and leave in a glorious heap of explosion. Quick, simple and straight-forward, with the added pleasure of turning slavers to ashes. The whole moon stank of corruption and, depending on the level you were on, filth. The wealthy spent their credits without a care in the world, in casinos, brothels or arms dealers alike, the opportunists were getting their wallets full on the back of those desperate enough to take any jobs (and they were all too many), and the Hutts lorded over it all, untouchable in their power, and perfectly aware that all of their whim could be met. 

On his first day, Anakin had tried to meditate like he did on Atollon, and realised his mistake instantly as the Force tasted like rotten bodies on his tongue. Nar Shaddaa might not have been a Sith moon, it still felt like garbage. Or Anakin had turned into one of those people who used to smoke a lot and, after quitting, couldn’t stand the smell of cold smoke. During his previous visits on the moon, he didn’t feel so uncomfortable, but it had been at times where he was either still too inexperienced to feel all the nuances of Nar Shaddaa’s corruption or as a Sith Lord, who drew strength from the dark emotions oozing from the place.

It was strange, he had expected the moon to feel more or less like Tatooine or Coruscant, but the Clone Wars had presented so many opportunities for Hutts and criminals of all kinds to make profits in despicable ways, all those people then flocking to places like Nar Shaddaa, and the result was an Anakin Skywalker wishing he could cut himself from the Force while in here, or at least cut some throats. But he had a job to do, so he refrained from doing both, and focused on the task at hand. 

As soon as he had landed, and made very clear to the persons in charge of the surveillance of his docking bay that if he found a single bolt out of place on the New Dawn they’d never have enough credits for the surgery necessary to make themselves apt at living again (he was pretty sure one of them wet themselves…), he had gone straight to the Bounty Hunters Guild’s hub, where they checked his references. His first test. Would his slicing be good enough ? It turned out to be, but being new to the sector, he was left with crap jobs, mostly playing courier or escort. He finished them all fast and neat, always coming back for another job with a half bored half disdainful “Anything more ?”. In many ways, it was just like his first months within the Empire, having to prove he was worthy of his place to the jealous and small minded officers, except this time he had to crawl his way to the top instead of starting already secured on it. So he played along, developing the reputation of a man who spoke little, efficient and adaptable, who respected the Bounty Hunter’s Code, and clearly had abilities for jobs much harder than this. 

His patience paid off as, on his sixth day on Nar Shaddaa, Reinyar, the agent in charge of running the Guild on the moon, came to him as he collected the credits from his latest job.

“So, Bogan, another contract. What’s that, the ninth, since you arrived, right ?” the woman asked as she leaned on the counter beside him.

Anakin turned his head, visor toward her, so that she knew she had his attention, but kept counting his credits without a word. A smile tugged at her lips, which highlighted the deep wrinkles around them. 

“Want something a bit more interesting than…”

She looked at the holopuck he just gave back.

“...the arrest of Ectab Noltar. Jeez, this sleemo’s been avoiding the Hutt’s patrol for weeks. How did you find him in such a short amount of time and how did you arrest him?”

“I retraced his steps from the cantina he was last seen two days ago,” Anakin explained, his voice modified by his helmet sounding flat and uninterested. “Guy booked passage aboard a cargo ship to Ord Mantell. I sabotaged the ship and hid in the bay, so they had to delay for repairs once they realised they weren’t going to go anywhere. Gave the Hutt’s men the bay’s location. They arrived just as I knocked Noltar unconscious in the middle of a boring monologue about how outrageous it was that this dusty old bucket couldn’t fly when needed. Think the crew was actually glad I shut him up.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It was. If any of the morons you’ve sent so far came back empty handed, then I suggest you rethink your employment requirements.”

“I have something worth your time. Come.”

She gestured for him to follow her along the narrow hallway that led to private offices. She opened a door for him then invited him to sit at a desk. 

“I like you, Bogan,” she said as she took place in the armchair behind the desk. “You’re new, but let me make myself clear, I don’t give a blasted poodoo about where you come from, what species you are underneath this very stylish armor, and why you decided to change your hunting ground. All I care about is that you’re reliable and full of talent that shouldn’t be wasted on drivels. The hunters here are sharks and they’ll never let you take a big quarry, unless you beat them to it. And that’d be a shame considering what a man with a potential such as yours could do.”

She slid a holopuck on the surface of the desk toward him. He caught it nonchalantly and turned it on. The face of a hardened human man appeared. Hidden by his helmet, Anakin allowed his eyebrows to shoot up as he saw the amount of credits the man was worth.

“500 000 credits...Who did he pissed off so badly ?”

“Grakkus himself. The Big Boss wants the guy’s head. Literally.”

“Cold,” Anakin commented, while a particularly sharp stone seemed to make its way in his insides. “What earned him such punition ?”

“He’s giving classified information to an unidentified group. They suspect him of plotting a heist or something.”

“Traitor then.”

“Could be. Or not. I don’t know if the Hutts are well known in the Unknown Regions, but they're bitches. That guy could have been trying to help people escape the fighting arena, or didn’t laugh long enough to Grakkus’ joke, or truly be a traitor. We don’t know. We don’t care. We get paid.”

Anakin opened his arms wide, signifying clearly that he wasn’t going to argue with that.

“I just received this, no one else knows about this,” she said while crossing her feet on her desk.

“And to what do I owe the privilege ?”

“Told you: I like you,” she replied with a smile, then added more seriously. “The one to get this quarry will deliver the head directly to Grakkus. This kriffin’ war lets all kinds of scum and good-for-nothings into the business, I’m sick of it. This job needs to be handled properly and I think Grakkus will like you.”

“Will he now…”

She gave him one more knowing smirk:

“Just one warning: don’t mess this up. Or I’ll get your head myself.”

“Will I have competition ?”

“Is it important ?” 

“It’s always funnier when there's competition. Gives urgency. Makes your blood warmer.”

“You get one day as a head start,” she said. “Then the whole moon will be after his ass.”

Anakin flipped the puck in the air and left. He’d agreed to nothing. Yet he knew he could only give one answer. 

He walked out of the hub directly on the Promenade, crowded with people, an onslaught of noise and colors under the crude blinking neon-light. All those peoples’ presences were like a hammer banging against his helmet, preventing him from putting some order in his agitated thoughts. The moon’s dirty feel, all those people around him, the job he was all but forced to take and the implications it had...All of it tasted bitter and didn’t sit well with him. He needed some peace and solitude. 

Once he was back inside his ship, he locked the gangplank behind him, made sure the scramblers were operational and sat on the booth seat of the common area. There, he finally removed his helmet, taking a deep breath as he did so. This helmet had nothing in common with Vador’s, yet he still started to feel like suffocating under it after too long. Turning the visor toward himself, he looked at his reflection. He kept his beard short and well-trimmed, a stubble really, and his hair had grown again, long enough to reach past his shoulder blades when he untied them from the messy bun he kept most of the time. His gaze was hard, but not from an inextinguishable hatred, more so now from experience. The gaze of a man who’s seen too much. 

He was different. 

Different from the man he was when he came back. 

He wasn’t the Anakin Skywalker that fell anymore. He wasn’t Darth Vador anymore. 

Yet, here he sat, trying to convince himself that his only choice was to kill a man to save more lives. The Anakin that fell had told himself over and over that killing the Jedi was the only way to save Padmé, pretended he didn’t know perfectly that what he was doing was wrong, that he was wrong. Darth Vador had persuaded himself that all the atrocities he’d done were for the good of the Empire. What was a handful of lifes, compared to the whole galaxy ? And at this moment he was seriously considering killing a man in cold blood and making it perfectly fine under the pretense of being for the greater good. Sergei Vasco, he was called. And he was the key to his plan. Without his head, no access to Grakkus and his palace, no chances to get the Hutt’s trust, no way to get to Menbi, no way to save the Clones...One death, to prevent the whole future he came from. If, of course, everything didn’t go south, which they were most certainly going to. He had a terrible record on that account after all…

He wished he had one of his teachers nearby to talk to, but none of them were reachable. He used to try and solve everything by himself, or ask guidance without truly explaining the problem, like he’d done with Yoda after his dreams about Padmé, but Qui-Gon, and a lifetime of bad decisions, had taught him what Obi-Wan had tried and failed to: when you’re lost, seek guidance. Right now, he longed for the Father’s certainty, Qui-Gon’s faith and Bendu’s wisdom. Like a child, he wanted a loving parent to guide him toward the right answer. Or simply to express his thoughts aloud, as if doing so might untangle the nod inside his brain. He already knew what Obi-Wan and his mother would say about it. Or did he ? His mother…

Putting his helmet on the sofa, he walked to the holoterminal and placed the call. It took only a few seconds before Owen appeared before him.

“Little brother !” he said with joy. “I’m glad to see you.”

Anakin couldn’t help but smile back.

“Me too. How long has it been since I was at the farm ?”

“About three weeks.”

“How are things there? Did your vaporator manage or will I need to come back soon ?”

“It’s great actually. The Darklighters are almost green with envy, in a good, friendly way. Are things going along in...what you’re doing ?”

Anakin sighted and, in a very Obi-Wan-like gesture, stroke his beard:

“Well, my training is going well. It’s hard and very demanding, but I’m making progress. I...start to understand my own power better. And I think, myself too.”

“So that’s a good thing,” Owen replied while pulling a chair so he could settle for a long chat. “Why the grim face then ?”

Anakin mirrored his brother and used the Force to move a nearby chair right under him and sat, as Owen gave him a “oh-really-show-off” eyebrow quirk. Anakin smiled at this, but his mood didn’t brighten and he leaned on his elbows, looking at a point between his feet and the holoterminal.

“There’s something I have to do. I don’t really have a choice. Well, technically I do, but the other way would take a time I most definitely don’t have. So I’m reduced to that and I...I don’t know if I can do it. Or more precisely, I know I can do it, but I don’t know if I can come back from it. That slope is too slippery.” 

“What is it ? What do you have to do ?” Owen asked calmly.

“I need to get close to Grakkus, to gain his trust. And for that I…”

Anakin hesitated, fearing the judgement he knew he would find in his brother’s eyes. They had barely known each-other for a month, and he was already going to disappoint him…

“I have to kill a man, and bring his head to Grakkus.”

Owen looked at him in silence for a moment, then simply wiped his hands on the towel he was holding, flipped it on his shoulder, then mimicked Anakin’s posture but looked directly at Anakin's face.

“Why is it so important to get Grakkus’ trust ?” he asked.

“He has a slave I need to free and bring to our side. He’s the only one who can solve one particular problem that, if left unsolved, means the end of the Jedi and the galaxy as we know it, and not in a good way. This man is the key to the future.”

“You’re sure of this ?”

“Oh yes ! I’ve seen it, I’ve…” Anakin sighted again. “It’s complicated and I can’t tell you more, not now, and especially not via holocall from Nar Shaddaa. But if I fail to free this slave, I’ll create trillions more. And kill just as many.”

“And killing one man is your ticket to Grakkus’ court ?”

“Unfortunately so.”

Owen was quiet again, his gaze less focused. He leaned against the backrest of his chair, then looked back at Anakin:

“When I was eighteen, there was a big drought. Really rough, many people died, the Hutts kept most of the water to themselves and their palace. The moisture farmers were pressured to produce enough to last for just the coming days...People were desperate. Mom and my father were exhausted and they gave up most of their rations to me, so I ended up doing most of the work around the farm. One morning, as my dad opened the doors of the storage room, a man attacked him, knocked him unconscious, and went to steal all of our water supply. I arrived just as he was about to run away. So he pointed his blaster at my dad’s head, threatening to kill him if I didn’t lower my weapon first. I remember that moment so clearly, you have no idea ! Well, you probably do, but...I knew that if I let him go, Mom, my dad and I would die within days, and so would all the people who depended on our production. I know it didn’t take more than a few seconds but it seemed to last forever...I just acted. I put a bolt right in the middle of his chest. He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it...He was dead before he hit the ground.”

Anakin let Owen’s words’ full meaning blossom in his mind. The two brothers looked at each-other, knowing exactly the weight of those words and the action they described.

“T’was the first man I ever killed,” Owen continued, passing a hand on his face. “And it wasn’t even a bad person, I think. Just a poor bloke driven mad by thirst. Desperate and with nothing to lose, probably. But in his despair he’d become a threat to a lot of people and wasn’t willing to listen to reason. He’d crash against the wall and take all those nearby with him, and that ain’t fair for those who didn’t ask a blasted thing ! I was real shaken, believe me ! Mom spent a long time trying to soothe me, but even she agreed with what my father said: I’d done what had to be done. Guy chose his fate and accepted the risk when he decided to put everyone’s life in jeopardy.”

“Mom was okay with that ?” Anakin asked, disbelieving.

“We live in a hard place, Anakin. She knew that as well as you and me. She didn’t like it, but she knew it was necessary. She buried the man behind the farm, gave him a proper funeral, apologized for not being able to do more, then she kissed the top of my head and thanked me for saving them, and never spoke of it again. If you asked her about your dilemma now, I think she’d tell you the same: best to avoid it, but if you can’t, do what’s best for everyone.”

Would she really ? She’d always told him to be kind and generous. That kindness was its own reward, like when he had spent that night in the desert caring for that wounded Tusken and in return the raider had helped him find his way back home. She had been so proud of him, then. Worried about the danger he took without thinking about it, but proud. But she was no fool either. She had accepted he’d take risks for others. Would she really have agreed to let him take a life and then carry the burden of such an act ? Well, Owen had just told him so.

“I understand your point of view,” he said. “I share it, even. The problem is...I already went down that road and it turned me into a monster. I was so convinced that every life I took was for a greater vision, the greater good dictated by someone wiser than me, that I stopped caring. Each life sacrificed makes the next one so much easier to take.”

Owen frowned, clearly wondering when in all hells could have happened to his brother for him to speak like this, and open his mouth to speak but a soft voice cut him off:

“Then don’t let it !”

Beru’s image entered the holoprojection. She put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and looked at Anakin with resolve in her eyes. She had obviously heard the last bits of the conversation:

“Ideally, never find yourself in such a situation again, and work at creating a world where you don’t have to find yourself in such a dire position,” she carried on. “But if you can’t, then make yourself care. Agonize over each death you create, if you have to. Ask yourself what kind of life those people live, what hope do they have, what fear, what joy. Make those you kill a real, fleshed out person, not faceless sacrifice. If it hurts every time, then you know it's wrong.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow, not sure relying on sorrow was really of any help. It was a very Sith-like solution.

“It’s not perfect, and I can’t claim to know a lot about these kinda things,” she said apologetically, “but I think that as long as you care and know that what you’re doing, whatever necessary or not, is wrong somehow, then you won’t turn into a monster.”

Trying to lighten the mood, she added:

“If you ever became one, I’d come smack you on the head with vaporator’s parts to bring you back to your senses !”

A chuckle escaped him and, as Owen pressed a loving kiss on his wife’s hand, Anakin felt again that strange but deep affection for his step-family. The more he got to know them, the more he understood how Luke had grown into the man he was. He wasn’t his son, nor Padmé’s. He was Owen and Beru’s, really. He let his growing love for them both show on his face. It wasn’t hard, he still had trouble controlling his facial expression after twenty years hidden under an opaque helmet.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly.

“Oh don’t worry about that !” Owen said, and Anakin had no doubt he could and would chase him with a rusted pitchfork if he had to.

“You’ll tell us one day, right ?” Bery asked, a bit shy. “About what really happened to you.”

“Yes,” Anakin nodded, sure of his answer for once. “But first, I need to show you that I can be more than what I’ve been. That I can be better. I want to be better.”

“And that part is the most important, if you ask me,” Owen said.

A high-pitched beep blared in the distance behind them and they both made a face.

“Blast…” Owen swore. “We need to go, but hey, don’t hesitate to reach out again if you need to.”

“Yes, even if it’s just to make small talk. Anything you need to ease your mind. We’re here for you.”

Anakin felt another smile grace his lips:

“I hold you to that too.”

“Be safe, little brother.”

The call ended, and Anakin felt much lighter. He still hated what he had to do and feared where it would lead him, but Owen and Beru’s support was like warm tea inside him. He never thought he could have something like this with them. He never gave it a chance, and that had been his mistake. One of many. But it gave him hope. Hope that they could ground him when he needed them to. And hope that he could rebuild his relationship with Obi-Wan. They would have to make the heavy, ugly work of weeding out all the things left unsaid for too long and finally come clean with each other, sorting out what was real hurt and imagined slights. Anakin was still angry at him for things he hadn’t even done yet, and hopefully never would, and that was going to be a problem for sure. But Owen had pointed it out: if Anakin wanted it, it was the most important. 

And Beru’s words, now that he thought about it more deeply, echoed Bendu's ones somehow.  She advised caring no matter what the pain it caused. In her worldview, unburdened by the knowledge of the Force and its working, it was simple, but to Anakin it was an intricate pathway. When he had brought down Operation Knightfall upon the Temple, he had known he was wrong in every possible way, but had sought out the power committing those atrocities would give him. He had sought the Dark Side out.  If, when killing his target, he rejected all the negative emotions it caused, if he denied the Dark Side any hold on him despite his action, he could hold it at bay. Know the Bogan, so you can use that knowledge to prevent its grasp on your soul . Of course, it wasn’t as easily said than done, but Bendu had birthed the faith he could manage. Baby-steps for a giant leap. Well, he’d always liked going big…

And, if he was being honest, did he ever truly believed entering Grakkus’ circle would require any less than a murder ? In his heart, he’d known from the start what he would have to do, and he came anyway. So it was time to stop burying his head in the sand, and get things done. He only had a day before every bounty hunter on Nar Shaddaa started to get in his way. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, as after spending twenty years hunting down Jedi, he was quite apt at finding people, but he’d rather maximise his chance of success. 

***

It took longer than Anakin would have liked it to find Sergei Vasco. The man must have had word of Grakkus’ intention to put his head on a wall, and had gone into hiding, covering his tracks well and some people obviously didn’t feel like giving him up to the wolves. He had to spend a fair amount of credits in bribes, used a bit of intimidation, and relied on the Force. Even Jedi couldn’t disappear completely, so Anakin caught Vasco’s trail eventually. He only had two hours left before the contract was made public, and he didn’t want one lucky bastard to steal his prey from right under him. 

He went to the underground level under the corellian sector and easily spotted the building Vasco was using as a hideout. A simple apartment complex, in a residential district for the middle class. Nothing that could draw attention, but nothing too well guarded either. Vasco had taken a gamble, and against someone other than Anakin it might have worked. But Anakin was too used to this game. He walked to the front door, had no problem slicing the control panel, then entered the deserted lobby. Letting his feelings expand, Anakin sensed that almost every occupant of the numerous apartments were sleeping soundly. He then scanned the list of names matching the apartment numbers, hoping to find one of the aliases he’d heard during his search for the man. He seemed to be in luck as he found one. It was no problem to slice into the closing mechanism of the door either. 

Dimly lit by the neonlight of the street, the place was empty, neatly organised and on a first look gave the perfect impression of the home of someone who works decently for a living and didn’t dabble in anything nefarious. But Anakin noticed the absence of anything that could indicate that the person living here was actually living here: a plant or some decoration, a discarded datapad, an half-empty bottle of any beverage...the place was feeling as empty as it looked. Aside from an open suitcase in the entrance of the bedroom door. Kneeling before it, Anakin saw a few changes of clothes, a lot of datapad and a few credits. It didn’t seem like Vasco had abandoned it and left in a hurry, which suggested he would come back. So Anakin returned to the living room, searched for any kind of security or surveillance system, and as he found none, sat comfortably in the armchair facing the bedroom and giving a good view of the door, while he remained in the shadows, and waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Around half an hour later, the door opened and Vasco entered, putting a bag on the kitchen counter. The door closed behind him and Anakin used the Force to activate the lock. With his back to him, Vasco hadn’t noticed Anakin yet. He simply lit the kitchen counter and unpacked what looked like more datapads. He activated one, read the front page, and sighed with relief. He didn’t look like a man on the run for his life, and Anakin was both impressed by his calmness and intrigued by this lack of fear.

So he decided to break the silence:

“You don’t seem to be in a rush, for the most wanted man on this dumpster they call a moon.”

Vasco turned suddenly and pointed a blaster at his chest. He was surprised but unafraid:

“How did you get here ?”

“You are not as hard to find as you would like,” Anakin simply said.

“Oh yes, I suppose that Grakkus spared no expenses for little old me,” Vasco replied with a snark.  “But I’ve never seen you before. Hoping to get a promotion ? A safe gig next to the Big Boss ? Well, I’m almost sorry to not be there to see how it goes. But spoiler alert: it won’t go well. It never does with those slugs.”

“Well aware,” Anakin replied flatly. “But that won’t be your problem.”

“Won’t be yours either !” 

Anakin saw Vasco’s shot, aimed for the weak point at the junction between his neck and his shoulders, before the man’s finger even reached the trigger, so he simply lifted his hand, and caught the bolt before it reached him, then sent Vasco’s blaster fly across the room with a flicker of his finger, catching it with his mechanical hand, then pointed it at Vasco’s heart. The man looked more angry than afraid. No, not angry...disappointed. In Anakin, not in himself. 

“Something you want to say ?” Anakin asked, curious.

“This little trick there. Jedi do that kind of stuff. Yet here you are, doing dirty work for one of the worst scum of the galaxy…”

“There are far worse scums than Grakkus in this galaxy, I’m afraid,” Anakin cut. “But in the end, everyone reaps what they sow. It’s only a matter of time before Grakkus falls from his pedestal.”

“No, they don’t. This world is kriffin unfair, rotten to the core, and the likes of Grakkus will always be safe on their pedestal. And people like you only make it worse. But ‘tis not like you care anyway.”

Anakin rose slowly from his chair, keeping his aim. He had feared the case where Vasco would actually turn out to be a man who sought to free slaves from Grakkus’ fighting arena, because it would mean Vasco was a good man, one with principles, brave enough to try and make a change. One Anakin should help, not put down. 

“For all it's worth, I do care.”

Acting on pure impulse, Anakin raised his other hand and put his helmet off. He wanted Vasco to be able to look him in the eyes, he had earned the right to see the face of the man who was going to kill him, and Anakin had to bear the weight of this gaze, its silent accusation and judgement. And Vasco’s stare bore into him, defying, accepting. 

“And I am sorry,” Anakin added. “I really am.”

“Sorries don’t cut it, kid,” Vasco said harshly to the man he believed was half his age. “You can be sorry all you want, at some point you have to grow some balls and admit you made shitty decisions and are a terrible person. If you don’t have the stomach for it, then I hope I will haunt your every dream.”

“You will. They all do, now.”

He pressed the trigger and the bolt got Vasco straight in the heart. Vasco fell against the door, and was dead long before his body reached the ground. His eyes were still open, and even if Anakin knew them to be empty, he couldn’t erase the feeling of being laid bare by those dead brown eyes. To escape them, Anakin closed his own eyes, fighting hard for the balance that had seemed so easy on Mortis and Attolon. He conjured the image of Luke in his mind, the hope and love that had lit him up from the inside when he had seen his father’s disfigured face for the first time. Leia’s face appeared right next to Luke, then Shmi’s, Padmé’s, Beru’s, Owen’s, Ahsoka’s, Kitster’s. Obi-Wan’s. He wanted to be the man they believed he could be. To fall is a choice. To stay in the light was a choice too. And he was choosing the latter. Opening his eyes again, he threw the blaster away and put his helmet back on. He kneeled beside Vasco and closed his eyes, swearing he would make his death matter. He then carried his body to the fresher, laid him down, and unsheathed his vibroblade.

***

Grakkus’ palace bore a disturbing resemblance with the Jedi Temple in its outer look. The architecture of the place was obviously inspired by the ziggurat but, to Anakin’s eyes, shared absolutely none of the Temple's tranquil beauty. Under his helmet, Anakin wrinkled his nose at it, unable to hold his contempt at bay. He had to repeat himself that the Hutt was a mean to an end, and that once he had what he came for, he could always blow the place sky-high. He wouldn’t, too many innocents trapped inside it for him to truly consider it, but the picture of the palace going up in flames was enough to calm him as he walked to the guards managing the entrance though the front door. The four Gamorrean grunted at him while the Duros who looked to be in charge just gave him a suspicious glance:

“A newcomer, right ?” he asked. “What do you want ?”

Anakin flipped the holopuck at him:

“To get paid,” he replied, his voice sounding blasé.

The Duros turned the puck on, and raised an interested eyebrow when seeing the quarry:

“Really ?”

Anakin held up the suitcase he had taken from Vasco’s appartement and opened it, revealing just enough of Vasco’s beheaded face. The Duros whistled in appreciation, and went to touch the suitcase, but Anakin slammed it shut:

“For the boss. Or did I misunderstood the contract ?”

The Duros sniffed with disdain:

“Yeah, got it,” he said as he activated his comlink. A sharp “What ?” was his response, to what the man said: “A hunter brought Vasco’s head. Do I send him your way ?”

“Yes, immediately,” Grakkus’ voice replied, sounding very pleased.

The Duros snapped his fingers:

“You two, take him to the boss’ audience chamber.”

Two Gamoreean lead him through the maze of corridors and Anakin had time to take in the luxury of the place. Grakkus was wealthy and it showed. Not in a clinky and overstuffed way, but the materials used to decorate the place were luxurious and rare, coming from all across the galaxy. And Grakkus’ collector’s nature was on full display as many well preserved antiques (or stolen objects) were on display along the walls. Soon, one corridor opened on a large, high-ceiling room, crowded with people who all turned to him as he walked down the few stairs then made his way toward the platform at the other end of the room, where Grakkus was towering and waiting. He crossed the distance separating them with confident long strides while taking in the Hutt before him. His legs weren’t the one he’d seen on him when they had met during the era of the Empire. They were rougher, still an early draft, but still very impressive in their ingenuity and craftsmanship. The Hutt was also much more muscular than the rest of his kind, and cut a much more impressive stature. Anakin stopped a few steps before the platform and waited for Grakkus to speak.

The Hutt looked him up and down with an amused expression.

“So. You’re the one who brought me Vasco’s head, are you ?” he asked in basic.

For all reply, Anakin plunged his hand in the suitcase, grabbed Vasco’s hair and threw the head toward Grakkus, making it roll on the ground and bump to a stop on the platform’s edge. 

A murmur rose from the gathered crowd and Grakkus chuckled:

“Well, that was fast. Reinyar was right to insist on giving you an exclusive on the job. What’s your name, bounty hunter ?”

“Bogan. Ashla.”

“Which one ? Bogan or Ashla ?”

“Depends on my mood,” Anakin said flatly.

Grakkus didn’t got the joke, but found him amusing all the same as he laughed:

“You are new around here, but not new in the business. Where do you hail from ?”

“The Chaos. You people here call it the Unknown Regions, I believe.”

Another round of whispers rose higher this time. Grakkus even raised an eyebrow, clearly interested:

“And what could have possibly decided you to come here, in Hutt Space of all places ?”

“Much easier to travel, so much easier to work. And a far wider range of clientele. The Chiss pay well, but better they forget about me for a while.”

“Pay well, hum. As quarry or as employer ?”

Anakin replied with his most jeering voice:

“Both !” 

Grakkus roared with laughter at this:

“I like you, Bogan. You have spirit. And skills, as it shows.”

A Nikto then came, whispered something to Grakkus’ ear which seemed to raise the slug’s interest even more. He looked at Anakin with a calculating look.

“You fulfilled the contract, you will of course be paid. But I have another offer for you. Would you like to hear it ?”

Anakin extended his senses, ready for any treachery, not liking much the look of pure gluttony the Hutt had while looking at him.

“Can’t hurt,” he simply said.

“You see, I’m a collector, an avid connoisseur of art and relics from many civilizations and cultures. My favorite is all things related to the Jedi. And I’ve had word that a ship docked a few days ago on my moon. A Jedi ship, dating from the Old Republic era, and in perfect condition. And I’ve just been confirmed you are the proud owner of said ship.”

“So you want what ? To buy my ship ?” Anakin asked while celebrating inside: he had the Hutt exactly where he wanted him. Between Vasco’s head and the New Dawn , he had the upper hand in any negotiation that was coming, and he knew precisely where he wanted this deal to go.

“Exactly, my friend,” Grakkus said jovialy. “Agree to sell your ship to me, and I add its worth to the bounty you just won with Vasco’s head. How much would you be willing to sell it for ?”

Anakin closed his arms on his chest and made a show of considering the offer:

“Well, considering the time and resources used to make it fit for travel, the upgrades, the cosmetic restoration, the value as an antique...five millions credits.”

A shocked yelp resonated in the room, both from the number he just gave and the sheer audacity of it. Grakkus only chuckled again.

“That’s quite a sum.”

“Well, I’d need to buy a new ship if I sell you mine. And let’s face it, you have the money. You can afford it. Several times over.”

“Still a lot. Would you be willing to lower that price ? I can throw in something more, maybe.”

Anakin stayed quiet and still for a good minute. He probably looked like a droid which had shut down but everyone knew better. Every person gathered in that room had their attention focused on him, hanging to his lips, waiting to see if he was stupid enough to refuse, or greedy enough to make a better counteroffer. 

“Alright, I shall lower the price,” he finally said and a sigh of relief blew in the room. “But on one condition.”

Now people were holding their breath, waiting to see where that bargain would go.

 “You hire me. Give me preeminence for your big jobs, and once the total sum from those jobs amounts to the price of the ship, it’s yours.”

Grakkus was stroking his massive chin pensively, clearly giving the idea some thoughts, while some of the other bounty hunters gathered in the room looked displeased.

“That’s an idea. But that would be unfair to my older and regular partners, wouldn’t it ?”

“I don’t give a damn about your partners, I didn’t make it all that way from the Chaos for sightseeing. I came for work. And you want my ship or not ? It’s take it or leave it.”

Grakkus laughed again, clearly having a great time:

“You are eager. You’ll make quite a number of enemies like this.”

“And the part where I care about it is ?”

“And if you fail me, what then ?” Grakkus asked, the menace barely hidden.

“I won’t.”

“So sure of yourself !”

“I know my worth. And soon, so will you.”

Anakin let his mind brush against Grakkus’ and knew he had won. The Hutt was a creature ruled by greed and only putting on a show to make the other hunters believe he didn’t cast them aside without a care just to get what he wanted. 

The Hutt descended from the platform, his mechanical legs swift and nimble, and walked up to Anakin, towering over him:

“Are all creatures from the Unknown Regions as entertaining as you ?”

“Why wonder when you are probably never going to find out ?”

Grakkus smiled and gestured for someone. A Twi’lek who looked a lot like a secretary appeared by Grakkus’ side, and the Hutt said:

“Come, we’ll discuss terms.”

Anakin searched the Force for any signs of subterfuge, but it  truly seemed like he had won this battle. So he followed Grakkus and his assistant out of the audience chamber and down a private corridor. They entered a circular sitting room and the Twi’lek invited him to sit on one of the very comfy sofas and offered him a glass of Corelian whiskey. He refused the glass while he sat, an arm resting on the backrest of the sofa and legs crossed, trying to give off the most relaxed and confident impression. The Twi’lek served Grakkus a drink then sat behind a small desk, ready to take notes. 

“You seemed very confident I would take your deal, Bogan,” Grakkus said, all mirth gone, and now all business.

“I’m a much too shiny new toy for you to pass,” Anakin said with good humored sarcasm in his voice. “All but a stranger, from one of the least explored corners of the galaxy, dropping out of nowhere with the head you asked for, and with a ship you desperately want in your collection...I never enter a game without a winning hand.”

“A sound philosophy. Wouldn’t it be, by any chance, the reason you had to flee the Unknown Regions ? Too many games won against adversaries tired of being outplayed ? Those Chiss, for example ?”

If Anakin had really been who he pretended to be, he probably wouldn’t have appreciated being exposed like this, so he inclined his head slightly and rolled his shoulders:

“You either make a living or you make friends. But I don’t swindle my employers, they always get what they paid for. I actually get along very well with some of them. But as I said, the clientele in the Chaos is limited. One needs to widen his horizons at some point, and I’m a man of great curiosity.”

Grakkus was listening intently, and Anakin had to be careful not to let him believe he would double-cross him for the lure of profit:  

“And I like keeping my head attached to my shoulder, so…”he added with an amused tone. “In the end, I’m a very simple man.”

Grakkus came closer and stood before him, towering above him, taking the measure of him. He then leaned toward him and looked at his reflection in Anakin’s perfectly polished visor.

“Is that what you are, Bogan ? A man doesn’t hide behind a mirror because he’s simple.”

“Why then ?” Anakin asked, making his smile obvious through his voice.

“You tell me.”

A test. Fine, he had spent his time facing those, in the past year. Let the Hutt get what he wanted.

“A man hides behind a mirror because he is not a man,” he replied.  “He is a faceless tool to be used. A weapon to be wielded. The reflection of the master holding him. He is nothing, except what he needs to be.”

“And what are you now ?” the Hutt asked in a honeyd voice, savoring their understanding.

Anakin straightened and brought his helmeted face few inches from Grakkus:

“What do you need me to be ?”

Grakkus straightened to all his height, a satisfied smile on his wobbly lips:

“A thief. The Pykes have hijacked a cargo of spice meant for me. The spice is raw and was meant to be reconditioned for sale at the highest price in Nar Shaddaa’s casinos. It’s a lot of credit that those fat heads just stole from me. Go to Oba Diah, get my cargo back but make sure I cannot be suspected or blamed. If you succeed, I will have a permanent place for you at my side.”

He offered his hand for Anakin to shake it and seal the deal. And Anakin was all too happy to do so. The Force was really with him, for it sounded too good to be true. With one stone, he had struck the two most important birds in the foundations of his plans: a trusted position at Grakkus’ court, and a chance to get Sliman back from the Pykes. 

The Twi’lek dropped the reward for Vasco’s head in his hand, and Grakkus concluded:

“You have two weeks. If you fail, no matter where you hide, it’s your head that will roll on the floor to my platform.”

Chapter Text

Anakin left Grakkus’ palace with a feeling of hope and success that couldn’t be tempered by the distrust he knew he should keep on the front lines of his thoughts. He surely didn’t trust Grakkus as far as he could throw him and expected the slug to betray him as soon as it would be advantageous for him. But if he could pull this job off, his place as a member of Grakkus’ inner circle was guaranteed. He would then have access to information about Oram Menbi, perhaps even to the man himself, and most of all would have access to all the information he needed to break the scientist out. Pushing a button on his left sleeve, he checked that his sensor had established a plan of the places of the palace he had walked. The holomap appeared on his visor, incomplete. He knew the palace was too well protected to try to obtain a full map like this, but he was fine with it. He was an engineer after all, he loved puzzles. He would complete this one in due time. And time, contrary to everyone else, was the one thing he had in abundance, thanks to Mortis. 

He had left by crossing the audience chamber again, and felt the looks of the other hunters gathered there, from curious to displeased to utterly murderous. He was unconcerned by them. They couldn’t take his quarry from him, nor effectively try to sabotage him. It was against the Code. They could race for a quarry, try and see who would be the first one to catch it, but if the contract was given to him and him alone, all they could do was to hate him for it. Or get extremely creative, and Anakin knew the ones actually capable of being serious problems weren’t there. So he let them sneer and kept on walking.

So yes, for the first time in a long while, he actually felt sure of his path and confident in himself and his ability to go through with this.

As he made his way through the animated streets of Nar Shaddaa, rain started to pour, heavy drops ringing on every surface, creating a loud random chorus of noises, forcing people to almost scream as they spoke to each-other and making it much harder for Anakin to keep track of the three footsteps following him since Grakkus’ palace. They’d been two at first, then he had spotted one more walking and jumping on the ledges of the buildings above him, like a very skillful loth-cat. He had pinpoint their presence in the Force with such ease it still baffled even himself, and had locked onto them, but the drumming of the rain was like interference on a radio. He was only half surprised. The hunters couldn’t do anything to him while he was on the job or after he secured his place at Grakkus’ side, it would have been too risky and not worth the cost, but nothing stopped them from murdering him here and now. He simply didn’t think that, of all present, any had the guts to do it. Well, he’d been wrong, and it reminded him to never be overconfident or to underestimate his opponent. It would be a bad habit to fall back into, so close to securing the first step of his plan.

He used the tech in his helmet and the Force to search for an dead-end alley deserted of both people and security recorders without breaking the rhythm of his stride, making sure his three shadows kept tailing him. He made it as if he was on his way to the spaceport, took turns and passageway until the crowd grew thinner and the neon light dimmer, until finally he found the right place. He walked into the dead-end, surrounded on all sides by sixty storeys high buildings, drains too small for him to escape into at their base. The night rain clouds faintly reverberated the yellowish color of the city lights, giving the dead-end a strangely eerie atmosphere, and the rain flowing in the drains echoed against the walls. The footsteps behind him stopped at the entrance of the alley and he could feel the funambulist above him.

Without turning and preparing himself for a fight, he asked:

“Shall we get this over with ?”

The stillness of the alley was only broken by the pouring of the rain, as nothing happened for a moment, as if everything was holding its breath. The calm before the storm. Then Anakin’s second sight kicked in and he saw one of the figures behind him draw a blaster and fire a shot in the small of his back, as the one next to him aimed at his neck and the one above tried to pin him by shots on both his sides. They planned to deny him any chance of dodging their attack, by firing at the right places and being perfectly synchronized. He couldn’t go low, he couldn’t go on the sides. He could only go up, and with his armor they wouldn’t expect him to. They were good. He was better.

The moment the shots were actually fired, he’d already seen where they would land. With a backflip, he dodged the four bolts. He landed facing the two assailants coming from the alley, and their surprise at the speed and fluidity of his movements gave him the time to draw his own blaster. With a perfectly aimed shot, he caught the hand of the tallest one, making them yelp in pain and drop their weapon, then quickly turn on himself to avoid the bolts coming from the two others. They fired so fast that Anakin had no choice but to simply dodge, and he could feel their frustration in the Force, as well as their incredulity. He was avoiding their bolts as if he was dancing, knowing exactly where to go and when to move. The tallest one was on him before he could stop him and Anakin parried the vibroblade with his right gauntlet. They engaged in a hand-to-hand fight that left no room for the others to fire. His opponent was good, Anakin had to admit. Strong and fast, and with perfect technique. Had Anakin not been gifted with second sight and spent a whole year practicing every day to be in perfect physical condition, he would have been in trouble. Behind him, he felt the funambulist land lightly on the floor of the street, abandoning their now useless high-ground. Not liking to be surrounded like this, Anakin grabbed his opponent’s arm, twisted it while he turned on himself and fliped the man above his back, using his momentum to throw him on the one still standing at the entrance of the alley. They collided brutally and collapsed on themselves. They were quick to rise again, though.

“You know, I’m sure if you ask nicely, Grakkus will still have a job for you. Like mopping the floor,” Anakin taunted.

“We don’t care about that,” spat the funambulist, her voice dripping with venom. Anakin saw her clearly in the dim light for the first time. She kept her two blasters aimed at him, waiting for him to give her a reason to shoot. She was Twi’lek, in her early twenties no doubt, with green skin and golden eyes, and a murderous aura. Her face was vaguely familiar and Anakin felt like he’d seen her before. “You killed Sergei. And we’re gonna kill you for it !”

So it was a personal vendetta. He killed their friend and they wanted revenge. He knew that this murder would have more than one consequences. 

The one he just threw back several meters told the two others as he picked his blaster up:

“ He’s not trying to kill us. Unexpected. ” 

Anakin hadn’t expected to hear Huparimar and it disturbed him more than he’d like. Fortunately, he managed to hide his surprise, and the Twi’lek replied sharply:

“ Who cares, just take him out. ”

The one standing beside the tallest one, and who seemed to be Nautolan, spoke in a deep female voice:

“ Keep him occupied, I’ll stun him with a dart. There’s a weakness in his armor right by his right hip, above the belt. ”

Anakin turned his head to her and reflexively moved his hand to cover the spot she just mentioned. Which was his biggest mistake. For he had just shown he understood them. Only slaves spoke Huparimar. He had killed a man he now knew for sure was or had been one. Which made him al’runa , a Dust Eater, a cannibal, feasting on the flesh of his people for his own gain. Masters, the slaves feared and despised, but al’runa , that they truly hated ! And Anakin had just revealed himself as one... 

The atmosphere in the alley shifted instantly and Anakin didn’t need to see the faces of his attackers to feel the waves of pure hatred that radiated from them. The Force was absorbing it like paper with water, turning it heavy, dark and bitter. Part of Anakin recoiled at the sensation while another, not as deep as he thought he’d buried it, was moaning with pleasure from this cold velvety touch against his mind. The fact that those three negative feelings were directed entirely toward him made it even sweeter. He suddenly felt like a drug addict who got his first dose after months of rehab. It made him dizzy and feeling sick. Which made it hard to escape the combined attack of his opponents. Now more motivated than ever to see him dead in the gutter, the tallest rushed toward him while the Nautolan showered him with blaster bolts. He side-step to avoid the tall one then back, hoping to put some distance between them, but the Twi’lek jumped on him with a furious yell. She managed to land astride one of his shoulders, kept his arm down with her leg and forced his head back with one hand while she raised a vibroblade, perfectly angled to stab his carotid. He violently pushed himself against the wall while blocking her blow with his prosthetic hand. The Twi’lek yelped at the impact but held on, trying to get out of his mechanical grip. He went for another hit, but the Nautolan fired a round of shot on the same spot on his knee and, despite his armor, Anakin felt his leg starting to fall under him. At the same moment, the tall one dealt a powerful blow in his sternum, which left him breathless. 

He was unbalanced both on his footing and in his mind. If he kept going like this, they would indeed kill him.

“ Oopalli !” the Twi’lek snarled in his ear.

Traitor.

She had no idea !

Looking up at her, he caught her eyes and was once more gripped by the feeling of familiarity. He knew her. He could bet his newly restored body, he knew her...And she was about to slice his throat.

Using the Force as a boost, he jerked his knee in the tall one’s stomach, making him stumble back a few meters, then tug hard on the Twi’lek’s arm and threw her off his shoulder. He straightened but the Force blared in his ears in warning. He dodge the dart the Nautolan shot at him, but his concentration was shaggy and he failed to see in time the second one she’d fired right after the first. It lodged itself right above his belt, like she had warned. Instantly, strong shocks of electricity ran through him, amplified by the rain falling heavily on him, running on all his body. 

The pain was immediate, merciless and all too familiar. Convulsions shook his body and he fell hands and knees on the floor, unable to stand. He couldn’t catch his breath, his lunges compulsively compressing. Thousands of burning needles were piercing his skin and muscles, setting his nerves ablaze, blinding him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t stand, couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. He couldn’t stand it. He was back on the Death Star, only there was no reactor shaft to throw the agony into. He could hear Palpatine’s sadistic laugh and his master’s maniac joy at making him suffer washed over him, breaking him.

He screamed his rage like an animal backed into a corner and the sound shook the buildings as the Force responded to it. The dart causing him pain exploded in tiny shards. The ground around him shattered in a web of deep cracks, the rain drops froze in the air and his three assaillant were sent crashing on the walls with such strength all the air in their lunges got expelled and they fell to the ground like rag dolls. 

Blinded by his pain and his fury, Anakin rushed on the closest one. The Twi’lek. She was still dazed and trying to catch her breath. He grabbed her by the throat, squeezing it, and she tried weakly to loosen his hand as he lifted her from the ground. Pinning her against the wall, he raised his right hand, made a fist and brought it down in a blow that was guaranteed to destroy her temple and kill her. Her eyes filled with dread, and behind him he could feel the two others trying to rise and rush to save her. They wouldn’t make it.

Then the Nautolan scream, her voice vibrating with panic:

“Pala !”

Anakin froze on the spot, the name like a ghost he thought forever forgotten, snapping him back to reality like a whip. He looked at the Twi’lek. Her golden eyes, her green skin, the set of her jaw...Disbelief and horror settled over him as his assailants remained still, puzzled by his sudden change of behavior. Anakin couldn’t take his eyes off her, and finally her name fell of his lips like a plea:

“Pala ?”

Her brow knitted in confusion and Anakin released her and stepped back hastily, his legs wavering under him. She slid against the wall to the floor, coughing and massaging her throat, but her eyes never left him, as she tried to make sense of what just happened. The Nautolan came beside her, her blaster pointed at Anakin’s chest, while the tall one knelt beside Pala. Anakin could see now that he was a strongly built Zabrak, and he was looking at Pala with great concern. 

“You know this al’runa scum ?” asked the Nautolan.

“Do I ?” Pala replied, her voice dry.

Without giving it a second thought, Anakin raised his arms. The Nautolan first seemed to think it a gesture of aggression but realised that he was only taking his helmet off. The polished metal of the helmet clanged against the ruined metal of the ground, and the rain now streamed down Anakin’s face. They all stared at him and he saw in Pala’s eyes that she was trying to find traces of someone she might know in his features. She looked at his blond hairs in their messy bun, his short beard, scanned his weary eyes, the look in them too old for his age, the scar that crossed his right one. She tilted her head as she focused on their blue depths. Then realisation crept on her face. Her eyebrows slowly went up, her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She looked at him up and down, and bewilderment faded as her face couldn’t express any more clearly how utterly disgusted she felt.

“Anakin ?” she asked as if she couldn’t possibly associate the name with the man in front of her.

All Anakin could do was give one simple nod, pinned by the weight of her gaze and the judgement it casted. She gasped at the silent admission, as her mind accepted the truth of what she saw.

“Who is he ?” the Zabrak asked.

“Someone I thought I knew. Long ago,” she said with mortification.

“Pala, I can explain…” Anakin started.

But Pala had sprung on her legs and charged him, vibroblade finding its way to his throat with deadly precision and speed. He let her slam him against the opposite wall, and remained calm as she snarled so viciously at him he wouldn’t have been surprised if she tried to rip out his throat with her teeth.

“Explain ?” she spat. “Explain what ? How the kind little boy I grew up with turned into the worst kind of poodoo imaginable ? How the boy I thought of as one of my closest friends turned into an enemy ? How that seven years old slave risked the wrath of Gardula to help defenseless children escape a fate worse than death only to end up murdering one of my crew mates ? How could you kriffin’ explain to me how we ended up here ? What can possibly justify any of this ?!”

“It’s a cover, I…”

“A cover ?!” she yelled, pressing her vibroblade harder on his trachea, drawing blood. “You beheaded my friend for a cover ? A cover for what ?!”

“If you let me speak more than two words in a row, maybe I’ll be able to tell you,” Anakin snapped back, anger rising again.

“Don’t try sassing me,” Pala warned, pressing harder still, which sent Anakin at the end of his rope. In a movement so fast it seemed a blur, he disarmed her, pushed her away and crushed the vibroblade with the strength of his prosthetic. 

Pala looked baffled as Anakin casually threw the distorted shape of her blade on the ground.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be,” he pointed out. “So how about everyone take a deep breath and calm down before I end up doing something I’ll regret.”

Pala was about to bark at him again, but the Zabrak put a hand on her shoulder to hold her back, and looked at him thoroughly:

“From what I gather, Pala and you knew each-other as children, but I could swear I saw you somewhere too. What’s your name ? Just Anakin ?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin replied, glad he chose a dead end with absolutely zero security system.

The Nautolan’s eyes widened:

“Skywalker ? Wait...Aren’t you that Jedi general ? The fearless hero or something ?”

Anakin made a mockery of a little bow, and confusion tempered down Pala’s anger while the two others looked utterly at loss.

“Okay, that makes no sense !” said the Zabrak. “Why would the Jedi and Republic’s golden boy be here on Nar Shaddaa killing freedom fighters ?”

“Unless he’s no longer a Jedi,” the Nautolan wondered, pointing her blaster straight between his eyes. “Maybe he deserted, maybe he’s gone rogue, and the Republic doesn’t want the word to get out. Maybe he’s far from what they show on the HoloNet, and we’ll do everyone a favor putting him down.”

“A favor, that’s what you think ?” Anakin asked with a humorless grin.

“Dooku was a Jedi once, no ?” she said more than asked. “Look where he is now…”

Anakin sighed and used the Force to send all of their weapons flying in his direction. They tried to hold them back but failed. Anakin nudged the thermal detonator that rolled at his feet and said in a voice he wanted diplomatic but that came out blasé:

“I could snap your necks before you could move and therefore keep my cover intact. But I won’t. And we can stay here talking in circles but it won’t lead us anywhere. You want answers, and you deserve them. But I can’t give them to you here. Not on Nar Shaddaa, I can’t take that risk.”

“So what, we just follow you to your ship so you can kill us ?” Pala asked.

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose and prepared a snarky response but the Zabrak bit him to it:

“He could kill us right here, Pala...Less trouble for him.”

“You come with us to our ship,” the Nautolan says. “Then we take a trip to the middle of nowhere and you spill the beans there.”

“I could agree with that, if not for one small detail: I’m not leaving my ship here ! I’m not leaving my best leverage with Grakkus unattended.”

“We couldn’t care less about your ship,” the Nautolan pointed out.

“You don’t, but you care about Sergei,” Anakin slapped back. “If I lose my ship, I lose my bargaining chip with Grakkus, and in that case, your friend died for nothing. I don’t believe you want that.”

That had the merit of shutting them up. Brushing his mind against theirs, Anakin felt they also grew more confused and in need of answers. Their murdering urges had receded replaced by perplexed curiosity. They looked between each-other for a moment, communicating without the need for words, which spoke highly of their shared trust and of how well they knew each-other. Finally, the Zabrak offered:

“You and I go get you ship, Pala and Yuve take ours. We leave the planet separately and we rendez-vous at coordinates of our choosing.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin agreed.

The Nautolan, Yuve he guessed, still looked inconfortable:

“You’re sure ? You’ll be fine alone with him ?”

The man nodded:

“Yes, that won’t be a problem.”

He then bowed to pick Anakin’s helmet up and handed it to him. Anakin accepted it with a nod and put it back on while the three others got their weapons back. Once they were fully equipped, the Zabrak came to stand beside Anakin and shoved the barrel of his blaster in his ribs.

“Not conspicuous at all,” Anakin sassed.

“I’ll put it back in its holster when we reach the more crowded streets. Name’s Tarek, by the way.”

“If it makes you feel any better. And I would like to say it is nice to meet you, Tarek, but…” 

Tarek pressed the barrel harder, but Anakin barely felt any aggression from him. He was intrigued, curious and grieving, but his anger had faded in the face of the new mystery that Anakin represented and what it might uncover. As they started walking down the narrow alley toward the wider streets, Anakin was a bit impressed by how this man managed his emotions. It was a bit Jedi-like, it seemed to come easy to him, and it was all that Anakin had always struggled to do. Still struggled to do, more times than he’d like. They soon reached the more populated sidewalks and Tarek hid his blaster away while asking Anakin in a whisper:

“Can I trust you not to mess it all up now ?”

“Would you believe me anyway if I said yes ?”  Anakin replied.

“I would,” Tarek answered.

That took Anakin aback, and he could feel the Zabrak meant it. He was growing as intrigued by this man as Tarek was intrigued by him.

“You can trust me,” Anakin said, meaning every word too.

He heard Pala sneared beside him, and was once more irritated. 

“That’s good enough for me,” Tarek said. “We split up here. Yuve, send me the rendez-vous’ coordinates when you reach the ship. See you there.”

Yuve nodded, kissed Tarek cheek and forced Pala to follow her by grabbing her arm. The Twi’lek murderous glare didn’t leave Anakin until they disappeared around a corner.

“Lead the way,” Tarek asked.

They were quick to get to the New Dawn ’s docking bay, and Tarek let out a whistle of admiration when he saw the ship:

“That is quite a ship. No wonder Grakkus is willing to make deals with you. Must have required one hell of an upgrade to be flight fitting though, and a lot of work.”

“About a year, with limited available parts,” Anakin admitted.

“Why not go for something...newer ? I mean, I admire the commitment, but surely there are more practical options.”

“At hand at the moment, not a single one. And I sure did not work so hard on it to let it take the dust in a hangar.”

As they boarded, Tarek kept looking around with an appraising look, commenting sometimes. Anakin understood that the man knew his share about ships, and the awkward small talk soon shifted into an engaging conversation between two specialists. When Tarek noted the absence of an astromec, Anakin was reminded of R2, and a pinch in his heart made him long for the droid. He wondered again what Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had done with him, hoping they’d kept him close, so that his old partner would be there when he returned to the Temple. He knew R2 had been a faithful companion to both Luke and Leia, and he missed how easily they worked together. And an astromec would be indeed welcome aboard the New Dawn .

As they stepped into the cockpit, Anakin stopped and asked:

“Did you get the coordinates ?”

Tarek checked the portable terminal on his left arm and nodded.

“Would you rather pilot ?” Anakin offered.

“It’s your ship,” Tarek said matter-of-factly.

“Not afraid I will pull out some stun, kill you, disappear and be done with you all ?”

“If you want to kill me, piloting or not won’t change a thing. It’s your ship, you know it, I don’t, there could be hundreds of things hidden here you could use to get rid of me without having to put your hands on the controls. And even if you killed me, you wouldn’t escape Pala and Yuve eternally. You still have business with Grakkus, important enough that it requires my friend’s death, so you’ll go back on Nar Shaddaa eventually.”

So he truly wasn’t just a tall mass of well defined muscles. He was clever as well. Anakin’s lips curled into a small smile, and he gestured for Tarek to take the copilot’s chair. The Zabrak entered the coordinates into the navicomputer and Anakin started the engines. It wouldn’t take long to get there with lightspeed, only a couple of hours. Obviously, the two women didn’t want to leave their crewmate alone with him for too long. Yet the spot they chose was isolated and away from trade routes. They left nothing to chance. Were they not determined to end Anakin’s life, he would have loved working with them. 

As soon as they left the moon’s atmosphere, Anakin took his helmet off again, and went into hyperspace. He then turned to Tarek:

“Hungry ?”

The question startled the zabrak enough to make him do a double take. It was certainly the last thing he expected Anakin to ask.

“Hum...actually, yes, a little,” he ended up blurting out.

Anakin rose and led him to the galey, took two fresh rations and handed one to Tarek.

“Caf or tea ?”

Tarek raised eyebrows at him, surprised once again:

“It’s not because we are implicitly threatening each-other that we can’t be civil,” Anakin said, his voice nonchalant. His mother and the Jedi had always insisted on good manners, and Sidious had repeated often enough that, as one of the most recognizable faces of the Empire, he had to have manners. Murdering, threatening and torturing was fine, but he drew the line at curse words.

“If it comes without poison, then caf,” Tarek said, not without mirth in his eyes. 

Anakin started the caf machine, and while he put a cup in front of him, Tarek asked:

“How did you and Pala get to know each other ?”

Right, the gundark in the room...Anakin got the tea out of the cupboard and put water to boil before he answered.

“We grew up together on Tatooine,” Anakin explained. “We were both owned by Gardulla, then she was bought by Madam Vansitt, while I later got owned with my mother by a junk dealer. We were both still in Mos Espa, with another friend of ours. We were very close. Did she tell you about her childhood and how she escaped Tatooine ?”

Tarek nodded while Anakin poured the hot caf in his cup. Sensing that Tarek would rather hear him talk about it so he could confirm it thanks to what he already knew from Pala, Anakin continued:

“When Gardulla got her hands on a group of Ghostling children, the two of us, and our friends, conspired to free them. One of us got killed and others got captured and sentenced to death by Gardulla. But we got help, and Pala escaped the planet with the children and another of our friends.”

“Yes, Dorn. And for you to understand her reaction toward you, I think you must know what became of him.”

Anakin sat across Tarek. During his younger years, he had often wondered what had happened to his two friends and the Ghostlings, to finally forget most about them once in adulthood, too busy to bury any part of his past under molting lava. 

“After Tatooine, they helped the Ghostling to get back to their world, then they tried to find safety for themselves. They spend some time inside the system of the Republic’s support for homeless children once they got inside the Republic’s border. They managed to stay together for some years in children’s homes but were forced to illegally work to get some money, because what the Republic provided wasn’t enough. There were thousands of kids in the same situation, so they could only manage the strict minimum. So Pala and Dorn needed money of their own if they wanted to be able to make a future and a better life for themselves. They stay connected to the former slaves’ network, so they could find decent places to work. But it was hard anyway. Pala relied a lot on the network. She was well trained by the Charm Academy, and she’s cunning. And mostly she kept hope that life could be better. Would be better. That kept her head above water. And she thought it was the same for Dorn. But your selfless friend turned al’runa . He found a good opportunity for work without telling Pala. And he needed more money than he had to leave the planet. So he stole all Pala’s savings and abandoned her. She was devastated when she found both him and her money gone. It didn’t take her long to understand that he’d stolen her hope for a better future to buy himself one. They must have been thirteen...We found her a year later. She had wormed her way inside the household of a wealthy merchant of Stewjon. In a few months she had got her hands on plenty of dirty secrets that she used to blackmail the merchant without him even knowing it was her, therefore stealing from him a good sum of money, until he found out the truth. We helped her escape, understood how good she was at her craft and decided to offer her a place as a crewmate. Two years later again, and we found Dorn. She’d never stopped looking for him, to get her money back and explanation on how he could’ve betrayed her like that. He was now head of security of a Pyke liaison on Kessel. He helped smuggle spice and bring in new slaves for the mines.”

Anakin could hardly believe that. This did not fit the boy he remembered. His friend had been crafty, yes, but selfless enough to risk the wrath of two Hutts to help helpless children. How could he possibly have fallen so far as becoming a slaver himself ? Then, the sheer hypocrisy of the thought hit him hard. Who was he to talk and pass judgement ? Hadn’t he just followed the same path, going from kind and altruistic child to one of the worst monsters in the galaxy ? He had learned that being born kind wasn’t the assurance of staying so. Kindness, like everything, needed to be nurtured, and chosen, again and again and again. Being born kind wasn’t a shield against bad choices, nor was it an excuse for them. 

“I guess things didn’t go well…” he said darkly.

Tarek sneared just as cheerily as Anakin’s tone:

“That’s one way to put it…Pala just wanted to know: why ? Why did he betray her and turn against his own kind ? He all but spat at her that she wasn’t his kind. He wasn’t a slave anymore and he refused to live dwelling on the past in the name of some pain they shared once in their life. He said that former slaves were morons too wrapped up in their past that they sabotage themselves when it comes to make a future, that no one ever look after him so its was time that he did that for himself, and asked why he should feel sorry if he crushed a few lives along the way, when no one had felt sorry for him. It was pure survival, he said. To eat or be eaten. Only the strong survive in this galaxy, and that it was foolish to delude ourselves otherwise. He did what was best for him, and even if he had felt bad about betraying Pala, he didn’t regret it. Pala shot him between the eyes before he could shut up.”

Well, that explained the virulence of Pala’s reaction to finding out another of her childhood friends had turned al’runa . Anakin couldn’t blame her. During his first life, he would have probably reacted the same. Worse, even. 

“Dorn had a point of course,” Tarek pointed out after a sip of caf.

It drew Anakin out of his thoughts, and he looked puzzled:

“Do you agree with him ?” he asked, not wanting to reveal that, despite all this time and all his efforts, he couldn’t help but see the logic behind those statements. 

“Well I don’t agree, but I see where he came from. So many people are left to themselves in this galaxy that they inevitably resort to extreme measures. The Republic might mean well, but even within its borders things aren’t pretty. I don’t claim to have all the answers but the system clearly isn’t working anymore. We’re not stuck in this war for no reason. But I can’t excuse Dorn choices. Had he been trying to make amends I would have, but he was set in his way. I understand what pushed him to make those choices, but if we all start putting ourselves above anything else, then the galaxy won’t be the better for it. At some point, someone somewhere has to show some kindness. Otherwise, all of this” he made a large gesture as if to encompass the whole galaxy “would truly be unbearable.”

Anakin was rendered speechless. He repeated this last sentence in his mind, and it came out with Luke’s voice. Dorn choices seemed logical but they were heartless, and Luke had reminded him that having a heart was stronger than the cold logic. The harder path, but the right path.

“So, you better have a good explanation for all this shit,” Tarek continued, unaware of Anakin's deeply moved thoughts. “‘Cause if you don’t, I’ll kill you myself.”

Was his explanation good ? Was the greater picture truly enough to shut their anger and justify their friend’s death ? How really different from Dorn was he ? I can’t excuse Dorn choices. Had he been trying to make amends I would have, but he was set in his way . Anakin was trying to make amends. But so far it had cost one death already, so how good were those amends anyway ? Anakin reflected upon what he would say to them, and all he could see was that the choices he’d made were logical and heartless. He wasn't really worthy of Tarek, Pala and Yuve’s forgiveness, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it either. Qui-Gon would have probably said something very wise about what we want and what we deserve…

So he made a choice, probably not a good one, a certainly not a logical one, but one with heart:

“Deal.”

They arrived at the rendezvous point about an hour later. After dropping out of hyperspace, Anakin flawlessly led them through a thin asteroid field toward one of the biggest ones. Hidden within the colossus’ shadow, another ship was already waiting, engine shut down but position secured within the asteroid low gravity field. It was a light freighter model that was a bit outdated but in perfect condition, with blue stripes along the hulk. Anakin brought them about and Tarek hailed the ship:

“ Blue Sun ? Dad’s home ! Prepare the airlock.”

Anakin positioned the New Dawn and once the two ships were safely connected, killed the engines.

“You named your ship Blue Sun ?” Anakin asked, not missing the symbolic. Blue was the color of most skies and sky was the promise of freedom. The sun was the fire burning in a slave’s hurt, what kept them going despite it all. On Tatooine there was a saying that the slaves there were the most resilient because two suns meant twice as much fire in their heart. So a blue sun was the epitome of freedom. “What are you and your crew doing exactly ? You are definitely part of an anti-slavery movement, but there’s more, right ?”

“We smuggle and transport supplies and cargo to safe outpost for running slaves, we establish connexions between newly freed one with network specialized in the rehabilitation of slaves, we serve as carrier for informations that serve in various operations to free slaves...We are a gear in a giant machine, one that no one see, because they don’t want to see, or don’t want to acknowledge that it can be here. Yuve and I worked with Jedi twice, before Pala joined us. We may have flown toward blue skies, but we don’t forget those still crawling in the dust.”

“Which Jedi did you work with ?”

“One was some time ago, when Yuve and I just met, he was a Rodian, Master Quiebet. Won’t forget him anytime soon, I owe him my own freedom ! The other one was before the war, a member of your Council now I believe, Depa Billaba.”

A smile found its way on Anakin’s lips again. He had never heard of Master Quiebet, but Master Billaba had been known within the Order to take part in such missions. 

They crossed the airlock side by side, and found the two women waiting for them, weapons drawn. Tarek immediately said:

“No need for that. Anakin has been nothing but good mannered, let’s return the favor. Now, we obviously have a lot to talk about, so how about you make us some caf -tea for Anakin- and we get comfortable in the common area ?”

Pala looked at her crewmate with sceptical eyes, then eyed him up and down. As the journey with Tarek had been peaceful, his hostility had dropped down to almost zero, so his stance was much more relaxed. She looked him in the eyes, and he had the distinct feeling she was once again searching for the little boy with whom she sat on the roofs to eat pallies while the suns set. She sighed slightly and her shoulders dropped just an inch, but didn’t object and headed back inside the ship. Tarek followed and gently pushed Anakin ahead.

They were soon all seated on the booth seat’s tarnished leather, their cups on the dejarik table. The three crew members sat slightly on the left, close to each other, which left Anakin alone, and it looked more than ever like a trial. 

“So, we’re no longer on Nar Shaddaa and your ship is secured,” Pala said. “So start talking.”

Anakin reached within the layers of his armor, in a safe and hidden compartment next to his heart, and put on the table the small transparisteel case containing the clone’s control chip.

“Do you know what this is ?” he asked as a rhetorical question. 

They all indicated that they didn’t, so Anakin carried on:

“It’s a behavioral modification biochip that has been implanted within each and every single clone trooper of the Grand Army of the Republic at the third stage of embryonic development, and they are encoded with the 150 Contingency Orders of the GAR. Some of those orders are actually good, such as the contingencies to detain the Chancellor should he be found unfit for office, or urgency orders that can be applied on the battlefield to save lives. But they also contain orders such as the systematic elimination of civilian population or the eradication of the Jedi Order. The Kaminoean have presented this chip as a way to make the clones less independent and aggressive than the template, but once they are activated they take over the clone free-will and override their brain structure to ensure that the order is followed without question. It has been found out that Count Dooku, under an alias, was the one who helped create the clone army and had the chip implanted in the clones, which would turn the Republic’s entire army against it. The only person who could work on those chips to find a way to massively deactivate or remove them without the Kaminoeans or Dooku’s knowledge is Oram Menbi, the slave scientist who created Grakkus’ legs.”

As he talk, he could see Tarek and Yuve’s face slowly drop and their eyes widen. Pala didn’t seem to grasp the full extent of what he was presenting, but the simple fact that a piece of technology could erase one’s ability to make their own choice and turn them into droids had clearly shocked her the most.

“Are you saying that the leader of the Separatists created an army for the Republic years before the war actually happened ?” Yuve summarised. “And he did so while making sure he could turn such an army against the Republic ?”

Anakin nodded. 

“That doesn’t make any sense…” Pala said.

They stared at him intently, waiting for him to make sense, but Anakin remained quiet. To make sense would mean to tell them the whole truth about the Grand Plan, and he wasn’t comfortable letting so much sensible information get out. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust the Blue Sun ’s crew or not and he couldn’t take the risk of Sidious or Tyranus getting word of someone knowing this much about their machinations. But he was reminded of his mentors, and how they had explained how his determination to always do everything on his own was much more of a flaw than he’d realised. If he told them the truth, he could get their help in retrieving Silman and perhaps more. He searched within the Force for guidance, and if it remained silent, he still felt the slight nudge toward the three people sitting in front of him. Having allies couldn’t hurt…

So he took a long sip of his tea, braced himself, and told them everything. The Sith. Darth Plagueis. The true identity of Darth Sidious. The GAR foundings and the Kaminoeans’ complicity. He talked, and talked, with them interrupting him sometimes to ask questions. The last drops of caf and tea had long dried at the bottom of their cups when Anakin finally stopped talking, feeling more exposed and vulnerable, as they became the first regular mortals to know so much about one of the galaxy’s most well hidden plot. 

Yuve bolted to her feet and started to pace the empty space by the booth seat. 

“So your plan is to get close to Grakkus, get Oram free, have him work on the chips outside of both the Republic and CSI’s knowledge, get the clones free of it and then once the danger is clear, move against the Chancellor ?” Pala wanted clarified.

“In the main lines, yes. I still have to get the proper Senators in the loop, then the Jedi, break Palpatine’s propaganda and influence, expose Dooku, all the while fighting a war…”

“And that’s why you killed Sergei ? Because it was the fastest and surest way to get close to Grakkus ?” Pala asked again.

“Yes.” Anakin simply replied. He was aware that no excuse he could formulate would make up for their friend’s death.

“Do you have any proof ?” Yuve inquired as she kept pacing. 

“Not yet, but Grakkus has sent me to Oba Diah to retrieve a stolen cargo. The Force is with me, for I needed to go there to…”

“...get Silman, the former Chancellor’s personal aide who was with Sifo-Dyas when he died,” Tarek completed.

The more Anakin interacted with the man, the more he liked him. He hadn’t missed a bit and despite the amount of information Anakin had dropped on them, hadn’t lost his footing and followed Anakin’s logic.

“Once I have him, I can start building my case against the Grand Plan. He will have a lot of valuable information and is a capital witness. He will need some time though, as captivity will not have been kind on his mind.”

“Do you have a contingency for that too ?” Yuva asked.

He did. He had planned to bring Silman to the Father and Qui-Gon and let them work their magic on the man’s mind while he was away working to free Menbi. 

“So Sergei was the price to pay for all of this to…” Pala started but was unable to finish her sentence. 

“Why should we believe you ?” Yuve barked angrily. “Why should we believe any of this ? Why should we believe in some sort of galactic conspiracy and let you go free ?”

“If he wanted to lie I dare think he would have tried a more believable lie,” Tarek said, his voice still calm, both hands around his cup.

“But that’s the thing ! This lie is so outrageously unbelievable that you gotta think it’s true, right ? ‘Cause no one would spin a tale like that if it wasn’t real.”

Yuve was now biting her nails as she paced.

“Darling, hurting the floor won’t help,” Tarek pointed out.

The three of them started to argue between themselves, and Anakin gave them the time. They deserved as much. While they did, Anakin finally took a good, deep look at them. 

Yuve was in her fifties and she was beautiful. Her coloring was unusual for a Nautolan, her skin a soft cream color while patches and spots of dark red formed delicate patterns on her body. Her clothes were loose and did not match, as if she was trying to make herself look ugly. It didn’t work. Beauty was the curse of the slave. It wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of life she had before freedom. Tarek had the strong build and the calloused hands of a fighter, scars of various shapes and sizes poking from his clothes. The wrinkles around his eyes gave solemnity to his light brown gaze. They all shared this look he had seen each time he had faced a mirror, the look that all children of the Dust shared, telling that they'd seen too much. But there was something in their gaze that Anakin didn’t remember inside his own, and that he could place, couldn’t name.

“How did you discover all of this ?” Tarek asked him, which brought his attention back to the moment.

“That I cannot tell you,” he had to say. Time-travel on top of all this ? Yeah...they weren’t ready for that yet !

“How convenient…” Pala mumbled. 

“What were you working on before I killed Sergei ?” Anakin cut.

The change of subject took them by surprise and it took them a few seconds before they replied.

“Several freedom fighting organisations have come together to put an operation together,” Yuve finally explained. “We all worked to dismantle Grakkus’ fighting pit. The short term goal was to free as many fighting slaves as possible first to create an opening and prove that Grakkus isn’t untouchable, then to disrupt the proper functioning of the arena with sabotage. Grakkus would lose some of his credibility and reputation, and that would weaken him.”

As he’d never heard of such a thing ever happening in his first life, Anakin was saddened but not surprised to realise that it didn’t work, with or without his interference.

“How about we make a deal ?” Anakin offered, and he instantly got all of their attention.

“Come with me to Oba Diah. Help me free Silman and get Grakkus’ cargo. Once we have Silman, you’ll understand I speak the truth. In exchange, I will help you with the dismantling of Grakkus’ arena.”

A crazy idea started to form in his mind as he said the words. He needed Menbi, they wanted the arena gone, they had the support and resources of several anti-slavery organisation already...What if they went further than just Grakkus’ palace ? What if, together, they found a way to free as many as they could all around Nar Shaddaa ? Now, that would be a hard blow against the Hutts and send a huge message across the galaxy. One of hope for the slaves and one of doubt for everyone else.

“How can we trust you ?” Pala asked, but this time there was no anger in her voice. She still resented him, it could feel it ooze from her, but she also wanted to believe him. During the last hours he must have shown enough of his seven-years old self for her to allow herself to. She had been betrayed by one of her childhood friends before, she was fighting to protect those he had turned his back to, he had killed someone she obviously cared a lot for. The least he could do was to be honest and straightforward with her. He had cared for her, with Kitster she had been the closest thing he had from a sibling as a child.

He reached within his armor again, and drew out his lightsaber. All three tensed immediately at the sight, Tarek and Yuve even reached for their weapons, but Anakin simply put his saber on the table and pushed it toward Pala.

“You keep it. A Jedi lightsaber is his life. That is what my master taught me, and that is what I taught my Padawan. You keep it, and only give it back once we are back from Oba Diah, if what Silman offers is enough for you. If it is not, do what you want with it. Run me through with it if you want. It’s up to you.”

Pala looked at him in disbelief, then tentatively reached for the lightsaber’s hilt. Her hand hovered over it a moment then closed around it. She lifted it and looked at it more closely, turning it between her fingers.

“It’s heavier than it looks,” she said.

“Most responsibilities are,” Anakin said.

She turned to look at Yuve and Tarek, and the three of them seemed to reach an agreement.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll go to Oba Diah with you and we’ll get the truth. And while we get there, you and I are going to have a long talk about what happened to us during the past fifteen years.”

Anakin found himself smiling again. A real smile, a kind one. The authority in Pala’s voice when she wanted something hadn’t changed and he was glad for it. Reuniting with Kitster had been easy and smooth, but it would be much trickier with her. He had to earn her trust back, and, even if he still questioned whether he wanted her forgiveness or not, her trust, that he definitely wanted back.  

Anakin explained that Grakkus had provided him with the name of the ship that had been hijacked and the name of its captain, who was waiting on Formos for anyone Grakkus would send to retrieve his precious stolen cargo. Anakin had planned to meet with the captain and her crew there, then built a strategy with them to locate the stolen spice and steal it back, and use the crew of Grakkus smugglers as a diversion to free Silman unnoticed. But now he had three more people and another ship to consider in his plans, and it changed a lot of things. To his advantage. Getting to Silman without anyone being the wiser was already the part he considered as the easiest: he had the Force with him, and even if he knew better than to bet everything on this, it was a massive advantage, he could hack into the security system with his eyes closed and make sure the cameras and sensors detected nothing out of the ordinary, and he had surprisingly very well remembered the way to Silman’s cell. Now that two crews were available for the distraction, he didn’t worry too much about the “free Silman” part. 

He exposed his thoughts to the Blue Sun ’s crew, and they agreed that meeting with Grakkus’ men could only be a plus. They also agreed that leaving one ship behind would be the best. But it was harder to agree on which one.

“Sorry but I’d rather take my ship,” Yuve said. “Don’t take it wrong, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t really trust you all that much.”

“The crew will probably know that I’m coming by now,” Anakin contered, “and they will hear later, after the whole ordeal is done and well past, what kind of ship I fly and that this ship is precisely what pushed Grakkus to make business with me. It would seem strange to them, in retrospect, that I didn’t come with it. Plus, they will most likely have to give Grakkus a report of the whole affair. Such a simple detail won’t fail to catch his attention. Plus, if we’re to work together in the future to free slaves from Nar Shaddaa, best keep yourselves hidden as much as possible. If they see your ship and recognise it later, it could compromise both you and the whole operation. And by ricochet, my position at Grakkus’ side, and my own mission. It’s too much of a risk.”

“Those are all valid points, Yuve,” Pala said, her expression contrite, as if she was trying to apologise for siding with him.

“True, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving the Blue Sun behind either,” Tarek noticed with a pointed look at Anakin, which he took without complaint as he could very well empathise with the feeling.

“Is there somewhere you could leave it without problems ?” he asked, trying to sooth Yuve’s worries.

“One, but it’s on the other side of the galaxy and even if Grakkus gave you two weeks, we don’t have time for such a back and forth,” she replied with a frown.

“May I suggest ?”

Anakin then had the navicomputer of the main holoterminal calculate the time it would take to go to Atollon to show the crew. The terminal displayed the path between their position and the planet, indicating an amount of hours they could afford.

“Atollon ?” Pala said out loud as she read the name of the planet. “Never heard of it. Kinda lost, too. Lothal is the closest, and it’s not exactly a galaxy wide crossroad. What’s there ?”

“Coral, mostly. It’s devoid of civilization. It’s mainly animals, including Force-sensitive ones which can feel negative emotions and can be really dangerous, but it’s easy enough to protect yourself from them. The only one sapient life form there is a being tightly connected to the Force, and also one of my teachers. Your ship will be safe there, I promise.”

“One of your teachers ?” Yuve repeated. “You mean a Jedi ?”

“Not a Jedi, no. He aligns neither with them nor the Sith. He is the one in the middle.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Pala sighed. “But I guess we’ll have to get used to you speaking nonsense, right ?”

Anakin made a face as an apology, and it actually managed to get a smile from her. He was pleasantly surprised.

Yuve scanned her crewmate faces, but it was the better plan so she gave ground:

“Alright, to Atollon it is,” she accepted.

“Do you have any idea on how to retrieve the spice exactly yet ?” Tarek wondered.

“Not really, no,” Anakin admitted. “I don’t want to make too many plans without having all the data. As long as we haven’t met with the other crew and been on the ground, it is useless to speculate about the how and when. Plus, I’m a more “make-up-things-as-he-goes” kind of person.”

“Isn’t it a problem for a general in charge of legions ?” Tarek asked dryly. 

“It makes me unpredictable, and the enemy hates it.”

Tarek was obviously not sold on the idea, so he changed the subject:

“Let’s talk about our share, then.”

Pala and Yuve both turned to him with a startled expression. 

“We’re going to do part of the work, so we deserve part of the money,” Tarek continued, unmoved.

Yuve and Pala then turned to Anakin, daring him to refuse. He wasn’t hard to convince:

“It’s only fair. I have no use for the total amount of money I bartered with Grakkus. It won’t be a problem to give some away. On the contrary, this way I can provide most of the financial support for the joint operation.”

“That would be poetically ironic, wouldn’t it ?” Pala said with more joy than he’d heard from her since they had reunited. “Grakkus would pay for his undermining with his own money.”

They all shared an amused look, and Anakin felt some warmth spread within him at the brief complicity between the four of them. He’d missed it, he realised. The easy understanding of working with people he could trust to have his back and with whom he actually enjoyed working with. And who felt just the same. There had been no one like that within the Empire, and that level of familiarity had died with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and Rex. Once again, he found himself wishing he could be with them at this moment, only to hold back the thought as soon as he had it. He wasn’t ready yet. His emotions were still a roller-coaster when it came to the people he left behind, and his heart couldn’t take such a ride as it was now. He forced himself to focus back on the present, but his melancholy must have been plain on his face as the Blue Sun ’s crew were casting him a little perplexed looks. 

He scrambled for his composure, which wasn’t lost on either of them, and said a little bit harsher than he’d meant it:

“As it is decided, we should get underway.   I suppose you would rather spend the journey to Atollon with me on the New Dawn , Pala ? Because you are not yet inclined to leave me alone and before you suggested that we talk.”

They all raised eyebrows at his suddenly military clipped tone, but Pala confirmed that it was more or less the idea. With a curt nod, Anakin turned on his hills and headed back to the New Dawn , aware that those sudden changes in his mood and demeanor wasn’t going to help him win them over.

***

The journey to Atollon took about two days, and Pala was determined not to waste a single second of it, which she made very clear the moment she stepped foot in the New Dawn . Anakin warned her they were things he wasn’t allowed to tell her, so she would have to make do with it and not bother trying to unearth secrets from his tightly shut mouth. She understood easily enough, and Anakin had to give her credit for actually listening to him and to as he said. He could feel the maelstrom of emotions inside of her. She wasn’t sure what and who to believe anymore, and was set on getting enough of the truth to get a clearer picture, but she also realised quickly enough which barriers she wouldn’t be able to topple down. 

They spent the first part of the journey in the cockpit, and while Anakin led both the ships at sublight speed toward the closest hyperlane, she asked him about his life on Tatooine after she had left. There was no need for lie or half-truth here, so Anakin spoke at length about his life as Watto’s slave, about his mother, about pod racing and trading with the Jawa. He spoke of Kitster, and about how they had met again only a little while ago, how he had bought his freedom and started to build a good life for himself. Despite how guarded she was around him, at the mention of the last member of their trio and his recent success, she lit up like a sun, her face open and a bright smile on her lips and in her eyes. 

She then asked how he had gotten out of slavery and there, his own lips curled in a light smile as those memories where precious and gentle to him. He told her about how he had one day shepherded a lost Jedi and a lost Queen in his slave hovel, how that Jedi had bet his freedom in a pod race and how he had flown away to Coruscant, how small he had felt there, how out of place. He spoke about Naboo, it’s beauty and it’s waters, how Padmé had managed to unify both Naboo and Gungan, and how he had, inadvertently, made victory possible for them out of sheer luck. She laughed a lot during this tale, and for an hour, Anakin felt like they were children again. But then she asked about Shmi and Anakin’s joy melted away. She asked if it hadn’t been too hard to leave her behind, and Anakin said that he could barely put into words how hard it had been. To leave her, and worse, leave her still enslaved while he walked free.

“Couldn’t you Jedi free her as well ?” she wondered as they sat in the galey.

“Not right there,” Anakin explained. “He had no credits to buy a new hyperdrive, so a slave was out of the question. He tried to barter for her freedom alongside mine, but Watto would have none of it: if Qui-Gon wanted to bet, he had to choose between the two of us.”

“And once you were on Coruscant ? You can’t tell me the Jedi don’t have the funds to free one slave !”

Anakin pressed his lips together in a thin line. The subject still raised an old and festering feeling of resentment. He knew the answer, knew how complicated it was and how it had never been enough for him as he and his mother were both on the receiving end of the issue. 

“I’m not ready to speak about that,” he said honestly. “But slavery as a whole is not the Jedi’s fault, so let’s leave it at that.”

“Maybe it’s not their fault, but I don’t see them doing anything about it,” Pala said with an anger which he recognized all too well from his own past.

“Tarek told me Yuve and him had worked with Jedi before. They sure told you about it.”

“But nothing changes !”

“It’s not up to the Jedi to change the galaxy ! How could they, given how few of them they are. I too, when I first joined them, thought of them as those larger than life being capable of everything, but they’re not. They’re people, just like everyone else. Not god-like beings who can make the galaxy’s problem magically disappear. Problems like slavery are goverments problems to solve.”

Pala looked at him, clearly not convinced and with plenty more arguments to put on the table, but Anakin was not ready for this debate, not yet.

“Make no mistake, Pala. No matter how much I talk about this with my masters, leaving my mother in slavery will always be one thing I won’t forgive the Order for.”

Yes, Qui-Gon, the Father and Obi-Wan could say whatever they wanted about that, he would not be able to let this go. Once he came back to Coruscant, he knew he would have to shake the Order like a tree, and remind them that they had grown so detached they’d forgotten to care. They wanted so much to respect their Code and its principle they had forgotten to keep being connected to the world and their emotions. They were slowly turning into stones, despite all of their good will. 

“‘Masters’ and ‘they’,” Pala remarked.

Anakin raised an eyebrow at her.

“You speak about your masters and you talk about the Jedi as ‘they’ and not ‘us’. Aren’t you part of the Jedi ? And masters…”

“‘Master’ means something entirely different for the Jedi. It's the same as teacher or mentor, and it’s used to refer to one who achieved mastery of the ways of the Force,” Anakin said matter-of-factly, but he carried on with less coldness and more openness. “You have no idea how hard it was for me at first. To have to call them all masters. It was bitter on my tongue, and they didn’t realize it. They never had a former slave child join their ranks before. They didn’t really know how to handle me, I suppose. They must have thought that I would end up fitting into the mold. They didn’t want to train me at first. I was too old. It hurt me, back then. But now, as I look back, I think they were probably right.” 

“What would you have done ?” Pala asked. “If the Jedi hadn’t trained you ?”

Anakin had thought about it so many times in his first life, but not once since he’d come back. Taking time to consider, he then said:

“I would have returned to Tatooine to free my mother, I believe, maybe with Padmé’s help. She tried to free her when her terms as queen ended. Then I guess I would have gone to Naboo. It’s such a wonderful place, living there would have been sweet. And I was welcome there, at least. My mother would have found a job and I would have applied to an engineering program…” 

He smiled, lost in thought for a moment and in what if and what could have been. But reality caught up with him.

“But it wouldn’t have lasted. My existence was out in the open. Palpatine knew who I was and what I was. He would have found me eventually. And it would have been worse then, as I would have had no training at all.”

“Find you ? For what ?”

As he remained silent, she tapped the table with her finger, notifying him that he had better looking at her, and probed further with a voice devoid of sympathy:

“What did he do to you ?”

He ran his hand on his face in a tired gesture. He hadn’t expected Pala to challenge him so much. He had simply wished they would speak about their lives, hoped he could avoid all the darker parts he wasn’t ready to share, and be done with it. But Pala was as inquisitive as he remembered, and she pushed him to reexamine all of his beliefs. He felt like he was back during his mid-training days on Mortis, when he had finally managed to put things into perspective and untangle them from his feelings but was still struggling to find reasons as to why some of his choices were bad ones. Some of his instincts were still hardwired for questionable points of view and he felt like replaying all the arguments he’d had with his mentors. He was mentally drained and lost. 

“I...need to go meditate,” he said as he felt no longer able to face any other questions from her for the time being. “You are free to go wherever you want inside the ship. Take any cabin you like. We have about two days of travel ahead, so get comfortable.”

He left her in the galley without giving her the time to say anything and he could feel her displeasure at being ignored like this. As she rose to her feet with the clear intent of following him and not letting him get away so easily, he went straight for the captain’s cabin, locked the door shut, and let himself slide slowly against it until he sat on the floor. He was angry. Angry at the Jedi for sins they were blind too, at Pala for forcing him to shake the cauldron of his boiling emotions, at himself for still being a mess. He pushed himself on his legs again, forced his hand to unfasten the straps of his armor, which fell on the ground, piece after piece, until he was wearing nothing more than his shirt and his breeches. Removing the weight of the armor helped make his mind a bit lighter. Feeling more like a Jedi than a bounty hunter, he sat on the meditation chair, and welcomed the supernova.

Anakin came back to the world after what had felt like an eternity but was actually only a couple of hours. He could no longer tell time when he dived so deep into the Force as, when the supernova embraced him in all its burning absoluteness, time had no meaning anymore. Past, present and future blend in together in a bottomless ocean in which Anakin was still scared to set foot in, but could no longer resist the call. Once he let himself float aimlessly, letting his mind be carried by the steady flow, the fear melted and all that was left was the warmth Anakin had felt in the Netherworld. Coming out of it and back to consciousness always left him dizzy, but with his mind clearer and his heart at peace. It reminded him that there was something beyond the maze of problems within which he had to find his way.

Pala had chosen a cabin and settled there, fast asleep. Anakin was more moved than he’d care to admit that she had trusted him enough to lower her guard like this.  When she rose a few hours later, she found him sitting on the floor of the common area, watching the news on the HoloNet while working on a signal booster, its parts scattered all around him, his hands working fast and with keen precision, knowing instinctively what went where. She watched him silently for a long moment, and he didn’t comment, keeping his focus on his work and on what was said and shown on the screen. The HoloNet had become vital to him to stay tuned with what was going on around the galaxy as he was skirting on its edges. The defeat on Mon Cala worried him a great deal, and the building tensions it created within the Senate was too big of an opportunity for Sidious not to take. The situation on the planet was deteriorating rapidly, and despite the new king's admirable efforts to keep united what little of his people had fled with him, a strain was starting to grow between the refugees and some of their host planets, especially Naboo. Anakin didn’t like it one bit. The 501th also had taken a heavy blow in their last campaign, which bothered him greatly, and he did his best not to replay in his mind the images of Padmé standing in the Senate chamber with her injuries still fresh. So he tinkered.  He needed to try and see if he could get the HoloNet on Mortis, anyway.

“There’s caf in the galley, and fruits in the fridge if you want some breakfast,” he offered Pala after half an hour of her standing in the doorway, lurking like a nexu.

Her only reply was to show him the already half eaten Mortis’ moon peach. He hadn’t realised she had been moving at all, and was definitely impressed by her stealth. He noted it in a corner of his mind.

“You have weird fruits,” she said. “I never saw any of them.”

“They’re endemic,” Anakin simply replied.

“From where ? This one tastes really good, what is it ?”

“A moon peach. It only grows at night when the moon is full. The flowers are beautiful but deadly.”

“How so ?”

“You can make poison out of them. And they’re highly toxic if ingested raw. But the fruit they turn into is perfectly harmless.”

She said nothing to that, simply stared at him with narrow eyes. She took another big bite from the peach, then, without warning, she tossed it to him. He caught it with no problem but was still startled by the sudden movement. 

“Leave your mechanic for a while,” she ordered more than asked. “I have energy I need to spend. Come spar with me. I saw you have a nice training room. Let’s use it.”

It was no use arguing, and he was curious, so Anakin stood, and followed her to the lower deck where he had transformed the cargo hold into a small Jedi dojo. Heavily modified training dummies lined on the right wall while the left was covered from floor to ceiling with a variety of wooden weapons from different cultures, and he had padded half of the room’s floor with tatami. Pala took off her shoes before stepping on the them.

“It’s a fine ship you have, I’ve got to admit,” she said casually as she took her jacket off. “And I see you didn’t just work on making it flight-worthy. This is quite impressive,” she said as she pointed at the whole room. “Convenient that it’s just across the corridor from the medbay.”

Her smile showed teeth in a slightly menacing way. Anakin took his shoes and jacket off as well, and he saw her eyes trail the well defined muscles of his arms, revealed by his sleeveless shirt, her gaze lingering a little longer on his prosthetic. She reached inside one of the many pockets of her baggy trousers and held his lightsaber in front of her.

“I strongly advise against it,” Anakin said in all seriousness.

“Good, ‘cause neither one of us are going to use it,” she said as she threw it across the tatami like it was a piece of junk.

"Careful with this !” Anakin barked without raising his voice, but outrage and anger drying his tone harder than Tatooine’s twin suns.

“Oh, did that pissed you off ?” she asked mockingly. 

He looked at her darkly, but willed himself not to fall into her trap and attack head on without thinking. With a wry smile, she started to circle him. He let her, and closed his eyes, focusing on her presence within the Force, letting it sharpen his senses. He caught her first blow but the strength she put behind her kick was enough to force him to take a step back to keep his balance. He didn’t let go of her ankle, making her stay uncomfortably angled.

“Don’t do that ! Don’t use your Jedi tricks,” she said without anger but clearly not open to arguments.

“Those are no tricks. I’m not a party magician. And why shouldn’t I ?”

“Because it’s too easy. Yes, you could probably flatten my back against the floor anytime you want, but what’s the point ? You want to win ? Then work for it, the old fashion way. And I said I needed to spend energy. I won’t do any of that if you don’t play by those rules.”

To punctuate, she pushed on her leg, twisted her ankle and managed to turn on herself parallel to the floor, sending her free foot right in Anakin’s face. He evaded the blow with less ease than he’d thought, and his surprise gave her time to do a series of quick strikes he managed to parry but that had him on his back foot. When she saw he’d realised that, she paused, smiled mischievously at him and raised her hands to adopt an en garde position.

“Tarek taught me a lot in terms of fighting, but it’s Sergei who honed my skills,” she said both as a warning and a provocation.

Fine, he would play.

They engaged in a hand-to-hand combat that was as much an outlet for an excess of energy, and a meticulously calculated game of chess. They spoke plenty without saying a single word, as their undivided attention was turned on reading the other. Their fighting styles were completely different.  She was a draft, moving fast and capable of redirecting both her body and her strikes flawlessly. Her feet brushed against the tatami in a well perfected dance while her aim was always true. She had clearly worked hard on her fighting skills, and her style reflected her temper: cunning, precise, intangible and deadly. The perfect style for one raised to be a spy. 

He was more of an acrobat made of stone. He dodged and evaded her blows with agility, and never the way she expected it, but when he parried she could have as well hit a wall. His counterattacks were swift and unforgiving, his strength something she soon learned to apprehend. She quickly became wary of his prosthetic as well. 

First they went at it to vent their anger and their resentment, but the longer they went on, the more his hair stuck to his forehead and beads of sweat dropped from the tip of her nose, and the more it shifted from a fight to a dance, a partnership rather than an opposition. When she finally ran out of stamina, they simply stopped, neither one of them winner or loser.  He offered her some cold water and they sat in silence side by side on the tatami floor, their backs against the wall.

“What is he like ? The Chancellor, I mean,” Pala said after a while.

The question came out of nowhere and Anakin stared at her, puzzled.

“You summarised him as the worst scum in the galaxy but what is he like exactly ?”

Anakin wondered how he could put Palpatine's twisted and incredible mind into words. He tried his best.

“He is more clever than anyone ever gave him credit for. And gifted with a patience that sometimes feels limitless. Both those qualities together, and it gives him the ability to play the long game. He doesn’t let anything nor anyone stand in his way but he’s willing to take as much time as it needs to reach his goals and his opponents’ destruction. He understands the hearts of both individuals and the masses better than most, which is why it’s so easy for him to manipulate the Republic and people in general. He finds one’s desire and greatest strength and turns it into their biggest weakness. He twists all the potential of someone for good into capacity for the worst. Once he’s got his claw into something, he never lets go.”

Pala watched him intently, her mind clearly working fast and hard. 

“It’s personal for you. This whole mission, destroying this Grand Plan and him, it’s personal.”

It wasn’t a question. She had seen right through him. So he simply nodded, gaze lost into nothingness.

“What did he do to you ?” she asked again, but contrary to the first time she’d ask, he could hear kindness in her voice.

Anakin chuckled darkly. What had Palpatine done to him...other than what he would have ended doing to himself anyway ?

“When I think back on it, I wonder how I did not see it. But then I remind myself that I was a child at the time. When I first came to Coruscant, he didn’t even look twice at me. I was nothing, just a boy wearing slave rags that the Jedi kept dragging around like a stray pup. But then I destroyed the command ship during the Battle of Naboo and the Jedi openly spoke of my...outstanding abilities. He took me under his wing after that, looked after me, taught me things the Jedi didn’t. He offered an attentive ear and counsels. He was like a father to me...Someone I sometimes trusted more than the Jedi, who were my family. Only now, I know that he used me all along. He groomed me, to become his perfect puppet, so that when the time was right he could turn me against the Jedi. I was his slave without even realising it. Or too late.”

Pala’s expression was somber now, and if she clearly felt a lot about what Anakin had just said, she kept it to herself, only to offer reassurance:

“It’s not too late. You know now, you can make sure he doesn’t get his way.”

Of course she didn’t know that he had gotten his way and that it had already been too late. But she was also right to remind him that it was exactly why he was here now. At this point in time, there was still a chance to stop Palpatine, and that’s what he had to focus on. He also noticed that she had spoken like she didn’t doubt his story, and it brought back some warmth to his heart.

“I’m sorry about Sergei,” he said softly. “I really am. I don’t expect you to forgive me, nor do I believe I deserve to be forgiven, but I want you to know that.”

She said nothing but didn’t turn the apology down. 

“You said he taught you how to fight,” Anakin continued. “If so, he was a good teacher. Where did he learn himself ?”

She looked at him, unsure if she should answer or not.

“Would you tell me about him ?” Anakin asked, genuinely curious, and visibly offering an olive branch.

Pala kept staring at him, then a sad smile graced her features:

“It’s kind of crazy. When I look at you, sometimes I struggle to see the boy I used to know and other times it’s all I can see. But mostly I see that your eyes are much older than the rest of you, and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand you. Not anymore. But I’m willing to try. But if you turn on me, Palpatine will have some serious competition in the matter of ruining your life, am I clear ?”

“Crystal clear.”

Then she started to talk about Sergei, about how they met, how he lived and how he cared, how he fought and how he laughed. And Anakin felt his regret of his death grow deeper. He was right to believe Sergei had been a good man, one he could have worked with. But his blood was on his hands, and he had to live with it. In the back of his mind he could hear the Father’s voice telling him to let go of his guilt, but regarding this peculiar issue, he still had a long way to go.

“Why did you trust us with all of this ?” Pala asked when she was done talking about Sergei. “With this Grand Plan and all the rest. We’re certainly not the best people to share this with.”

“Why not ? You’re no Separatist nor part of the Republic. Palpatine has no idea you even exist and you can be of help. And…”

Pala looked him directly in the eyes with an open expression, inviting him to finish his sentence. So he swallow hard and continued:

“I have spent so much time trying to bury my past. Metaphorically and literally speaking. I was so afraid to face it ! I couldn’t stand the idea of being a failure and…I couldn’t forgive myself. Still can’t. And I couldn’t stand the idea that people who knew me at my best could forgive me after having seen me at my worst. But lately I have forced myself to confront my past, and it did me nothing but good, no matter how hard and painful it is. I found Kitster, and my step-family, and they help. I have learned that if I stop running away from it like a coward, I can actually find good things from my past. You are part of it. Part of my past. And I can’t do this alone. So, I hoped that…maybe…”

She looked at him for a long moment, her mind visibly swirling. But a soft smile ended up gracing her lips and her next words surprised him:

“I don’t think you are a coward. It takes courage to do all that you do, and confront us knowing we still partly want your guts on the floor for Sergei’s death. The whole galaxy knows you’re not a coward. The Hero Without Fear, remember ?”

He chuckled with so much irony he was surprised salt didn’t spontaneously generated in front of him:

“That is the greatest joke ever ! No fear ? I was afraid all the time ! All the time !”

“Afraid of what ?”

“Of failing. Failing the people I love, failing my men and the people I had to protect. Of not being enough. Of losing what I have, to the point I gripped all of it till my fingers were red with blood. Mine and other’s.”

She had no reply for this, so she simply stood up and offered her hand to raise him to his feet as well.

They spend the rest of the way to Atollon like this, circling each-other as they try to discover what kind of adult the child they once knew had grown into. They asked about the other’s life and both of them were still holding back. He couldn’t tell exactly what her reasons were, but he could already guess that her life between Tatooine and her meeting with the Blue Sun ’s crew hadn’t been easy, far from it. She said plainly that during these first years, freedom had been very different from what she’d imagined and that she had to do things to survive that she wasn’t proud of. And she didn’t want to linger on the subject with him. 

His reasons were clear. He had already let too much slip. He had to do careful twists in his story to hide the truth, he couldn’t tell her that he already knew how some things were going to go, and he couldn’t explain why he was truly as he was now. When she questioned him with genuine curiosity what life as a Jedi in general and his more precisely was like since he started living at the Temple, Anakin struggled. He told her about everything he had loved so much about being a Jedi, without telling her that it had been exactly what had made him unable to choose between this life and his wife for years. But he couldn’t speak about how isolated he had always felt within the Jedi Order, his loneliness as a young teenager and the friends he had made and lost because of his own mistakes. He couldn’t tell how the Jedi had tried to make him understand that he was one of them and they loved him as such but he had declined nearly every time because he couldn’t let go of what he once had. He couldn’t say that he had believed with all his heart in the Jedi teachings but had always refused to apply them to himself. So instead he spoke about how being a Jedi allowed him to help people, to see the galaxy and satisfy his desire for adventure. He told her about Ahsoka at length, how proud he was of her, how much of an amazing woman she was growing into, how kind and generous his Padawan was, but also strong and stubborn and cheeky. Pala smiled as words wouldn’t stop coming out of his mouth as he described his brilliant student. He then told her about the Temple itself, it’s high ceiling and large corridors always bathing in sunlight, the Room of Thousand Fountains that had long been a source of endless wonder in his first years, the hangars where he would spend hours elbow deep in motor oil, the dojos and training grounds where older Padawan would help the Initiates to practice their kata and the Masters would engage in friendly but impressive duels. He spoke about how the laughter of the children would ring out in the crèche and how the temple was specially built and equipped to accommodate both diurnal and nocturnal species or species from water worlds. And the more he talked, the more he realised how much he missed the place. He was completely paralized by the idea of going back and he knew it would take him time to readjust to life there, but the place had been his home for more than a decade and he just longed to be within its walls again. The Emperor had turned the place into an awful joke, and as Vader he had always felt like he was walking inside the dead carcass of a once lively animal as he roamed those halls. Melancholy and regret ended up stopping the flow of words, and Pala was observant enough to leave him be for the next couple of hours. 

When they finally got out of hyperspace near Atollon’s orbit, they had reached the conclusion that, even if a great deal was still left unsaid, what had been said had been done so with enough honesty to allow more than a truce, if not trust yet. She no longer side-eyed him every time he moved nor questioned his intentions every time words left his mouth. He no longer waited for the vibroblade between his ribs to wake him from his sleep.

As Anakin brought the ship closer to the planet, Pala scanned it with the sensors and confirmed that indeed, the planet was not inhabited by any sapient beings. And as they flew only a few klicks above the ground, the coral formations taking deep orange shades in the morning sun, Pala asked:

“How did you find that place ?”

“My teachers told me to come here, to meet with the Bendu. They believed he had things to teach me as well. They were right.”

“The Jedi know about this place ?” Pala said with surprise. “It doesn’t look like anyone is coming here, like ever.”

“They don’t, and no one does.” 

“Wait, the Jedi don’t know this planet ?” she repeated, visibly lost. “But you said your teachers told you to come here. Aren’t the Jedi your teachers ?”

“Not the only ones.”

She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but something in the clench of his jaw and the frown of his brow dissuaded her from doing so. 

Anakin landed the New Dawn not far from Bendu’s pit, beside a particularly thick coral formation within which hiding the Blue Sun would be easy. He knew there would be no danger of the ship getting damaged or stolen, but it was easy enough to guess it would reassure Yuve some more. The Blue Sun appeared in the sky as they both exited the New Dawn , glad to breath air that wasn’t recycled. Pala looked around and Anakin advised her not to wander far from the ship and therefore leave the radius of the sensor beacon.

“What would happen if I did ?” she probed with the attitude of someone who is going to do exactly what they were told not to just for the kick of it and to piss someone off.

“How fond are you of human-size angry spiders ?” Anakin said lightly, daring her to be a brat.

Her face dropped instantly and her eyes quickly started searching for anything moving between the coral and beyond the hills. A chuckle escaped him and he could see on her face that this simple thing made her wonder if he wasn’t just messing with her. She didn’t seem willing to find out but she still slapped his shoulder hard, which only widened his grin. 

The Blue Sun was soon above them and Pala made large gestures to indicate to Yuve that she could and should land the ship within the corals. As she did so and Yuve manoeuvre, Anakin expended his senses, searching for Bendu’s presence. It was definitely there but elusive. It didn’t seem like the creature was in the mood for visitors. Yuve’s voice brought his attention back to his new partners:

“Not bad for a hiding place,” she admitted with good humor. “Seems free enough from tourists.”

Anakin walked back to them and gave a nod as a salute.

“Was your trip okay ?” Tarek inquired, looking pointedly at Pala.

“It was fine,” she answered honestly, and it was all it took for Tarek to smile and Yuve’s shoulders to relax. 

“Are we all good to go then ?” Pala asked.

They were, and Anakin felt suddenly anxious at the idea of sharing the limited space of a ship for another two days with two more people. He had gotten so used to solitude, and the three of them would be the largest group of people he was with for longer than a few hours in a row ever since he came back. The trip with Pala had left him mentaly exhausted, now he had to do it again, plus extras. He had never been especially good at socialising, and the little he had in “people skill” was rusty. Groaning internally, he led them inside the New Dawn and when he closed the boarding ramp, he reminded himself that, after killing their crewmate and friend, the least he owed them was a little discomfort.

Chapter Text

Formos was like any planet whose economy relied entirely on trade, legal or not. It had the advantage of not being controlled by the Hutts, which at least took away from the scenery the endless bright neon lights and constant need for one to rub their wealth in any passerby’s face. The planet was trading on a thin line between official charter and smuggling, so the locals had to keep up appearances at least to a minimum. The streets were clean, people were less extravagant than on Nar Shaddaa, and with the never ending traffic of ships to and from the spaceport, the crowd was heterogeneous. No one was looking twice at anyone, so Anakin and Tarek went completely unnoticed in the bustling streets. 

During the trip, the four of them had discussed the skills of everyone to better plan for the mission. He then learned that Yuve was a pilot praised by her peers, who performed a few feats she could brag about if she chose so (the fact that she did not spoke volume about her), and a deft pickpocket and sharpshooter. Tarek was the muscles of the crew, and Anakin was told to never doubt his physical strength. But he was more than just the fighter built by years in the fighting pits. As he had shown before, he was very clever and perceptive, and specialised in slicing. The crew explained to him how they were often solicited by other crews or anti-slavery organisations so that Tarek could help crack any kind of safe, security systems, database and archives, and even bank accounts. Pala was of course an expert in spying and espionage. She could charm her way into anyone’s good grace, adopt the mask of a plethora of personas, and then get her hands on all of her target’s dirty secrets. She was a queen of stealth, which Anakin had already witnessed, and quite the acrobat, she allowed her to hide herself where people expected it the least and eavesdrop all she wanted. Between the four of them, they could make an unstoppable team.

Anakin’s military commander mind was already mapping all the possible ways he could put all of their skills into practice, use one to enhance the other, and how he could apply each of those to the situation at hand. By the time they’d finish telling him of their abilities, he already had several plans in place to get the spice back, and contingencies for each of them. He could also see new possibilities for the rest of his plan. They already knew more than most, and if he could get if not their trust then their cooperation, it could make some things much easier for him and gain him a lot of time he would otherwise have to waste on details, trivials but that he couldn’t escape.

“Could you slice into the Pyke’s archives ?” he asked Tarek.

“It would be a challenge,” Tarek admitted. “Cartels like those are tricky, which you can certainly understand. And it depends on what you are looking for in those archives. Not all parts of the system are protected the same way...What are you fishing for ?”

“Security footage. The problem is that they are more than a decade old.”

They all looked at him like he’d fried a fuse.

“That’s a rusted screw on Bracca !” Pala exclaimed. “Why would they keep something that old anyway.”

“Leverage,” Anakin replied without missing a beat. “They kept Silman alive for the same reason. The more they have to bargain, the more they can gain.”

“What would that footage show ?” Yuve questioned.

“The Pyke’s first meeting with Tyranus. It would certainly show Dooku’s face, and expose his involvement in Sifo-Dyas' death. Added to Silman’s testimony, and it’s one more huge stone on our side of the scale.”

“Well, it would take a time we definitely won’t have while planetside…” Tarek thought aloud. “But if we could plant one of my special worms within the system, I could slice it from the Blue Sun just fine. But it will take weeks, without doubt. Months even, maybe.”

Anakin was not especially optimistic on this to begin with.

“But you could do it ?” he wanted to confirm.

Tarek seemed to be making calculations in his mind, as his lips moved without a sound and his hands made some movement as if typing on a keyboard. He then looked at Anakin pensively, before saying:

“Yes. I could do it. You planned to slice into their security system to hide your presence in the detention block anyway. You can plant the worm then.”

“That can be done easily enough,” Anakin agreed. Then he felt Yuve's heavy gaze on him and turned to her. She had crossed her arms against her chest and eyes him intently. Catching his probing look, she said:

“That would imply working together for a great deal of time, and you seem to just assume we’d all be okay with this. As if there is no doubt at all that this is going to be the outcome. You don’t doubt one second that we could end up refusing.”

Anakin was willing to play cards on the table for this one, so he explained:

“Yes, I do. Because I know that I can prove to you that I speak the truth about this. I barely know any of you. Yes, that includes you too Pala,” he cut as he saw her ready to protest. “We may have been as close as siblings as children, but fifteen years is a very long time for someone to change completely. We need to get to know each-other again. So yes, even though I don’t know you, I can still tell you won’t turn your back and act like nothing’s wrong while knowing what you do. You fight to protect people, to protect slaves. The clones are among those, even if the Republic refuses to admit it. Can you look at me in the eyes and say that you are going to sit on your hands while the greatest slaver of all is turning human beings into mindless puppets to decimate the only force that can stand against him and do some good ?”

They looked between each-other, knowing he was right but not quite ready yet to admit it aloud.

“We can do a lot of good together, I can feel it. The more time I spend with you, the stronger I believe this. One of my teachers always says that there is no coincidence, only the will of the Force, and I’ve been through too many things not to share this tenet. Us meeting at this time is no accident.”

“No, you’re right, it is no accident. It’s due to you choosing to behead our friend,” Yuve said but only with a touch of bitterness in her voice.

“I don’t deny that,” he accepted grimly. “But I wonder if the chain of events it triggered wasn’t what the Force intended.”

“You speak of the Force as if it’s sentient,” Pala noticed. “Is it ?”

“I don’t think now is the best place and time to have a deep debate about the nature of the Force…” Anakin said with a little impatience. 

Pala raised her hand in a gesture of surrender.

“The deal is that you help us complete the operation you perturbed by killing Sergei anyway. So why not throw it in the mix as well ?” Yuve said more openly, as she had accepted the fact that, unless they decided to kill him, they would see a lot of each-other in the foreseeable future. “And he’s right !” she said to the two others. “We won’t stand back while millions are enslaved in the worst possible way when we have knowledge to do something about it.”

She then casted him a glance saying clearly that she knew he had them here and she hated it but was willing to roll with it. He tried to smooth her edges with a grateful smile, an open and honest one, and it worked, as her shoulder relaxed. His felt lighter too, as if a bit of weight had lifted off from them. He realised suddenly how much he had actually needed people he could delegate a bit of the workload to, some people he could trust to delegate some parts of his mission. He thanked the Force, and prayed it wasn’t another big mistake.

“So, do you have any idea on how to proceed with our current problem ?” Pala asked. “Stealing back this spice and breaking someone out of prison at the same time will be tricky, even with two crews.”

“I still need the intel that Grakkus’ people will deliver to formulate a valid plan, but I think we can already consider this plan of action: their crew will serve as bait to monopolise the Pyke’s attention, while you steal the spice, while I free Silman. I will work on the details once on Oba Diah.”

“Wait, we get to do your job ?” Yuve said in a half joking half sceptical tone. “Do we get all your money as well ?”

“I said I’ll work on the details.”

She made a scoffing noise while she shrugged, which rubbed Anakin the wrong way:

“I led entire armies to battle and won, and broke my fair share of blocades” he said coldly. “I think I can manage the theft of one spice cargo.”

Then Anakin had contacted Grakkus’ crew waiting for him there during the trip, and they had agreed on a rendezvous point at the docking bay of the crew’s ship docking bay. The Blue Sun ’s crew and him decided to send Tarek with him, as his morphology was the easiest to hide under a helmet. Anakin had lent him spare pieces he had crafted from the clone’s armor, added to some gear they had taken from the Blue Sun . They fitted perfectly the picture of two hunters on a job, so it wouldn’t raise questions they couldn’t shut down. Anakin appreciated how Tarek and him had easily slept into a working relationship untarnished by whatever personal feelings might linger between them. Tarek was capable of putting his emotions under lock and key to do what had to be done. They had rapidly developed a sort of professional respect, and if Tarek were to betray him, Anakin was convinced he would do so once the job was done. Until then, he would have his back. 

They arrived at the meeting place right on time. The heavy freighter casted a massive shadow over the bay, and a crew of five was waiting for them. As Anakin and Tarek stepped into the light of the spots directed toward the docking pit, all five members of the crew turned to them and Anakin studied them thoroughly. One male Quarren, one female Duros, two male Rattataki and a female Sullustan. They watched them getting closer and when they reach the ship’s shadow, the Sullustan hold her hand to stop them:

“Hold right there,” she ordered. “Bogan Ashla ?”

“In the flesh,” Anakin said as one spotlight reflected on his helmet directly into her face, making her squint. 

“And who’s he ?” she snapped. “I don’t remember Grakkus saying he was sending anyone with you.”

“I’m not with Grakkus,” Tarek said calmly. “I’m with him,” he added while pointing at Anakin.

“And I don’t remember Grakkus forbidding me to bring a plus one,” Anakin said, not holding back the sass. He had a reputation to make, after all.

The woman looked at Tarek from head to toe, then shrugged:

“Well, less money for you, but that’s your problem, not mine. As long as the job gets done, I don’t give a womp rat’s ass about it. Name’s Lenk’A, I’m the captain. Let’s sit and talk.”

She led them inside the ship and waited for everyone to be sitting on the large booth to introduce her crew while the Quarren, Icar, poured cheap alcohol in questionably clean glasses. The Rattataki were brothers, Gren and Aren, the Duros was named Kari. Lenk’A drank hers in one go, grabbed the bottle to serve herself another, then said darkly:

“I know we were supposed to decide how we would get the cargo those scumbags stole from me, and therefore Grakkus, so I won’t beat around the bush: there is no cargo to steal back anymore.”

“I beg your pardon ?” Anakin asked coldy, not liking already where this conversation was going to go.

“They divided my spice and either sold it or refined it !” Lenk’A spat, full of rage. “We are kriffed ! The boss is going to throw a temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums, and he’s going to have us all killed in plenty of creatively painful ways.”

The rest of her crew was looking grimly at their glasses, as if every single one of them considered seriously the idea of drowning themselves into it rather than face Grakkus. He felt Tarek sit back heavily beside him, defeated before he could even fight. But Anakin hadn’t gotten so far in life, for better or worse, by simply giving up before the first obstacle.

“Maybe not,” he said, a plan already coming together.

 Kari snorted so hard she almost spitted some of her drink on the table:

“And how exactly do you plan to save our skins ? Do you have a nice corner of the galaxy where we could disappear ?”

Well truth be told, yes, but he was certainly not going to tell them.

“I wasn’t thinking about running away.”

“Oh, so you plan to make our cargo magically appear back into our cargo hold ?” Aren mocked.

“Neither. Grakkus wants a cargo of spice and the Pyke have plenty. We can’t get yours back since it no longer exists, so it seems only fair if we stole one of theirs.”

Three of the six persons around him spat their drinks out, another choked on it and coughed hard, another froze in the middle of a movement to look at him as if he had completely lost all of his wits, and he could almost see Tarek’s bewildered expression through his otherwise perfectly opaque helmet. 

“We were planning on stealing from them anyway,” Anakin said without hiding the annoyance in his modulated voice. 

“Yeah, something that already belonged to us !” Lenk’A yelled. “This is different. Are you out of your mind ?”

“Let’s be fair, we will only take an equal amount, so the scales are even,” Anakin said, hoping it would reassure her, but it didn’t.

“And how do you plan to pull this off ?”

“Exactly like we would have for our cargo,” Anakin said curtly, slowly running out of patience. “Nothing has changed, so stop wetting yourselves. If you don’t have the stomach for it, then you are in the wrong line of business to start with.”

That calmed their exuberant disapproval, and Tarek tried to ease the atmosphere further back asking sounding confident:

“Let us hear your plan, please.”

“What we need is a distraction. We will split into three groups: one will break into the main security room and direct everything from there. That will be my job. I will slice into their security system and guide the group responsible for stealing the cargo to it, erase the security holo, take the defense down, etc...My associates…

“Associates ?!” Lenk’A cut. “There are more than this one ?”

“...which you don’t give a womp rat’s ass about...will be in charge of retrieving the spice. Your crew will be the final group, and you will be the diversion. You will go to the Pyke with a bargain offer from Grakkus. You will say that he is willing to negotiate for the spice that was stolen and buy us some time. Make sure not to end the conversation on any agreement that might later engage Grakkus into anything. It’s bluff, nothing more.”

“Why are we the bait and not your guys ?” Ari asked full of hostility.

“Because it would make a lovely kind of sense to send the crew from whom one stole once to barter terms of a deal meant to soften the blow. Call it twisted poetry. Plus they probably expect some kind of retaliation from you. My crew, they don’t know about. So if we get caught it could be completely unrelated, and they work for me, not for Grakkus directly.”

“They won’t buy it, though,” Icar said hesitantly. “They won’t believe that Grakkus is okay with showing them weakness.”

“They will doubt it, but they will also be too tempted by the image of Grakkus showing them his belly to turn you outright down.”

“You have the safest job,” Ari mumbled darkly. “You are not sticking your neck out in this, not at all. You just wait for us to do the job.”

“Yes, because successfully hiding the theft of one of the Pyke's precious cargo from their most secure room and without triggering any kind of alarm or defense mechanism that could get us all killed is of course the safest, easiest job. And without me to do that, we can’t steal a single grain of dust from Oba Diah.”

Some wanted to argue more, but Aren held up a hand:

“We have no better plan yet, let’s hear the rest.”

“The timing will have to be precisely calculated. Every team will have to do exactly as I say when I say it. Plan the rendezvous point for the three groups, plan our escape route... A single glitch in our coordination could end the entire operation and get us all captured or killed.”

He paused and got lost in thoughts, plans and preparations crowding his mind, and he felt a sense of overstimulation and anticipation that he had long forgotten. The other watched him as if they could all see the gears turning inside his brain.

“Do you have anything in this ship that officially ties you to Grakkus ?” he asked. “A sigil, or a contract, anything ?”

“Well no, not really, but they boarded our ship to steal from us, so those bastards will be able to identify us and confirm our identities,” Lenk’A said.

“Good. Then you’ll send a holo to minister Lom. You’ll start by stating your identity and who you work for. The main message will be something along these lines: Grakkus is of course furious about the theft and is willing to negotiate to get it back. He’s ready to pay a heavy sum and to wipe the slate clean if the Pykes agree to a mutually beneficial partnership. He recognises that the Pykes are more valuable as allies than enemies, because anyone willing and able to steal from a Hutt and get away with it is someone worth dealing with. Of course if anyone asks him about it he will deny it vehemently. But wouldn’t it be just nice to work together ?  Grakkus is getting tired of working under the shadow of the Hutt Cartel and fails to see why he should play lackey for people with clearly less skills and ambition than him. If the Pykes and him decided on an alliance, they could overshadow the Hutts, and Grakkus could be independant. Nar Shaddaa would be his alone, and the Pykes would be welcome to trade their spice there at...mutually advantageous rates. He’s sending you as messengers as a gesture of good will, and to disguise those negotiations as payback for the theft of the cargo.”

They watched him, impressed and unsure. He could understand, it was an ambitious gamble and sounded both like genius and madness. 

“I can write something down for you to say,” he said with a touch of condescension. “We send the holo from here, and if they accept, it gives at least this ship and crew a legitimate reason to go to Oba Diah. My crew will find a way to land without raising questions.”

“If they accept and that we are to keep their attention by doing a fake bargain, I don’t think any of us will be able to negotiate anything,” Aren said. “We don’t know enough, we won’t be consistent, Lom will understand straight away that we’re making this up, and then we’re dead.”

“Then again, I can help. Lenk’A is the captain, she will be the one to speak, and we will see together what you can or cannot say. You will have an earpiece during the meeting and I will tell you what to say if you need to.”

“And if they refuse the meeting ?” Gren stressed.

“Then we find another plan.”

“Just like that ?”

“Just like that. Again, stomach, line of business…”

They sat for about an hour, deciding what to say, what would be judged too illogical, too much of a bait or not enough of one. When every single word of the speech got a seal of approval from all seven members of the two crews, Anakin ordered Lenk’A to learn it by heart so they could record the holo in an hour. She yelled at him out of outrage of both being ordered around on her own ship and the impossibility to memorise it all in just the span of an hour. He shut her up curtly but refrained himself from being too harsh. He was used to being obeyed without any complaint, and if questions were asked, at least it was pertinent ones. He was determined to have his way and bend this motley crew to his will but quickly remembered that it was not a good impulse to indulge on. It was Vader’s way, not his anymore.

While Lenk’A tried loudly to do as Anakin had not so kindly asked, Tarek commed Pala and Yuve, exposing them the plan and telling them they would contact them again when the Pykes’ answer came. It could take a while so they didn’t want the girls to worry. They advised them to go around the city, gather as much information as they could about the Pykes, their way to manage business and people under them, what kind of deals they were currently having, who they traded the most...And to send anything that could be of immediate interest right to them. 

The recording of the message was a trial in itself. Anakin thought someone who worked for one of the Hutt Cartel’s heads had a better sabbac face, but it turned out that he was mistaken. Lenk’A wasn’t very skilled at this, and he often had to tell her to put more conviction behind her words, words that she kept forgetting anyway. He was highly tempted to do it himself, but as they would be the one the Pykes would meet and the captain of the ship they hijacked, it had to be her. So he took a deep breath under his helmet, released his frustration into the Force and cleared his mind. He walked to Lenk’A who showed teeth immediately as she thought he would berate her again, but was so surprised when he simply took her by the shoulders and turned her toward the holorecorder that her defiance died down on the spot. He laced his next words with the Force to infuse self confidence within her:

“Don’t talk to the Pykes. Talk to a fellow captain working for Grakkus. You know them, you are equals in status and respect. You don’t take any shit from them but you make sure not to act as if you thought they are below you. You have an offer to make, it's a take it or leave it, and it has a limited time of validity.”

She took a deep breath as well and gave a sharp nod. From there on, it took only a couple of new tries before they were fully satisfied with her performance. They then send it directly to minister Lom thanks to Tarek’s talent for slicing. Now, all they could do was to wait for Pyke's answer.  

“You are coming along with your own ship, right ?” Icar wondered. “If we are invited to come, it will be for one ship only, how do you plan on landing yours ?”

“I have a pretty decent cloaking system,” Anakin explained. “I can follow on your ship’s trail and hide within your transponder’s signal. Once you get cleared for landing, my associates here can steal the transponder’s code for another nearby ship and take its place within the records.”

“That won’t be enough to escape a more thorough examination of the ship.”

“I can deal with the spaceport’s staff until I get to the security center and make any changes needed to give us free rein. We’ll load all of the stolen cargo on my ship and you will leave as normally as possible on your own. With any luck, by the time they realise something is amissed, we’ll be long gone.” 

“What stops you to leave with the spice and abandon us to the Pyke if anything goes wrong ?” Lenk’A asked suspiciously. 

“The fact that Grakkus will certainly not like it, and it would jeopardise my blooming friendship with him.”

“Well, once he learns what we did, and how we did it, I think he’s going to be pissed anyway,” Ari muttered. “The relationship with the Pyke is going to be impossible after that stunt.”

“It would be so no matter what,” Anakin said, growing tired of them not being able to see the larger picture and the ramifications of their actions. “Did you think that stealing your cargo back would not ruffle their feathers the wrong way ? They chose to make matters more complicated between them and Grakkus when they stole from him in the first place.”

Anakin and Lenk’A sat together and spent a long time rehearsing for various eventualities, Anakin briefing her on things about the Syndicates workings that she didn’t know about, stressing what she could use at length and what would be a serious mistake. Once they were both satisfied with her knowledge and her ability to jump from one rebuttal to another opening, they had to work on how to make her sound natural while he spoke in her earpiece to indicate what to say next. Her speech pattern had to be smooth otherwise it would be obvious than someone was tipping her. She proved to be much better at this than the rest, and it didn’t take long for her to be flawless at this game. 

They then spend the day playing sabbac and dejarik, making some stupid shooting contest and credits changed hands a lot. Tarek took the time to speak with each of Lenk’A’s crew members, creating if not a bond of trust then at least some amity. Anakin tended to stay a little on the sideline. Socialising still wasn’t his strongest suit, and he prefered going over the information they already had and the ones Pala and Yuve sent him bit by bit. He didn’t refuse casual conversation or small talk, but didn’t try too hard to gain his companions’ friendship. All he needed was for them to understand that he knew what he was doing, that he was good at it, and that if they followed his lead, they would get out of this with both their lives and  a substantial amount of credits. They seemed to get the message, as he kept the answers to their questions short and impersonal, revealing nothing about himself and rerouting the conversation toward things as neutral as past jobs. Tarek seemed to be handling his image anyway. 

When the Pyke’s holo finally came through, they all shared an anxious look. Lenk’A push the button, and minister Lom’s both perplexed and teasing face appeared on the terminal:

“Well well well, I must say I certainly didn’t expect such a turnaround of our situation ! I must say I am very much intrigued by such an offer. Dare I say it sounds too good to be true ? An elaborate plot to get revenge on this tiny...how did you call it, oh yes “theft” ? Such civilities are customary between Syndicates, it would be very...childish of Grakkus to get so upset about so little. But you got my attention. I hereby invite you to Oba Diah to discuss this possible alliance further. You are my guests and will be treated as such, you have my word. But should you reveal yourselves to be liars, well...I’ll let you fill the end of this sentence as you see fit, with knowledge of the Pyke reputation.”

A collective sigh of relief blew over the common area as the holo ended. Well, that was step one done. 

“Good. My associates located a ship that mine could steal the codes from, so we are going to match our flight plan with theirs. I’m sending you the intels. We need to synchronise our chronos and comms. As soon as my team and I land, we’ll get to work, and the moment we locate a cargo fitting our needs, we get started. I’ll keep you informed of our progress. You just get focused on keeping the Pyke’s attention tightly on you. Don’t hesitate to act dodgy if it helps. Nothing too much, just enough to let them think you are the main problem and blind them to us. As soon as we are finished, you can take your leave as well. Anything you want to say now ? I won’t take any objection later on, so it’s now or never.”

They stayed quiet, even if he could feel some of them had a piece of their mind they wanted to share, but Lenk’A stern expression was enough to keep their mouth shut. 

“Great. If anything goes according to plan, see you on Nar Shaddaa, then. If not, we’ll worry about it then.”

***

Letting anyone other than him pilot his ship was something Anakin was absolutely not okay with. Yet he patted himself on the shoulder for the calm and restraint he showed when Yuve told him that it would be best if she took the controls from their drop out of hyperspace to the landing. She was far more experienced than him when it came to smuggling ships under the very careful watch of heavily guarded spacesport’s radar. Plus, if Tarek was to slice and steal transponder codes in the meantime, better have him do it while someone he knew and was used to working with handled the manoeuvre. Anakin accepted with reluctance, and hovered above her shoulder during the whole process, making comments and clipped noises every now and then, so much that Yuve told him that removing blood stains from where she would hit his head against the holomap would be part of the list of modifications he made to the New Dawn . Tarek smiled and looked lovingly at her, and Pala, who had stood in the back of the cockpit all along, laughed good-heartedly. 

“I guess that despite time and experiences, there are some things that never change,” she said to him with a gentleness he hadn’t expected, being the only one knowing how close he was to bursting a blood vessel at the simple fact that he was not piloting his ship.

She then did something he expected even less: she took his flesh hand in hers and squeezed it lightly then held it gently:

“Yuve’s good,” she reassured him. “One of the best, trust me. She’ll land us without any problem and your ship won’t have a single scratch on it.”

The contact of her skin against his was surprisingly soothing. He looked dumbly at their joined hands, clearly at loss. It felt the same as when Kitster had given him that bear hug when he caught him up in the market’s alley. It was warm and kind, it grounded him and it made him at a loss. He looked up at her face and, with all of her hostility gone, he was finally able to see the little girl he had grown up with behind the hardened woman. Her features might have lost their childlike curves, she might have gotten some physical and mental scars along the way, but her golden eyes still had that mischievous glint. And, just like with Kitster, he was hit by the fact that he had missed her. He had spent decades without remembering she even existed, but now that she was in front of him again, he hoped she wouldn’t leave again. She was back in his life and he was glad of it. She still very much wanted to at least punch him repeatedly for Sergei’s death, but, as laborious as it might be, the possibility for a renewed relationship between them existed. So he squeezed her hand back, his face displaying obviously how out of his depth he truly felt.

“When was the last time someone touched you with kindness ?” she asked in a whisper, so that Yuve and Tarek wouldn’t overhear.

“Not so long actually,” he replied thinking about Kitster, Owen and Beru. “I just...I’m not used to it anymore. It takes some adjusting.”

“Jedi don’t hug ?” she asked lightly, meaning it as a joke.

“Trained Force-sensitives refrain from physical contact most of the time,” he replied blankly.

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“It’s not that they never touch each-other,” Anakin tried to explain. “It’s simply that, well when you are Force-sensitive you can sense and feel other people’s feelings and emotions, and touch enhances that ability. It’s called psychometry and some Jedi are particularly proficient at this. It can be overwhelming, or just downright rude. So we take care of unrequited touches. I was always considered too expansive by my master.”

Pala looked at him with an expression he could qualify as slight pity. She remembered him as a slightly clingy boy, no doubt, and she of all people knew touch was important for slaves. Gentle ones, from friends and family, to counter the harsh, hurting ones of the masters. She didn’t comment, probably sensing from her previous conversations about the Jedi lifestyle with Anakin that she just had to understand this culture shock, but she kept hold of Anakin’s hand until they landed in the docking bay that should have belonged to another ship. They commed Lenk’A and told her they were planetside, on reasonable distance from the Pyke’s stronghold, and gave her the docking bay’s number. She in turn informed them that an escort was taking them to the stronghold to wait a few hours for minister Lom to finish with his current business before meeting them. She had secured the highly modified sensor that Anakin had given her and was ready to activate it as soon as he gave the order to start mapping the stronghold interior. Anakin was more than happy to know that Lom was kept by other matters as it gave them some time to move ahead of the Pyke, and the idea that they wouldn’t have to rush the whole operation as much as he thought they would gave everyone a welcome dose of confidence. Lenk’A told them the moment they stepped foot inside the stronghold and Anakin had her activate the sensor. 

Data started to live-stream on the New Dawn ’s main terminal, creating a holomap full of holes. The facility was tightly protected and they weren’t getting as much as they wanted, but added to Anakin’s memories of the place, they obtained a decent map to work with. Once they were satisfied with it, Anakin put his helmet back on:

“I don’t need to remind you of the plan,” he said. “I shouldn’t be too long, so be ready.”

“Don’t worry. And you, don’t forget any of the manipulations I showed you,” Tarek warned. “I won’t be by your side if anything goes wrong…”

“You mean if I mess up anything,” Anakin translated with a small grin.

He checked he had all of the tools he would need, then moved to leave before he stopped and turned back to them:

“Not a scratch, right Pala ?”

“Get kriffin’ going !”

The streets of Oba Diah were very different from those of Nar Shaddaa, which showed a very different mindset between the Hutts and the Pyke. Of course the density of population on Oba Diah was far lower, but on the moon, the Hutt seemed so sure of their hold on the place, of their superiority and untouchability, so secured that they felt within their wealth and power, that their hold on the multiple levels of the ecumenopolis was somewhat loose, their security more relying on shadow agents and underhand trade of information, the Hutts’ men looked more like a motley crew of hired guns. Here, the Pyke’s presence couldn’t be forgotten as groups of guards in uniforms patrolled the streets. Security was tighter and the atmosphere was more serious, more organised. Luckily, with his hunter’s clean and polished garb, Anakin fitted right in. He walked with Vader’s assured strut, head held high, as if his presence here couldn’t be questioned and his right to be here unequivocal. 

Thanks to the map they’d created and the sensors in his helmet and armor, he managed to find the safest way to enter the stronghold. A service door overhanging a garbage chute on a klick high cliff could be opened from the outside away from prying eyes. All Anakin had to do was climb unnoticed, which he wasn't concerned with. It took him less than fifteen minutes to go from the edge of the cliff to the door. Hidden within the Force, he knew the security camera above the door wouldn’t show him on any monitor. He did not, however, expect a guard to be standing on the other side. The Pyke was startled when the door suddenly opened and revealed Anakin's frozen shape. For a second, none of them moved, too stunned to do anything but stare, but the Pyke pulled himself together and pointed his blaster at him with a snarl. Anakin ducked under the bolt, came into the Pyke’s space and quickly grabbed him from behind, in a lock that prevented the guard from pointing his blaster again and cut his airways. The guard tried to fight him off, struggling to get free, but Anakin’s grip was unbreakable and he soon went limp between Anakin’s arms. Anakin released him before he could kill him and laid him on the ground, looking around. Fortunately, there was no security camera here, the hallway was dimly lit and turned, and was deserted. Looking back at the unconscious guard, Anakin cursed himself. He couldn’t leave him here as he would raise the alarm as soon as he woke up. He couldn’t throw him off the cliff as it would appear on the security feed and he couldn’t take the risk of anyone seeing the footage before he had access to the security center and erased the footage. And he wasn’t comfortable with killing him either. Sergei had been his first kill since he came back and he didn't like it one bit. 

Blast !

Damn him and his blasted habit of acting first and thinking later !

He walked up the hallway, followed the turn, keeping his senses expanded so as not to miss any other presence, and ended up facing another door. He activated the same kind of sensor he used to map Grakkus’ place and had given Lenk’A to add new data to their map. Making sure that no one was on the other side, he still cloaked his presence inside the Force and opened the door just enough to peek behind. The barely lit storage room was as empty as he’d felt, except for rows upon rows of crates neatly stored on racks, and the only camera was facing the center of the room. Anakin slithered inside the room and took a look at the control panel beside the door. He could lock the door from this side to prevent the guard from leaving. And it would be hard for him to have his presence notice, not until the guard shift revealed his absence. 

Once the door was properly blocked, he moved so that his presence wouldn’t be caught on camera, and entered the stronghold proper. Navigating the hallways was trickier than he’d expected as the number of guards patrols was higher than he remembered. Even with his presence hidden within the Force, he had to be careful not to bump into anyone, and some corridors happened to be quite crowded. He also had to be mindful of droid patrols which he couldn’t sense. The map wasn’t complete either. So he trusted his instinct and the Force to guide him where he needed to go. After half an hour spent in the maze of the corridors, he finally made it to the door of the security center. There were no guards, but it didn’t surprise him. The wing they were in was access restricted, only certain members of the Pyke were allowed to come and go here, and he already had to slice into three different control panels to avoid being detected by things such as thermoscans, fingerprint scans, movement detector, and simply to get some doors to open. Thankfully, the Pyke were so confident no one unwanted could get as far as here, the door to the security center was easy enough to open with a single Force-push. 

As of course, his luck ran out, three  Pyke were in the room and were startled by his sudden entrance. But he actually thought first this time, and before they could point blasters at him, he waved his hand and said:

“It is alright that I am here.”

The three instantly let their hands drop from the cross of their blaster.

“It is alright that you are here,” they repeated together.

Anakin breathed again. He wasn’t sure it would work, as he had never tried this “Jedi mind-trick” on a Pyke before. To be sure, he added:

“You don’t mind that I’m here.”

They completely soothed then, and even smiled at him.

“Oh, we don’t mind that you’re here !”

“No at all !”

Anakin smiled ruefully. Well, that was one problem he could get out of the way. Thanks the Force…He wave his hand again:

“You won’t pay any attention to me while I’m here, nor will you interrupt me or bother me. And once I’m gone, you will forget all about my presence here.”

At this, they simply turned on their hills and returned to their stations, paying him no mind, as if he wasn’t here at all. Anakin then took a sit before a computer terminal and started working:

“Tarek, I’m into the control room,” he informed his partner via his comlink. “I am checking the register of all recently docked freighters to find a cargo that would match.”

Ever since coming back, he never missed R2 as much as in this very precise moment. He knew his astromech would have found the information he was looking for in matters of seconds, while he had to scroll through lists that seemed endless. Eventually, he found something suitable:

“Found it. It’s a shipment that arrived this morning just before us and that is waiting for inspection, four bays from ours. You will have to cross a good portion of the spaceport though.”

“Can you grant us the access and clearances to get there from the security center ?” Yuve asked.

“I’m already on it,” Anakin replied with a smile as he was typing and making manipulation he had learned from Tarek only a few hours earlier. As if reading his mind, Tarek said with a voice laced with mirth:

“And that is one of the parts where you definitely don’t want to mess things up.”

It took him a few minutes, certainly longer than Tarek would have needed, to give them complete clearance.

“I falsified the access code of some high ranking Pyke to match your IDs and I rewrote the spaceport’s inspector's manifest to say that you are the one supposed to check the goods. It will still be out of the ordinary and they will be suspicious so the rest is up to you. I will create a footage loop on the monitors so you can’t be spotted or recognized later on. Oh, and I am sending you a complete map of the stronghold and the spaceport.”

“I don’t think you can do more from there,” Yuve said, sounding satisfied. “Go get Silman, you won’t have long.”

She was right. The second they move toward the cargo, the clock measuring the limited time he had to find Silman and bring him back to the New Dawn would start ticking. He checked the best path to take from the control center to Silman’s cell, looped the monitors of the cameras along it, disabled the security systems for an estimated period of time before they rebooted, download the same map he’d send to his teammates on his own terminal and took an encrypted access card from one of the Pykes in the room after asking them if it would grant him access where he needed to go. 

As he left, Lenk’A told him that she was brought to see minister Lom alone, as her crew was ordered to stay in the room where they’d waited, with guards at the door. It didn't bode well. If things didn’t go smoothly, the Pykes could keep her crew as hostages, or as leverage to get the truth out of her. If the Blue Sun ’s crew got caught and had to run while Lenk’A was still with Lom and they were fast to add two plus two, it would be almost impossible to get both her and her crew out of the stronghold. The Pyke weren’t stupid, and on this one, they weren’t even aware how well they’d played their hand. He explained it all to Lenk’A, and tried his best not to sound too harsh when he told her she couldn’t let them use her crew against her, or too indifferent when he told her if worse came to worst, he would have to choose the cargo over her and her crew. She couldn’t reply as she was now within Lom audience’s chamber, so he couldn’t know what her feelings about this were, but he asked her to make sure that he could hear all of the conversation so he could help her and therefore avoid the worst possible outcome.  

Thanks to all the precautions Anakin had taken, the trip to the cell was much easier and quicker, which allowed him to focus on the meeting between Lenk’A and Lom at the same time. He blended within the Force again, expecting to feel the strain such an exercise would usually provoke when performed too often within a small period of time, but felt none. It was just as easy as he was doing it for the first time of the day. He had already noticed how, ever since he had started to go beyond his inner supernova, his abilities had intensified, his stamina increased and his connection to the Force had strengthened, heightened. He had already come back more powerful, and the closer he got from reaching the other side of the supernova, the stronger he still continued to grow. He hadn’t tested that power yet, and something told him that it would be best to do so back on Mortis, where the damages could be if not controlled then at least minimized and where he couldn’t hurt anyone. He hoped the situation here wouldn’t go south and that he wouldn’t be forced to try out his new limits. Thankfully, so far, things were going well. Lenk’A had managed to replicate the confidence she’d had when they recorded the message and whenever he felt her falter, he told her what to say next. She was quick to reply, leaving almost but no gap in the conversation and hiding perfectly that she was repeating what was whispered in her ear, just like they had practiced. By the time Anakin reached the detention block, she had gained Lom’s ear, and the Pyke sounded like he truly believed Grakkus wanted to build a partnership. 

As he arrived before Silman’s cell, he warned Lenk’A that she would have to be on her own for a few moments, as his attention was needed somewhere else. He opened the cell’s door, entered and closed behind him, as he stopped cloaking his presence.

The cell was as dark and bare as he remembered. A man with long dirty tangled hair and beard was sitting one the floor, half hiding, looking at him with big eyes, looking almost as scared as curious. 

“Silman ?” Anakin said, aware that his helmet was going to botch any attempt at sounding nice and gentle but trying anyway. “I am here to get you out of here.”

The man stood up, hunched and kept the only furniture in the room between them.

“Nowhere !” he exclaimed in a high pitched voice. “You came out of nowhere ! Nowhere to go ! Nowhere, no, no.”

Right…

“I am a Jedi,” Anakin explained slowly. “I came here to find you.”

“To find me ?” Silman repeated as if the notion that someone would one day come for him never crossed his mind. “I was forgotten, long ago…”

“No one knew you were alive. But I need you to come with me now. We must leave quickly !”

“Leave ? But why ? This...this is my home. I can’t leave my babies alone !”

As he said this he crawled nimbly on the central dome where things that Anakin would call larva and didn’t want to get any closer to gathered. Anakin frowned his nose in disgust, and tried to divert the man’s crumbled mind:

“I am sure the Pyke will take good care of them when you’re gone. The Jedi need to know what you remember about Master Sifo-Dyas. Do you remember him or your mission here with him ?”

Silman cackled madly when Anakin mentioned the name and replied:

“Sifo-Dyas ? He’s dead ! D’dead, d’dead, d’dead. Tricked. And betrayed.”

“Yes, I know,” Anakin said, trying his best to remain calm. “And everyone else needs to know. The Pykes are not to be trusted, you know as much. So let’s leave. I promise you, all is going to be well.”

The poor man was clearly torn as he looked around frantically, his fingers playing with a strand of his beard and mumbling about how he couldn’t leave but couldn’t trust the Pykes. And the conversation between Lenk’A and Lom had started to go downhill. She valiantly tried to stand her ground, but the minister was growing harsher, more distrustful. Anakin couldn’t afford to wait for Silman to take his decision and follow. And even if he did, making all the way back to the New Dawn while preventing the man from wandering or getting caught would be too much of a risk.  Following his instinct, he stepped closer to Silman, raised his flesh hand and as he put two fingers on Silman’s forehead, he said:

“I’m sorry, but I cannot wait for your answer. But rest assured that you will be well-treated.”

Silman cut his blabbering short and squinted to look up at Anakin’s fingers on him. And Anakin tried something he had never done before, that he wasn’t even sure he could do, but with a certainty that came out of nowhere, his mind was suddenly as precise as his hands used to be whenever he built droids or ships. He found and understood the workings of Silman’s mind and, using the Force, gently sent to it a simple command: sleep . Silman’s eyelids instantly fluttered heavily, and Anakin caught him as his body dropped toward the floor, fast asleep. He then quickly removed the larva sticking to the man. He was definitely not taking that anywhere near him, and the simple thought of a single one of those being in less than a three klicks radius from the New Dawn almost made him sick. He then propped Silman’s unconscious body on his shoulder, cloaked himself and his slightly snoring passenger, and left the cell, informing Lenk’A that he was back and immediately gave her some advice to turn the meeting back in favor of them. 

He walked fast, and as soon as he received a comm from the Blue Sun informing him that they had successfully fulfilled their mission, walked even faster. He went back to the still empty storage room where he had arrived first and where loud bangs on the door resonated. He disengaged the lock on the door, and the Pyke stumbled into the room with a bewildered expression, as Anakin was still tightly wrapped within the Force and therefore invisible to him. To buy him some more time, and for good measure, Anakin threw his fist to the Pyke’s face, knocking him unconscious once more. Anakin wasn’t concerned about the security camera which would record a guard falling flat on his face after being hit by thin air. When they would look at the footage, he would be long gone. The journey upon the cliff was trickier this time, as Anakin had to juggle with Silman’s body and balance his weight. He had to rely on the Force there as well, and was more and more astonished to realise he still felt no strain. 

From there, the way back to the New Dawn was a walk in the park. The ship’s shape was a welcome sight, and he spotted the crew waiting for him by the open gangplank. He ran up to them, only lifting the Force stealth when he was just a few steps from them, and all three nearly jumped out of their shoes when he appeared out of thin air, with the still body of what looked like a homeless beggar hanging like a bag of vegetables on his shoulder.

“Is that your man ? Is he okay ?” Yuve worried.

“Fine. I just put him to sleep. Let's put him in the medbay and have the meddroid do a full scan on him. He has a severe vitamin D deficiency, so we will have to start treating him against its many consequences. And he will have to be fed most of the nutrients his body needs via intravenous dip, because his digestive system won’t be able to take it. And, if he’s tied to a bed, he won’t be able to...get lost. Is the cargo secured ? Did you run into any trouble ?”

“Yes, it’s secured,” Pala answered. “And we had to get very creative despite all the clearance you granted us. They are very suspicious so I suggest we get the hell off this planet, right now.”

“Sound plan !”

Just as they stepped foot on the gangplank, Anakin felt a deep unease settle over him. All his senses went into high alert mod and he froze on the spot.

“What’s wrong ?” Yuve wondered, frowning before Anakin’s sudden stillness.

Anakin couldn’t tell exactly. He had Silman, they had the cargo, they were about to take off, Lenk’A’s meeting with Lom was a bit passive-aggressive but nothing too alarming...But shit was about to hit the fan, he could tell. He heard in his earpiece as a Pyke requested a moment from Lom and seemed to whisper to the minister.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” he said.

And just as he finished his sentence, blaster shots deafened him from his earpiece as the meeting suddenly fell in complete chaos. Blast, sometimes, he just hated being right...He could hear Lenk’A knock a guard and she apparently took his blaster as she was able to fire back.

“I need back up !” she yelled, as the sound of bolts digging and bumps in metal resonated around her. 

He sighed deeply.

“What’s happening ?” Tarek inquired.

“Things went south,” Anakin explained tiredly. “I guess someone found out the cargo never reached its proper destination and Lom was clever enough to understand that Lenk’A was just stalling. It’s a blaster’s fire rain in there. Of course, it has to happen now !”

Now that they had everything they came for. Anakin should have known his luck would eventually run out. The Force had been with him all along, only to play this big joke on him. Part of him, the part that still breathed and thought like Vader, wanted to simply get out of here and leave Lenk’A and her crew to their fate. It wasn’t his problem after all, he had what he wanted. Better, it ensured that the crew wouldn’t talk to Grakkus about his partners and he could spin whatever tale he wanted to make this whole operation sound like he wanted to to Grakkus. Let them die, and take advantage of it , Vader’s voice whispered to his ear. He pushed it back in the darkness. He had come too far to fall for that again and the instinct to help others he’d had since his childhood and the Jedi had honed had resurfaced and were strong again. Lenk’A and her crew had played their part, they had helped and he wouldn’t have succeeded without them. Least he could do to pay them back was to save their lives. The prospect of going back and charging like a rancor in a porcelain shop after going so perfectly unnoticed until now was still very irritating. 

He sighed grumpily, cursing under his breath, then moved to give Silman’s prone form to Tarek:

“I’m going back. I’ll get them out of here. You take Silman and you leave as fast and stealthily as you can. I’ll send you the coordinates for a rendezvous point when we are clear. Just don’t let the Pyke catch you. Yuve, the New Dawn is yours. For now.”

Yuve looked at him with big eyes, as his behaviour the last time she piloted his ship was a clear indication he didn’t like anyone other than himself doing so. Tarek took Silman and held him like he weighed nothing.

“Are you sure ?” he asked.

“I appreciate than you want to help them, but it might backfire,” Yuve agreed. “You could get caught and if so, they will know who you are and it won’t be hard for them to know why you were here. It could jeopardize everything you’re trying to achieve.”

“I know. But I have to do this. If I don’t, I…”

He couldn’t finish. How could he explain to her that, if he left now, it would feel like an empty victory ? It would feel like one more day in Vader’s suit, with victory bought with the lives of others. How could he explain that he had to prove to himself that he could still do this ? That he could still care and help people, and that if he succeeded, it was proof that he could one day become a Jedi once more ?

Tarek was staring at him as if he understood more than she ought to of Anakin’s racing thoughts. 

“Let him go,” he simply said. “He’ll do it. Just don’t take any unnecessary risks. We’ll wait for the coordinates far from Oba Diah’s orbit.”

He nodded thankfully and said:

“Just run like hell.” 

He turned on his heels and didn’t wait for them to take off, slipped in Force stealth and opened the comm channel:

“Lenk’A ? Do you copy ? I’m coming to get you out.”

“I won’t last long ! I will activate my tracker, just find my crew first.”

“Got it. Keep moving if you have to, just stay alive, I’ll find you.”

He didn’t wait for her answer and started to run toward the stronghold, using Force speed. There was no time to waste, and he ran past the guards at the main door. They looked confused by the gust of wind he created with his speed but the Force kept him hidden from their eyes. He ran through the corridors, using the map he’d downloaded from the security center, Lenk’A’s beacon and his intuition to find his way. Soon, he could hear the sound of blasters and, turning at an angle, saw the crew fighting for their lives, pinned down behind a half blown door by a dozen of Pyke giving them no respite. They formed a line of fire, all with their back to him. He ran to them and, without bothering with a weapon, undertook to take them down. He knocked four of them unconscious before they realised his presence. He was fast, precise and versatile while they were completely taken by surprise and he left them no time to get a handle of themselves. Punching, swirling, kicking and striking with deadly precision, he danced his way through their rank, until none of them were left standing. The blaster fire stopped and soon the silence was only broken by the low moans of pain from the Pykes who were still conscious but who couldn’t do anything more than lay on the ground. 

The crew sneaked out of their hiding place, battered but alive. For the most part, as he only counted three of them.

“Where is Icar ?” he wondered.

Their grim expression as all the answer he needed, but Ari mumbled:

“They got him, square in the chest.”

“Where do you come from ? You just appeared out of nowhere…” Gren said, eyes wild.

“Stealth tech from the armor,” he lied easily. “I have Lenk’A location, we need to get to her then back to your ship…”

“They won’t let us get anywhere near our ship !” Ari cut angrily.

“They won’t, it doesn’t mean they will succeed,” Anakin bit back. “Just follow my lead.”

He started to walk away but Aren stopped him:

“We can’t leave Icar, we…”

“We can, and we will,” Anakin said harshly. “Look, I’m sorry for your friend, but if you don’t want to end up like him, we need to move. Now.”

They fell into step behind him and they made their way toward Lenk’A position. Anakin reassured her that he had her crew safe with him, minus one. She sounded exhausted and Anakin knew he had to move fast. They encountered several groups of Pykes, blasters ready, but Anakin felt them coming every time, and was able to warn the group before they stumbled on them, claiming again technology from his armor when Gren asked how he knew they were coming, and they managed to get through. Anakin tried his best to not kill anyone, but sometimes couldn’t avoid it. The act didn’t leave him as moved or guilty as he should have been and, even if it troubled him, he pushed the thought aside to stay focused on the moment. It was strange. The sound of blasters firing, the cries of the wounded, the orders barked over the deafening noise...All those sounds of war were so familiar to him that it kept his focus tight and he realised how much of a soldier he’d become deep inside. 

Soon they reached Lenk’A. She had found a way into a hangar, and was ideally positioned to guard both the almost sealed blast door behind which she was hiding and the door facing her, by which they came through. She almost shot them, but understood soon enough who they were. She made a quick count of them, a shadow passing over her features when she saw who was missing, and they came to kneel beside her. She was holding her left shoulder, as a blot had grazed and burned her.

“The cargo ,” she asked immediately.

“Safe and gone,” he said. “Your ship, where is it ?”

“On a landing platform, not far. But the only way is this way,” she said tapping the blast door with the barrel of her blaster. “And there are too many of them on the other side.”

“How the karking kriff did it come down to this mess ?!” Ari snarled. 

“They got notified that the cargo had never arrived at the sorting facility, and that it didn’t appear on the manifests anymore,” Lenk’A said. “Lom understood immediately that we played him, he saw right through our game the moment he learned one cargo was missing.”

“We’ll never make it to the ship, and even if we do, will never leave this place,” Gren was lamenting, convinced they were all going to die.

But Anakin had better things to do than to die here and was examining carefully what was happening on the other side. The blast door was three quarters sealed, which left enough space for one person to go through and the second he sneaked a peek, a shower of blaster bolts ran his way, some finding their aim and ringing on his helmet like a bell. He was stunt for a brief moment, the helmet absorbing the damages, but he had managed to see how many enemies they were up against and how they were positioned. Guards, all of them, in standard uniform. Which meant they all carried munitions in the small pouch on the right side of their belts. Anakin sat back against the blast door while the four others were arguing over the best way to escape, hardened his grip on his blaster and focused. He let the Force seep into his mind, guide his inner eye and animate his muscles. Then he stood up in a flash, took aim and fired five shots in a row and crouched back to put the blast door between him and the explosion that shook the hallway as the bolts found their target and destroyed the munitions of the Pyke standing in the middle of the group. The deflagration shook everything, the walls, the door, the floor. Various debris and body parts were projected through the gap in the blast door, the crew screamed in surprise, then the world went still. The four crewmates looked up at him absolutely stunned, like they couldn’t believe he had the thought and guts of pulling this stunt, and believed even less that he’d succeeded.

“Let’s go !” he said as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and moved to get on the other side of the blast door.

The others followed him and he asked Lenk’A to lead the way to the ship. She did so without a sound, still too baffled by his last move to say anything. The platform was of course guarded but Lom didn’t seem to think they were good enough to get to it as only five men stood before it. Without even speaking, they each shot one down. Anakin then easily sliced through the panel to get the door open, and they ran to the freighter. As they closed the gangplank behind them, Anakin said:

“I fly us out, Lenk’A you’re my copilot.”

His tone broke no argument but he expected some nonetheless. He got none. Lenk’A simply nodded and took her seat on the copilot’s chair, as Ari and Gren rushed to the cannons. They all seemed to understand he was in the best position to save their skins. 

The Pykes’ canons started to pound them as the engine fired to life. 

“Shields up, full power. You two, blow the tractor beams,” Anakin ordered. “We’re not going anywhere otherwise ! And give us some cover.”

There was no longer any cause nor use to be subtle, and Ari took great pleasure in firing on the Pyke’s canons while Gren tried to break the beam’s shield to destroy them. Aren was frantically mapping their escape route on the navicomputer. Anakin pushed the lever to boost the engines but the tractor beams were pulling them back.

“Get those beams out !” he yelled.

“I’m trying !” Gren shouted back. “Their shields are too strong !”

“Incoming !” Aren yelled in turn. “Four fighters, both on each side.”

The canons on the walls, the fighters flanking them, the tractor beams holding them back and not enough cannons themselves to shoot them all...Anakin let go of the moment and let his mind fall deep within the arms of the supernova. 

I’m one with the Force, and the Force is with me.  

He became one with the world around him. He could feel his companions' frenzied heartbeats as his own, the fuel being burnt inside the engines, the heat spreading along the cannon's barrels after each shot. He could feel the footsteps of the Pykes rushing on the platform as if they were running on his skin, the fighters rip through the air, the currents of the wind. His awareness was expanding fast but he held it back and instead focused it fully on his direct environment, until he could feel each muscle and tendon, each particle of fabric and seam, every slab of metal and window of transparisteel. He let his mind map the tractor beams and their shield until their blueprints were carved into it. He then focused on unscrewing every bolt and screw, melting the weld, and everything that kept the machines together. It was just like any work he ever made on a star destroyer, pod racer, protocol droid or prosthetic. He just had to do it inside his mind and yards from the object, while keeping the ship he was piloting from being blown up. Piece of cake... 

He could hear the screams of his crewmates but they were muffled by the depth of his focus, and, as he felt the screws and weld coming loose, he set the ship at full speed. He withdrew from the Force in a split second and the sudden shift in awareness left him as dizzy as usual. The sound of explosions mixed with Gren’s cry of victory told him that the tractor beams were done for, and the ship shot in the sky. 

The dizziness was instantly forgotten and Anakin felt a rush of adrenaline as the fighters took chase after them. Now, it had been a long time since he last had a chase. And he had so much kraking missed it ! Three more fighters joined the pursuit and Lenk’A started yelling things Anakin didn’t pay any attention to, too thrilled to be doing again what he loved the most. Flying and racing were like the midichlorians, it was in his blood and he couldn’t live without it. As he took evasive maneuvers to escape the fighter’s shots, then  sharps turns and flew so close to the mountains' side Lenk’A screamed but he let an exhilarated laugh come out of his throat, and then barreled on the side. 

“ I didn’t know this ship could do that !” Aren screamed behind them, sounding both pleasantly surprised and perfectly terrified. 

The fighters had troubles to follow and Ari and Gren took full advantage of their inability to match Anakin’s skills. They shot down three, while Anakin managed to get two others to crash on the rocky cliffs he brushed past. One of the two remaining ones tried to cut his path by going around a mountain top, but Anakin angled the ship perfectly for Ari to take a shot and the fighters blew up in pieces. The last one gave up and turned back with its tail between its legs. 

The crew celebrated loudly as Anakin kept going at full speed toward the upper atmosphere, and once the cries of victory and insults toward the Pyke died down, Lenk’A looked at him and said, impressed:

“That was some sick level of flying skills. I never saw anything like that, ever. I’ve had this ship for what ? Ten years now, and I would have never thought it could take half of the manoeuvres you just pulled off. You made it look so easy !”

“It was not. No offense, but she’s got a fat rear !”

Lenk’A laughed to tears at this. He knew half of it came from nerves and the adrenaline rush, but she genuinely seemed unoffended by his rude remark about her ship. As he asked Aren to send coordinates to the New Dawn for a rendezvous, he made the jump to hyperspace, leaving Oba Diah behind them for good.

When the two ships reunited safely over Lowick, Anakin instructed Lenk’A to get back ahead on Nar Shaddaa, pretending to have business to settle with his associates. He swore to follow her shortly thereafter, and to be at Grakkus’ palace in no more than four days after her. She didn’t protest and the other crew members even said their goodbyes warmly. He suspected that saving their lives and probably their livelihood along the way tended to buy some respect. He trusted them to give Grakkus a report of the events as close to reality as possible. They would try to change anything that could result in any kind of punishment for them, but they would be thankful enough toward him not to put him in any trouble with the Hutt. They parted ways and once Anakin was alone with the Blue Sun ’s crew, he went to check on their passenger. 

“He woke up a couple of hours ago,” Pala informed him. “He didn’t try to run or to rip his catheter, so all things considered, so far so good. But...hum…”

She trailed off.

“He’s crazy,” Yuve said bluntly. “I can’t blame him, if he stayed as long as you said in that cell. But I can’t really see how you’re going to get anything sensible, or admissible, out of him.”

“By being patient,” he said. “I don’t think his mind is damaged beyond repair.”

They all followed him to the medbay. They had been careful to dim the lightning to accommodate Silman’s eyes, which were most certainly damaged from his imprisonment, and the man was sitting on his bunk, inspecting a bacta patch like he’d never seen one before. He jumped slightly when they entered, but relaxed when he recognize Anakin:

“The faceless Jedi ! I thought you were a dream ! I was awake. And then, boom ! Here.”

He cackled until Anakin took off his helmet and set it on the second bunk. The realisation that an actual man was under the armor stunned Silman and he followed Anakin’s every move until he sat beside his helmet, facing him.

“I am sorry it took the Jedi so long to find out you had survived, Silman,” Anakin said. He couldn’t tell if it was the sound of his voice no longer being filtered by the vocoder in his helmet, but Silman appeared to finally grasp that Anakin was a real person.

“You were with Master Sifo-Dyas the day he died, right ?” Anakin continued. “The Pykes shot your ship down, but you survived.”

“Yes, yes. Betrayed we were. Tricked and deceived. But the Pykes were not the ones, no.”

“They were paid to kill Sifo-Dyas, weren’t they ?”

Silman nodded repeatedly as his hands fumbled with the bed’s covers, eyes wide and scared. Tarek, Pala and Yuve were standing silently at the door, following the exchange closely.

“Who ? Who wanted Sifo-Dyas dead ?”

“Someone powerful. Someone who didn’t want Sifo-Dyas dead. He wanted to be Sifo-Dyas !”

“Was it this man ?” Anakin asked as he turned on a holo of Dooku.

Silman’s reaction was instantaneous. He yelped and shrieked, folding on himself in fear.

“Yes ! Yes! Tyranus, yes !”

So he did remember perfectly, despite his fractured mind. The Blue Sun ’s reaction to Silman’s words was immediate too. He had told them about Dooku’s double identity, and the fact that Silman called him by his Sith name first was proof.

“Why did he want to become Sifo-Dyas ?” Anakin probed further.

“Sifo-Dyas had lied to the Jedi too. He created an army ! An army for the Republic ! An army of clones ! Tyranus wanted the army for himself. But not for himself.”

“How do you know this ? Did Sifo-Dyas tell you so ?”

“No. No, no, no, no. A holo message to the Council. He recorded one before the shuttle crashed. Heard it all ! But he pushed me in the escape pod and boom! he went, crash I went. I live, he died. D’died, d’died, d’died.”

“Do you know if the Pykes had that message ?”

Silman simply shrugged then returned to the close examination of the bacta patch, his focus drained away. Tarek came to stand beside Anakin and asked:

“Did you plant the worms as I instructed you ?”

“I did.”

“Then I could try to find this message as well as your footage. It would be another proof, one we could go without, but that would be invaluable if we could get our hands on it.”

The use of “we” and not “you” was not lost on Anakin and he looked up to Tarek, hope and surprise plain on his face:

“You believe me then ? And you agree to work with me on...all this mess ?”

“Well, you could clearly do with three more sets of hands,” Yuve said as she sat beside Anakin. “We did good back there, we work well together. You owe us, after the death of Sergei, and we can’t turn our back on what is going on. You were right ! You proved to us you were telling the truth and we can’t run from this. But don’t be a little shit about it, or I'll put you on fresher duty.”

She said those last words without any malice or malevolence in them, and Anakin could feel her presence in the Force, warm and peaceful.

“This is my ship,” Anakin replied with a smile.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it,” she replied right back. “It’s not the Blue Sun , but hey, never too late to start a fleet.” 

Anakin laughed good-heartedly. 

“So, at least, Sergei didn’t die for nothing,” Pala whispered, still standing aside under the doorframe. 

“It doesn’t make it any better, or absolves me in any way, but no, he didn’t,” Anakin admitted. 

Pala just nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. 

“We’ll go back to Atollon,” Anakin said. “Can you wait for me there, with the Blue Sun and Silman, while I go back to Grakkus ? I will return to take Silman with me, somewhere safe, where his mind can be mended.”

“Why don’t you simply take him to the Jedi Temple ?” Tarek asked. “He would be safe there, and I heard the Jedi had some of the best mind-healers.”

“He wouldn’t be safe there. Words would get out that he’s there eventually and he would get killed. Palpatine would find a way. No, the fewer people know about his existence, the safer it is, for everyone. I will take him with me. When he is well enough, I will see if I can hide him on Tatooine with my brother. Owen would love the extra staff for the farm, and no one would be looking for him there.”

“Can’t he stay in your safe place ?”

“I don’t know for how long, and I don’t want to tempt fate.”

They looked between each other, feeling the first layer of trust being laid down, and Anakin had this warm sensation spreading within his chest. He hadn’t felt it in a while and it took him time to understand that it was both joy and relief to trust and be trusted back. 

“Alright. Go get your reward with Grakkus. Don’t forget our share, though,” Yuve said with a wink. “We’ll wait for you on Atollon, and we’ll take care of Silman.”

“Understood. And once I come back, we’ll talk about how we can do more than just break Grakkus’ fighting pit up.”

Chapter Text

The endless green of Naboo’s hills painted an exquisite picture under the mid-afternoon sun. Between the gentle breeze, the soft song of the birds and the lazy undulation of the tall grass, the scenery gave off a relaxing impression of peace, one that Dooku enjoyed even more knowing it was all a cracking varnish. Sitting at Risha Loo’s desk in the Gungan’s secret laboratory, the Sith Lord was taking a moment to relish the feeling of a plan unfolding perfectly. 

Ever since the beginning of the war, social and economic strife had hit the galaxy, to various degrees depending on the planet. When the poorer planets had taken most of the blow, some, such as Naboo, wealthy and stable enough to sustain the strain had been spared during the first months. But now that the war was dragging on, even the enlightened and diplomatic world had to face the crisis. Naboo was paying for its generous nature and its foolishness in thinking they could help others without having to endure the other side of the coin. Lord Sidious wanted his homeworld back into the fold, and the continuing arrival of refugees had been the perfect opportunity to sow the seeds of unrest and discontentment. Thanks to a carefully layered blockade parsecs away from the planet itself, food was starting to become an issue, and several cities were now rationing. The Gungans were the most severely affected. Thanks to a few well placed agents, Dooku had stirred the people’s resentment against their government, which kept welcoming war refugees while growing more and more unable each day to feed its own people, or produce enough electricity to keep them warm or to light their house at night. Dooku’s puppet Risha Loo had been especially effective in turning progressively the Gungans against the Mon Cala refugees and, when Boss Leonie had been reluctant to take actions against the Naboo, Risha Loo had used ancient Gungan mystical power to control the leader’s mind, and the Gungan were now preparing for a joined attack on Theed with the Separatists while kicking the Mon Cala out off their underwater cities.

Naboo was now a powder keg waiting for the spark that would make it blow sky high. Without any surprises, the Queen had called for Senator Amidala’s help in keeping the peace on their beloved planet, and the young woman had rushed back home, accompanied by Master Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and his temporary Padawan Ahsoka Tano, as ordered by the Jedi Council, whose members had been strongly suggested by the Chancellor that their presence could only be of help. Now, all the players were in the same place. No matter the outcome, the Sith would be victorious here. If the Gungans were to follow through with their intentions to turn on the Naboo, the planet would fall in the Separatists' hands. And whether the planet fell or not, Dooku still had plenty of opportunities to act against one of Skywalker's most valued friends, which would certainly force him to poke his head out of the hole he was currently hiding into. Dooku could then send agents after him and keep a close watch on him, just as his master wished.

Just as he thought so, the holocomm on the desk beeped, and Risha Loo's apprehensive face appeared:

“Weesa have a problem, Count. Meesa discovered by the Jedi !”

Dooku let a low growl rumble from his throat and, without hiding his displeasure, asked:

“What happened ?”

“They understood meesa spell. Young-sa Padawan broke the necklace. Boss Leonie wanted to attack no more, so meesa killed him. Tried to get the army marching, like yousa want. But hesa not dead ! Kenobi isa chasing meesa !”

Well this was not how Dooku had wanted things to go, but it was still salvageable.

“I’m at your secret laboratory. Make sure that Kenobi follows you there, I would be delighted to see my grandpadawan. As for the Gungan, I’m sure General Grievous will be able to turn them to our side, willing or not.”

He ended the communication and sat back in his chair. Yes, this Boss Leonie’s will was no match for Grievous...ways of persuasion. The attack would happen as planned. And he would soon get his hands on Kenobi. Surely the man had some ideas about his protégé’s whereabouts. And even if he did not, Dooku was glad to have the opportunity to talk with him. He didn’t understand Sidious’ obsession with Skywalker while Kenobi was literally right here ! So much potential, so many possibilities. So many wonderful things they could achieve together, if he could win Kenobi over to their side. Such a marvellous Sith he would make. Sidious himself would tremble before such an alliance…

He could get the Senator and the Padawan later. When the fire would rise above Theed, Amidala would surely be in the thick of the action, she was so predictable. As for the young Togruta, he still didn’t quite know what to make of her. She obviously had inherited some of Skywalker’s boldness and ability for poor quips, but also seemed to possess some of Obi-Wan’s better qualities. He would have to watch her. But for now, he enjoyed the knowledge that Kenobi would soon be within his grasp. 

***

Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about all this. From the moment the Council had tasked him to help Padmé in pacifying her restless planet, Obi-Wan couldn’t shake the thought that something was badly afoot here. Naboo was not in the habit of blatant xenophobia, and even if he could understand that the current situation was hard on people’s everyday’s life, the Naboo were too civilised and too educated to resort to fear-driven infightings. Ever since the Invasion and Padmé’s willingness to lower herself before Rugor Nass, the relationship between the two people had shifted from indifference and willing isolation toward friendship and community. The Gungan had a different culture from the Naboo and therefore a different approach to conflict in general, but never before had the situation gotten so out of hand that the Gungan would be willing to turn on their neighbors. Padmé shared the same thought, and the realisation that the Separatist had orchestrated it all and resorted to mind control, even if horrible in its own way, had clearly lifted a burden off her shoulders. Right from the start, she had had troubles believing that the Gungan would willingly go and destroy all that they had built together for the past decade. 

Ahsoka had made quick work of the necklace controlling Boss Leonie’s mind, the man was recovering from Risha Loo’s attack, and Jar Jar had successfully convinced the Gungan army to stand down. They could salvage this. Once he caught Risha Loo, they could prove that the Separatists were causing all those troubles and the people of Naboo could start to heal. That didn’t solve the rationing problem, nor magically make supplies arrive faster, but it would at least show that the Separatists were ready to go to great lengths to sway planets to their cause, even as far as causing themselves the disturbances that agitated people so much. He had to believe that, he told himself as he pushed his speeder faster on Risha Loo’s trail. He didn’t want Naboo to fall, as the planet was a beacon of hope and civilisation across the galaxy, a steadfast ally of the Republic and the Jedi, and the homeworld of the Chancellor. If the planet was to switch sides, it would deal a heavy blow to Palpatine’s credibility. And, more selfishly, Obi-Wan had to admit that had refused to see the planet fall, as Qui-Gon had died for its freedom. 

He was called back to the present as he reached a cliff where Risha Loo’s speeder stood abandoned. The engine was still warm, so the man himself couldn’t be far. Getting closer to the cliff’s edge, Obi-Wan peeked down to see one of Naboo's typical ancient sculptures on the cliffside. A path, carved directly into the rock, ran under it, and Obi-Wan spotted Risha Loo’s figure, walking down the path. Obi-Wan frowned. The man looked pretty calm for someone who had been uncovered as responsible for a potential civil war. He didn’t seem particularly eager to reach his destination, and kept glancing behind him, as if making sure he wasn’t followed. Or that he was in fact followed. This smelled like a trap from a hundred klicks away. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan couldn’t see any other option than to spring the trap, as going to get reinforcement and coming back would leave Risha Loo all the time in the world to disappear or prepare another nasty surprise. So Obi-Wan jumped down on the path and followed the minister inside what looked like an old temple. Keeping his hand hovering over his lightsaber, just in case, he stepped into the dark hallway going down the cliff’s depths. So far, nothing attacked him from behind a corner, which only worsened his bad feeling. The deeper he ventured inside the temple, the bigger a dark presence grew in his mind. Whatever Risha Loo was leading him to, Obi-Wan wouldn’t like it.

And as he finally caught up with the Gungan, Obi-Wan was reminded how he hated to be right sometimes. 

“Master, I have done what yousa asked. Kenobi isa here,” he heard the minister said as he bowed his head respectfully.

The chair behind the desk turned, revealing the man sitting on it as if it was a throne:

“Ah, Master Kenobi, what a pleasure to have you join us,” Dooku said with an unpleasant smile on his lips.

Risha Loo scrambled by his master’s side as Obi-Wan approached, his worst expectations confirmed.

“Dooku,” he said grimly. “I should have known you were behind all this. But I must say, I didn’t expect you to come directly. You usually don’t do your dirty work yourself.”

“Please, my friend, must we be so callous ?” Dooku asked conversationally as he rose from his seat and walked around the desk. 

“Oh forgive me. Should I have some tea prepared ? I imagine you don’t take sugar in yours, you must prefer it bitter.”

Dooku chuckled and stood tall before Obi-Wan, who took hold of his lightsaber, ready to ignite it. Behind him, he heard magnaguards block the way to his only escape route, and he saw two more exit the adjacent room behind Dooku. He had strung the trap and he was starting to regret it. Dooku turned from him for a moment to address Risha Loo:

“You are a fool, Risha Loo,” he said simply, before igniting his lightsaber, the blade going straight through the Gungan’s chest, killing him instantly.

As his body hit the ground, Obi-Wan felt sorry for him, despite his betrayal, and his brutal death was another reminder of Dooku ruthlessness he didn’t need nor wanted. 

“Why bring the war to Naboo ?” he asked, hoping to buy some time before...whatever Dooku had in store for him.

“How quickly you forget,” Dooku responded while dusting his cape off, as if coldblooded murder meant absolutely nothing to him, which was certainly true. “After all, the war started here years ago. You should know, you were part of that first battle.”

“I was, but I don’t recall you being part of it as well.”

“I was not, but the Sith control everything. You just don’t know it.”

Dooku stood still for a brief moment, contemplative, and Obi-Wan thought for a second that he’d seen the shadow of grief pass quickly over Dooku’s features:

“That battle cost something dear to the both of us,” he said in a hushed voice, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

That he was trying to use Qui-Gon against him once more angered Obi-Wan more than he’d like, but he pushed that anger aside:

“If you truly regretted Qui-Gon’s death, you wouldn’t work so hard today to destroy everything he stood for,” Obi-Wan said, his voice firm and unweathering. 

“You are mistaken, my young friend. You don’t see that yet, but I will show you.”

Dooku ignited his lightsaber once more and Obi-Wan barely had time to parry his first strike. Their blades clashed, and Obi-Wan was once more impressed by Dooku’s mastery of the Makashi form. The cramped space had him at a slight disadvantage and Dooku took the lead of the duel easily.  Obi-wan tried to gain ground but as soon as Dooku felt like he was losing control, he stepped back, turned his blade off, and let the magnaguards advance on Obi-Wan.

“So disappointing, Master Kenobi. Are you going easy on me because of my old age ? I know you can do better.”

Obi-Wan would have wanted to have a nice come back to throw at him, but the magnaguards closing in on him had his full attention. When the first one launched his attack, he dodged rapidly and parried the others, but he couldn’t escape the fourth one and a shock of electricity ran through him. With a pained scream, Obi-Wan fell on one knee. His best hope was to get the wall behind him and force the four droids to face him, but it would also cut his escape. He still took his chances and backed away, Dooku watching him from the other side of the room. The judging scrutiny stirred some rebellious instinct within him and Obi-Wan struck down the magnaguard in front of him by redirecting its strikes against itself, with perfect Soresu techniques. He then used the wall as support to push himself up and swirled above the droids heads. In the time it took them to turn on their heels, Obi-Wan had sliced through another. As its parts fell on the ground with a dull clang, Obi-Wan assumed a guard stance to keep both the two remaining droids and Dooku in his line of sight. Dooku’s gaze was more appraising now, but Obi-Wan refused to let it get to him once more. He took a deep breath and prepared to parry the next strike, but bolts of electricity shot from Dooku’s hand and sent him colliding with the desk. The shock left him breathless and made him drop his lightsaber, which turned down as it clashed on the ground.

“Now, that is more like it,” Dooku said. “There I see the man my generals loathe to hear the name of.”

Obi-Wan tried to stand up, but Dooku sent another wave of lightning and Obi-Wan was on the floor, crying out in pain. The two magnaguards came to stand around him, spears ready to resume Dooku’s work as the man called Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to him with the Force. His arms and legs shaking, Obi-Wan couldn’t move.

“Now, you and I will have a little chat,” Dooku said as he gestured for the magnaguard to finish the job. 

The last thing Obi-Wan saw before he lost consciousness was Dooku's victorious smirk. 

The world around Obi-Wan kept going from blurry to crystal clear then to nothingness as he struggled to remain conscious. His body ached all over and a pounding headache pressed on his temples. He battled the sweet release of falling back in deep slumber and willed himself to stay awake. As he did so, everything slowly came back into focus. He recognized the walls around him, the old and half faded carvings, the stone. He was still in the Naboo temple. It took his mind a moment to understand why he seemed to be floating: he was trapped within a containment field. Past its blue haze, Dooku was looking at him with an expression that Obi-Wan could almost qualify as warm. Almost.

“Ah, Master Kenobi. Back to the world of the living. You had me scared for a moment, I feared my magnaguards had been too rough on you.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan started, his tongue heavy and his mouth furred. “I can’t say that they can be distinguished by their gentleness.”

Dooku laughed while clasping his hands behind his back. He had taken his cape off and had gotten comfortable, which indicated to Obi-Wan that they were going to be there for a while.

“I see that your regular sarcasm is back on track, so you’re just fine,” Dooku said. “And now that you are no longer in the position to jump around, he can have a civilized conversation.”

“A civilized conversation would be one where both parties are seated around a table, possibly with refreshments and some nice petit four. Not with one of them restrained, hanging in the air, like some weird home decoration.”

Dooku laughed again, seemingly unaffected by Obi-Wan remarks.

“It is actually quite a usual setting for us, isn’t it ? Our first conversation happened just like this.”

“Will you be trying to convince me to join you today as well ? Because, if that is your plan, you can save your breath. Or are you going to try to use Qui-Gon as a bargaining chip again ?”

“Is that so inconceivable to you that Qui-Gon might agree with me ?” Dooku asked, appearing genuinely intrigued.

“That you left the Jedi Order, he could have definitely understood and forgiven, it was your right after all. But you didn’t stop there. You became a Sith. You work at imposing your will upon the galaxy no matter the suffering it brings, you strive to kill as many Jedi as you can, you lie, you manipulate and you enslave...Qui-Gon had his differences with the Council, I’m well aware of that, but he would have never condone any of that .”

“Qui-Gon disagreed with the Council on many things because he could see how far the Jedi had fallen from their original purpose. The Jedi Order has grown corrupted, complacent and useless. This is why I chose to leave. They are too political to do any good anymore. The Jedi have failed the galaxy. It owes them nothing anymore.”

“You accuse the Jedi Order of being corrupted so instead you join the Sith ? Who are corruption incarnated ? How does that make any sense ?” Obi-Wan spat, feeling anger rise inside him.

“It is the Jedi that call the Sith corrupted, but everything is a matter of point of view. In many ways, the Sith are purer of intent than the Jedi have ever been. They don’t lie to themselves. The Jedi pretend the Sith seek to control, but it is only because the Sith have the courage to act, instead of simply being carried by the flow of the Force. The Sith take actions, while the Jedi stagnate, in their principles and their narrow view of the universe. I had to do something to help the galaxy and the Jedi way was preventing me to.”

“The Jedi follow the will of the Force. The Sith defy it. The Jedi are one with the Force while the Sith want dominion over it,” Obi-Wan countered.

“And this is a bad thing because…?”

“By doing so they try to get dominion over everything else. They don’t care about anything or anyone but themselves. They bring chaos and suffering for their own gain and go against the natural order. You say you joined the Sith to help the galaxy but you can’t possibly believe the galaxy has become a better place lately ! It has become worse than ever.”

“Every birth happens in cries and blood, Obi-Wan, but what comes next is glorious. Once the Sith are in control, they will bring peace and stability. Order and prosperity.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, and nothing you can say will change that,” Obi-Wan said firmly but something in him remained uneasy at Dooku’s words.

“If only I could show you...You would understand ! The Republic is failing and has long stopped working. People deserve better than this farce of democracy that serves only a selected few instead of the greater good,” Dooku said, his voice heavy with conviction, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by the fact that Dooku firmly believed he was doing the right thing. That he was fighting to bring peace and order to the galaxy because the Republic couldn’t do it. He still saw himself as the better man. And, in a flash, his gut twisted at the thought that, probably, it was the very same feeling that might have pushed Anakin over the edge as well. Was that it ? He could see how Anakin, like so many Jedi, had grown bone deep tired of this war, how desperate he was to see it end. Did Sidious seduce him to the Dark Side by promising him an end to the horrors ? The thought sat horribly within him, and his guts turned as he looked at Dooku, wondering if Anakin had became the same kind of man, cold and indifferent to the atrocities he caused because he could justify it with this twisted logic ? Probably not, Anakin was far too hotblooded to ever become like Dooku.

“You can justify everything like this,” Obi-Wan whispered, not sure he was actually talking to Dooku.

Dooku said nothing, as he evidently had caught on to Obi-Wan's inner distress, but he was wrong about its source as he offered:

“You are welcome by my side, Obi-Wan. Join me, and help me. Together, we can end this madness. Join me, and become my apprentice. I will show you what the Dark Side truly is and why you shouldn’t fear it. You would be glorious, my friend. A glorious Sith, one that even Sidious would bow to. Together, we could destroy him, and shape the galaxy for the better.”

Bile rose in Obi-Wan’s throat at the thought. He couldn’t tell what was more terrifying, the fact that Dooku considered that he had all the making of a great Sith, or that, if the two of them joined forces, they could bring down the man clever and powerful enough to be responsible for this whole galactic mess, a man so bad he gave Anakin Skywalker, the famed Hero With No Fear, panic attacks. He swallowed painfully and said:

“I’m honored by such an invitation, but that would be awfully rude of me to abandon my own apprentice.”

“Ah yes, Skywalker’s pet Togruta,” Dooku said, a sardonic smile back on his lips and his haughty expression restored.  “Is she truly yours or do you simply look after the poor girl while her master is...where exactly ?”

Ah, so it finally came to that. He should have seen this coming. Anakin had all but disappeared from the face of the world and had given not a single sign that he was still alive. Only Ahsoka and himself knew that he was, because they had felt the brush of his mind against theirs several times. It was fleeting and quick, as if Anakin was simply checking that they were still there, alive and well, and left the moment he knew that they were fine. Ahsoka had told him she had felt a stronger connection after her misadventure on Wasskah and had shared her belief that Anakin had known that it would happen to her and that she would overcome, as she had felt her master’s pride and affection through their bond. It was the longest Anakin’s mind had brushed against one of theirs, and the clearer sign of life they’d got from him. They notified the Council every time it happened, and Obi-Wan’s heart warmed everytime that his fellow Council members expressed genuine relief and happiness at the thought that Anakin was alright, somewhere unknown, but alright. Of course his absence would have caught Dooku’s interest.

“I’m sorry but Jedi General Skywalker’s mission’s details are classified and I am not authorized to discuss them with anyone, especially not the enemy,” he replied with a fake innocent smile. 

“Where is Skywalker ?”

Straight to the point and without embellishment. Obi-Wan was suspecting that his presence here has  more to do than just to sway him to the Dark Side.

“Surprising as it may sound, I happen to have not a single idea as to where Anakin could possibly be at the moment,” he said with his most civil voice.

“Now, that isn’t just surprising, it’s also hardly believable,” Dooku said coming closer, his voice dripping with menace. “Shall we try again, Master Kenobi ?”

“Oh, back to “Master Kenobi” ? And here I thought we were warming up to each other.”

“Well, you blatantly lying to my face tends to sour my mood and my dispositions towards you. So I ask again: where is Skywalker ?”

“And I say again: I have no idea. And do you honestly believe that, even if I did, I would tell you ? You know better.”

The smile that graced Dooku’s lips promised pain, so Obi-Wan braced himself for it:

“Oh, I do.”

Dooku raised his hand and lightning shot toward him. Obi-Wan cried out as electricity ferociously bit his body, his nerves ablaze, his muscles shaking but the shackles of the containment field holding him in place. His vision went white and his lungs were twitching violently, so he couldn’t breathe properly and oxygen was starting to become an issue. The pain was agonising, and Obi-Wan couldn’t think of anything else, and how he wouldn’t be able to take it much longer. Just as he thought so, Dooku lowered his hand and the flow of lightning died away. Obi-Wan’s head dropped and hung heavily as he tried to catch his breath, his body agitated by sporadic convulsions.  Dooku stepped closer and said with a honeyed voice:

“We both know that torture won’t loosen your tongue, not right now anyway, but at least you don’t doubt my commitment in getting the answer I seek.”

“Why do you care, anyway ?” Obi-Wan said with great difficulties, his body unwilling to work with him, but his mind still sharp despite the brutal haze the electric shock had first sent him into. “I never got the impression you liked Anakin very much, why care about him if you can barely stand the sight of him ?”

“Come now, Master Kenobi. You wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep his location silent if it were not relevant. Despite my personal dislike for Skywalker I cannot deny that he is a menace. A wild card that the Council can barely control, so I dare not imagine the damages he is capable of while left entirely on his own. And I am not the only one baffled by his unexpected capacity for discretion. His mission must be of high importance if he’s putting so much effort into it. I wonder what that mission might be…”

Obi-Wan managed to scoff:

“I didn’t answer your first question, I’m definitely not answering that one either.”

Dooku sighed and the sound came out deceivingly genuine but the hard look in his eyes told otherwise:

“Must you always be so difficult…”

He raised his hand again and before anything could happen Obi-Wan tried:

“Didn’t we agreed on the fact that torture wouldn’t get me more talkative ?”

“I said it wouldn’t loosen your tongue. But a weakened body leads to a weakened mind. And yours will talk when your tongue remains silent.”

Obi-Wan really disliked the truth behind those words, and as another wave of lightning crashed onto him, he feared that a prolonged time under this treatment might just do the trick. Dooku was relentless, and when Obi-Wan thought he would stop the onslaught, he only renewed its ferocity. Then it stopped and Obi-Wan had to blink several times before the room came back into focus. A magnaguard was approaching Dooku, and the sound of its artificial voice came to Obi-Wan’s ear as if his head was put under and out of water repeatedly:

“MastER, we HAve ReceIVed wOrdS that GeneRAl GrievOUS has been cAPTurED by the GunGANs.”

“WHAT ?!” Dooku’s voice boomed and reverberated against the walls, his face suddenly contorted in a hideous mask of fury. “How ? How could such primitive beings manage that ?”

“They shut down the droid army and General Grievous had to face the Gungan army alone. They overpowered him with numbers, and the sacrifice of one of their own generals.” 

The news instantly brought Obi-Wan full attention back to the moment, as if his body understood as well as his mind how much of a shocking and welcome turn of events this was. How the tables had quickly turned. 

“Keep an eye on the prisoner,” Dooku instructed with cold rage. “I must inform Lord Sidious of this immediately.”

As he left briskly, Obi-Wan knew it would only be a short respite. What had been a clandestine interrogation done in the shadows would now turn into something far more intense with the weight of the colossal shift in the war that the capture of Grievous would initiate. Dooku had been only teasing so far. He would become much more aggressive and implacable. Obi-Wan didn’t let fear take over his mind and rule his decisions. He couldn’t escape, the only thing he could do was prepare for the best. He closed his eyes and retreated into the fortress of his own mind, and started the heavy work of consolidating its fortifications. He would need all of his strength and all of his cunning if he wanted to withstand the storm coming to lay ruin to it.

Dooku breathed a little more lightly as Darth Sidious seemed more anxious than furious upon learning what had unfolded on Naboo. His cloaked figure was grimly contemplative and he said calmly:

“This turn of event is most unfortunate. General Grievous is a critical part in my plan for the Clone Wars. He must not remain captive.”

“What is to be done, my Lord ?” Dooku asked, comforted by the knowledge that Sidious always had contingencies for every possible scenario. 

The Dark Lord of the Sith rubbed his chin pensively, as if he was calculating what course of action would cost them the less and earn them the most.

“You must negotiate a prisoner exchange between Grievous and Kenobi,” Sidious said at last.

“How can you be certain the Republic will trade Grievous for Kenobi ?”

“I am not, but either way, you can prevail. Present the offer to Senator Amidala. She will be reluctant to abandon her friend, no matter the cost. Give her an hour to make her decision. It will give you enough time to worm out information from Kenobi and for me to prepare a rescue mission and extract team for the general. If Senator Amidala agrees, we will still have what we wanted, and there will be more opportunities if needs be. And we will have our precious pawn back. If she declines, then you will have plenty of time to interrogate Kenobi more thoughtfully, and I can orchestrate Grievous’ escape during his extraction to Coruscant.”

“It will be done as you wish, my Lord. I will not disappoint you.” Dooku said with a respectful bow of his head.

“You’d better not,” Sidious replied, tone laced with menace, then he ended the communication. 

Dooku immediately went to work, sending orders and making preparations for a quick and furtive departure of the planet. 

***

Padmé was pacing, again. It had become a habit she was sure she would never be able to get rid off. Everything seemed to go well. Boss Leonie was awake and, with the help of the nurse and Jar Jar, sitting upright in his bed. The Gungans had understood they had been manipulated into siding with the Separatists and, even if their well founded frustration toward the Naboo and the Mon Cala refugees hadn’t vanished, they were much more willing to work with them, rather than against them. Grievous had been captured and a special force composed of Gungan soldiers and Naboo Royal Security Force had secured him in a high security cell deep within Otoh Gunga. His capture was a massive turning point, and would shift the course of the war. They could destabilize the Separatists’ leadership, get the upper hand in treaties’ negotiations or ceasefires, they could get the surrender of the weaker links and gain ground. They could obtain the surrender of the Separatists’ Senate.

But, in spite of all those good news and bright prospects, Padmé was restless. Obi-Wan had been gone for hours now, and still no sign of him. Ahsoka, who stood leaning against a transparisteel wall without moving, was worried too, even if she tried to hide it, certainly to spare her even more apprehension, but Padmé could tell that the young girl had her mind swirling.

“He should be back by now,” she finally said, unable to hold it back any longer. “We should send someone after him. Ahsoka, did you see in what direction he pursued Risha Loo ? Could you find him ? Pick up his trail, or sense his presence ?”

“I could try,” the Padawan said, “but I don’t feel comfortable leaving this place without another Jedi to keep an eye on Grievous. He might be contained, but I don’t even trust him as far as I can throw him. He will try something to escape. I may not be able to defeat him, but I can at least stall him.”

“You’re right,” Padmé was forced to admit. “Still I would feel better if someone could find him. I’ll comm Telka and Ellé.”

Just as she said so, her comm unit beeped, warning of an incoming call from Obi-Wan.

“Finally !” Padmé exclaimed as Ahsoka rushed by her side.

But as she turned to holo on, it was not the face of her friend that greeted her, for the tall and dark figure of Count Dooku. 

“Senator Amidala, we meet again,” the Count said, visibly delighted by the gasp that had escaped Jar Jar and her own disconcerted face. “I must regretfully inform you that Master Kenobi has been detained.”

“What have you done with Obi-Wan ?” she asked, a touch of anger before Dooku’s smug expression helping her regain her contenance.

“Now, now, Senator, let’s not become emotional.”

“What do you want, Dooku ?” she countered, feeling Ahsoka tense beside her.

“I’m glad you ask. I could be persuaded to return Master Kenobi to you in exchange for General Grievous.”

Ahsoka took a sharp intake of breath that only Padmé could hear, but she knew it didn’t come from surprise. The young Togruta had expected this the second Dooku had appeared instead of Obi-Wan, just like Padmé had. And it didn’t make what had to be said any easier.

“I...I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“You soon will be,” Dooku threatened and  a slight gesture of his hand brought into the holo’s range the sight of Obi-Wan, shackled in a containment field, who was approached by a magnaguard. The droid struck him with his spear, and Obi-Wan cried out as electricity ran through his body.

“Stop !” Ahsoka exclaimed. “You cannot torture a prisoner !”

The magnaguard backed away while Dooku said with a sardonic smile:

“Torture ? I don’t know what you mean, young Padawan. But I…”

Dooku’s words were cut by Obi-Wan’s voice rising from behind him, shaking but resolute:

“Don’t listen to him. Don’t make the trade.”

The magnaguard struck him again to silence him.

“That’s enough !” Padmé ordered. “You’re going too far, Dooku.”

“Master Kenobi can be returned to your good care, Senator. You know my terms.”

“Don’t do it, Padmé !” Obi-Wan cried out again. “Don’t let Grievous out of your sight. Please, I’m begging you, this could end the war. Ahsoka, it’s an order !”

The magnaguard shut him once more, and Dooku refocused the holo back on him:

“I’ll give you an hour to consider my proposition. I’m sure you will make the right choice.”

His image faded and Padmé felt like an avalanche of sharp stones had fallen in her stomach. She locked eyes with Ahsoka, and knew that they were both thinking the same thing.

“Yousa have to trade with him,” Jar Jar said as if it was the simplest thing to do.

“I can’t, Jar Jar. Obi-Wan is right, with Grievous capture, we could win the war,” Padmé said, hating every word.

“But Padmé, hesa our friend.”

“I know, Jar Jar. I know,” she sighed.

“Obi-Wan gave me a direct order,” Ahsoka said carefully, “which means a direct order from a Council Member. Technically, I can’t directly go against it, but I will, if we can find something out. There has to be something we can do, right ? I understand what’s at stake, but we can’t just leave him within Dooku’s dirty claws.”

“You think I don’t know that ?” Padmé said. “But what can we do ? We have no idea where they are !”

“Weren’t you about to dispatch Tekla and Ellé ?” Ahsoka asked as she took Padmé’s hand to ground her. “They know this planet as well as you, they can find traces of them, if not their whereabouts, while we get this matter to the Queen and the Council.”

Padmé smiled and squeezed her hand back. She had to keep a cool head and not let her emotions cloud her judgement. Ahsoka was right to remind her that. The young Togruta had every right to be the one losing her calm now: her grandmaster and temporary master was being held captive and torture by the leader of the Separatist army, who happened to also be her grand-something-master, and she risked losing him, right after she had lost her first master. Yet she was here, keeping her emotions from getting the best of her, and reminding her to do the same. She had grown so much.

“You’re right,” she said. “We can’t decide anything by ourselves. See if you can gather the Council and I will alert the Queen.”

Five minutes later, a small meeting had gathered in the infirmary so that Boss Leonie could attend as well. Padmé, Ahsoka, the Queen’s head of security and captain were there in person, and Queen Neeyutnee, Chancellor Palpatine, Jedi Masters Yoda, Windu, Koon and Mundi attended via holo. Padmé was quick to explain the situation and she was relieved to see that every single person seemed as conflicted as she was. The four Jedi Masters were keeping straight faces, but she had come to know them well enough, and the drop of Master Yoda’s ears was telling of his true feelings.

“Well, this is most unfortunate,” Palpatine said, his voice sad but his body language radiating certainty, and Padmé knew he had already made up his mind. “Master Kenobi is a valued member of the Jedi Order and a successful General, whose courage and devotion to the Republic cannot be doubted. Yet we cannot afford to put his life above those of every other citizen of the Republic and of those suffering under the Separatist’s oppression. I’m sorry but we cannot agree to this trade.”

Padmé wanted very badly to say something, but held her tongue, as she was certain the Chancellor would accuse her, gently and without any malevolence, but accuse her all the same, to put her friendship with Obi-Wan before the well-being of the Republic. She didn’t think any less, though, and was ready to bargain for a plan where they could both keep Grievous locked down and save Obi-Wan. Fortunately, Queen Neeyutnee intervened:

“Surely there is something we can do, Chancellor. General Kenobi has been a long time friend of our planet, and has helped us and our people, both Nabooians and Gungans, in our times of greatest need. We cannot, in good conscience, leave him to this fate.”

“I am well aware of Master Kenobi’s long lasting relationship with Naboo, Your Majesty,” Palpatine said, and Padmé would have swore she heard a little bit of irritation in his tone, as if he didn’t appreciate much to be reminded of Naboo’s debts toward Obi-Wan. “But I must ensure the safety and stability of trillions of people. And if Master Kenobi’s life is the price to pay, then I will pay it, no matter how much it costs me, personally.”

“Forgive me, Chancellor,” Ahsoka interrupted, “ but Senator Amidala and I were already working on finding out Master Obi-Wan’s location. For him to be captured by Dooku means the Count is on the planet and it is very unlikely that he left already. If we can find them before the hour is over, we can put a rescue operation together and still keep custody of General Grievous.”

“And if Master Kenobi cannot be located before the end of the hour ?” the Chancellor asked.

“It won’t change much,” Ahsoka replied and Padmé smiled with pride at how sure of herself she sounded, how she didn’t falter before the Chancellor. “It will still take time to transfer Grievous to Coruscant. Count Dooku will most definitely try to free him at the transfer's most vulnerable point, which would be during the journey from Naboo to Coruscant, which means he will not leave Naboo nor its vicinity anytime soon, and that gives us an opportunity.”

“That would mean diverting precious resources from ensuring that Grievous cannot escape, as he’s so skilled at,” the Chancellor countered, and even if his points were rational and valid, Padmé couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t willing to hear anything that would go against what he had already decided. She glanced at the Council Members and had the distinct feeling that they remained silent from now only to better judge the situation but would have no doubt a lot to say. 

Ahsoka, on the other hand, wasn’t done saying her piece and the Chancellor’s constant rebuttals had her temper visibly rising. 

“But we can’t sit on our hands and do nothing,” she exclaimed. “Obi-Wan is a valuable member of the Jedi Order and the GAR. We are already down one of our most successful generals, we can’t afford to lose another !”

The words left her mouth before she could hold them back and she bit her lips the second they were out. Master Windu and Master Mundi gave her an empathetic look while Master Koon sighed silently, his shoulders dropping. Palpatine was looking at her pensively:

“You are Anakin’s Padawan, are you not, young one ?” he asked kindly. 

Ahsoka nodded.

“Ahsoka Tano, right ? Yes, Anakin talks a lot about you. He sounds very proud and fond of you. And dare I guess that Master Kenobi has taken you under his wing until Anakin returns to us ?”

Ahsoka nodded once more, this time with some fierceness in her gaze.

“Then I understand how difficult this must be for you, my child. You are still very young and following the Jedi principle of putting the need of the group before the needs of one individual must still be a struggle, yet in this situation I’m afraid I cannot take any decision based on your feelings. Furthermore, I do recall Senator Amidala telling us that Master Kenobi very explicitly told you he didn’t want to be saved. Master Kenobi chose his fate and put the greater good before himself.”

Ahsoka’s cheek turned a shade darker than their usual color as she blushed out of shame and vexation.

“Right, the Chancellor is,” Yoda voice cut in, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He was no longer wearing that mask of neutral attention he’d worn before, and instead a deep sadness could be read on his wrinkled face. He seemed suddenly as old as he truly was, and to see him so downcast filled Padmé with dread.

“With Grievous in custody, achieve victory we can,” he carried on. “Dear to me, Obi-Wan is. But sacrifice him, I must. Selfish, we cannot be. Respect his wishes, we can. Ahsoka, Anakin’s worthy apprentice, you are. But let go of Obi-Wan, you now must.”

A heavy silence fell onto the room, and Padmé discreetly found Ahsoka’s hand and held it strongly. Ahsoka’s grip was bone crushing, but Padmé didn’t mind. The teenager was certainly forcing herself not to say anything more.

“Then it is decided,” Palpatine said. “Senator Amidala, inform Count Dooku that the Republic will not agree to the trade. I will begin preparation for Grievous’ transportation to Coruscant, and I will come back to you.”

His holo faded, and as soon as it did, Ahsoka’s dam broke:

“You can’t do this, Masters ! We can’t abandon Obi-Wan ! He’s one of us, not some...disposable junk piece to be thrown away as soon as it gets problematic ! Anakin would never forgive us if he comes back and Obi-Wan is gone ! That would only make him f…”

She stopped abruptly and her eyes went wide as her hands flew to her mouth to cover it, as if she only realised now the tone she just took and to whom she was speaking, and had caught herself before she went too far. But the tinge of horror in her gaze didn’t seem directed at her masters. Neither of them looked offended by her words nor ready to reprimand her. They simply looked between each-other, and Padmé was certain they were speaking at length without them knowing better.

“I must say I disagree with the Chancellor,” the Queen said darkly. “Naboo might not be known for the greatness of its warriors, but I’m certain we can do something. There is one thing the Naboo know very well and that is our planet. Senator, you said you wanted to send two of your handmaidens to search for Master Kenobi ?”

“I did. Telka and Ellé are the best among my people when it comes to tracking, and Ellé grew up traveling with her peddlers parents. She knows Naboo like the back of her hand.”

“When did they leave for that mision you assigned them to ?” Master Windu asked.

“When...I didn’t...had the time to call them already,” Padmé answered, puzzled.

“When did they leave, Senator ?” Master Windu asked again, this time giving her a pointed look.

Padmé’s mind finally clicked and hope rose within her again:

“Just about a few minutes before we gathered for this meeting.”

“It is a shame they failed to hear their holocommunicators’ beep and you couldn’t therefore call them back here,” Master Koon remarked.

Padmé’s smile was rueful now:

“A shame yes.”

“Little Soka, do you think you could use your bond with Obi-Wan to sense his presence ?”

“I can try, but our bond is still fragile and Dooku will certainly hide both their presences. But I will do my best.”

“One thing, though,” Yoda said. “One chance only we have. If fail to find Obi-Wan in the given time we do, then accept his loss we must. Hope to save him, I do, but right the Chancellor is too. If too much it requires to free Obi-Wan, then give up we must. Agree on this, do we ?”

They all agreed but the captain of the queen’s guard looked at them all with hesitation and dared:

“I’m sorry I understand what we are trying to do, but going against a direct order from the Chancellor ? Isn’t it going to blow up in our faces ? When he learns about that…”

“Then we make sure he doesn’t,” the queen said in a conspiratorial tone.

“But if we succeed, then he will understand we did something…”

“The handmaidens were already dispatched and couldn’t be reached,” Master Windu said. “And as Master Yoda said, Ahsoka is Skywalker’s worthy apprentice, it is not unheard of for them to ignore the Council’s orders. She will of course receive proper punishment back at the Temple, as it is, after all, a Jedi matter.”

Yoda winked at Ahsoka and Padmé knew that said punishment wouldn’t be harsh.

“The Chancellor never specified that I had to give my answer to Dooku right away. So we have now less than an hour to make our move,” Padmé said firmly. “Let’s not waste anymore time !”

***

Obi-Wan’s mind was under attack. Secluded inside the safety of his inner sanctum, he was managing his defenses but, if he could slow Dooku’s advance, he failed at stopping him. No matter the towering ramparts behind which he withdrew, the traps laid in the Count’s way, and Obi-Wan’s resilience, the dark presence was invading every interstice, overtaking years upon years of carefully nurtured defenses. Tendrils of shadows weaved their way into Obi-Wan’s no man’s land, cracking the stone of the high walls, turning soft earth in dead sand and suffocating air itself. 

Obi-Wan felt his strength waning, as the power of Dooku’s attack grew in intensity. He deduced that the fateful hour given to Padmé must be drawing to an end, and Dooku’s time to get the answers he seeked along with it. Obi-Wan desperately hoped Padmé would refuse the trade, even though part of him knew with certainty that she would never allow such an end. Padmé was a remarkable woman, strong and dedicated, but she was also willing to go back on her principle when it came to the people she cared about the most. She had refused Anakin’s advances at the start, only to be the one to propose in the end. He couldn’t blame her, he loved her for this compassionate heart of hers, but right now, even with his own life in the balance, he couldn’t let that get in the way of what had to be done. 

The Republic had to give him up to keep Grievous, and he had to protect Anakin. That had been his life purpose ever since he had held his dying master in his arms, even if he himself hadn’t realised it at the moment. He’d swore to train the boy, but when he found himself with this bright but lost child, cut off from everything he’d known and thrown in a world he didn’t understand and that was wary of him, that little boy with big eyes filled with wonder by day but that sneaked into his bedroom to sleep on his floor at night out of fear of waking up alone and abandoned, that child with a heart of gold and powers that set him so appart it drowned him in loneliness...how could he have not decided on the spot that he would guard this child with his life ? 

Now Anakin was a grown man, a man he no longer knew or understood but whose purpose was clear and his mission vital. He longed for their reunion and the understanding he hoped it would bring. He wanted to get to know Anakin again, to gain his trust again. And he could start right here by throwing himself between Anakin and Dooku. So he held fast, kept his crumbling fortress standing no matter what assaults Dooku threw against its walls, shielded any thought about Anakin and Mortis, and drew without care inside the well of his strength and his connection to the Force. He had to stand his ground until his body finally failed him and, if not death, then a coma engulfed him, or until his friends found a way to get him out of here. 

And suddenly, the attacks stopped and an eerie silence fell into the ravaged landscape of his mind. From within his inner sanctum, he was vaguely aware of Dooku’s voice but the Count wasn’t talking to him. It came to him from afar and echoed faintly: 

“So, I suspect you have considered my offer, Senator Amidala. Now what might your answer be ?”

Padmé’s voice reached him too, sweet and familiar, and bringing back some life into him just by the sound of it. And even though that sweet sound signed his death warrant, it gave him hope in the knowledge that, at least, the Republic would have something to show for it:

“I cannot accept your offer, Dooku. I’m sorry, but General Grievous will remain in the Republic’s custody and be tried for his crimes against it.”

“So you abandon Master Kenobi to my care ? How coldhearted of you, Senator !”

“I am not the coldhearted one between the two of us, Dooku. And if you think this decision doesn’t cost me, you are mistaken. But the good of the Republic comes first. This is only the first step toward your defeat. I’m sure Obi-Wan will find comfort in this knowledge. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a monster to get rid off. We’ll meet again for your surrender.”

Obi-Wan willed what he could of his mind to focus on what was in front of his bleary eyes. It turned out to be a terrible idea because, even if Dooku’s furious expression was a real treat, it reminded him of the deep aching of his body. His muscles were sore and petrified after so many onslaughts of electricity, his breath came out wheezing and each intake on oxygen expanded his lunges in such a way that made his ribcage send painful shocks down to his spine, and his head felt like it was being crushed in a vice, his skull folding on itself under the pressure while his blood vessels were ready to burst. Obi-Wan knew he was coming close to his limit. Yet, a small smile managed to creep its way on his cracked lips. Grievous would be dealt with, the CSI would take the greatest blow since the beginning of the war, and all he now had to do was to protect Anakin. 

“It changes nothing,” Dooku said as he noticed Obi-Wan's weak smile. “My master already has a plan in motion to free Grievous, and you and I now have plenty of time ahead of us for me to break you and you to start singing.”

The Count gestured for the magnaguard:

“Have my shuttle prepared and make the arrangement for Master Kenobi’s transportation. Our Jedi friend will be leaving the planet with us.”

The droid left and Dooku turned back his full attention to Obi-Wan.

“Now.”

He had to protect Anakin. 

“Where were we, Master Kenobi ?”

The smile of Dooku’s face stirred a fear within Obi-Wan he never knew was there.

He had to protect Anakin !

Dooku attacked with relentless strength and, as his body was shaking under the cruel bites of lightning, his mind was assaulted by suffocating tendrils of the Dark Side.

He had to protect Anakin. 

Protect Anakin…

He couldn’t take the pain anymore. This attack was worse than anything Dooku had used before. It wasn’t filled only with purpose, it was also ladened with the pure joy of seeing him suffering.

Anakin . 

He had to protect him.

He dropped all his defenses and walled himself in the last thread of his strength, making a diamond-like shield around him, upon which Dooku’s power and will crashed and hammered upon vehemently.

Anakin !

***

The power of the shock threw him out of meditation, and Anakin found himself unable to catch his breath, propelled on one elbow on Atollon’s rocky ground. He was vaguely aware of Yuve’s hands on him, and the voices of the Blue Sun ’s crew calling him out. But his mind couldn’t concentrate on them, still reeling from the potency of the blast it just took. A sharp slap against his cheek recentered his focus on his immediate surroundings. He looked up at Yuve:

“That wasn’t necessary,” he said with a touch of accusation. 

“Wasn’t it ?” she replied. 

She looked genuinely afraid and concerned. Tarek and Pala appeared in his sightline, and they all wore the same expression.

“Are you okay ?” Pala wondered. “You were sitting still like a stone and all of a sudden it was as if you were having a stroke or a panic attack…”

“What happened ?” Tarek questioned gently.

What had happened ?

Anakin tried to remember where he was and why he was here. Yes, Atollon. In the three weeks since their mission on Oba Diah, he and the Blue Sun had taken the habit of meeting here. He was now juggling between his time on Mortis where he kept training and helped the Father in taking care of Silman, Nar Shaddaa where he had already fulfilled two more jobs for Grakkus, and Atollon, where he trained with Bendu as well and met with his news friends to plan for Grakkus’ downfall and work on the datas they managed to pull daily from the Pykes archives. They had settled next to Bendu’s pit and, as the Force being never showed his face to anyone but Anakin, he had sat down on the pit to meditate while the weekly income of datas was examined by the computer in case of corrupted data or viruses.

There, as per usual he had let himself become one with the planet, still trying to find his way to the other side of the supernova without losing himself, when his bond with Obi-Wan had burst into flame and the all too familiar sensation of electricity running through him as Obi-Wan’s mind screamed in agony within his own had shocked him back to awareness. 

“Obi-Wan…” he murmured. 

Then he realised what that pain meant and a wave of panic shook him so poignantly that he shook the ground around them. Pala and Tarek battled to keep their balance and Yuve looked around, trying to understand what was going on, until her eyes laid on Anakin and she understood he was the one doing it. She took his face between her hands and forced him to look at her in the eyes.

“Anakin, calm down,” she said, extremely calm herself. “Take a deep breath. In and out, slowly.”

But Anakin didn’t listen to her, his mind already trying to go back up the link between his former master and him.

“Obi-Wan !” he said in a whisper. “He’s in trouble. He’s in pain.”

The ground shook even more, and Pala and Tarek fell on their knees as the edges of a coral formation close by broke down. Yuve stayed calm and, still holding his face, gently rubbed her thumbs under Anakin’s eyes:

“Focus on me. You won’t help him by shattering the ground here. Come back to yourself first.”

“Your friend is right, listen to her.”

The deep, rumbling voice of Bendu broke through the air, and that alone was able to snap Anakin back into the moment. Pala yelped in surprise as she saw the massive being behind her, Tarek reflexively took a few steps back and Yuve’s eyes grew wide.

“What the kr…” she mumbled.

Bendu stood tall, looking down at them with a serious expression.

“Regain control of yourself, Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One. I would appreciate it if you did not break apart my home.”

“I’m sorry…” Anakin said, half sheepishly, half unfocused still.

Bendu stared at him, without doubt sensing the maelstrom of conflicting emotions swirling inside Anakin.

“What has you so riled up, if I may ask ?”

“It’s Obi-Wan. He’s in danger, tortured. I felt it as if it was me. I…”

He wasn’t sure what to say. Once, he would have relished the idea of Obi-Wan being in such pain, a pain still paling in comparison to the one Obi-Wan had inflicted on him and with which he had to live with for twenty-five years. To have him finally taste just a sliver of what he had to endure for more than two decades. But this instinct had washed away as soon as it had risen up inside him. Now, the thought of Obi-Wan suffering so was unbearable. 

“I have to help him !” Anakin said at last, sure of what he wanted.

Bendu made a low rumble noise that sounded like he approved of Anakin’s determination. He let his piercing gaze meet Anakin’s and Anakin put all of his determination into it. He would do something, no matter Bendu’s opinion. Bendu’s smile was playful when he replied:

“Then it is a good opportunity to see how far you have come since the first time you came on my quiet and uneventful planet. Sit, and your friends might want to stand back.”

Anakin looked at the three of them and gave them a simple nod. They all seemed rather lost, not understanding what was going on, but wise enough to know better than to stand in the way. They left him alone in the pit to go stand on its upper edges while he sat back in a meditative posture.

“What do I do ?” he asked Bendu.

“Follow the bond that links you to your friend. Then, it is up to you to decide what to do. And to discover what you can do.”

He was too used to Bendu’s nebulous instructions to notice anymore, so he did as he was told. He closed his eyes and went deep within his own mind, in the middle of the unending four dimensions labyrinth that was now his psyche, where he kept safe and protected the two remaining unbroken bonds he had. He casted a glance at the two others, one made of bright and soothing light, that started strong and steady only to fade slowly and disappear entirely. Deep melancholy clenched his heart this sight and even if he knew this bond would never connect him to Luke anymore, he treasured it more than he could put it into words. The other one, kept alone at a good distance from the others, was black and oily and dripping with unhealthy possessiveness. It was battered and nipped in some places, threatening to come undone. It was the bond tethering him to Palpatine. It had been there when he’d come back and Anakin couldn’t tell if it had been there the first time or if he’d bring it along. It was so damaged that it couldn’t be of any use to Palpatine and Anakin had tried to get rid of it, but couldn’t resolve to go through it in the end. If it had been there the first time, if he destroyed it, Palpatine would feel it and start to question Anakin’s loyalty and sway towards him. Plus, it might come in handy for the final part of his plan, as much as the very idea of it made him physically sick. For now it was contained far from his other bonds. 

Turning toward Obi-Wan’s and Ahsoka’s, he studied them more closely than he had ever since he had come back. The one with Ahsoka was in perfect condition, unchanging and shimmering with a white/blue glow pulsing gently along its length like a heartbeat. A good portion of it was fading to almost invisibility only to reappear stronger than before. Obi-Wan’s was quite different, braided with many threads of various colors and fabrics, some soft and glowing with inner light, some cold and polished like metal. It kept on like this for a good length, until it turned abruptly all into black friable charcoal. It looked nearly dead, like a burnt corpse breaking down to almost nothing until it reformed and resumed its multicolored braiding, with an even greater number of threads. 

Raising his hand, Anakin approached the bond. As he let it hover above the braided link, he could feel all the emotions that it encompassed. Love, resentment, joy, bitterness, trust, suspicion...Until he reached the burnt part and was assaulted by hate, anger, pain, betrayal and fury. His relationship with Obi-Wan had always been a complex one, and one he had never been willing to look up too closely, refusing to acknowledge or even see the parts where bad feelings were festering like a wound that wouldn’t heal. He had loved Obi-Wan like a father, like a brother and a best friend. He had wanted to make him proud, to be a worthy Padawan and a friend upon whom he could always rely. He had looked up to him as everything a Jedi could and should be. And he had envied him for how easy it was for him to be so and he had resented him just the same. Because of how Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi, deep to his very bone, he had mistrusted him every time he should have confided in him, fearing his judgement and believing that he would never understand, that he would remind him of all the ways he was lacking. And when Obi-Wan showed him that he was not, in fact, the perfect Jedi, Anakin had resented him for that too, for proving Anakin wrong in his understanding of him, and therefore wrong in decisions he had made according to those beliefs. Anakin had loved Obi-Wan with all his heart, but had never let him see said heart, and in doing so, had refused to see Obi-Wan’s. And this braided link of conflicting fabrics and emotions was the result of this. But, just as its rebirth at the end of the burnt part showed him, he could still mend it and change all of this. He wasn’t given a second chance only to fulfill his destiny. He could repair what he had broken. 

And that started by finding out what was wrong with Obi-Wan right now.

He let the bond absorb him and let his mind travel along it, searching for Obi-Wan’s presence in this vast galaxy. It shined dimly, flickering from muffled down to almost nothing, as if it was fighting to stay awake. Anakin locked onto it, following the bond leading him to it across the great emptiness of space. When, at last, Anakin mind brushed against Obi-Wan’s, he received no answer, so he carefully stepped into it. He had seen the fortress of Obi-Wan’s mind before and, if he hadn’t known that he was in the same place right at this very moment, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. Gone were the perfectly crafted rows upon rows of high walls, flawless and impregnable. He was standing on an endless barren field filled with ruins, where a fog of sweltering shadows reeking of the Dark Side stagnated. This fog was particularly thick around a perfectly round diamond the size of a man. The fog was eroding it slowly but inevitably. Anakin understood that it was Obi-Wan’s last defense against whatever or whoever had wrecked such complete havoc upon the landscape of his mind. 

Anakin concentrated with all his might, determined to find out what could have possibly happened to push Obi-Wan so far. He focused on his former master’s presence in the Force, on the Force all around him and saw the tendrils of it, bright and moving slowly like seaweed in a current, looking just like those coming out of his supernova. Anakin cast away his fear of them. He had no time for that. His old friend needed him. So he grabbed them by the handful, and was thrust into a dimly lit room with carved stone walls and without windows. Obi-Wan was imprisoned in a containment field, his body limp and his head was hanging heavily, his eyes opened but unseeing. Before him, a hand resting on each of Obi-Wan’s temples, stood Dooku. His eyes were closed and his expression was focused. Obi-Wan suddenly shivered from head to toe, and Dooku said with a honeyed voice:

“Come now, Master Kenobi, resisting is futile. Your battle is nearly lost, your suffering could end now if you only told me where he is.”

Obi-Wan’s lips moved and a small sound came out, but judging by Dooku’s frustrated frown, it wasn’t the words he wanted to hear.

“Tell me, now. Tell me ! Where ? Where is Skywalker ?”

And then, Anakin was hit at full force by the realisation that Obi-Wan was being tortured because he was protecting him. He refused to tell Dooku what he knew about Anakin’s current location or mission, to the point where Dooku had laid waste to his mind. A powerful wave of protectiveness and rightful anger rose within Anakin and, without thinking much about it, he slashed the air with his hand to throw Dooku far away from Obi-Wan. He didn’t expect it to work, he just wanted Dooku to leave Obi-Wan alone and never lay a hand on him ever again. But Dooku flew through the room and crashed heavily against the opposite wall with a crack, and slid to the ground. With a pained whine, the old man straightened as much as he could. As Anakin stepped to stand between Obi-Wan and Dooku, the Count looked frantically around, trying to understand what could have happened. Behind his back, Anakin distinctly heard a sigh of relief coming out of Obi-Wan. Even knowing the man couldn’t see him as he wasn’t truly there, he looked the Sith dead in the eyes and said in a tone that broke no argument:

“You will never touch him again.”

It wasn’t a threat like Vader could have hung above an underling or an enemy, or even a menace the Jedi General would have blurted out in anger like the child he was. It was a fact, indisputable and set in stone, claimed with the icy calm demeanour of the man who had crossed the galaxy with his mind to change the rules of the game. His certainty was so strong he felt it fill the room, and for a brief moment he saw Dooku looking in his direction, his eyes widening in surprise and a bit of fear, as if he could see him standing right there and sense his immutable resolve. Fear soon vanished from Dooku’s gaze to be replaced by cold fury, and he pushed himself from the ground. But Anakin would not have it. Before Dooku could stand, he raised his hand and said:

“No. Down.”

And just like he did with Silman, he used the Force to put Dooku to sleep, completely bypassing any defenses the man had in place. The Count crumpled gracelessly on the ground, unconscious. Considering that he clearly could have snapped his neck or bashed his head against the wall, Anakin thought that he had been marvelously restrained. The Sith wouldn’t be a problem for a while.

Anakin then turned to Obi-Wan and walked up to him, close enough to touch him. He hadn’t twitched, his gaze still empty, still locked inside his own mind. It hurt Anakin to see him like this. His mentor, his friend and his betrayer, or so he had believed for so long. Taking a deep breath, Anakin raised both his hands and used the Force to free Obi-Wan from his shackles and the containment field, and to gently catch him and sit him on the floor against the wall. Obi-Wan’s body was like an old stringless puppet. Anakin knelt beside him, wondering how he could help him, then a thought came to him. During his first year of rehabilitation on Mortis, Qui-Gon and the Father had shown him how to nurture the flora as an exercise in precision, to reacustom him to use the Force for caring and preserving life and remind him that he could fix and heal more than just ships. It was an exercise that took him a good deal of time to master but one he had grown to love and excel at. The trick was to share just the right amount of his own life-force and energy and use the Force to find and provide what the plant needed up until it could find it on its own. Not enough and the plant would wither. Too much and as soon as Anakin withdrew, it would lose its support and wither or consume too much and heal itself to the point of self-destruction. He could try and do the same with Obi-Wan.

He knelt beside him, took Obi-Wan’s face between his phantom-like hands just like Yuve had done with him and brought their foreheads together. As soon as they touched, Anakin drew from the bottomless well of his energy and started to direct it toward Obi-Wan’s body, using their bond to secure the flow. Letting his mind slip gently inside Obi-Wan’s, he noticed that the dark fog was gone and light was coming back, but the damages it had done were still very much there. He walked to the diamond ball, put his hands and forehead on it too and repeated the process. He reached out to Obi-Wan, letting his presence be clear and bright so that he couldn’t mistake it. As Anakin’s strength was soaking into Obi-Wan, his own strength started to grow back. The barren sand slowly disappeared as soft grass covered the ground. The ruins of the high walls rustled like leaves in the wind. The diamond cracked and broke down to reveal Obi-Wan’s form, sitting crossed-leg as if he was meditating but his brow was drawn into a hard line of exhaustion. He opened his eyes and astonishment washed over his features as he recognised Anakin standing before him. 

“How…” Obi-Wan started but was unable to finish, too baffled by Anakin’s presence. Anakin could see him taking in the new details of Anakin’s appearance, his well-kept stubble, his long hair in their messy bun, the sharper edges around his eyes and the new depth inside them. Obi-Wan recognised him and yet seemed to be unable to assimilate the fact that the Anakin standing in front of him was the same person that he’d left behind on Mortis.

“I don’t know how long I can stay here, nor how long will Dooku remain unconscious, so no time for a heartfelt reunion. We will have time for that when I return to Coruscant. Right now, we need to make you functional again.”

He held out a hand to Obi-Wan, who took it after a second of more baffled hesitation, and Anakin helped him up to his feet. Obi-Wan looked around and saw his mental landscape visibly growing back.

“How ? How are you doing this ?” he asked, amazed.

“I’m only feeding you my strength. I’m using our bond to let you draw the Force from my own connection to it. It’s far more vast and consistent than yours. I can help you to restore it to recover enough of your abilities to get out of here. After that, you will have to seek the help of the more capable hands of the Temple’s Healers. I’m still new to this after all.”

“I’m not sure I understand…”

“Dooku wreaked havoc on your mind and on your ability to call on the Force. Your physical and psychological strength is too depleted for that. Use our bond. You can draw the Force from me into you to rebuild your strength. But as I said, I am no expert, and you will have to be carefully tended by the Temple’s specialists.”

Obi-Wan stared at him intensely, taking in the man standing before him. 

“How did you find me ?” he asked. “Are you really here at all ?”

“In the flesh ? No, I’m sectors away, and we are running out of time, so I will explain later. Someday.”

“If I draw from you, will you be alright ?” Obi-Wan asked, obviously concerned.

“I will be just fine. And you should be worrying about yourself, just for once,” Anakin said with a soft smile, as he was reminded of Obi-Wan’s tendencies to downplay his own injuries. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but as he started to talk, Anakin cut right through and said with irritation colored by affection:

“Just take what is offered, you old fool !”

Obi-Wan frowned as if Anakin had just offended him and was certainly about to reply that he wasn’t old per say just older than Anakin, but that died off and he just sighed with a soft smile. As Anakin held out his hands, Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate to take them and let the Force flow from his former Padawan to him.

The moment Obi-Wan’s hands closed around Anakin’s, the Force rushed inside him in warm, powerful waves. As Dooku had sent unrelenting charge after charge against his last defenses, he had grown colder and colder, to the point where he’d been freezing, wondering if he would ever come to know warmth again. When the attacks had stopped and the cold receded, he didn’t understand at first what had happened. All he’d known was that he had stopped shivering and a presence, familiar but that he couldn’t pinpoint, was calling out to him. It was Anakin. Anakin had brought back warmth and light in the field of ruins that Dooku had left behind. Now, with their bond wide open and Anakin’s connection to the Force along with it, he was bathed in the Force's deep currents, and the cold was all but forgotten. He drew upon it to cast away any reminder of it, cleaning up the ruins of his fortress by calling out the sun, had its piercing ray shine bright to cast the shadow out for good. He felt stronger doing so, so he called out for more and felt like he was dropped into a bottomless ocean. There seemed to be no limits to what Anakin had access to. Was it what it felt like for him, everytime he used the Force ? Every second of every day did he constantly feel that endless well inside of him ? So much power, so much potential, so many possibilities...It left Obi-Wan dizzy. 

He sensed as Anakin held back the flow and closed their bond just enough to channel it. He must have felt that Obi-Wan was ready to let himself drown into it. 

“Careful,” Anakin said. “Don’t take too much, because if you do, when I leave and withdraw my connection you won’t be able to maintain yourself and fall right back into disarray. Use my connection to find yours back, not to replace it.”

Obi-Wan did as he was told, and almost regretfully let the ocean retreat as he looked instead for the steady river of his own connection. It was still there and Obi-Wan was startled to see it running gently between two rows of newly rebuilt ramparts, tall and smooth. He hadn’t even realised he had reconstructed so much already. Anakin pulled his hands back and Obi-Wan felt him slowly severing the shared connxion. The base of the walls shook ever so slightly and clouds hid the sun intermittently. Obi-Wan understood what Anakin had meant when he advised him not to rely entirely on his strength.

“I broadcasted your Force signature as much as I could. Any Jedi in the vicinity should be able to pick-up your location. Ahsoka most of all. You should be able to escape now,” Anakin said. “Just don’t...don’t do anything foolish.”

“Anakin…”

Obi-Wan wanted to say something but he didn’t know what exactly. He just knew he couldn’t let them part ways like this. Anakin’s face was an open book and he obviously felt the same, but he still ignored it and said:

“Hold that thought. Until we meet again.”

Obi-Wan woke up brutally, as if he’d been slapped back into consciousness. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, just beside the turned off containment field. His body ached all over, and the simple fact of moving his head brought pain in the entirety of his chest and neck. A piercing headache throbbed below his temples and ran along his optic nerves, giving birth to prisms of light slowly filling his eyesight. His joints felt rusted and, when he moved his elbow, he felt like the cartilage of his bones rasped against one another painfully.

In the dim light provided by the floating orbs, he could spot Dooku’s slumped silhouette across the room. He was uncharacteristically heaped on the ground, breathing even but truly dead to the world, and his lightsaber had rolled away from his grip. He was properly defenseless. And Obi-Wan was struck by the fact that, if only he could find the strength, he could restrain and capture Dooku. Dooku and Grievous. Both captured on the same day. The two leaders of the Droid Army in Republic custody. This would be the greatest turning point of the war ! That would no less than assure victory. Dooku didn’t only lead the army, he also led the Separatist’s senate. 

If only Obi-Wan had the strength !

But he struggled greatly to simply stand up, the world spinning wildly around him, his legs as heavy as a star-destroyer. He tried to call on the Force to make up for his physical weakness, at least until he managed to leave this place, but the effort left him nauseous and his control over his abilities was shaky, his mind unable to concentrate. Anakin might have bought him time and patched him up the best he could to give him a chance to escape, but Obi-Wan would be lucky if he just managed to walk down the corridor without collapsing out of exhaustion and pass out. But giving up without trying was not something he was accustomed to. Yoda’s old mantra came to him. 

Do or do not, there is no try.

Pressing his lips in a determined expression, Obi-Wan used the wall as a support and put one leg in front of the other toward the exit. Once under the archway, he casted a last glance at Dooku’s knocked out form, the inability to take him with him filling him with  shame and deep frustration, the thought that he could end the war here and now but that his body wouldn’t allow him eating him up.   

In the next room, he found Risha Loo’s body, still on the ground and properly forgotten, as well as his lightsaber put casually on the desk, in the certainty Obi-Wan wouldn’t need it any time soon. He picked it up and moved to hang it to his belt, but thought the better of it and kept it in his hand, ready to ignite it, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to wield it properly. But with his hazardous ability to the Force, let alone call to it, he had to defend himself one way or another. Dooku wasn’t going to stay unconscious forever, and at least two magnaguards were still lurking somewhere. 

The walk back to the entrance was long and difficult, and all the while Obi-Wan tried to search for Ahsoka’s presence, sensing her faintly and unable to tell where she was. By the time he finally saw a welcome patch of natural light, he was sweating and panting heavily. Holding on to the fact that fresh air was near, he kept going. It was only when he was a few steps away from the archway from which he could see the evening sky, the warm colors of the setting sun mixing with a thick blanket of dark thunder clouds, that the characteristic sound of a shock baton whistle behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he forced his feet to move faster. As he stepped outside on the cliff path, rain gently fell on him, its cold drops running on his face and helping him tethering him to the here and now. The rain must have been falling for some time now as the path was half soaked and puddles had formed along it. As the blade of his lightsaber rushed to life, the drops falling on it whizzed as they evaporated instantly. The magnaguard was just behind him. If he was quick enough, he could make it fall down the ravine, but he would have to avoid the baton at all cost. A single blow would bring him right back into the containment field. Just as he thought so, a sound of rolling stones caught his attention behind him. The last droid was walking the path not far from them, heading their way. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen it. One he could dispatch, probably, two he had no chance. He glanced at the canyon and heard more than he saw the river running at its bottom. By the sound of it, its current wasn’t too strong, but he couldn’t tell if it was deep enough. The jump itself wasn’t short and without the Force to slow his descent, it would hurt anyway. He turned his lightsaber off and took a side step to his left.

“Do you surrender ?” the droid asked, taking the fact that he’d deactivated his weapon as a sign of capitulation.

Obi-Wan forgoed any witty remarks, took a deep breath as he took another step, then threw his trust and faith in the Force, and let himself fall, back first. The droids, not designed to foresee the possibility of their target trying to kill themself, had no time to move. Obi-Wan saw them rapidly get smaller as he fell further away, the wind rushing through his hair at such a speed he knew he might not wake from the collision with the water. But he suddenly stopped and stood suspended in the air about mid-fall. Obi-Wan blinked a few times, only to realise that a speeder was hovering right next to him, and Padmé was looking at him with a mixture of relief and exasperation. She was standing on the speeder’s nose, holding herself on the windscreen while one of her handmaidens -Tekla he believed- was driving.

“Must you always resort to such extremes ?” she asked loudly to cover the noise of the river. “Scold Anakin all who want, he learnt it all from you !”

“Nice one, Master !”

Ahsoka’s voice came from a little above, from another speeder. She was sporting a wonderful ear-to-ear grin and, as she moved her extended hand, he floated toward Padmé. His friend caught him with a strength he didn’t realise she possessed, and helped him sit inside the speeder. As he looked around more closely now that he was in no danger anymore, he spotted a least a dozen more speeders and, much higher in the sky, three N-1 starfighters. 

“Dooku’s there,” Obi-Wan said, his voice faint. “In the old temple. He was unconscious when I left.”

Padmé’s eyes went wide at the words, and Obi-Wan knew she had perfectly understood what it meant. She brought her comlink next to her mouth and ordered with the practiced tone of a queen:

“All units, move to the temple ! Count Dooku is in there, don’t take unnecessary risks but don’t let him escape !”

She shared a look with Obi-Wan, determined and unyielding.

“We are ending the war today !” she claimed.

Those were not some inspirational words said to give purpose and courage. It was a fact and the only outcome she would allow.

Chapter Text

    Supreme Chancellor Palpatine turned once more to the mirror, adjusting his collar so that it would line perfectly with the lining of his hand-embroidered vest of Naboo’s finest wool. Cut in a straight, military cut, and of dark colors, the whole apparatus gave him a more somber and authoritarian look than he would have liked, not so soon anyway, but for the occasion, it was expected of him, so he played along. Glancing by the window, he could see from here the main plaza in front of the Senate getting more and more crowded by the minute. He couldn’t recognize any faces so far above, but everyone seemed to walk calmly and in good order, no one making a fuss or defying the Coruscant Guard or the Blue Guard one way or another. Palpatine had a small smile at the sight. 

Order.

Good.

Making a scene wasn’t the general mood anyway.

Satisfied with his perfectly symmetrical look, Palpatine huffed contently to his reflexion, then moved toward the elevator, Mas Amedda on his heels.

“Make sure that the HoloNet network works perfectly, I want everyone to see and hear this speech clearly,” Palpatine ordered. “There can be no doubt in anyone’s mind anymore that my voice is the voice of reason and my judgment the right one.”

“Yes, my lord,” Amedda replied. “I anticipated your request and had the network checked and adjusted, if need be, three time already. It is at its best, you can be certain.”

Good. After the events of the past weeks, not a single soul on Coruscant and in the Republic was to doubt his leadership. The price of doing so was still in the process of being cleaned up and the deads in the process of being buried.

“The Jedi Council will be attending the ceremony, I’m afraid,” Amedda went on, a slight note of resignation in his voice. “I tried to prevent it, but the Loyalists and Master Yoda were unmovable about it. I’m sorry.”

Palpatine all but waved a hand at it.

“I’m sure you did your best,” he said as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor and a squad of the Blue Guard made way to escort them to the plaza. “Let them have it. It won’t be one appearance in concert with the GAR that will change people’s mind about their order. I decide what is in people’s mind, not them.”

As they made their way toward the main doors of the Senate and stepped under a gray sky that promised rain, Palpatine thought that, all in all, this past month had not been so bad. It had started filled with promises, with the situation on Naboo balanced on the knife-edge, and the possible chaos that could result from it allowing him to put his three main targets at the same place and knowing that, no matter the outcome, he would come out on top. Then the tables had turned completely with Grievous’s capture and, for a moment, Palpatine had felt what had become foreign to him: worry. This was not supposed to happen and it was a big thorn in his side. But he had quickly taken hold of himself. He was, after all, in control of the entire board. If a few pieces got taken he could still put them back on it. This game was going to play out the way he had decided and no unexpected mishap would change that.

The steady noise of the chatter that filled the plaza like a flock of birds died down the moment he walked out the doors and came to the stand overlooking the whole place on the stage built for the ceremony. All eyes turned to him and he took a moment to examine the crowd more thoroughly. The higher ranking officers of the Grand Army of the Republic were all present, in the flesh or via holo, on the front rows. Behind them, more than a good half of the Senators planet-side sat gathered by factions. Without surprise, the members of the Jedi Council sat with the Loyalists, strategically placed just behind a group of GAR’s brass with whom they all had a good relationship. Palpatine was surprised, on the other hand, to spot Kenobi, his face still pale and his cheeks still a bit gaunt, dark circles under his yet determined and focused eyes and sitting on his hover-chair. From what Palpatine had heard, the man had been confined to the Halls of Healing after his encounter with Dooku. Palpatine managed not to pinch his lips together at the sight of the man, and continued his examination of the attending mass. Behind the Senators he recognised many of the engineers and mechanics working on the GAR’s armada, lower ranking officers and many families of the thousands of fallen, grief plain on their faces. There were also simple citizens, who came to pay their respects. And finally, on both sides of the gathered multitude, clone-troopers. Standing still in their military posture, helmets on and perfectly lined up. They weren’t many of them, not as many as they could be, but very few of them were still on leave in the capital, most of them called back to the frontlines after the great depletion of the GAR forces. So the helmets were almost all the red of the Coruscant Guards. 

Palpatine breathed deeply then addressed the silent crowd with a voice made booming by the mike system:

“Common folk. Senators. Members of the Grand Army of the Republic, regulars and clones alike. Citizens of the Republic. We are all here, gathered under this sky as somber as our heart today, to pay homage to the many who fell during the Battle of Duro. That tragedy, which saw the lives of so many of our valiant clone-troopers and of our finest officers blown away, like candles, by the hands of the Droid Army. That tragedy, which saw all those lives taken away, in the singular purpose of setting free only one. Our enemy has shown us how far they were willing to go to get General Grievous back. Now, they have him. And we…we lost many…too many ! of our own.”

As he let his words seep into the minds of all who listen, Palpatine thought back upon those past weeks and how he had almost lost his two most valuable pieces. In his report, Dooku had taken great care to explain how he had managed to escape the ambush set by Amidala after she had successfully made an alliance of Naboo, Gungan and Mon Calamari to rescue Master Kenobi within the imparted hour, despite his direct command not to to so. It still infuriated him to know that they had all plotted this little stunt behind his back and in complete disregard for his orders. The Queen might have taken the credit of the operation and the blasted padawan might have pleaded her youth and Anakin’s influence, Palpatine knew all too well that Amidala was the one behind it all. Only her could turn the table so much that two peoples who were at each other’s throat would instead fight together toward a common goal. Her common goal. His fury was only calmed by the knowledge that Dooku had not only prevailed but also had torn through the rank of his attackers like butter. Before escaping unscathed by one of the oldest tunnels leading far in the grasslands, Dooku had left a high tally of bodies behind him, more than half the forces sent against him, including one of Amidala’s own handmaidens. As he continued his speech, Palpatine was pleased to notice the senator’s absence, as she was still on Naboo, managing the fallout. 

Once Dooku was completely out of their reach, all that had been left to Palpatine was to free Grievous and return him to the field. The security measures to contain the General had been quite impressive for a planet as willfully peaceful as Naboo. As its people didn’t believe in the use of prisons, preferring sanctions such as community service and rehabilitation via works requiring abnegation, the Queen had to improvise. One of the deepest underground temples beneath Theed had been converted into a temporary security complex. Another grand idea of Amidala. As a Venator left the planet to bring back a severely weakened Kenobi and his pet, another had departed the capital, with two battalions of Coruscant Guards, along with three more of clones whose leave on the capital had been abruptly cut short and three units of the Blue Guard. The Jedi Master Koth and his clones were also part of the trip, and were to be joined on Naboo by Master Tiin and his fleet two days after the arrival of the first Venator. Those had been measures he could not stop, so he had played along, acting the part of the determined leader who wasn't willing to bargain and risk losing their newly gained advantage while in the shadows he devised all the details of Grievous’ liberation. Among the Coruscant Guards sent to ensure Grievous’ captivity, a whole platoon had already been reprogrammed thanks to the control chip and half the Blue Guard belonged to him, their loyalty unwavering and absolute. They all would respond and obey to any order he would give without batting an eye. 

All the while, there was a heat up debate about whether or not extradite Grievous on Coruscant, the danger of keeping him on a planet like Naboo which, despite the changes add to its defense after the Invasion, was still way undergunned, balancing the huge risks paused by the journey between the two planets. There could indeed be many ways that the situation could go south, the main concern being an ambush by the Separatist’s fleet, who would try to get their general back at any cost. But, as more and more forces were deployed toward Naboo, the Senate kept reminding that the GAR couldn’t stretch its forces any thinner, and two weeks after Grievous’ capture, a decision had to be taken. Palpatine had of course taken advantage of the situation. He had perfectly played the cards given to him, had been swift to point out how, by coming together, people of the Republic had managed to take down the monstrous general of the Separatists, congratulated King Lee-Char for the bravery of his own people and their willingness to come to the aid of those who had grant them shelter, been falsely modest about his pride at the fact that his home planet had been the theater of such an important event in the war, and highlighted that people such as the Gungans, who were seen as primitive by many, shouldn’t be underestimated. His speech had gathered a unanimous round of applause in the Senate Chamber, the senators reinvigorated by this show of strength.

He had sailed the debate about Grievous’ holding location flawlessly among the waters he had agitated himself. He had argued against moving Grievous, claiming the journey too much of a security hazard, a risk the Republic couldn’t take after so long chasing this cyborg monstrosity, and had played the card of patriotic pride just enough for him to be accused of being partial. So the Senate had voted in favor of repatriating Grievous to Coruscant. The plan had been so carefully designed, the security measures checked thoroughly several times, the people cherry-picked, and the whole operation had to be approved by at least five different committees. Even though he loathed the man, Palpatine had to recognise that Organa had done a perfect job in running it all. On paper, nothing could go wrong. But the pleasure of directing both sides resided in this: demolishing what looked unbreakable, and sweeping with a large move of his hand what one side thought was their greatest scheme.  So he had detailed all of the great plan to Dooku directly, and then made good use of the CSI network of spies within the Senate and GAR, making sure that they left just enough evidence behind them to shift the blame toward them, and therefore, the Separatists had legitimate ground to built an operation of their own to free their captive general. The convoy had almost made it to Coruscant. The Republic almost had its greatest victory since the beginning of the war. 

But as they came by Duro, the Separatist’s Fleet had engaged in what was probably the biggest space battle of the whole war. The showdown had been epic, the losses catastrophic on both sides, and, a week after the deed, scavengers and junkyards’s teams were still cleaning out the battlefield. The financial and material cost was abysmal, and both the Republic and the Confederacy now licked their wounds while counting their remaining credits, but there was no doubt about which side had lost the most in this monumental space battle. The Separatists may have lost a good portion of their fleet and thousands upon thousands of units of its droid army, but they now had their general back. The Republic, on the other hand, had lost lives by the handful, clone troopers and non-clone officers alike. The fact that new clone troopers took time to grow and the other members of the GAR were never seen has nothing but real living being reminded to the Senate and the citizens that war had cost, and the general warriness had grown tenfold. To Palpatine great pleasure, the death of three Jedi Generals, including one of their Council members, Eeth Koth didn’t seem to sadden too many people, with the exception of the Loyalist Committee. Palpatine had washed his hands of the disaster, after all had he not predicted such an outcome ? 

“We must be honest with ourselves,” he continued, the perfect face of the leader making his mea culpa with sorrow and courage. “Those lives we lost, those precious lives, we lost them because of our own mistakes. Yes, it is true.”

He shook his head sadly and let his words take their mark before resuming:

“Our mistake, being our pride, our unwavering belief that our honor and our sense of justice would prevail against the devious way of the Separatists. They spied and then attacked, without warning, ignoring all the rules of engagement ! For that is their way ! In the face of such cowardly strategies, we thought our own nobility would triumph. I come here, before you, fully ready to accept your judgment and your anger. As the leader of this great republic, I should have tried harder to push the safety of our brave citizens serving in the GAR further as an argument against such an endeavor.”

Among the crowd Palpatine could see many faces relaxing and even nodding, accepting his apology and not recognizing it for what it was. He could also see those who did recognize it. Their brows were furrowed and their discontentment barely contained. Let them be unhappy. He would get what he wanted out of all of this: his valuable pawn was back on the front lines and even more senators would now gladly defer to the Chancellor's enlightened vision, always surrendering more of their liberties and freewill, well out of their own freewill. Palpatine just loved good irony ! They were so complacent and accomplices in their own enslavement, in the name of stability and security, it tasted like the sweetest of Naboo’s honey on Palpatine’s tongue.  So Palpatine’s tone came now more rightfully vengeful as he said:

“But I can assure you that all those deaths weren’t for nothing ! Yes, the Separatists got their general back and yes, they dealt us a significant blow, but so did we ! Those soldiers, clones and regulars alike, who lost their lives that day were fighters, and they took with them as many droids as they could. Let us not forget that the resources of the Confederacy are not unlimited and that is precisely why they seek to steal from the Republic so many territories all too happy to remain at our side. Those brave soldiers who died that day in Duro’s orbit died dealing such a blow to those limited resources that the Confederacy will think twice before ever trying to attack us like this ever again !”

Gentle applause greeted his tirade, people invigorated by his words. 

“Yes, we lost General Grievous, but we proved that we were capable of capturing him in the first place ! We proved that the Droid Army’s leaders weren’t as untouchable as they thought ! The people of the Republic came together, and won over that monstrosity the Separatists call a general !”

The applause was more vigorous as he kept speaking.

“Today, we pay tribute to our dead. We mourn our losses and we humble ourselves before them. But today we also make a promise: that we will not be beaten down by them !”

Cheerings now resonated over the applause.

“We promise the Confederacy that we might be wounded, but we are not defeated ! We will never be defeated ! The Republic will prevail. And as your Supreme Chancellor, I promise you this: I will see us to victory. To security. To prosperity ! ”

People now stood to cheer him. It wasn’t a complete standing ovation, but he didn’t expect those who had remained seated to participate. Let the Jedi, the Loyalists and his opponents be resentful at his triumph. They would be dealt with eventually. His victory would only be sweeter then. 

As he stepped down the stand to allow the ceremony to begin, Palpatine savoured the taste of another victory, a smaller one, one upon which it would take more time to be productive, but a victory all the same. Kenobi’s interrogation had been a real roller-coaster, and if the man himself had been as mute as a tomb, it had still provided results. Dooku’s report was strange but interesting, as, at the moment he thought he was about to break the last of Kenobi’s defenses, Anakin’s presence had engulfed him and threw him out of Kenobi’s mind. Dooku had all but spat the words when he had described how Anakin’s presence was filling the room, as if the young man had been standing right beside him. It had then flashed into his own mind with a force and precision Dooku hadn’t known Anakin could possess, and had been so swift that he failed to muster his defenses before he’d fallen into unconsciousness. Dooku’s feathers were still greatly ruffled, but Palpatine couldn’t care less. That display of power was startling and most promising. If Palpatine had to venture a guess, he would say that Anakin had traced back his bond with Kenobi and then took measures to protect him. If the boy was capable of such a thing, Palpatine was eager to put them to use. What an incredible advantage it would be, once Anakin became his apprentice, to have him ready and able to shield him from harm from any corner of the galaxy ! He already had a bond with the boy, even though he had deliberately kept it thin and discreet, to the point of invisibility, so that neither Anakin nor the Jedi would know it was there, and it would only grow stronger once Anakin would take his rightful place by his side. It had already been strong enough for Palpatine to finally sense Anakin’s presence after months of stillness. It had shown only for a moment, bright and steady, but not long enough for Palpatine to find out its point of origin. After a few researches, he had determined the boy must have been near the Lothal sector, which put him not very far from Hutt Space, just as it had been presented to him. Was it simple chance, or had the Jedi been honest about that part ?

Furthermore, his agents in Hutt Space had given him vague reports of a bounty hunter, who came out of nowhere and who had won his place in Grakkus’ service. The man pretended to originate from the Unknown Regions, owned a fully restored Jedi ship from the Old Republic, never showed his face, and went by the name of Bogan Ashla. Palpatine didn’t know what to think about this. It was too convenient. Anakin had surprised everyone by an unprecedented ability for discretion and this bounty hunter drew a little too much attention to himself. But drawing attention to himself was exactly the kind of thing Anakin would do. The reports said that Ashla had earned his position by bringing the severed head of a quarry in Grakkus’s audience room and then secured it by stealing a cargo of spice right under the nose of the Pykes directly from their stronghold on Oba Diah by deceiving them into thinking Grakkus wanted to form an alliance against the main Hutt Cartel. It was bold to the point of blind recklessness, daring and innovative, and that kind of swindle required a lot of skills and guts. Again, he could picture Anakin doing such a thing. Restoring an antique ship from fuselage to navicomputer system was a Life Day kind of treat for Anakin as well. But he had trouble picturing the young man beheading someone and rolling said head at the mechanical feet of the Hutt just to gain entry into the palace. Not that Anakin wasn’t capable of murder. Palpatine had savored all too much the story of how the boy had slaughtered an entire camp of sand people out of hatred and sorrow after the death of his mother. But this had been done under the push of powerful emotions, in a fit of rage, and on instinct, as an outlet, and he had been deeply ashamed of it, his guilt and remorse all too plain as he had told the tale, one he had kept fiercely away from Jedi ears. To kill a man just as a means to an end was too calculated and cold for Anakin, who always acted according to the blazing inferno of his emotions. Or had Anakin been keeping secrets from him as well and had turned into a more ruthless person than he knew while Palpatine was looking away ? Battlefields were terrible places, where people had the opportunities to show both their best and worst selves, and the long exposure to the horrors of war tended to erase the former to give way to the latter. Had he committed some other atrocities without telling Palpatine ? Was he already further down the path of the Dark Side than Sidious suspected ? If so, well things were going along even better than he dared himself to hope. 

But that name…

Bogan Ashla...It couldn’t be pure coincidence. Such a name couldn’t be real, couldn’t be the true name worn by a real man for all his life. Only someone initiated in the ways of the Force could understand its meaning, and the two names, when used alone, were common enough. But together...Anakin had never been much of a scholar so Palpatine doubted he knew much about the deeper meaning of Bogan and Ashla. And picking such a name while trying to hide from most know powers in the galaxy was a stupid move. There was a plethora of names he could have chosen if he wanted to disappear. This name could only make him stand out. 

So Palpatine was here, sitting at the seat of honor while the names and faces of the fallen were said aloud and shown, completely unmoved by the emotions it brought to the crowd, musing over the proper move to do next. The wrong one could shake the board too much for his liking, but if it stayed too still, Anakin would never show himself again anytime soon. Palpatine needed him on edge, on the verge of paranoia, in the right state of mind to make the decisions that would push him closer and closer from his Fall. He needed to create those situations where Anakin would gradually be forced to confront the fact that his Jedi teachings were doing him no good and that he was better off leaving them behind and doing what had to be done. Endangering the people he loved had proven effective, but surely the boy would understand something was afoot if that strategy was applied again in such an obvious way. Anakin might be ruled by his impulses, he was still very clever and, as an engineer, expert at spotting patterns. 

Time for half-measures were past. If he wanted Anakin to make a move he had to provoke him directly into making it. Thankfully, Palpatine’s sleeve was full of hidden cards. So he discreetly leaned toward Mas Amedda and ordered in a whisper:

“Make the arrangement for me to call on our asset in Hutt Space as soon as the ceremony is over. I have a mission for him.”

***

As the ceremony came to an end, the Chancellor had taken the stand again to make another speech. Even if the man was half a galaxy away and that his picture and voice was only conveyed by the holoscreen of the Blue Sun ’s common area, Anakin still tensed sharply. His eyes didn’t leave the screen but his guts tied themselves in nasty nods at the sight and sound of his former master and greatest enemy. His shoulders turned to stone and his fingers started to tap rhythmically on the table without him noticing. 

“Why do you keep torturing yourself like this ?” came a perplexed voice behind him.

Turning on his stool, Anakin watched as Yuve moved into the space, walking in direction of the small galley and giving the screen a hard glance. Anakin hadn’t expected anyone to come. It was the middle of the night here on Nar Shaddaa, and the day had been long and busy. He could feel Pala and Tarek blissfully asleep presences in their respective cabins.

“I have to remain properly informed about the situation in the galaxy,” he said darkly. “Unfortunately, it often involves the Chancellor, and I cannot do much else than bare it.”

Yuve wrinkled her nose, and he knew she had noticed his speech pattern. As often when he was upset, he had reverted to Vador’s way of speaking, something that none of the crew members had missed, even if they ignored its meaning. She made no comment about it, instead gesturing toward the caf machine beside her, silently asking if he wanted some.

“It is three in the morning…” he remarked blankly.

“Something stronger, then ?” she asked while lifting two glasses and a bottle of rodian version of spotchka, which included an ungodly amount of an alcohol he didn’t want to know the name of and that burned the throat as surely as a dip in lava. It was his turn to wrinkle his nose and he said:

“Perfect for the occasion.”

With a rueful smile, Yuve came to sit face to him and served them both a full glass. They clung them without spilling any of their content, and down them in one go. They both groaned as the alcohol made its way to their stomach and Anakin held his glass for one more. Yuve chuckled and obliged. 

“You want me to turn the HoloNet off ?” she asked.

Anakin simply shook his head and she sighed. He looked at her, surprised to see her, of all the crew, here to drink with him and try to cheer him up. The whole crew still resented him for Sergei’s death, but was coming around but Yuve was the one whom he struggled the most with. 

Things have moved along nicely with Pala. They had both changed so much since their younger days, and it was still a work in progress to adjust to those changes in the other, but that spark of kinship that had brought them so close as children was still there, so they worked to reignite it as a gentle fire. Anakin was impressed by the woman his friend had grown into. She was strong, willful, clever and crafty, incredibly loyal and, behind her harsh luster, deeply kind and caring. And she didn’t mince her words around him, always telling him plainly when she thought he was wrong or out of line. So she kept him straight. They were like-minded and he soon realized how much he had missed her. 

Tarek, as Anakin had come to suspect quickly, was Force-sensitive. Not enough to be trained, but enough to grant him a very good instinct and keen reflexes. When they had talked about it, they both realized that it had definitely played a big part in keeping him alive during the ten years he was a fighter in a pit just like Grakkus’. This instinct told him to trust Anakin’s purpose, and his even-tempered nature made him dislike confrontation. But under his affable demeanor, Anakin could feel him studying his every move, waiting to see how and when he would slip. But he hadn’t so far, and Tarek genuinely warmed up to him. They understood each other and worked easily together. 

Yuve was a whole different story. Even if she recognised that Anakin had never lied to them and had acted with good reasons, she was still harsh. Her edges were smoothing around him slowly, her trust hard won, always assessing his actions and his words. He didn’t hold it against her, she had, after all, good reasons to not like him much. And she was still fair. Not once had she rebuked Pala or her husband about their easier time around him. Her biggest issue wasn’t simply his murder of her friend, but also the fact that she could clearly feel that he was holding something huge from them. So they kind of danced around each-other, sometimes hitting on the nerves of the other, sometimes, like this very moment, offering an olive branch.

“I know it’s kinda horrible for me to say, but ever since that big face-off, the galaxy is oddly peaceful,” Yuve remarked, filling her third glass. “Both sides know they work on shorter resources than originally planned and they have to wait for the resupply, knowing it will take time. So they are more careful, they hold back. It’s like the whole galaxy has become this kind of no-man’s-land…Like a galaxy wide stand-still. It’s so weird…”

“It’s the soundest strategy,” Anakin explained, his military mind working full speed. “Neither the Republic nor the Confederacy can afford any loss at the moment. The Republic most of all. It is far faster to manufacture droids than grow clones. So both sides hold their grounds, allowing the other to entrench themselve where there are, at the cost of losing ground themselves, and hoping that once the number of troops available increase once more, they will be able to advance once more, and remove the enemy from their position. It’s no more different than a siege. They have to ration everything and use it more strategically.”

“It’s a good thing, no ?” Yuve asked, truly curious. “I mean, while they do that, it means less fights, which means less people dying and less places destroyed. And it gives you a respite to focus more on our operation here and less on what’s happening galaxy-wide.”

Anakin nodded. It certainly put some part of his mind at rest, knowing that the Jedi and the clones would be less exposed during an undetermined period of time. It would give Obi-Wan more time to heal from his encounter with Dooku. He wouldn’t need to focus so much on his plan to defeat Sidious and focus more instead on their operation on Nar Shaddaa. Unfortunately, it would also give Sidious time of his own to focus on him . For Anakin was no fool. After his little show of power to rescue Obi-Wan and how it had certainly put Dooku’s nose out of joint, Sidious would be more than ever determined to find any traces of him. He hadn’t heard of any effort on his part before, but it didn’t mean there had been none. Now, he was sure there would be something he wouldn’t be able to miss.

“About our endeavor, I made some new progress regarding the…”

His voice got lost. On the screen, as the ceremony and speeches were over, the HoloNet newscaster was making a summary of the situation in the Republic and had reached the point about the situation on Naboo. Padmé and Prince Lee-Char were answering various questions, and, as every time his wife appeared on a screen, Anakin’s attention was entirely sucked up toward her image. No matter his choice to stay away from her, she still had that powerful pull on him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face, committing every detail of it to memory, always struck by the fact that he had almost forgot the sound of her voice. It was both honey and poison, soothing and torturing him. He had yet to determine which was worse: Padmé being dead and forever lost to him, or her being alive and well but out of his reach, by his own choice nonetheless.

“You two are close,” Yuve said, staring at him intently, her voice pulling him away from his thoughts. She hadn’t phrased it as a question, and hadn’t even bothered to specify who she was talking about. There was no need and they both knew it.  But Anakin didn’t feel like talking about it.

“What makes you say so ?” he asked in a poor attempt to drive her attention away.

“You mean aside the fact that you are completely enraptured with her every time she comes on screen and that you tasked us to physically refrain you, if need be, from contacting her ?” Yuve replied with a great deal of sarcasm. “Oh, you’re right, I couldn’t even begin to imagine…”

Anakin conceded her point with a soft smile and a good sport nodd. 

“How did you get to know her ?” Yuve asked. “Are all Jedi always in contact with senators, or are you two more of an exception ?”

Anakin took the time to finish his glass before finding the strength to answer. It was so strange how hard it was for him to speak about Padmé to anyone other than Qui-Gon or the Father.

“I owe her my freedom,” he simply said.

“Her ?” Yuve repeated, surprised. “I thought it was a Jedi who freed you.”

“A Jedi traveling with her. If they hadn’t fled her planet and came to Tatooine to repair their ship, I would still be a slave back there.”

As he poured himself another glass, Anakin found himself musing about what-ifs:

“I can’t really imagine what my life would have been then, but I can guess the main outline.”

“For a pretty thing like you ? Yeah, not a lot of options…” Yuve added gloomily. 

She was right, of course. Anakin had been told enough that he was a beautiful man to believe it. And beauty was the curse of the slave. Yuve was perfectly aware of that as she had suffered from it first hand, being a pleasure slave from the age of twelve to thirty-one. And Anakin knew that, no matter how good he was as a mechanic and a pilot, and no matter how many credits he would have earned for Watto, given his pleasing look, he would have ended up making extra hours at night in the highest bidder’s bed. The image of Miraj came to him and he had a hard time swallowing his drink. Yuve noticed, as well as his expression. He knew that, ever since he’d come back, his face was an open book, way too easy to read. After twenty-five years under an opaque helmet, he had long lost the ability to keep a straight expression, and was still in the process of relearning it. He kept his eyes down, focused on his drink, but Yuve wasn’t the tactful kind:

“You’ve experienced it, right ?” 

Then her expression grew horrified as she added the information she had:

“Wait, not when you were a child ?! ‘cause that would…”

“Not when I was a child,” Anakin cut her, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

“When you were a Jedi ?” she asked again, somehow even more grossed out.

“There was…a mission. Involving Zygerrian. They had taken slaves, and we had to find and free them. But we were discovered. My master and my Padawan got a collar around their necks and the qu…their leader had taken an interest in me.”

He finally looked at her, in the eyes, trying to appear less ashamed than he truly was.

“I did what I had to to protect my friends.”

Yuve didn’t say a word as she kept her eyes on him, her expression much harder to read than his own. Then, nodding toward the screen where Padmé was still answering questions, she asked more kindly than before:

“What did she have to say about it ?”

“Nothing. She never knew.”

He never had mustered the courage to tell her. He had avoided her eyes for weeks, shivered at her touch, claimed that the mission had been hard on him because of all the feelings of his past it had brought back, even used his mother’s death and its consequences as a way to justify his behavior. After he came back from his next mission, he had been missing her so much he had melted in her arms, and from there it had been as if nothing had ever happened. Whether she had believed him or not, he had never known. They had never spoken about it, burying it just like they did with everything they’d rather not face. 

“Why do you insist on staying away from her if it makes you suffer so much ?”  Yuve asked, this time with the tenderness of a mother.

“I only bring her troubles and heartache,” Anakin confessed. “She deserves a happiness I thought I could offer her, but I was wrong. I cannot be what she needs. And even if she’s everything I want, it is not about me.”

“What if you are everything she wants ?”

“What we want isn’t always what is best for us. Trust me, I know a great deal about it !”

She seemed to want to say more, but Anakin said:

“Plus, Jedi are not supposed to engage in this kind of relationship. She…offered me my freedom once, and my path toward a better life. The least I can do is to do the same for her.”

Yuve didn’t add anything more, but it was clear that she was thinking no less. Her eyes, which were usually hard when looking at him, were now compassionate. She understood how deep Anakin’s love for Padmé ran, and she seemed to appreciate his willingness to let his personal feelings aside for her sake, but she obviously wasn’t ready to let him drop the fight so easily. She chose to put this matter for another time, as she asked instead, in a clear attempt to drive his train of thought away from painful things:

“How is Sliman ? Does he adjust well to…Mortis, is it ?”

Anakin smiled again. Bringing Sliman to Mortis had been a gamble, and it was still proving to be a winning one. When he had first brought the man to this place out of time and out of space, Silman hadn’t reacted much, his sanity too crumbled and his mind not rational enough to comprehend where he was. He had marveled as nature constantly changed at dawn and dusk, had circled around the Father as an animal examining a strange new species, but his curiosity and awe were more born from his mind seeing something different than the walls of his cell after ten years than a true comprehension of what he was seeing. He seemed unable to see Qui-Gon, a fact both the Father and Qui-Gon himself found strange, as the strength of the Force in this place should be enough for even a non-Force-sensitive person to see a Force ghost. After a few session of mind-healing with the Father, the old being theorized than the poor man mind was simply trying not to break completely in front of this new environment, which was already a lot to take in for any sane person, and seeing a ghost would definitively be a cause for a breakdown. So they took things slowly as the Father was nothing if not patient. He had solicited Anakin’s help and, if at first Anakin wondered how he could possibly be of assistance to mend someone’s mind when he still had troubles doing it with his own, he quickly came to understand. Helping Silman was helping him too, by helping him understand what he needed himself, and by reminding him that he actually enjoyed taking care of people and that he was good at it. As Anakin was the closest to anything normal on Mortis, Silman had started to cling to him when he started to comprehend the world around him was not a product of his imagination, and Anakin didn’t mind the company. He felt like a teacher himself again, helping the man to relearn things as simple as showering and taking care of himself with a proper sleeping schedule and three meals a day, things he had himself needed and now appreciated the value of. They took the habit of cooking their own meals together, which helped Silman to regain dexterity with his hands, and following the instructions of the recipe happened to be a great exercise to channel his wandering thoughts. Anakin was glad to have another human to taste the food he made. The Father had very different tastes and Qui-Gon didn’t eat, so Anakin feared his culinary skills might be lost forever as his own sense of taste was still adjusting, even after more than a year. And Silman, just like Anakin had been, was all but too happy to try anything edible. After a few weeks on Mortis, Silman was able to shave himself, had asked Anakin to cut his hair, remembered to change clothes every two days and, thanks to a much healthier diet than the Pyke’s prison food, had taken on some weight. The change was impressive and Silman looked more like the man Anakin had seen in old pictures than the feral prisoner. It was unsettling for Silman himself, who always stopped before any reflective surface to look at his reflection incredulously. He even admitted to Anakin that he barely recognised the man he saw, and couldn’t accept that it was him just yet. The more they spend time together, the more Anakin felt like he was seeing his past self, the one that he had been during his first months on Mortis, a stranger to himself who had all the difficulties in the world to find a landmark to oriente himself in the maze that was his mind. It was disconcerting, and sobering, as it showed him just how much he had grown since those first days, and it gave him hope that Silman would too move past this. As he had gone through this, he knew how to guide Silman towards the path of recovery. 

Anakin told much of it to Yuve, leaving the parts that involved his own past and any comparison with himself. She seemed genuinely glad to hear it. Anakin had learned that, despite her cold attitude toward him, Yuve cared a lot about people and hearing that someone was on the path of recovery was balm to her ears. 

“If he keeps getting better this quickly, I will be able to move him to my brother's sooner than I thought,” he said.

“I can’t imagine Owen would decline the extra pair of hands !” Yuve said with a smirk, and the truth of it made Anakin smile in return.

It was still strange to him to hear either the Blue Sun ’s crew or Owen and Beru talk about the other group. The crew had been honest with Anakin and had told him that, while he was taking Sliman to Mortis, they had visited his family on Tatooine. Partly because reuniting with him had pushed Pala to seek Kitster out (and they now called each-other via holo at least once a week, Anakin joining them whenever he was available), and partly to get a better measure of Anakin. Owen had been mistrustful at first, but Beru had quickly understood what was going on. When they had breached the subject of Sergei’s death, Owen had tried to take the blame, insisting that he was the one who had advised Anakin to do it, but the Blue Sun ’s had been much more forgiving toward him than toward Anakin. Owen was not the one to do the deed. He might have voiced counsel, but it was Anakin who had decided to act upon it. Anakin had been moved, more than he would have expected, to see his brother step in front of him like this to soften the blow he was currently taking. His family and his new friends seemed to have spent a long time talking about him, Owen and Beru understanding that they knew less than the Blue Sun about Anakin’s mission and motive, but had seen him more vulnerable and open than either Pala, Tarek or Yuve had. Kitster had added his own input. While he was busy and not looking, all of them had taken the habit of communicating often, and not only to talk about him, but also to join efforts as both parties were connected to anti-slavery movements. The Blue Sun ’s had given Beru new contacts, which opened to more resources, and Beru had given the Blue Sun ’s and their partners opportunities on Tatooine. They were doing good so, as far as Anakin was concerned, they could talk about him as much as they wanted, as long as they kept working together.

Anakin and Yuve spent more time in a more companionable proximity than they had so far, talking about the crew’s progress on their other projects, about the huge amount of data they had managed to retrieve from the Pyke’s archives so far, the worm working like a charm and still blessedly undetected, well hidden on Attolon where they had taken the habit of going to work on them, Anakin’s progress on the technological side of their operation on Nar Shaddaa…Internally, and with a kind of grim sarcasm, Anakin had to thank some of his poor choices of life, such as having to hide a secret marriage to a Senator while being a Jedi General and a teacher, and his time as one of the Empire’s leaders, for it had all taught him quite effectively how to juggle between responsibilities and an overloaded schedule.

It was only when Anakin felt Tarek’s quiet presence that both he and Yuve stopped talking. Tarek stood silent at the entrance of the common area, looking at them with a satisfied grin directed at his wife, who pretended to ignore it. Pushing his sense, Anakin felt Pala moving in her cabin.

“Is it time ?” he asked.

“Yes. You still have time to prepare yourself, then we can go,” Tarek answered.

“Be quick,” Yuve instructed as she stood to leave. “They already won’t be pleased to have you there, let us not have them wait for us on top of that.”

Anakin finished his drink and returned to his own cabin (he was still coming to terms about the fact that he had a cabin on the Blue Sun , just as they now had their cabins on the New Dawn ), where he changed his casual clothes into a work suit from one of the transparisteel factory in the lower levels of the moon. He added a large and patched-up gray poncho, its hood falling just below his brow. Added to the scarf and coton mask on the lower part of his face, and the only part of his face now visible were his eyes. They were to meet the other organizations involved in the operation here, and if they planned on telling them from the get go that he was Bogan Ashla, Grakkus had eyes everywhere in this place, so no one could even begin to suspect that he and the bounty hunter where one and the same. The Blue Sun ’s crew would remain the only one to know who was hiding behind both this cowl and Ashla’s helmet. Jeopardizing his position as the Hutt’s favorite pet now would be both sloppy and disastrous.

To say that Grakkus had been pleased by what had transpired on Oba Diah was an understatement. When Anakin and Lenk’A had reported what happened in great details, the Hutt had first shown no signs of any emotions, and Anakin had felt the growing fear within Lenk’A that her boss was about to have her thrown into the fighting pit to fend for herself against a very hungry rancor for daring to fakely bargain in his name and steal a cargo that wasn’t his to begin with. But when they had stopped talking, the room and all the audience gathered in it had remained silent, waiting for Grakkus’ temper to explode. And it had, in the form of bursts of laughter and applause. Lenk’A’s jaw had almost dropped as the Hutt explained how much he had loved that tale and that Bogan was definitely going to work for him again. In a more private room, Grakkus had been effusive about how hard it was now to find someone with the guts to show the middle finger to the Pykes like Anakin had and live to tell the tale. He went on about all the kinds of jobs he would be able to give Anakin, already enjoying the future reports. Grakkus didn’t care how Anakin did the job as long as he did it, but he quickly understood that if he wanted to keep being favored by the Hutt, he would have to be creative and eccentric. He had to keep the Hutt happily entertained. Two jobs later, and he could affirm the Hutt wouldn’t tire of him any time soon. His access to the palace was getting wider and he had been able to map all he had access to so far. He was also starting to make contacts and win favors he could trade later with some of key palace’s staff. He had not laid his eyes on Oram Menbi yet, but he trusted the opportunity would show itself soon enough. But after Sergei’s betrayal of Grakkus’ trust and his own recent arrival among Grakkus’ circle, Anakin had had to be very careful about how he behaved, and do nothing that could raise suspicion around him. He already had difficulties mapping the place without triggering any alarms. But every piece of data he could get he gave to the crew, who then passed it along to the other five organizations involved in the plan.

Once he was ready, they left the ship separately, each going in a different direction, following different ways. It took Anakin around forty minutes to arrive at his destination, as he had taken great care to not be followed, checking every corner as thoroughly as he could, his senses alert and ready, sometimes blending with the Force around him, and even using a scrambler from time to time to disrupt the security cameras on strategic crossroads. He then merged with the flow of workers on their way to the factories, where the meeting took place. No one questioned him when he opened the door to the front desk of a transparisteel factory. There was only one Zeltron woman in the room, still in the process of opening the blind for the day, who looked at him expectantly. He simply did a small hand gesture, two fingers tapping his forehead before dragging his hand down, in the most common non-verbal “hello” in Huparimar. The woman then pointed at one of the back doors. He could feel the rest of the crew already there waiting for him. He walked down several flights of stairs, sensing other presences along with thoses of his friends. He finally arrived in front of a heavy metal door with a closed window at eye level. He knocked rhythmically the right amount of times and the little window opened straight away.

“ The melting room is on the other side of the factory ,” the man behind the door said in Huparimar.

“ I know, but, hum, do you have spare glasses ? ” Anakin replied.

The man huffed, annoyed, and turned to mumble something to someone behind him. All Anakin heard was Pala’s voice, loud and clear:

“ Just let him in ! ”

The window closed and the door opened, its rusty hinges squealing. The vast room was organized in three different areas. A large control panel took up all of the right wall, screens showing various live feeds of security cameras to which they definitely shouldn’t have access to, alongside monitors and consoles. In the far back, a large conference holotable was displaying the unfinished map of Grakkus’ palace he had himself put together. A lounge area stood right behind the door, with mismatched sofas and chairs, clearly scavenged judging by the state of them but comfortable looking. The crew was sitting there, alongside three other people Anakin had never met, and a bunch of children, playing with Pala and who turned as one to him as he entered. 

Anakin froze at their sight, and they took it as an invitation to rush up to him, all smiles and curious eyes. Anakin felt his heart starting to race as he looked down on those young faces. For a second he wanted to scream at Pala that he shouldn’t be around children, that they shouldn’t let them get anywhere near him and to please take them away from him right now before he did anything that might hurt them, but his lips didn’t move. There were five, three Twi’lek, a Rodian and a human, asking him questions in Huparimar. “ Who are you ? ” “ Are you Pala’s new friend ? ” “ Why do you hide your face ? ” “ You have pretty eyes ! ” “ You’re here to help right ? What are you going to do ? ”

What are you going to do…

“ Master Skywalker, there’s too many of them, what are we going to do ? ”

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and prevent his mind from wandering in the past. He had avoided the presence of children perfectly since his return, knowing all too well that this would happen. He focused on slowing down his breathing and heartbeat, hoping that it would stop the juxtaposition of the faces of the children he had ruthlessly killed with those in front of him. He could sense Tarek, Pala and Yuve's puzzlement. But before anyone could say anything, the human girl started to push the other away from him:

“ Come on, guys, stop bothering him ,” she said with all the authority a six years-old could have. While she redirected the other four toward the sofas, she casted him a glance and quickly signed a “sorry” to which Anakin responded with a grateful nodd.  

Pala walked to him as the children’s attention quickly got caught by another game, and casted him a questioning glance:

“What the hell just happened to you ?” she whispered.

Anakin tried several times to swallow, failed, then finally managed:

“It’s nothing.”

 “Didn’t look like nothing…Don’t you like children anymore ?”

“Just…better keep them away from me. End of the matter.”

Pala was about to reply when he glared menacingly at her:

“I said “end of the matter”,” he stated with a voice almost identical to Vader, minus the vocoder.

She said nothing to that, but he saw her almost take a step back. He could feel he had just come near to scare her, and he could punch himself. Fortunately, one of the back doors opened, and five people entered, signaling them to gather around the holotable. Without a word, the crew and himself joined them and Anakin studied them. From various species, they were the leaders of the others anti-slavery organisations involved in the operation to dismantle Grakkus’ fighting pit and they were all staring cautiously at him. 

“Alright,” started a male Pantoran, Seyichi, that Anakin recognized as the one behind the whole operation, “it has been some time now that the Blue Sun has told us they were working with someone new. I must say, ever since we received that map of yours, we were eager to meet you. ‘Tis good to finally do so.”

The others nodded and saluted him. 

“I have to ask,” said Makira, a human with gray hair falling before her sparkling eyes, “how in the name of the Moons did you manage to create it ? And I hear you plan on completing it…Again, how ?”

“Same goes for the information that you passed along for the past few weeks,” a Devaronian called Ramhad added. “Access codes, guard rotations, names of the palace’s staff we have to be wary of and those we could trust…It's all incomplete so far, but it already helps a great deal !”

Anakin and the Blue Sun ’s exchanged a look. Knowing there was no good way to say it, they had all agreed to be out with the truth from the start, and deal with the reactions later.

“I got all of those directly at the source,” Anakin explained. “Grakkus trusts me, so I make use of it.”

“He trusts you ?” Marker, another human, asked. “How so ?”

“Look, you won’t like it,” Yuve warned. “But try not to climb on your high dewback.”

That earned her a collective frown, and him suspicious scowls.

“I’m Bogan Ashla,” he simply said, back straight and voice unwavering.

The space around the holotable erupted in angry clamor, affronted screams and accusing snarls. Anakin stood silent and unwavering in front of their indignation, knowing it was not unwarranted.

“The guy who murdered Sergei and rolled his head at Grakkus feet ?! And you are okay with this ?” Makira asked the Blue Sun’s crew bitterly.

“Okay might not be the exact word…” Tarek started.

“I sure hope not ! He killed your friend ! Your crewmate !”

“You think we don’t know that ?” Yuve bit back, anger clear on her face.

“Yet you still allow him to…” Seyichi started.

Tarek slammed his hand so violently on the holotable that the map trembled and the gesture was so unexpected that it silenced everyone. Tarek wasn’t one to display his feelings so vehemently and the expression on his face reminded them all why he used to be feared in the fighting pits. 

“Allow ?” he repeated harshly. “We don’t allow anything. We demand ! Ashla owes us, owes you ! And the slaves whose lives Sergei might have saved. He isn’t only helping us, he is settling a debt !”

“I can’t possibly imagine how you all can forgive him…” Ris’Loe, a Twi’lek and the younger of the group, grumbled.

“You think that, because we work with him, we forgive him ?” Yuve retorted. “We don’t forgive him. One day we might, but not today ! ‘Tis not because we work together that we forget what he’s done, and it’s not because we are not constantly at each-other’s throat that we let his actions slide. We have a common goal and, all together, we can achieve that goal. That is enough for us, and it will be enough for you ! If we can stand his presence, then so will you. It’s not a negotiation.”

She spoke with such authority. Anakin was impressed. And saddened in some ways. Yuve had all that was required to be a leader, someone to inspire and follow, and she could have applied those gifts of hers for such greater things, if she hadn’t been snatched when she was seven years old. Her words and the tone of her voice had quieted everyone’s vehement remarks.

“Even if we were willing to consider this,” Seyichi said on a more level tone, “and I don’t think we are…How can we even trust him ? For all we know, he could be there as a spy from Grakkus, to take us out as well.”

“You really think that, if I was a spy, I would have gone all the trouble of disguising myself only to blurt out my name within the first moments of our first meeting ?” Anakin pointed out, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I would be terrible at my job, if so.”

“He’s got a point,” conceded Zee-Mar, a Mikkian with pale pink skin.

“Ashla is not a spy,” Pala said calmly. “He doesn’t plan to kill us all. In fact, he was here to help us from the start. Well, no us here in this room, but the slaves in general. He told us his true purpose and has given proof of his honesty. He might lie about a lot of things, but not about that. He’s on our side.”

“You have a strange way to go about it,” Ramhad said, leaning forward on the table, eyes scrutinizing his face, hoping to see more than his eyes. “Killing one of our best members like that doesn’t exactly incite trust.”

“I was not aware of your operation, nor did I know Sergei was a freedom fighter,” Anakin explained. “Had I known, I would have approached things differently. I needed to get close to Grakkus quickly, and that was the fastest way. I made a mistake, I know that.”

“What’s your angle ?” Zee-Mar questioned. “Pala said you have a goal of your own that converges with ours.”

“There is one slave in particular that I need to free from Grakkus. I cannot tell you more. All you need to know is that it’s of capital importance.”

“It is,” Tarek confirmed. “And as Ashla was already working on it, he volunteered his help, to make up for the damages he caused, and to ensure that we succeed in freeing more than one person or dismantle just the fighting pit.”

“What ? You want to do more ?”

“Exactly.”

“And what do you mean precisely by “more”?” Seyichi asked, cautious but visibly curious.

“We can free every slaves in the palace,” Anakin announced. “And with the proper organization, we could even free slaves in a radius of several disctricts.”

The five leaders gapped and gasped.

“That will demand a lot more time and resources than we have. And our six organizations combined would barely be enough,” Ris’Loe said.

“ Several districts ? Is he crazy or something ? ” Makira asked the Blue Sun’s crew as if Anakin had been hit on the head with something very heavy. If he had to guess, Anakin would say that Zee-Mar, Marker and Ramhad didn’t understand Huparimar, which meant they had always been Blessed, meaning freeborn and free all their lives, and that they let Makira use the langage to cut Anakin out of the discussion, not knowing he understood every word.

“ And you support this, I suppose ? ” she continued. “ How exactly do you plan to pull this off, hum ? Do I really need to remind you that all slaves have a bomb inside them waiting to explode ? Does he have a plan to avoid them from going off ? ”

“ And even if we manage to find a way to render the transmitters inoperative, there’s still the problem of getting the slaves out of the palace and out of the planet without them being captured right back. ” Ris’Loe pointed out. “ I mean if we focus on the palace, then yes maybe we could do it… ”

“ We can’t protect all the slaves on their way to the extraction points, and even if we could, we would never have the number of ships needed to evacuate more than a few hundreds. And to evacuate them where ? What planet would be willing to take so many escaped slaves in ? We don’t have the tools nor the money for a plan at a larger scale .” Seyichi said sadly.

“ Actually, we may very well have the resources needed. And I already considered most of those points before coming to you. I would not come here only with promises and empty as my hands . And do I need to remind you that speaking the Dust Tongue in front of blessed people is to be avoided ? ” Anakin said calmly, effectively cutting the chatter. The five leaders looked at him, not expecting him to speak Huparimar. Their faces went through varying degrees of confusion, bafflement, anger and acceptance. 

“ Now that you all seem to have successfully gone through the five stages of grief ,” he said with his snarkiest voice, “ you might want to let me tell you exactly what the Blue Sun and I have planned ? ”

Pala was looking down at the table to avoid meeting his eyes and laughing out loud. Yuve and Tarek had chuckled at his comment, and while Seyichi seemed to take it with good humor, Ris’Loe and Makira were clearly more offended. The three others, who did not in fact speak Huparimar, were visibly and utterly lost. 

“ Al’runa on top of it all” Makira spat. “And you really vouch for this guy ?!”

“We do,” Yuve replied in a way that broke no argument and that those two words were the end of the discussion, now and for good.

The five leaders looked between themselves while the Blue Sun ’s crew and Anakin waited for their verdict. Anakin let his mind brushed against them and he mostly felt a mixture of hostility towards him and great surprise at the Blue Sun ’s approbation of him. As Seyichi was the one who had built up the whole operation, the others deferred to his judgment. He sighed deeply then said:

“As you said, you didn’t come here empty handed. So before we agree to anything, let us hear your plan. In Basic, for everyone’s comfort.”

Thanks to the time difference on Mortis, Anakin had had all the while to think and perfect said plan, turning the logistical issues over and over to try and solve them. And thanks to the jobs he’d done for Grakkus, he was now richer than he had ever been and could afford any parts he needed to develop any piece of tech they could need. With all  his comings and goings, he had unloaded such a huge amount of crates full of parts, boards and electrical components that the Father had looked at him in utter disbelief, fearing his quiet world of nature would turn into a factory, while Qui-Gon had laughed until his ghostly ribs should have hurt. Anakin projects had already scattered all around the monastery during his first year, now he had literally invaded an entire floor. The Father had first tried to gently argue, but had soon given up, sensing that this was absolutely no use. The project had consumed his mind, and whenever he was not focusing on the great plan to defeat Sidious, he spent all his energy on this, Sliman often watching him work, making curious comments and sometimes even giving him ideas.

“As Makira pointed out, the main problem are the transmitters and the bombs within the slaves’ bodies,” Anakin layed out. “If we don’t bypass this, we are all but powerless. We can’t simply locate them on every slave then remove them. It would take too much time, time we won’t have. Fortunately, most slavers’ transmitters work the same way. Our best chance is to cut off the signal within the transmitter. The bombs would still be active but there would be no way to trigger them. I have made some tests on all different kinds of transmitters I could find and I’m almost finished putting together something that would fry the transmitters by using their frequency. All I need is to know which one is used by the slavers here.”

“Like an EMP ?” Zee-Mar asked.

“Exactly like an EMP. And I can make sure only the transmitter’s frequency is hit. I’m also certain I can increase the radius for several blocks.”

“How many blocks ?” Ris’Leo asked.

Anakin made some calculations before answering:

“Between thirty and forty klicks of radius, top.”

That raised a lot of eyebrows, and Anakin was almost one hundred percent sure that half of them didn’t believe him. 

“As for the matter of helping the slaves escape the palace, once I’m done mapping the whole place, it won’t be hard to find the best way leading to the best exit points. Once I locate the main command center, we can take down the defense of the place and facilitate not only the escape of the slaves inside, but also all around, as Grakkus like to have control over his close environment. For the slaves outside the palace, we’ll have to organize safe routes to landing platforms were ships ready to leave the moon will be waiting. We’ll need people to escort them. And we’ll need to make sure that all of this doesn’t look suspicious.”

“And how do we do all of that exactly ?” Seyichi wondered. “We will never have enough people, even between our six associations, to do all that. And if we’re to evacuate that many people, it will require more ships than we have. And we still have to account for the fact that it will be extremely hard to move so many people without it looking dodgy.”

“We don’t have enough people for it, that much is clear,” Pala interceded. “That’s why we will recruit more. We’ll ask for the help of other freedom-fighter groups to participate in this operation. The more the merrier. And Ashla is giving us all the money he is earning from Grakkus and that he isn’t already using for the technical part of the plan nor for his personal use, which is still a crazy amount ! We can invest this money in more ships and other means of escape. We can use it to hire people if need be.” 

“It will be hard to convince other freedom-fighters to join. Too many risks.”

“Let Ashla finish his explanations, then be the judge of that,” Pala reassured.

“Moving a lot of people toward the same places will look strange, that’s why we will need a distraction,” Anakin resumed. “Several distractions actually, that will drive all the attention towards the palace and disrupt our targeted radius enough for groups of people to go unnoticed, or at least not raise much question.”

“And I imagine you already thought of those distractions,” Ramhad asked, anticipation clear on his face.

“Outside the palace, we will create a blackout. In itself, it’s not much, but Nar Shaddaa, and it’s inhabitants, aren’t used to one. The casinos will be inoperative, the promenades in the dark, public transportation will be shut down, and spaceports will have to rely on the standby generators. The confusion it will cause will be enough for well-coordinated groups to reach their assigned destination. And we will act on the day of Grakkus' Great Games, which will allow us to create a distraction within the palace by disrupting the games. I have started to create a network of palace staff ready and willing to help us. And Tarek has already volunteered himself, along with some of his old contacts from the arena, to infiltrate the fighters. Synchronized with me, those three groups will be able to cause enough riot inside the palace to focus Grakkus’ and his men's attention to the arena.”

“If the spaceports are impacted by the blackout, how are we going to evacuate ?” Marker pointed out.

“We will not be using spaceport, mostly,” Yuve explained. “We’ll use private landing platforms and docking bays, as well as locations within the factory district, which is close by.”

“And where will we be evacuating anyway ?” Makira asked, her animosity lessened now that she was hearing a plan that made sense.

“To an inhabited planet in the Outer Rim that the Blue Sun and I often use as a safe hiding place. It is not charted on galactic maps, away from the main hyperspace ways and completely under the radar. From there, we will be able to then move the slaves we would have freed to planets open to refugees.”

“If we manage to free a large number of people, finding planets willing to take them in will not be easy,” Seyichi said.

It was Anakin’s time to lean forward on the holotable, irritation starting to poke its way through him.

“Well, that will be your job,” he said. “Coming up with the whole plan was no small nor easy work, and I’m taking care of all the technical side of the project. I think it’s not excessive to ask you to contribute to the people’s relocation.”

“You will also need to pull all the strings you can, use all of your connections, so that we can have a maximum of ships and people ready to act,” Yuve said.

“As Ashla explained, I already have old contacts from the pits to give us assistance,” Tarek added. “Six of them already agreed, and I’m hoping to bring three more. That would mean eleven skilled fighters and freedom-fighters inside Grakkus’ palace. Plus Ashla, who will also deal with the command center and who is a whole squad all by himself. That’s a lot of chips on our side of the board.”

“If we decide together on a precise maximum number of people we can free and the length of the radius of the EMP, we can then adjust the details and prepare for good,” Anakin said.

They discussed the plan between them, weighting its pros and cons. Even if they realized the logistics alone would be a real conundrum, they seemed enthusiastic.  

“That planet, you’re sure it would be safe ?” Marker asked.

“The bigger problem will be the wildlife, but as long as everyone stays in the secured perimeter, it will be just fine,” Tarek said.

“It will be very dangerous for the slaves we won’t manage to free to be on Nar Shaddaa, after. If we pull this out. They will be punished for the escape of the others.”

“That was always the risk, unfortunately,” Pala said. “But that’s how the slavers keep us from trying anything. And if we never try, we can never achieve anything.”

That earned some nods of agreement. 

“You want to act for Grakkus’ Games, right ?” Seyichi asked. “That’s in less than two months time…”

“Look, I know it sounds impossible and dangerous, and costly in lives,” Anakin said in a kinder voice than he’d used before. “But I want to believe it’s possible. I know that the plan will have to be perfected down to the last detail, but if we are to succeed, it would be the hardest blow dealt against the Hutts in a very long time, and it would blow a wind of hope such as the slaves hadn’t known in far too long. It won’t solve all their problems, but it would show that it’s possible. It will give them, and the freedom-fighters, hope. And hope is a thing the galaxy desperately needs right now.”

Ris’Leo and Ramhad openly smiled at that, their expressions more open than they’d been since the start of the meeting. Reyichi was still staring at the holomap, gears turning at full speed in his mind. 

“You really thought this through,” Marker said, impressed. “You sound like someone who is used to making up strategies.”

“And who is used to seeing them through…” Makira mumbled.

“And you are sure about all the steps to take ?” Seyichi asked again. “Sure you’ll be able to build those EMP and that they will work ? That you will be able to take the command center and cause a blackout ? You doubt none of that ?”

Anakin straightened up and spoke more kindly too:

“Do I have doubts ? Yes, of course I do. But letting those doubts stop me or hinder me won’t help me to succeed. If I let my fear of failure dictate my choices, then I’m doomed to fail. Does the plan have many parts where it could go wrong ? It does, but the greatest reward never comes free of risks. We have an incredible opportunity here, if we just work together, put our resources and efforts into it, and trust our cause.”

As he said those words, Anakin felt a gentle warmth spread within him. In this very instant, he felt like a Jedi, through and through. The teachings he used to believe in but never had the courage to apply to himself made so much sense now that he had seen the consequences of not listening to them. He believed in every word he had just said, and felt, from deep inside him, that they were right. Those words reinforced his will and put his mind at peace, easing the swirls of apprehension in his heart, and he saw that they had just given courage and faith to the people he had spoken them to. He smiled softly under his mask and thought with joy that all of his Jedi teachers would be proud of him but that most importantly he was proud of himself in no arrogant way. Those words and his faith in them felt like an important step he had just climbed and let behind in the long path he was walking ever since his return.

“Alright,” Seyichi said. “We will see what we can muster. Shake some trees and see what comes loose. We’ll be in touch with the Blue Sun and try to give a proper estimation of our abilities, so that we can improve the plan’s details as much as possible.”

“Try to give us an answer quickly,” Yuve said. “The Games are approaching fast, we need to be ready by then.”

They all agreed.

“Wait !” Ris’Loe suddenly exclaimed. “We should’ve done this before, but if we’re going to speak about this a lot via different channels, we need a code name for this whole thing.”

Once more, they all agreed, and they started to throw some names, all as bad as the one before and Anakin, who was so used to using code names for military operations, couldn’t help a snort. Finally, it was Pala who got the stroke of genius:

“Operation Blue Dust. Let’s call it Operation Blue Dust. BD for short.”

It was good. Easy to remember, banal enough not to draw attention, and meaningful for those who got the references. A knowing smile spread on everyone’s lips as they turned the name in their heads, and it didn’t take more for Operation Blue Dust to be official.

Just as the tension was starting to clear out, Anakin’s comlink beeped and the sound drew all eyes on him. Checking it, Anakin said out loud:

“It’s Grakkus, I’m summoned to the palace.”

And right there, the tension was back. Anakin chose to ignore it.

“I need to go now if I want to be able to change back into my armor. I will let Yuve inform me of your progress. I will keep updating the map and transfer all information I can get.”

Pala smiled at him as a goodbye while he turned and made his way to the exit door. As he walked by the sofas, the little girl waved at him as he was leaving. His throat felt suddenly tight, and, in an awkward gesture, he forced himself to wave back. It must have looked as ridiculous as it felt, for the girl snorted. As he closed the heavy door behind him, Anakin was still trying to figure out how he should feel about this interaction and how he was actually feeling.

As he was safely hidden again under the apparatus of Bogan Ashla, he strutted confidently along the palace’s luxurious corridors toward the room where his supposedly boss awaited him. He knew his way around well by now, and even greeted some people along the way. He was introduced in a room with large bay windows offering a stunning view on the city glittering under the midmorning sun. But it wasn’t what made Anakin stop in his tracks. It was the occupants of the room.

Grakkus was lounging on a fainting couch, in a posture more Hutt-like than anything he’d displayed before, while a man with dark skin and short white hair was working on one of his artificial legs and who looked up at him as he entered. Anakin’s heart was beating faster and faster as he finally led eyes on his primary objective. 

“Ah Bogan, I almost waited for you,” Grakkus hailed him with half-fake good humor. “But you’re the first to arrive. We need to talk business.”

He raised a fat hand and gestured for him to get closer, and as he walked up to the couch, Anakin begged the question:

“The first to arrive ? Are we waiting for anyone else ?”

“Yes. I have a job to give you, and you will have partners this time around. But first, let me introduce you. That little man here is the genius to whom I owe those beauties,” Grakkus said as he patted the mechanical leg closest to his hand with affection. “Bogan, my friend, this is Oram Menbi, my most talented slave and dare I say one of my most priced possession.”

If Menbi had any feelings regarding this description, he showed none of it, and instead fell into a deep and respectful bow. As he straightened again, Anakin had the first chance to study the man in the flesh and not just holo. He was in his late fifties, and even if his eyes were wrinkled all around they were still sharp and alight with a spark of smartness not often encountered. His hands were covered by the marks of long years of work and his shoulders were dropping. He seemed to be folded on himself, as if trying to take the least space possible, but appeared in good health. Of course, Grakkus would take good care of the only man capable of making him walk. 

As Anakin acknowledged the man with a nod, he noticed that Oram was studying him back.

“You created those ?” Anakin asked while pointing at Grakkus' legs. “Impressive.”

“Thank you, master,” Oram said with a deep baritone voice. 

“How did you do it ? Did you connect the sensors to the nerves or directly to the spine ? That would be risky…Unless you managed a wireless connection between the nervous system and the movement processor.”

Oram’s eyes lit with interest, and his previous self-effacing attitude eroded as he stood straighter and he answered with enthusiasm:

“Actually, I use a neurochip that connects…”

Grakkus cut his barely started explanation by raising a hand and the man folded back on himself.

“We don’t have time for this, Oram. Please finish your job here and leave us.”

“Right, master, forgive me,” Oram said as he turned his attention back on the prosthetic. He had said those words with used deference but, as Anakin brushed his mind against his, he felt it alive and burning with frustration at being interrupted, curiosity toward this newcomer who seemed to both understand this kind of technology and interested in it, and the vague temptation to botch the job just to bother Grakkus, but the thought was quickly turned down, as Oram knew the trouble in would cause weren’t worth it. From what Anakin could feel, Oram was far from the unassuming slave. He was much more, and wanted much more. Promising…

“I suppose you remember the first job you did for me, Bogan,” Grakkus said, turning back Anakin’s attention on him. “This business with the traitor Sergei.”

Grakkus now had Anakin’s full attention. And a bad feeling was creeping it way within his mind.

“When you rolled this scum’s head to my feet, you pleased me, but it was only a small part of the problem. I’ve heard reports confirming my suspicions: these fools who thought themselves clever enough to work against me to steal my possessions are still conspiring.”

“You mean that the anti-slavers Sergei worked for are still on the moon ?” Anakin clarified with a knot tightening itself in his guts. 

“Exactly,” Grakkus said with hostility. “And I have allowed their presence long enough. No more. You and your partners will find them. And then make an example of them.”

The dread Anakin felt deafened him to the sound of the door opening again. He watched Oram’s carefully constructed mask of indifference as he felt the man’s fear. As two sets of boots echoed behind him, Grakkus greeted the newcomers jovially:

“Ah! Finally. I was just talking about you.”

Anakin turned as saw first a Skakoan whose face was so utterly diformed than it made Vader’s wounds look pretty. The man had obviously got caught in a blast of some kind and the resulting burns had been terrible enough to melt the skin with the pressure suit on the whole left side of his face and body. His left eye was gone and only remained the empty socket with its shattered edges. The whole effect was both frightening and sickening.

Then Anakin noticed the second man, and felt like the Force had just blatantly screwed him. He’d recognize this hat anywhere…

Casually biting on a toothpick, with his thumbs under his belt, Cad Bane greeted Grakkus like an old friend:

“Nice to be back, Boss.”

Blast…

Chapter Text

    Bane’s eyes were going up and down the tall frame of Bogan Ashla in a very judgy way. Anakin kept still, shoulders relaxed and his posture nonchalant, thanking the Force for his helmet hiding his grinding teeth. Of course, of all of Sidious’ lackeys, he had to get the worst pick and get the most awful one. Cad Bane was too good at what he did…And right now, he seemed to take the measure of Bogan Ashla in a way that Anakin guessed would be too accurate for his taste. Rolling the toothpick between his long fingers, Bane said in his drawling voice:

    “So, this is the guy I hear so much about ? The one that raced to the top faster than a Jawa on an unattended hydrospanner.”

    “He is,” Grakkus said as Anakin tilted his head to make it look like he was intrigued. “Gentlemen, this is Bogan Ashla.”

    Anakin gave a nod as a salute, then asked:

    “And ‘till how far exactly did you hear my name ?”

    “He’d say as far as around the corner of the street just to be a moron, but the truth is, the whole Hutt-Space speaks it,” the Skakoan replied. “Some whisper it with fear, others spit it with jealousy. Some others just say it with respect.”

    “And which one of those are you ?” Anakin asked with a smirk in his voice.

    The corner of the man’s mouth that wasn’t molted turned upward in a mock smile, giving his whole face a gloomy and quite creepy expression.

“A mix of all. Better be wary around such a…rising star.”

Cad Bane scoffed and threw the toothpick away with a snap. Grakkus turned to Anakin:

“Those two fine hunters are Veko Tolbar and Cad Bane.”

“Cad Bane ?” Anakin repeated. “Heard the name too. Pleasure.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bane scoffed again.

Veko straightened and gave Bane a side glance:

“We are here to work together. Not to participate in a pissing contest.”

“Quite right,” Grakkus said in a tone that warned them against any more banter attempts.

“What do you have for us ?”

Grakkus gestured for them to come and sit on the chairs on his left. Oram, who had watched the whole exchange, bowed to Grakkus and said:

“I’m done here, master. May I be excused, or do you need me for anything else ?”

“You can go, Oram,” Grakkus dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Oram bowed again and as the man passed by him, Anakin noticed how he was tapping his right forefinger against the back of his left hand, in a gesture that looked nervous and submissive. But Anakin recognized it for what it truly was: the signs for “emergency” and “meeting” in silent Huparimar. Oram was the only cursed in the room, or so the man thought, yet he still did those signs, repeatedly, until the door closed behind him. Which meant that the people to whom those signs were for weren’t in the room, which was filled with ostentatious and invisible holocameras connected to monitors in command centers, which were at all time supervised by a team of at least five people in each center. A vivid suspicion took root inside him and he got the nagging feeling he would have the answer to it very soon.

Anakin was careful not to turned his head toward the slave to not show how his attention had focused on him, and put all those questions in a corner of his mind. 

“I know that, separately, each of you could end this matter,” Grakkus explained. “But it seems that those stupid…freedom-fighters…”

He said those words with such a scorn that his limp shoulders shuddered.

“They appear to be more organized than I thought. And it would also appear to be more of them than I was led to believe. Vasco really did a good job in hiding their presence, this dopa-maskey kung !”

“I thought that Vasco was leaking intel from the palace, not keeping it out,” Anakin remarked, confused, as if he didn’t already know everything about Sergei’s work.

“That’s what I thought as well when I placed the contract. But when certain information started to reach my ear again after Vasco’s death, I was forced to reconsider his role.”

“So what was the man doing exactly ?” Veko asked. “And how did you find out ?”

“Vasco was in charge of communication, and skillfully managed to filter information, passing some to his fellow sleemo, withholding others from me and my inner circle and guards. He made sure that what he needed to deliver to his band went around smoothly within the walls of my palace and had built a network of other traitors in our ranks.”

The more Anakin heard, the less he liked this conversation. From what Pala and Tarek had explained, Sergei’s network had been hard built, its members chosen very carefully, but efficient and trustworthy. It had taken months, but it was solid and each member was good at keeping hidden, flying under the Hutt’s radar masterfully, and only Sergei had known every part of that chain. With him gone, it had been harder to communicate with the network as the remaining crew of the Blue Sun barely had a handful of names. They still relied on it though, and after the crew had spread the word that he could be trusted, he’d manage to make contact with two of the members, who in turn pass information along to the others or back to him. With what he’d just witnessed, he strongly suspected that Oram was actually part of the network. And if it was now compromised…

Keeping his hands still and in everyone’s sight, he used the Force to activate the secure channel he used to send data to the Blue Sun , and the holoprojector inside his visor started to transmit what was happening directly to the hototable in the meeting room underneath the factory. Bane’s presence gave him a bit of a cold sweat, but he reassured himself by remembering that he’d tested this technique before and so far no security system had picked-up on the transmission and nothing was visually giving him away while doing it. 

“You caught some of those gutter rats ?” Cad Bane asked Grakkus. 

“And made them squeal. They told us about Sergei’s little web of would-be heroes.”

“Well, that will make our job easier,” Anakin said. “Do you have any names for us ? The spy you caught ? Still got him in custody ?”

“I do,” Grakkus said but his nostrils flared in a bitter expression.  “But those sleemo are good. By the time we tried to get the few names he gave us, they had disappeared. You are of course welcome to interrogate him further. Perhaps you will get more out of him than we did.”

“So you want us to find those traitors so that they can lead us to the bigger cell ?” Veko asked, like he was already mapping out the whole plan inside his head.

Grakkus sank deeper inside his couch, making himself more comfortable, and grabbed a glass of wine. He made the dark liquid turn several times inside the glass before bringing it to his lips, sipping it appreciatively. He clicked his tongue and his eyes found them, hard and unforgiving:

“I don’t care how you do it, just eliminate them all. The traitors, the spies, the whole blasted operation. You don’t have to be discreet about it, nor do you have to hold back. On the contrary, you can burn down entire blocks if you need to. Show them ! Show everyone what it costs to anger a Hutt such as myself.”

“And if they hide in places like, let say casinos ?” Bane wondered. “Are we really allowed to burn those places down too ? Wouldn’t look good for your business, Boss.”

“If they hide in such places, it would mean that the managers of said places have let them slip, or worse allowed them to hide there,” Anakin pointed out coldly. “They would then deserve to be reduced to ashes. And the clientele of such distinguished establishments would be best suited to tell the rest of Hutt Space and the Outer-Rim that you don’t mess with Grakkus.”

He made a mock of a salute and Grakkus chuckled as he raised his glass, as if making a toast:

“Still so quick on the uptake, Bogan. I never get tired of it.”

“Ruthless, sir. If I gave a blast, I’d almost feel sorry for the poor bastards.”

“But you don’t, which is why I like you. Do as you wish,” Grakkus instructed them. “You can use whatever resources you want, even call allies. I simply want this done quickly and permanently.”

“Yes, yes,” Veko hummed, rubbing his chin pensively. “I wouldn’t look good if freedom fighters and rascals of such sort were still kicking around by the time your Great Games started, right ?”

The Hutt’s gaze was colder than Hoth’s tundra and his voice came as a low rumble, similar to an earthquake:

“No. It would not.”

For the very first time, Anakin felt, if not intimidated, impressed in Grakkus’ presence. If he messed it all up, the Hutt would be a terrible enemy to contend with. The slug pressed a button on the side of his seat and all three of their portable terminals beeped.

“I just sent you all the data in my possession. Make good use of it. I would hate to be dissapointed.”

They were then dismissed by a sharp gesture of Grakkus’ hand. As they left Grakkus’ private quarters and went back to the common areas of the palace, Veko asked, chirpy:

“Anyone want a drink ?” 

Anakin simply knocked once on his helmet. Veko had a small smile that would have passed as a friendly apology but his distorted face made it just sickening.

“I’ll have one,” Bane said as he started walking toward the closest bar. “Coming, princess ?” he added, turning toward Anakin.

When his two new work partners were seated with a glass of alcohol, Anakin took special care to face the room, scanning it, searching for any sign of someone behaving in a way only him out of them three could recognize. His visor was still recording and broadcasting to the factory, the crews would be able to tell him if he’d missed something. Hopefully, they were already working like imperial cadets the night before their final exam to craft a plan that would save all of their asses. Best to give them some things to work with. He turned his terminal on, and holos appeared between them, some videos, some pictures, some lists of names…The profiles of spy Grakkus had caught and of those he gave up were exhaustive, with their names, employment, addresses, but also the planets they originated from and those they lived on since their capture, medical record, record of their past owners…The hunters had more than enough to start digging. So Anakin wanted to know how they would tackle this problem and, with any luck, give solid ideas to the crews about how to counter them.

“There’s plenty to go with. Grakkus did all the homework for us. What would be your strategy ?” he asked.

“Well, one of us should definitely go interrogate this snitch,” Veko said. “Who knows what else he could let loose ?”

“Sounds about right,” Bane agreed.

“And we should search the last known living places of the spies who disappeared. Look for clues as to where they might have fled to.”

“Well, now that will be a waste of time,” Anakin pointed out leisurely. 

The two others turned to him, curious and suspicious:

“And why do you think so ?” Veko asked, his still polite voice contrasting with the mess of his face.

“Sergei didn’t expect anyone to find him as quickly as I did, so he took his sweet time. Cost him his life. I can’t believe they would be stupid enough to make the same mistake after that. They will have all cleaned up their places, left it dry of any intel we could have exploited, and ran like hell, the second they found out they were exposed.”

Bane click his tongue and agreed:

“Sounds about right too. They are some hours ahead of us now, that leaves them plenty of time to cover their tracks. Better check the security footage of the streets around the places. That, they don’t have access to so easily.”

Bane nodded as he took a sip of his drink. 

“We could also watch older footage, see if we can make out a regular itinerary,” Veko suggested. “If we can spot a rhythm to their comings and goings…”

“You want to watch hours upon hours of footage of three different guys’ daily life ?!” Bane exclaimed. 

“Two guys and one lady, to be precise,” Veko replied with a smirk. Anakin was tempted to tell him to stop doing that, the way his face contorted each time was both horrible and a bitter reminder of what he himself had been reduced to.

“Whatever…”Bane said, rolling his eyes. “The boss wants this done and over quickly. How is sitting in front of a screen for probably days is gonna achieve that ?”

“Well, with all the datas Grakkus provided, we have a good idea of what we are looking for,” Veko said. 

“Plus it’s not like we will have to watch the whole of the footage. Ever heard of a little thing called technology ?” Anakin couldn’t hold back with irony dripping from his voice. “It's a wonderful little thing that allows us to select the data we want to see, criss-cross several parameters of research, fast-forward,target-lock faces and shapes…Truly, amazing !”

Veko was laughing in his glass while Bane was giving him a deadpan stare:

“Hilarious. But nice of you to volunteer. While you two lovebirds do that, I’ll go get my intel straight from the street.”

“And while you’re at it, take the time to remind everyone under whose authority we are working,” Veko, a shadow passing over his face.

As Veko spoke, a message appeared inside Anakin’s visor. “Split them. Stall with the footages.”

So, the crews were watching and working. Good. 

“How about Bane and I end the snitch’s interrogation, while Veko goes get the footage ?” Anakin suggested. “I’ll join Veko when we’re done.”

While the two hunters agreed a simple “Perfect” appeared inside his visor. 

“If you’ve got any other ideas, time to share.”

No reply from both teams.

“Then let’s go.”

They parted ways and Anakin and Bane went to the prison block, diving deeper inside the palace’s depths than Anakin had ever gone before. He didn’t miss a beat and used the opportunity to add pieces to the map, all the while being careful of Bane’s presence beside him.

“So, you said you knew my name,” Bane said casually. “From where exactly ?”

“Well, I did my homework before coming here. I wanted to know who would be my main competitors.”

“Hum, naturally. But that doesn’t really answer my question, does it ?”

Anakin knew he had to pick his answer carefully. If he mentioned too many of Bane’s jobs where Jedi, and particularly himself, had been involved, he would give too much grist to Bane’s mill. For Anakin was convinced the man was here on behalf of Sidious. The timing was too convenient to be otherwise. Between Ashla’s name and growing reputation and his actions to save Obi-Wan, he had caught the attention of his old master, he could feel it in his guts. 

“Well first Cradossk speaks good of you,” he said. “Has some nice stories. That whole affair at the Senate was of course a masterpiece. And it’s really not that hard. If you ask the question “who’s the best bounty hunter out there” around these parts, the answer is always the same.”

“And now, your name comes close behind,” Bane replied, but Anakin sensed less animosity than before. “ You are becoming my competition.”

“Sorry to hear that, but as I told Grakkus, I came here to work, not to make friends.”

At that, Bane had one of those smiles that Anakin would always associate with Cad Bane, and Cad Bane alone. They had arrived in front of the high security section, and three guards were keeping watch inside a booth. They identified themselves and stated their purpose here, then patiently waited as they went through all of the security. Finally, a guard opened the gate and led them toward their destination. As they followed him, Bane pick the conversation where they left it:

“Well coming here to make enemies isn’t exactly a good strategy either, don’t you think ? And making some friends can never do any harm. Quite the opposite actually. You never know when you might need a hand.”

“Oh, and you want to be mine, is that right ? Wanna join hands, bread each-other non-existent hair and sing kumbaya ?”

“Would it be so surprising ?” Bane asked, still smiling.

“Well you’ve been nothing but honey and butterflies so far with me…”

“Ow…did you take it personally ? That’s so cute…”

“Or maybe you just want to befriend me to get to know me better…”

“...that’s usually what friends do…”

“...so that when the time is right, you’d know my weaknesses and soft spots well enough to best me.”

Bane’s smile deepened.

“Eh, what makes you think that ?”

“Because that is precisely what I would do.”

Bane laughed openly as they arrived before the cell door. 

“Wait here,” Anakin said to the guard.

The man turned the laser shield off and the hunters walked down the three steps leading to the cell itself. Inside, a Twi’Lek man was tied down with durasteel handcuffs to a chair seal to the ground. Anakin had a hard time recognizing him from the picture he had seen moments before in the files Grakkus had given them as he was in very poor shape after having obviously been beaten up thoroughly. His face was a mess, hanging low on his chest, one of his eyes so swollen he couldn’t open it. He had lashes and cuts on his arms and, by the state of his shirt, Anakin guessed his back was covered with electrowipe bites. He could guess several broken fingers, and none of them had their nails anymore. Looking down, Anakin saw that his feet were crushed and nailed to the floor. His whole skin was so bruised, it’s original light yellow was barely visible. The man looked to be in a pain induced daze, and seemed to not have heard them come in.

Anakin had to take a very brief moment to breathe slowly, rein in his anger and disgust and not let it show. This was good old fashioned torture, the kind that was meant to deliver answer as much as true pain. The Hutt had wanted this man to suffer and for said suffering to be drawn-out, the effective technique barely recognisable under the simple lashing out. Grakkus had opted for punitive violence instead of a productive one, which told a lot about the slug, and Anakin was all too happy to keep it under his hat.  Truth serum and modern interrogation techniques didn’t require so much blood. He himself had rarely drawn any drops while questioning his victims, even when he didn’t use the Force. 

For a split second, he thought to himself that Leia’s dress had remained as white as the first day when he’d been done with her, and he nearly gagged. He had to use all of his willpower to remain stoic in front of Bane, but now that the comparison had been made, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to it…

Anakin walked up to the man, put a hand under the man’s chin and lifted his head up. The Twi’Lek’s hard stare from his remaining eye greeted him, and Anakin was impressed to see that the man was in no daze at all. Despite the pain, despite his position and despite his blown cover, the man was still ready to fight. Anakin didn’t need the Force to know that look. He was furious, at his jailors for what they put him through, and at himself for his weakness, for pleasing them in giving them what they wanted. Right now, he would have bitten Anakin’s hand, even if it would only have caused him more pain, if Anakin hadn’t reflexively tightened his grip.

“Lunmar, right ?” he asked the Twi’Lek. “Glad to see you awake.”

Lunmar’s glare grew even angrier, and Anakin could almost hear every single curse the captive was throwing at him in his mind.

“Awake and pissed off,” Bane noted with a bit of teasing.

“Good,” Anakin said, letting Lunmar’s chin go and taking a step back. “Anger is good, gives fuel to your fire, sharpens your focus. Tell me, Lunmar, are you angry and focused enough to have a word with us ?”

Lunmar straightened as best he could, given his injuries and shackles, and the fury in his eye became shaded with absolute contempt. He then spat a blood clot that landed between Anakin and Bane’s boots.

“Well, off to a great start,” Bane mumbled.

“There is no more that you or any of the slug’s bootlickers can take out of me,” Lunmar replied with defiance, his voice hoarse from all the screaming he must have done.

“Well, see, that’s where I believe you’re wrong, my friend,” Bane said as he walked toward the chair and started to circle it. Lunmar’s eye followed him as long as he could, but when Bane disappeared behind his back,his attention fell on Anakin once more. He didn’t waste the opportunity, and put his hands on his belt in a posture that looked alert but meant one word: “ally”. Lunmar frowned, his eye going from Anakin’s hand to his face. Meanwhile, Bane kept talking:

“See, my colleague and I believe that there are still things we could learn from you. Of course this doesn’t have to get ugly. You already spilled some of the beans, you’ve got nothing to lose now.”

Lunmar had a bitter laugh at that and, while keeping his eye locked onto Anakin, said:

“I’m dead man. Screwed up once, put people I care about in danger. You’re gonna punch anyway. And I’m dead anyway. So you can kindly suck my dick !”

Anakin had to think fast. He could guess that this man was clever and understood double-speak and could read between the lines. He wouldn’t have lasted so long as a spy if he couldn’t. He needed to make him understand that he had to send them on a false lead so he and the crews could by some time…

“Look, I get it,” he said,“Loyalty, that’s valuable. But you also have to think about yourself once in a while. We know that there are more like you out there and we will unearth them from whatever dusty hole they linger. Whether you tell us something or not, we will, so in the end what you say will only change how long it takes. So, you can sing like a sunbird now, give us, masters of this game, what we want, and we’ll see if we can give you and the rest of your freedom-fighter pack a quick, clean death. Keep your mouth shut, and the tempest that will blow you all away will be a thing of nightmares.”

He hadn’t moved for where he stood, but had made casual gestures as he spoke. Lunmar had understood, he could feel it. The gestures, the carefully picked words…

“What do you know about loyalty ?” he asked with a smirk. “What do you know about dust ? I bet not a single grain ever touched this fancy shiny helmet of yours…”

“Well we know a lot about loyalty, don’t we Bane ?”

Bane, still behind Lunmar, came to rest his hands on the Twi’Lek’s shoulders as he said:

“Oh yes. Credits have our absolute loyalty !”

Lunmar had the guts to chuckle:

“Oh come on, do your worst. I’ve already been pulled apart once. What more can you do ?”

“And you broke once !” Bane pointed out. “Who's to say you won’t again ? So really, I’d prefer not to spill blood on my coat, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to suffer anymore. So be a nice snitch and let’s go straight to the part where you just talk.” 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Lunmar gave as a poor show of confidence.

“Do you even know who we are ?”

Lunmar scoffed and turned his head toward Bane:

“Kinda hard not to know. You’re Cad Bane. This one is Bogan Ashla.”

“Well, our names should tell you everything you need to know about our success rate and the means we’re ready to employ to get those results.”

Lunmar turned his attention back on Anakin, and he signed “delay” and “false trail”, then came to stand right before Lunmar. He knew he had to make a show of breaking Lunmar’s will so that whatever he would reveal next would sound genuine, but unease had settled over him like an oppressive blanket. He used to love this part, to break a man’s mind into pieces, make them realize how insignificant they were, bring forth their fear and doubts, and see them crumble before him. Now the simple idea of having to do it just for show left an awful taste in his mouth and sent shivers and cold sweat down his spine. He was afraid. Afraid he would still be terribly good at this and love it still. So he made a quick sign incinting Lunmar to ignore all he was going to say next, then crouched his front of him, so that their eyes were perfectly aligned.

“You know why I rolled Vasco’s head at Grakkus’s fake feet ? Because I don’t care. I don’t care about any of you. Vasco, you, your little organization of agitators…I don’t care about Bane right here, and ultimately I don’t care about Grakkus. All I care about is myself, what I want, and how much credits I can make. If I have to burn down a house full of kids to get what I want, I’ll craft the matches myself. You are nothing. None of you are anything. You’re just tools at my disposal or obstacles in my way. And tools can be disposed of just as obstacles can be destroyed. I don’t care about the size of the bomb needed to blown said obstacles down. I don’t care about the collateral. So here’s my question: do you really want a man who couldn’t possibly be bothered to be mindful about the casualties to be let loose after those people you care about without a specific target in sight ?”

Lunmar watched him carefully, and he could feel Bane’s stare as well.

“Would you betray Grakkus if someone offered you more than he’s giving you ?” Lunmar asked.

“Of course ! And he’d be a fool not to know that. Bane’s the same. Aren’t you, Caddy ?!”

The face Bane pulled when hearing the pet name was just priceless, but he still rolled with it:

“I’d sell you all for a ration bar.”

Lunmar’s expression was a mix of worry and fear. He looked at Anakin as if he couldn’t tell whether his whole speech was a scam or if he actually meant every word. And Anakin had to use the Force to know that he was putting a show of hesitating. Lunmar was biting his lip and avoiding his eyes now, his breath coming quicker. He shook his head and finally let out a defeated sigh:

“The Undercity. Near the shipyard. There’s an old warehouse that leads to abandoned tunnels. Old drainage system.”

Bane tapped Lunmar shoulder in a mockery of a friendly gesture:

“See, wasn’t so bad, right ?”

He came back by Anakin’s side as he straightened up and continued:

“We’ll be checking this out. Better be good. You don’t want us back here. We won’t be so friendly next time.”

As Bane made to leave the cell, Lunmar started to laugh. A crushed, beaten laugh.

“You whole lot…you really are the worst, aren’t you ? I betrayed everything I cared for, because I was weak. Now I’m just going to be beaten to death and sent to the trash compactor along with all the things you trample without a single thought or care. Do what you must. I’ll do what I should have done hours ago.”

Anakin got the warning from the Force a second before and was therefore too slow to act as Lunmar worked his jaw and crushed something between his teeth. 

“No !” was all he could say while rushing to Lunmar, who already had white foam falling from his lips, his last working eye rolled inside his head. He grabbed Lunmar’s head between his hands, but it was too late already. As he watched Lunmar’s dead form, Anakin was progressively deafened by the blood beating inside his ears. Why had the Force warned him so late ? Why hadn’t he been faster ? Why did Lunmar do this at all ? He knew Bogan was on his side, he could have worked something to break him free, to get him safely back to the crews…Blast ! 

“What’s the matter ?” Bane asked behind him. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” Anakin lied, his throat dry, “but he could have given us more.”

“Maybe. Or maybe we just pushed him beyond his limits. It’s weird, though. If he had it the whole time, why didn’t he use it sooner ?”

Because he still had hope his friends would come for him.

Because his guilt hadn’t crushed him completely yet.

Because part of him wanted to be saved.

And all he got was Anakin…

“Well, it’s not like it matters anymore, right ?” Anakin said as he turned on his heels and left the cell without looking back. 

He could hear Bane’s footsteps right behind his.

“Where’re you going ?” he asked.

“Join Veko to go through the security footage, as agreed upon before,” Anakin replied without turning back, but Bane grabbed him by the arm and forced him to stop and look his way. Anakin had to take upon himself not to slap the Duro with all his strength and it showed as Bane arched an eyebrow mockingly, so he snarled:

“People don’t touch me and that’s not negotiable. So if you intend to keep that hand, I suggest you get it off me right now.”

But Bane didn’t move, simply said in a suspicious voice:

“We have a location and you want to go play dataworm with Mister Ugly ?”

Anakin chuckled darkly:

“And they say you are the best hunter out there ? Wow…I don’t know if I should laugh or cry that you believe he gave us an actual lead…”

He put his left hand on Bane’s wrist and started squeezing, knowing that he wouldn’t put as much strength as he would have with his right hand, but he knew Bane would recognise a prosthetic straight away.

“You said you wanted to hit the street earlier, then do it. Find out if this information is good and if so, inform us and we will come to your location. If it’s not, then we would not have wasted a time we could have invested somewhere else.”

He kept pressing harder and harder on Bane’s wrist, and the man started to wince.

“I didn’t remember Grakkus saying that you were calling the shots,” he still managed to hiss between his teeth. Anakin simply twisted his arm with a smooth move that made Bane finally let go and yelp. Anakin let him go as he took a step back, massaging his hurt wrist and shooting him a murderous glare.

“Well considering that you seem clearly overestimated by everyone, yes I am,” Anakin said with disdain. “Now you can either run to Grakkus and wine about it, or you can do your job and go check the shipyard. And next time you touch me, I'll cut off whatever body part you used to do it.”

Bane smiled that trademark grin again and Anakin knew he had just created more problems for himself.

“Not friends then,” Bane said.

“Don’t worry, if you want to try and put a blaster bolt between my shoulders, I’ll be more than happy to play.”

Anakin turned on his heels and headed to the room where Veko and him had decided to meet. On his way, he made a small detour so he could sneak in a small droid repair chamber. The place was entirely automated and devoid of holocameras. Once the door was closed behind him, he leaned on it, taking deep breaths. His comm beeped and he answered it immediately.

“You’re okay ?” Pala asked, concerned.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I was too slow, I couldn’t stop him from…I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” she replied even though something in her voice made it sound as if it definitely was not. “Like he said, he was dead anyway.”

“I could have tried to free him,” Anakin insisted.

“How ?” Pala asked, skeptical. 

“I don’t know ! I have literally no idea ! But I should have tried at least !”

“He knew the risks. We all do. Jedi and clones aren’t the only ones willing to die for the cause they fight for. Stop taking away his choice to make it about you.”

Pala’s voice was cold as she said that, and it slapped Anakin back to the most pressing problem. He sighed warily, focused and asked:

“So I assume you and the others saw all that I transmitted. What is the plan ?”

“For now you’re doing great. Keep Veko occupied with the footages and leave Bane to investigate the false lead. He’ll understand quickly enough that it’s a dead end, but it’s giving us the time to move everything from the factory to…”

“Don’t tell me where !” Anakin cut.

“Right, in case the transmision isn’t as secured as we thought.”

“Or I get caught too and they decide to use better interrogating methods on me.”

“Would it work ?” Pala asked, worried.

“I want to say no, because normally it wouldn’t but as I am now, I’m not sure, so let’s play this safe. What is the next move ?”

“Direct Veko through the footages. You’ll see Seyichi on it, you can track him down by narrowing the search parameters.”

“Wait, you want us to find Seyichi ? Isn’t it a very bad idea ?” Anakin asked, baffled.

“Seyichi is a known figure in the anti-slavery movements, slavers know him. If he’s taken down, that’s a hard blow for the cause throughout the galaxy. He has several bounties on his head, and no small ones.”

“So he will draw all the attention, from Grakkus who will want a big player out of the game, and the hunters for the credits he can bring. Clever. Giving time to the rest of us to do what exactly ?”

“He has to lead the three of you to the factory and we’ll have to fake his death. We are still working out the details on this one. It has to be credible.”

“More than credible, it has to be undisputable,” Anakin mulled. “If Grakkus has a single doubt about it, he won’t let his attention go down, and we are all in for more troubles then.”

“Okay but how ?”

Anakin was racking his brain, trying to find something, anything, that could get them out of this impasse. He tried to remember the room where he’d met the other members, what the factory looked like…Then something crazy clicked:

“Down the corridor leading to the meeting room…Was this pressured oxygen bottles lined against the walls?”

“Yes,” Pala replied, not knowing how it could help. “There’s plenty around, the workers often need them when they work in the hottest part of the factory.”

“Any other highly explosive gasses or material in the factory ?”

“Sure, it’s a transparisteel factory, there’s plenty of…”

Pala trailed off, as she seemed to understand where Anakin was going with this.

“You want to blow up the factory ?” she asked, half-impressed half-horrified.

“With a bit of luck we’ll blow Bane along with it,” he said darkly.

“What the hell ?” Yuve’s voice intervened. “Wait, hold on. Am I getting this right ? You want to blow up a factory, in a district full of other factories that could blow up as well ?”

“I’ll make sure we do this during the night shift, it’s always less crowded,” Anakin wanted to reassure her. “Plus the factories are already built a good distance from each other. They have to, it’s standard procedure, precisely in cases of explosion or fire. And it’s a win-win ! We blow up the factory and with it any evidence of our activities and who’s going to doubt the death of someone caught in the middle of a massive fireball of chemicals and melted metals ? Plus, it’s going to burn so hot, there won’t be much left, so identification will be impossible.”

“But there will be people inside the factory !” Yuve pointed angrily. “If we evacuate before it would be like yelling “hey look, we’re setting up a trap” to the very people we want trapped. Do you plan on blowing up the workers as well ? ‘Cause they won’t be able to leave.”

“Not necessarily…” Pala said pensively. “If I remember correctly, the old drainage system runs under the factory as well. There are several points of entry from inside the factory. We can evacuate the workers from inside the factory directly through it. Bane and Tolbar would not realize anything until it’s too late.”

“It’s still risky,” Yuve said, not convinced. “And what are we supposed to say to them to get them to evacuate ? “Hey sorry guys, we are going to blow up your source of income to cover a screw up and you might get hurt in the process, sorry for the inconvenience it will create”, yeah sure they will like it, no doubt…”

“Most of the people who work there know us and are sympathizers,” Pala countered. “They won’t like it, sure, but they will understand. And we can always pretend there’s…I don’t know, gas leak or something…”

“Even better to make them believe in a gas leak,” Anakin pointed out. “This way, when the factory goes up in flames and the Hutt’s investigate and interrogate the workers, they will all tell the same plausible story.”

Anakin heard a tired sigh from Yuve:

“I see that the two of you are ganged up on me. And crazy ! This is a crazy idea.”

“Yeah, you mentioned it before, I believe,” Pala replied and Anakin could also see her mocking smile. 

“It could work,” Tarek's voice came evenly from the background. “If we start now, we have six hours before the night shifts, that’s more than enough to prepare it all, and a reasonable amount of time for Anakin to spend with Tolbar to create the trail. I can work.”

“Come on, you too, darling ?! Yuve exclaimed. “And even assuming we manage to convince the others to join this crazy plan…once you’re inside the factory, then what ? What’s your plan ?”

“Ideally I manage to get both Tolbar and Bane caught in the explosion, but if I’m the only one to walk away alive, it will raise too many questions we want to avoid. So either we all get out or at least one of them goes down. You will have to give me access to the remote detonator, so that I can trigger the bombs when it suits us the best. When Grakkus will ask us how we can be sure that Seyichi died in the explosion we will be able to give him the security footage all around the building showing that he never came out of the building.”

“Okay…I still think it’s gundarkshit crazy, but yeah, if done correctly, it could work,” Yuve admitted. “But I really want marked down that I don’t like where your minds go, you two sunstroke desert babies.”

“Noted,” Pala said with a big smile in her voice.

“Do all of your war strategies look like patches of terrible ideas taped together ?” Yuve asked.

“No,” Anakin said. “Usually they simply are the worst idea you can think of, put in action in the most erratic way.”

“Well, that’s comforting…”

“Hey ! I still have a great success ratio !”

 “And we’ll keep it that way,” Pala assured. “Now let’s go convince everyone and put it all in motion. Anakin, you have to give us at least six hours.”

“Not a problem. I’ll comm again when we leave the palace, so that Seyichi can get ready to play bait if need be.”

Anakin ended the transmission and took a deep breath. He had an objective now and a precise idea of what to do, which helped in calming the furious beating of his heart. It was unnerving. The young man he had been had thrived under situations like this, where everything was decided on the spot after a plan had gone wrong and he had to improvise, his wild creativity at its best when required in such a way, flourishing in the chaos. After two decades as Vader, who had valued order above all things, he found it hard to work like this again. But now he could focus. The oppressive feeling of not being in control of everything was slowly fading away as he reminded himself that he wasn’t the only capable mind working on this problem, that they had found a solution together, and that he wasn’t the only one worrying and caring about what was happening. Evening his breath, Anakin repeated the words of Pala: Lunmar had made his choice and it wasn’t about him. He’d found a way to fake Seyichi’s death and destroy the evidence, but it was the crews who came up with the plan. Straightening himself, he took one last deep breath, released his emotions in the Force, and slipped out of the room. 

It took him only a few minutes before finding Veko sat before a giant monitor while a security agent was showing him how to operate the commands. Anakin looked around and two other guards were sitting before another monitor which was streaming live feed of numerous places outside the palace. Anakin tried to commit them to memory to know which part of the palace’s surroundings were under such tight surveillance and how to go around them.

 Veko turned his head towards him as soon as he came through the door and waved for him to approach. As Anakin got closer, he heard the agent ask if Veko had understood all that he just explained, and the Skakoan nodded just once. The movement was courteous but sharp and the agent didn’t misunderstand it. He moved away and returned to his station as Anakin grabbed the backrest of the chair near Veko and sat. 

“Any luck ?” Anakin asked, gesturing toward the monitors.

“Well, we are lucky to be on a mission assigned by Grakkus himself,” Veko said while readjusting his pressurized glasses. “We had to call Grakkus himself before the guards let me in here at all.”

“Isn't that a good sign ? Means they are doing their jobs correctly.”

“Oh, I don’t blame them at all. Better be safe than sorry. But I could have gotten started already if it was not for that loss of time.”

“Gathered anything good ?”

“Oh yes ! I have two weeks worth of data for all of the three different locations. Now all we have to do is to be clever about it and select the right search pattern…”

“We’ll narrow it down as we go. Let’s start wild.”

Veko made a sound that couldn’t possibly describe as one of enthusiasm, and Anakin smiled, which echoed in Bogan’s voice:

“Come on, the beginning is always the worst, but the reward is worth it, wouldn’t you say ? And do I need to remind you that this was your idea ?”

“Before we plunge headfirst into this brilliant idea of mine, did you have any luck on your side ? Where did Bane go ?”

“We cracked the guy like an egg,” Anakin shrugged. “He gave us a lead, but there are good chances that it will turn out to be a diversion or just a way to get back at us by having us going round in circles.”

Veko raised an eyebrow which weirdly made his face more symmetrical:

“You don’t believe him ?”

“Hum…not sure. He killed himself right after. Swallowed some poison hidden in his teeth.”

“Well, he was dead anyway. But yes he could have given you false intel to cover for his friends’ escape. While we are here, they could have the time to disappear.”

“Not if we do our job well. How do you suggest we start the search ?”

They spent the first hours changing and adjusting the search parameters until they finally found a pattern and a regularity to Lunmar and the two others’ comings and goings. They sat comfortably as the chairs were meant for long hours of watch, and started to put some footages aside as the third hour ended. It was around that time that Bane contacted them to tell them that the lead was a scam, that he’d found only long abandoned hideouts, but was intrigued by the old ventilation and evacuation system that was large enough for most species to move into and a perfect way to travel undetected so he was going to try and see what he could find inside. Anakin and Veko agreed and Anakin managed to send a message to the Blue Sun to warn them. Then the two of them resumed their watch. Anakin had only seen Seyichi twice by now, so he couldn’t point it out yet as a new lead, plus he still had three more hours to go if he wanted to give the crews enough time to put everything into place. So he kept quiet, and only spoke to make casual conversation with Veko. The man was much more subtle than Cad Bane, but Anakin recognized an interrogation when he saw one. Veko was always polite and seemed truly curious about what Anakin had to say but, hidden within a lot of questions that meant nothing when asked so randomly, he could read the thread of Veko’s thoughts. The man was waiting for him to say something that he shouldn’t, trying to find a crack in the armor in which he could slither. He was good, Anakin had to admit it. Had he truly been his twenty years old self, he would have fallen for it. 

“So tell me,” Veko said as the fifth hour started, “what is it like ? The Unknown Regions I mean.”

“Unknown,” Anakin simply replied as he fast-forwarded the footage he was working on.

Veko laughed, not offended in the least.

“Unknown for us, not you. Because of how out of reach they are, they seem almost legendary to us, but they probably are very dull. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“I never hid the fact that I came here because it was easier to work and find jobs, not because the Chaos is dull,” Anakin said. “I kinda miss it, actually.”

“What do you miss the most ? The impractical shiplanes ? The impossibility to use lightspeed for extended periods of time ? The gravity wells ? The absence of a central government ?”

“All of it. Make the place less crowded…”

Veko laughed again, and Anakin indulged him:

“It’s home, it’s as simple as that. The Chaos has a charm of its own, one very different from here. The people are in a different mind set as well. They share similarities with people here, of course, but still, it’s not the same.”

“Did you leave anyone behind ?”

“No one that will regret me. Or that I could really regret. Except one maybe…”

Veko turned to face him, clearly expecting Bogan to finish his sentence, so Anakin carried on, finding inspiration much more easily than he’d thought, and in places that weren’t completely lies:

“A Chiss I worked with a lot. Cleverest man I ever met. It can be annoying at times, but it makes him damn efficient. Treats his men right and a great strategist, so people are loyal to him. He’s loyal too. To a fault. Associated himself with the wrong people. Can’t really blame him, though. He believes in strength and unity. He only did what he thought was best to protect his people.”

Veko hummed in agreement:

“We often do that, go to great lengths to protect what we care about the most. Maybe we go too far sometimes, maybe it’s not worth it sometimes, but we just can’t help it.”

“Who’s “we” ?”Anakin asked.

“Those of us who care about more than just ourselves,” Veko replied with a smile that looked almost sad, but Anakin couldn’t tell with the way his scarred face was distorted.

“You count yourself among this kind of people ?” Anakin asked again, genuinely curious.

“That I do,” Veko replied with no shame. “People tend to believe that bounty hunters are all coldhearted bastards, and many like to act like that, so that people won’t see under the bravado but that’s all a mask. A carefully crafted mirror to reflect people’s expectations. Some of us care. Some of us care so much that’s the very reason why we’re in the business in the first place.”

Anakin hadn’t missed the way Veko had turned his phrase, and knew that the man had done it on purpose. He frowned under his helmet, not feeling comfortable with how easily Veko seemed to read between the lines. He then pointed to Veko’s disfigured face and asked:

“I can tell you know a lot about going too far in order to protect what you care about the most.”

Veko chuckled:

“Touché…”

They stayed quiet for a few minutes after that, eyes on the monitors, when Veko asked another question:

“Those Chiss…I heard you mentioned them during your first meeting with Grakkus. That you worked a lot with them in the past.”

“I did, what about them ?”

“What makes you favor them ?”

“Well, they certainly are the biggest power in the Chaos, so they have ressources. Plus they are very practical and rational. Once you’re used to working with them, it's a very smooth partnership. What about you ? Have any preference for employers ?”

“I must confess I usually turn to my own people. And with the war, the Techno Syndicate can use my skills more often than not.”

He then patted the left side of his belt where a pouch and a small datachip reader was attached:

“There's a warrant for my arrest on a desk in the Senate Bureau of Intelligence due to me holding physical evidence of my work for the Syndicate. Past and current jobs, all filed here.”

A bait, if Anakin ever saw one…

“Why would you be stupid enough to keep those and put such a target on your back ?” he asked with a touch of scorn.

“Aside from making my value go high up every time that I dodge an arrest as I keep proving I’m more resourceful than the whole SBI ? Bait, leverage, insurance…Take your pick !”

“Sounds like a lot of unnecessary trouble to me…” Anakin said while turning back on toward the monitors.

He wasn’t sure what Veko was driving at. There was no news of Bane and enough time had passed. So he turned on the transmission again, waited for the written message confirming that Pala was seeing it all, then visibly straightened and rewinded some videos and zoomed in. Veko turned to him:

“Found something ?”

“Maybe…That man, right here, the Pantoran…I’ve seen him several times, on all the footage related to all of our three spies. He keeps showing up.”

Veko rolled his chair closer to him and watched as Anakin replayed some parts of the videos and framefreezed others.

“Look, here he’s just crossing paths with Lunmar, but Lunmar looks back towards him, just for a second. On this one, he dropped a bag under this bench and Ketsuka picked it up less than an hour later. And on this one, you can see him inside the apartment of Yekube.”

Veko leaned closer to the monitor to look at the frames Anakin was pointed at.

“You have good eyes !” he said, impressed.

“That man…he looks familiar, but I couldn’t say where I saw him before.”

“Probably in every Guild hubs you have stepped foot in ever since you arrived in Hutt Space,” Veko said with a sinister joy. “That’s Seyichi Chenwikyo, one of the most famous freedom fighters. He’s part of several anti-slavery organisations and has led a good number of successful operations to liberate slaves, distrub auctions, cut-offs of snatching routes…He has five different bounties on his head, the grand total of it not a small amount of credits.” 

“Well, him being here makes sense, then. He must be part of the operation. Perhaps he’s even behind the whole thing.”

“Did you see anything in Vasco’s place that might have pointed to him ?”

“I don’t know…He was packing datapads when I killed him, so maybe there was something on it connecting them. Blast, there was definitely something important enough on it for them to be Vasco’s first pick in his escape. But my job wasn’t to find out what Vasco was doing so I left them behind. No doubts they’re long gone now.”

Veko just nodded and started to modify the command on the monitor, his hands going so fast about it that Anakin had no time to read what he was typing, but as Seyichi’s face got screen locked, he knew that Veko had just launched a search for Seyichi inside all the footage they had using facial recognition, crisscrossing it with those of their three spies. Rapidly, many footage showing them together appeared on the screens. 

“No more doubts now,” Veko said triumphantly. “Now, let’s isolate the guy, see if we can establish a pattern and find similarities…”

Which went way faster than everything they did before, as the computer now knew exactly what it was looking for, extracting only Seyichi’s appearances and isolating the places he was most often caught on holocamera. Soon, six different locations were highlighted, and Pala sent him a message telling him to check the live feed around them. Knowing that Seyichi was in place around the factory to lure them in, Anakin yelled at the guards across the room:  

“Hey, do you have access to the live feed security holocameras outside of the close surroundings of the palace ?”

One of the guards replied in the affirmative and stood to come at their station. Once he was there, Veko pointed at their screens and asked:

“Show us those six places, please.”

They watched closely as passerby walked busy streets and industrial sectors remained unagitated. Anakin recognised the southern entrance of the factory on the bottom left monitor and kept his eyes locked on it. After about fifteen minutes, his voice broke the tense silence:

“There !”

Veko and the guard turned their heads as one, as Seyichi walked into the screen. He was speaking into his commlink and as he did, lines of message showed up inside Anakin’s visor: 

“ Bane called Grakkus to have people help him search the old ventilation system. They managed to arrive at a junxion we were supposed to take and we had to change the escape route for the workers, so the evacuation still isn’t over. You can’t delay. If you do, it will raise suspicions. We will make sure everyone is out by the time you arrive. ”

Well, poodoo…

Bane bringing more people in was unexpected and kind a bit out of character. But it was a logical move. The ventilation system was huge, and ran for klicks upon klicks. 

As Seyichi entered the factory, Veko said, satisfied:

“Well, seems like we have a target. Good, I was starting to want to shoot those monitors…Sounds promising: we will get both a lead and more credits !”

He gave Anakin’s shoulder a friendly shove, turned on the holotransimter, and Bane’s blue figure, head bowed to avoid the low ceiling, appeared.

“Cad, do you copy ?”

“Yeah, any news ? ‘Cause I'm getting sick of those tunnels.”

“Yes, we have news. We found evidence that our three spies were connected to Seyichi Chenwikyo.”

That stopped Bane dead in his tracks, and he sported an incredulous expression:

“Wait, the slaves’ white knight ?”

“Correct. We managed to find him. He’s in the industrial district, in a transparisteel factory. Where are you ?”

“I have no goddam idea !” Bane complained, and he turned to yell at someone behind him. “Hey, where are we now ?”

The answer was inaudible, but Bane repeated it:

“Somewhere between the eastern shipyards and the upper level of the industrial sector. Not too far from our guy then, I guess.”

“Wait, you have people with you ?” Veko asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I got lost, twice, before I understood that I wasn’t going to find my way easily in here. Called Grakkus, asked him for back-up who both knew the terrain and how to hold their own in a fight.”

“How many did he give you ?”

“Nine. We split up to cover more ground.”

“How long until you reach the coordinates I’m sending you ?”

It was the person behind Bane who answered again, and Anakin distinctly heard them say “twenty minutes, top”. 

“About the same time for us if we use a decent speeder and get a pass for non respect of traffic rules.”

“Let’s meet up there then. Seyichi is slippery though. Better call more backup to secure the outside of the factory. Make sure he cannot escape.”

“Good thinking. See you in twenty minutes then.”

Veko ended the call with Bane only to start a new one with none other than Grakkus himself:

“Sorry to bother you sir, but we found Seyichi Chenwikyo. We would like to borrow some of your people to ensure his capture.”

Anakin hadn’t miss the way Grakkus’ eyes lighted as he heard Seyichi’s name, proof once more of his reputation, and Anakin was more and more baffled by the fact that he’d never heard of Seyichi in his first life, which was a stark reminder than he hadn’t paid the slavery issue the attention he had promised he would.

“Of course,” Grakkus answered graciously. “I said I would give you any resources necessary. How many do you need ?”

“Well given the size of the building, and the abilities of the man…I would say fifteen, no less.”

“You’ll have twenty. Added to the men I already gave to Cad, you’ll be thirty-two. That should be enough.”

“Perfect, thank you, sire.”

As they boarded a private transport ship lent by Grakkus along with the twenty men ten minutes later, Anakin felt the heavy weight of worry inside his guts. Thirty-two was too much. If anything went wrong and confrontation ensued, the odds were no longer in the favor of the crews. And there were now too many people to avoid collateral. Anakin had hoped he would only have to get Bane or Veko caught in the explosion, but now there was no doubt that many more would be caught in it too, whether he wanted it or not. He’d have to get blood on his hand again, by the galleon, not by the drop, and it didn’t sit well with him. The crews knew that as well. Broadcasting as he was, they saw everything he saw, heard everything he heard. They had been crafty so far, so Anakin hoped they would keep adjusting as well as they had so far. 

Packed in the transport along with twenty-one others men and women checking their weapons, light illuminating their faces irregularly as they passed giant billboard and traffic lights, Anakin felt like a soldier again, waiting to be dropped off on the next battlefield and for the first time he had the very distinct knowledge that he was on the wrong side of the battle. He might be an undercover agent waiting to sabotage the enemy’s plan,  it still felt so incredibly wrong to sit there, waiting for the door to open on the slaves he was suppose to hunt down. He looked down at his hands, signed “done?” and waited for Pala’s reply. The simple “no” that appeared thighted his guts even more. Yes, blood was about to be spilled and he couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was direct the flow.

The door opened loudly, and everyone got out. Bane and some of his men were already waiting for them, something he didn’t fail to mention. 

“Did you see him leave the building ?” Anakin said instead of taking the bait.

“Nah,” Bane answered. “I posted a guy at each entry we could find, we maintained contact, and so far no move from the inside. Doesn’t mean he’s still there, though.” 

Anakin nodded and whistle loudly to get everyone’s attention, while he activated the holomap of the district he download before leaving the palace:

“Alright, this is how we are going to play this out. There are four exits on this level and two on the level below. I want two men on each, with blasters set on stun to catch our guy if he gets out by one of those exits. The others go inside. We split up in four groups of five and search all levels by two groups starting from both ends to meet at the middle. Always make sure to move so that the target will be cut off from the exits that go below, always lead him up. Two groups for the parts of the factory that are mostly offices and storage, two groups for the rest. These two groups be especially careful, this is a factory, not a park. If Seyichi is as clever as his reputation suggests, he’ll use his surroundings to his advantage, so better stay clear from the melting station and all the compactors. Stay in contact at all times and report everything you see. All clear ?”

They all looked at him with an expression that mixed surprise, awe and irritation. 

“We ain’t an army,” a Togruta said with snark.

“No, but know how to take orders,” Anakin said with a tone that came closer and closer from Vader’s with each word. “Before you took Grakkus’, here and now you’ll take mine. We have a mission and I firmly intend to see it through, successfully. So fail to follow said orders, and I will make sure that Grakkus knows that you are responsible, personally, for the mission’s failure. So unless anyone here has a better plan to capture a man that has proven himself skilled at evading all previous attempts and that Grakkus wants in his dungeons today, then you will do as I say. I don’t need your approbation, only your compliance.”

Bane scoffed and looked at him angrily but didn’t said a thing, and Veko actually backed him up:

“He’s right. So if anyone here isn’t on board with this, better they leave now.”

No one moved nor said a thing, they only all looked at each-other then at him, recognising him as someone they’d better nor cross.

“Let’s get moving then. Synchronize your commlink on channel T-37. Split up and keep me informed on everyone’s location once we’re inside.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the main entrance, taking both his blasters in his hands and getting the safety off. He heard the hurried footsteps of the twenty people behind him, and soon, Veko and Bane walked at each of his sides.

“I lead one group in the offices, Veko takes one in the factory per say, and so do you, Bogan,” Bane instructed.

“Fine by me,” Anakin said as he opened the door with a strong kick. As the panels flapped violently, the three hunters raised their weapons, but no one was sitting at the front desk. The place was empty and the back door was still wide open on the corridor leading to the offices. The hunters exchanged a look, then proceeded to walk inside, followed suit by their backup. All weapons were drawn, and Anakin walked to the end of the room, where a thirty centimeters thick transparisteel wall gave a perfect view over the main production space. It was cavernous, the other end of it invisible through the smokes and reddish lights of the numerous ponds of molten matter waiting to be transformed into transparisteel. The place looked hellish, but most of all perfectly empty. Bane was beside him and asked out loud:

“Where the hell are the workers ?”

A question to which Anakin got the answer as Pala messaged him the exact location of all the people who hadn’t made it out of the building yet, and even of those who were in the ventilation system but still close to the factory.

“Smells like a trap if you ask me…”Veko mumbled.

“Clearly,” Bane agreed. 

“But we cannot leave without being sure that Chenwikyo isn’t here,” Veko said.

Bane turned to him:

“You sure you want to stick around and find out what the man prepared as a welcoming party ? ‘Cause I’m not sure I do…”

“Your survival instinct is remarkable Bane,” Anakin said, “but how will you explain to Grakkus you quitted because you got the jibbies ?”

Bane gave him a murdering look.

“Bogan’s right,” Veko said firmly. “We keep going.”

As he said so, he gestured for his group to follow him as he approached the secured door leading to the production area. Anakin fell into step behind him, and so did his own group. As they opened the doors, Anakin heard Bane taking his group toward the offices. They crossed a large airlock that led to a heavy set of durasteel doors. Veko pressed the button opening them and the airlock soon got filled with a heat so incredible that Anakin felt it through his armor. As they moved along a platform leading to three different sets of stairs, Anakin felt like he was back on Mustafar. The heat, the light, the molten matter…A feeling of dread slowly settled inside him, and he couldn’t say if it was the Force warning him of something or his mind being unable to make the difference between then and now. 

With one look, Veko and him agreed on a path for each group. As Veko and his men went up, Anakin took his group down. While he was navigating between empty workstations and massive furnace’s doors, he spotted some of the bombs the crews had prepared, carefully hidden between other pressured bottles, invisible to those who weren’t looking for them. Just the few he saw were enough to turn the whole place into smoking ruins, so knowing there were more was both satisfying and terrifying.  Inside his helmet, voices informed him of everyone’s position, where they were going, and their growing mistrust in the quiet tranquility of the place, while text messages told him that the workers had all been evacuated and the only people remaining were members of the operation. When he read that they intended to put up a small fight to lend more credibility to the situation, Anakin wanted to protest vividly but couldn’t do so without betraying himself to the four people behind him, and he got the suspicion that the Blue Sun had precisely waited this moment so that he wouldn’t be able to do or say anything against it. And true to their words, soon blaster fire erupted in their commlink, followed by curses and moans of pain.

“Blast, this was a trap !”

“They’re on the catwalk !”

“Shoot them !”

“I’m hit ! Kriffing shit !”

“On your left !”

Chaos descended upon the factory and blaster bolts appeared through the smoke not far from Anakin and his group, missing them by a small margin. Those people weren’t soldiers, they were guns for hire, mercenaries and thugs, who had never known a real battle and didn’t have the discipline required to fight one. So they lost cohesion. Fired back while taking cover, yapping at each other. This was exactly what Anakin waited for. As they focused on their assailants, he slipped inside the smokes, rushing towards Seyichi’s location, walking up the narrow stairs two steps by two steps. The place was a maze and orienting oneself in there was made even harder by the blasters bolts and yells he could hear both inside and outside his helmet. At some point he arrived on a platform where two of Grakkus' men had pinned two freedom fighters while a third was lying on the floor, his forehead bleeding. Before any of them could spot him he swooped on Grakkus’ men and took them out in a series of strikes that left them unconscious. He then turned to the fighters, pointing at the bleeding one:

“Take him out of here. Use the corridor on the left after the stairs going down, there’s no one there and it leads to the north-west exit via the tunnels.”

They wasted no time, and each passed on arm of the bleeding man around their shoulder, supporting him as they move quickly to said stairs, only stopping once they were beside Anakin to said:

“Thank you !”

Anakin resumed his race, going up in the levels, walking above ponds of molten matter that moved like lava, following the quickest path to Seyichi’s position. But when he reached the platform by a wall he knew hid an entrance of the tunnels, he saw that Seyichi wasn’t alone. Makira and a dozen people were with him. By the look of it most were workers of the factory, who were entering the secret exit one by one, covered by some freedom-fighters, and he even spotted a child, that he recognized as the little girl who had been in the meeting room and had led the other children away from him. When they saw him, blasters got pointed in his direction in unisson, but Seyichi signaled the fighters to stand down. They did, but still eyed him warily. 

Anakin jogged to them and yelled:

“What are you still doing here ?! I thought the evacuation was over !”

“It was, but we had to turn back,” Seyichi explained. 

“Grakkus’ men, they caught up with us in the tunnels,” Makira said as she put her blaster back in her holster and grabbed the girl's shoulder gently, trying to sooth her as she trembled in fear. “We had to turn back before they could take us.”

“We came back here to go through another tunnel, away from them,” Seyichi continued.

“All of this wasn’t the plan !” Anakin barked. “There will be no proof of your death now. Only a bunch of actual corpses !”

“We didn’t expect them to catch us in the tunnels so fast, we had to adapt,” Seyichi replied, visibly moved by the whole situation. “But it will be enough.”

“It won’t ! Grakkus is relentless, and we convinced him that you are the head of the snake. If we don’t prove that we beheaded it, he will fear the serpent might strike again. He won’t stop the hunt, and you will all be in danger. You won’t be able to achieve anything !”

Just as he said so, the Force rang in a loud warning in his head. So he jumped forward, grabbing Makira and the girl to tackle them to the ground and flatten himself on them as he screamed:

“Everyone get down !”

Makira yelped something and the others barely had the time to do as he said as an explosion shook the factory so hard all the bolts around them winced in violent protest. The girl under him screamed in fear and a column of fire erupted not far from their position. The noise was deafening and metal pieces fell around them, shaken free by the shock wave from the levels above them. When the ground no longer shook and the column faded, Anakin thanked his helmet for the protection it provided to his ears, but the others around him weren’t so lucky. He lifted himself from Makira and the girl. The little one was crying and holding her ears and Makira was shaken.

“Is everyone alright ?” he asked loudly to cover the sound of the explosion’s aftermath.

Some shook their heads in confirmation, others stood up and helped the person next to them on their feet, but all of them struggled to stay stable and stood on shally legs. Makira grabbed his arm and said:

“I can’t hear a blasted thing…Just a high-pitched ringing…” 

Over the channel, he could hear the same complaints, the same questions, everyone checking if the person next to them was okay. From what he gathered, some loose blaster bolt had found his way to one of the bombs, and the freedom-fighters were retreating fast while their opponents were still shaken. On his far left, he could see fire start spreading, flames expanding in every direction like an infernal web. The sound of fire alarms rang loud above all the noise and sprinklers activated, pouring out a great amount of water. But the chain reaction had started,  and the Force rang in warning again.

“Cover your ears !” he screamed while doing the gesture, and those who heard and saw him were quick to obey. Another explosion shook the whole factory around them. This one was further away, but had damaged the integrity of the factory even more. 

Once it passed, Seyichi screamed to cover the sound of the alarms, the raging fires and the water:

“We need to get out of here !” 

Anakin nodded and helped Makira to her feet. She looked at him with a strange gaze while he grabbed the girl and put her in Makira’s arm.

“The place won’t last long now, you all need to leave as fast as you can,” he said to Seyichi. 

The workers confirmed it, knowing the factory well, so they urged everyone to enter the tunnels. Before she disappeared into it, the girl still in her arms, Makira turned to him and said a small “thank you”. As Seyichi was about to follow, Anakin grabbed him by the wrist and say:

“You can’t go now. We still have to fake your death.”

“How exactly do you plan to do that ? If we stay here, we’ll be blown apart !”

Luckily, another crazy idea had come to Anakin’s mind.

“Do you trust me ?” he asked Seyichi.

“Will you take it the wrong way if I say I’m not sure ?” the man replied in all seriousness.

“No, but if we want to find a way out of here, you’ll have to.”

Seyichi looked at him intently, brow furrowed, but the platform shook again. They were running out of time and he knew it.

“What’s the plan ?”

“I’ll record something to show Grakkus. I’ll shoot you…”

“I’m sorry you’ll what now ?!”

“You heard me…”

“A stunt shot won’t convince anyone.”

“Which is why I won’t use one.”

Seyichi’s expression said it all.

“You’ll make it as if you’re going to shoot me, and I’ll shoot you first. I’ll…catch the bolt before it kills you, it will be as if you are wearing armor. It will hurt a bit, and you’ll have to pretend to drop dead.”

“How in the high heavens are you going to do that ?!”

Well, it for sure would be tricky and require a great level of control and precision, but Anakin was fairly certain he could do it. His three mentors’ training had paid off after all. And he had to say it to Seyichi so the man would trust him with his life.

“By using the Force.”

Surprise expanded on Seyichi’s face like a ripple on water. Realization and comprehension soon followed. Then determination settled in.

“Alright. But you better not screw this up.”

“I won’t,” Anakin promised as he took a few steps back. “Wait for my signal.”

Anakin closed his eyes, and opened his mind to the Force, which rushed in, bringing for the ride all the fear, the anger, the panic, the pain of open wounds and dying breaths…He could feel the heat of the flames, the metal melting, the steam created by the water. Everything that existed and was happening in this place echoed inside Anakin and he used all of Bendu’s teaching to sort it all, filter it and shut down all he didn’t need. In the end, all that remained was Seyichi and his own blaster. So he triggered the recording as he signaled Seyichi.

It all happened fast, Seyichi raising his blaster like he truly aimed to kill him, Anakin reacting before the bolt fired, sending his own toward the Pantoran. In this instant, nothing existed aside from the bolt. Anakin knew and felt its speed, its heat, its trajectory. So the second before it impacted on Seyichi’s chest, he created a Force barrier, to stop and diffuse the bolt’s energy, in the microscopic space separating bolt and flesh. It crashed into the barrier at full speed, sending Seyichi to the ground. Anakin cut the recording then, and went quickly to Seyichi. Sprawled on the floor, with a slight burn mark on his chest, the man groaned painfully:

“You said it would hurt a bit ,” he complained, trying to catch his breath. “A bit ! Not a shitload !”

“But it’s convincing,” Anakin said with a smile in his voice as he gave a hand to Seyichi to stand up. The man staggered and gripped Anakin’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Will you be able to walk ?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Shit…” he massaged his chest once more, but then turned to the tunnel. Before he disappeared inside, he turned and said:

“We will send you the new meeting location’s coordinates.”

Then he was gone. But the Force was still ringing bells in his ears, and he could no longer tell if it came from the fact that the place was blowing up and melting around him, or if a more precise threat was closing on him. 

“Impressive !” said a voice at the other end of the platform. 

And in that moment, Anakin wished he could have felt the warnings more precisely, as Veko stepped out of the black smoke, a blaster pointed at the weak point between Anakin’s helmet and his shoulder. 

“How long have you been lurking there ?” Anakin asked evenly, hiding how his heart had just fallen inside his chest at the sight of the Skakoan. 

“Long enough,” Veko replied with another smile that twisted his face into something even more hideous. 

No point for games then. With a gesture of his fingers, he sent Veko’s blaster over the railings. Veko’s eyes followed it as it pummeled down, then bursted into laughter. Anakin watched him, baffled, as the man was literally holding his ribs. 

“You’re good,” Veko said as he regained composure too quickly for Anakin’s taste. “You are really good, I have to admit it. You know, if I hadn’t caught on to this little stunt right there, you would have me convinced that you actually aren’t Anakin Skywalker.”

Shit…He had been so focused on Bane, so convinced that he should watch out for the man he knew had allied with Sidious in the past that he’d failed completely to consider that his former master had more than one minion to send after him.

“You work for Sidious ?” he asked.

“As many do, and as the whole galaxy will soon,” Veko said, and his tone was so close to the one used by some of the most fanatical members of the Empire Anakin shivered. “My master has been looking for you for a while now.”

As Anakin snickered to this, Veko’s expression seemed a bit confused.

“I bet he did,” Anakin said, and Veko betrayed himself with a twitch of his eye, revealing that Sidous’s search for him wasn’t supposed to be a known factor. “How did he find me here ?”

“Not easily, that’s for sure. You’ve been careful. And he doesn’t know for sure that Bogan Ashla is Anakin Skywalker, he only suspects. That’s why he sent me here. To assess your true identity. And bravo to you, you almost had me fooled.”

“So this work for Grakkus, was it all a charade ?” Anakin asked, trying to buy time to build a plan.

“I could ask the same to you, Jedi,” Veko replied with humor. “But I wonder, what can possibly be important enough here to make you leave the battlefield, Hero With No Fear ? Freeing slaves ? No, slaves aren’t important enough.”

“To you, perhaps,” Anakin snarled between his teeth, unable to hold back and he understood his mistake in showing he cared as Veko’s turned into a grimly satisfied mess.

“Ah yes, the former slave turned Jedi hero. Trying to save more like yourself ? Well you have a shitty way to go about it ! I mean, first you kill and behead Sergei Vasco, a devoted freedom-fighter and by all accounts a good man. Then you let one of your spy get tortured and forced to kill himself. And now you brought up this whole situation where many of your, hum, people, got killed for…”

Veko started to laugh again and a pack of heavy stones was making its way in Anakin’s inside.

“If you look at it, so far you have killed more of them than you saved so whose side are you really on ? And even if you truly are trying to help them, considering your track record, shouldn’t you stop trying ?”

Every word Veko said punched a whole inside Anakin’s lungs and he found himself having trouble breathing, Vader’s respirator’s ghost filling his ears.

“What kind of savior leaves a bigger trail of bodies than a trail of saved lives ?”

“Silence !” he snarled again.

“Oh, it seems I struck a nerve,” Veko carried on, vicious and merciless. “But I’m sure you’re right, after all, better waste your time here than fighting your war. And by the way, how many people out there died while you were failing here ? How many people are dead because you chose not to fight for them ?”

“What do you want ?” Anakin snapped. 

“I want what my master wants,” Veko said as if it was obvious. “I want you, out of the game.”

“Sidious doesn’t want me out of the game, he wants me on his side of the board,” Anakin chuckled and was satisfied that it unsettled Veko again. 

“You know too much…” Veko mumbled. “You shouldn’t know this much. How did you find out ? No, it doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me, that's all. With me, to my master.”

So, he wanted Anakin alive, that was a start. Anakin prepared a snarky reply, but new explosions shook the factory again, and Veko used Anakin’s split second of inattention to jump on him, his fist almost connecting with Anakin’s helmet, giving him the chance to see that Veko hadn’t come at him bare handed. He had a pair of stun knuckles sparking with electricity at a high enough voltage to go through his armor’s weak points. Anakin countered the first blow, but soon realized that Veko was very good at hand to hand combat and fast, which Anakin had not expected. Skakoan in general weren’t the best close-combat fighters due to their pressured suit and its weight. But Veko had obviously trained to go past that. He was fast, precise, hit true and hard and left Anakin no time to do anything but play defense. He had no time to reach for his blasters. As one of Veko’s fists came a little too close to a weak point, Anakin Force-pushed him away. Veko’s back hit the wall behind him, not a meter away from Anakin, but it was enough of a respite for him to focus and allow his second sight to settle in, showing him Veko’s next move, where the blow would hit, and how to move from defense to attack. When Veko attacked again, Anakin was prepared and the game changed quickly. Veko soon found himself on the defense, while Anakin rained blow upon blow on him. As his prosthetic hand connected to Veko’s left brow and blood flowed down his face, another explosion rocked their platform, this time taking pieces of it away. Gone were the railing and the stairs leading to the lower levels. Gone were Anakin and Veko’s balance. The two adversaries fell on their knees but recovered at the same time. As they launched at each other once more, Veko spat:

“How long do you think it will take for Sidious to dispose of your precious little Senator while you're gone ?”

That simple taunt got to Anakin more than he’d like, and definitely more than it should have, leaving him frozen for one second too long and Veko’s fist came brutally down on Anakin’s shoulder’s weak point. The pain blinded him for a moment and he staggered a few steps, getting closer to the now railingless edge of the platform, then fell on his knees once more, trying to catch his breath. The stun knuckles should have knocked him down flat, yet he was still awake, painfully so, his vision blurred, his sense of balance completely thrown off even though he was on all four, his lungs refusing to take on air. 

“You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that,” Veko said as he calmly walked toward Anakin, adjusting his stun knuckles. “That blow would have taken a Wookie out. Guess I’ll have to go at it again.”

Anakin managed to go back to his feet as Veko raised his fist once more. He let the Force take over and direct his movements, parrying a few blows in the process, but he had lost all his speed, all his dexterity. The effect of the stun knuckles might be lesser than the ones intended but it affected him all the same, his mind clouded and barely able to stay focused. And Veko was growing visibly enraged at Anakin’s inability to stay down. With one furious yell, Veko finally connected another blow, straight to the weak point on Anakin’s side. Pain bloomed again, spreading fast and cutting straight at his concentration. A part of his mind marveled at the fact that yet again, he was still awake. But he staggered back once more, and there was no railing to grab. Anakin saw Veko’s face twist into a mix of fear and victory when he felt the ground disappear underneath his feet as he fell from the platform. His mind was too blurred by the two blows to register what was happening, he didn’t register the lower levels flying past him as his body got closer and closer to the ground. He didn’t realize he needed to cushion his fall with the Force. 

The impact nearly took him out for good. He landed flat on his back, his head rebouncing violently against the concrete floor, knocking all of the air he’d painfully managed to gather within his lungs. The pain was so strange, deep and reverberating within each one of his bones but not blinding, more hampering than madening. But he couldn’t breathe. The armor and the helmet might have just saved his life, but he couldn’t kriffin’ breathe ! He tried. Desperately. Only to have his throat burn and ache and his lungs refuse to cooperate. Each of his failed breath echoed within his helmet harsher and harsher and soon Vader’s respirator was all he could hear, deafening him to any other sound, even his own wretched whimpers. The world around his visor was red. Red like the fires taking the factory down, red like the molten material set free by the explosions, red like the lenses of Vader’s helmet.

His heart sped up until it felt like it was trying to rip his ribcage and break free from his body, his lungs still refusing to fill themselves. The shock of the fall was now fading in favor of a full blown panic attack. He tried to move his arms but they were so heavy. He fumbled desperately with his helmet, engulfed even deeper inside Vader’s ghost with each failed attempt at removing the thing until he finally got it right and threw the blast helmet to his left, and found the strength to roll on his stomach, supporting himself on his elbows. Free from the constraints of the helmet, Anakin took deep breaths. He counted five in, five out. Felt his heart slow down and the pain receded. His vision cleared, no longer confined and restricted by the visor, but his nose was assaulted by the smell of ashes, red hot metal and burning chemicals, which made him cough, close to nausea. A very loud, crushing sound filled the space, bathed in the typical orange light of molten lava and metal. Pushing himself on his feet, he looked around him. On his left, a stair toward a darkened corridor. On his right, at floor’s level, a room-long machinery, with a large slide of rocks falling inside massive steamrollers, the source of the loud crushing sound, and behind it a highly elevated temperature pool where the crushed rocks were melted down. Looking up, Anakin realized he’d fallen multiple levels, a good fifty meters fall. And all he felt was a slight compression in his chest and some dizziness. After two blows by stun knuckles. He should be dead…

“Damn right you should be,” Veko said as descended into the open space thanks to small propulsors under his shoes. 

Anakin turned to him with a surprised face, but the simple movement made the room spin and he realized he was on his knees again, without noticing he’d fallen.

“Oh, don’t be so stunned, it was written all over your face,” Veko waved away as he landed. “And by the look of you, you’re alive but not really in good shape.”

Anakin could do nothing but watch the blurred silhouette of Veko get closer and crouch in front of him, his body not really responding.

“Better for me of course, won’t put up a fight when I bring you to Lord Sidious then. I can’t wait to see the look on Dooku’s face ! He’s been searching for you for months and I got to you in two days.”

Veko laughed heartily, and Anakin could think of nothing better to say than:

“Bite me !”

He might not be at the top of his game right now, but he’d survived Sidious sick and twisted little tests so many times, he wasn’t afraid of one more. His eyes were glaring daggers, and it seemed to be more impressive than he thought it to be, because Veko straightened up and took a step back, worry plain on his face. 

“I just don’t understand…what you gain in it,” he managed to say.

Veko seemed truly surprised at the question.

“Well, credits of course,” he answered honestly. “Sidious pays very well. But more importantly…”

Veko sighed and suddenly seemed more vulnerable than ever and yet more fanatical at the same time.

“Republic, Separatists…it’s all the same. I used to not give a blast about anyone in power and how they wielded it. But Sidious is different…He dragged me from the gutter after your precious Republic took everything from me. He has a brain between his two ears, a vision for this galaxy, he shared it with me, showed me its greatness. He can and will make something out of the wretched galaxy. Something better, where someone like me can have more. Be more.”

“Yes, I totally see you befriending Coruscant high society,” Anakin mocked. “You’ll perfectly fit with the parlor’s curtains and the lastest art sculptures.”

“Don’t give me poodoo like this,” Veko threatened, his tone now angry and vengeful. “I know what I look like. A Jedi gave me this ! And Sidious promised me revenge. Your all mightier-than-anyone-else lot ! You’ll all burn with your temple ! All of your faces will melt like mine !”

Veko bent down to strike at Anakin again, but he’d regain enough strength and focus to roll away. Veko followed, managed to grab Anakin by the collar and raise him to his feet while going for another punch. Anakin crashed his knee in Veko’s stomach, making the Skakoan release him and take a step back. In one same movement, they both drew their blaster and stilled, both aiming for the other’s head. 

“So, who’ll be the fastest ? In your condition, I wouldn’t bet on you,” Veko taunted. “But sure, go ahead. What will it accomplish ? You’ll go back out there and…what ? Be responsible for more deaths ? A little more blood on your hands from the people you’re supposed to protect ? Time to accept the facts, Hero ! You’re no savior ! You’re Death incarnated !”

The words shouldn’t get to him. Anakin knew he should not let the words get to him. Veko knew they did and that was why he used them. But they hit their mark anyway. The blaster in Anakin’s hand was shaking as he tried to push past those words, but Sergei and Lonmar’s faces were replacing Veko’s, staring back at him and his inability to do anything good without bloodying his hands first. His breath caught and Veko smiled, his finger tightening on the trigger. The sound of a shot was swallowed by the sound of the steamrollers, and Anakin waited for the pain, only to see Veko’s blaster fall on the ground, the man hissing in pain as he pressed his shot hand against his chest, turning toward the corridor, from which Yuve, both blasters raised, appeared, looking nothing but absolutely furious. Before Veko could draw another weapon, she shot more bolts, making Veko take a step back each time. Anakin noticed that she was only shooting his armor and wondered why. He understood at the same time as Veko did. As the Skakoan stood on the edge of the floor, his back to the massive steamrollers. He looked at Yuve in fear and opened his mouth, certainly to plead for his life, but there was no mercy in Yuve’s eyes:

“Do me a favor and shut the kriff up !” she said coldly as she shot two more bolts, one in each shoulder, and Veko fell. In a second of pure instinct, Anakin reached his hand. In that fraction of second, Veko seemed to think that Anakin would save him, call to the Force to prevent his fall but the only thing that Anakin called to him was the small pouch that Veko had shown him earlier in the day and that was supposed to contain all of his mission’s data. When Veko realized there would be no salvation from Anakin, he let out a scream of pure terror that was soon replace by a long wail of agony as his bones were rushed, his flesh torn and spread, his suit turning into scythe shredding him appart. The sounds of Veko’s screeches and dismantled body ceased rapidly. Yuve had walked to the edge and watched Veko’s end and Anakin forced himself on his feet and walked to Yuve’s side. He casted a glance at the steamrollers, and saw two of them with large trails of blood and body fluids on them. Definitely not a way to go…

“How long were you there ?” Anakin asked weakly.

“Few minutes,” was her reply, as she kept her eyes on the steamrollers.

Anakin remained silent as he understood that she could have intervened much sooner.

“You could have let him kill me,” Anakin stated, as a matter of fact.

“I could have, yes !” she responded honestly. But then she turned to him and looked him in the eyes:

“But I chose not to.”

“Why ? It could have been your revenge. For Sergei.”

“It could have. But what would it have wrought, really ? You are more useful to us, to the slaves, alive. In the end, it’s what matters the most now. Plus, you made a deal with us !”

She grabbed him by the collar violently and brought his face close to hers: 

“You don’t get to die before you fulfill your end !”

Anakin looked at her, baffled, and couldn’t tell if she was speaking out of respect, fury, resignation or affection. And he would have to ask her later, as new explosions shook the factory.

“This place is done for,” she said “We have to leave, fast. Here, let me help you.”

She moved to put herself under his arm and help him walk, but he refused:

“I’m fine, and we’ll have to go separate ways.”

“Fine, my ass ! You can’t be fine after such a fall. I saw you ! It was five levels, and a good fifty meters high, at least. You shouldn’t even be conscious right now !”

“Yet I am. I swear, I’ll be fine. But now we really need to leave !”

She looked at him as if he was crazy then scoffed. She took long strides and grabbed his helmet on the floor. He took it from her, put it back on with shaky hands, and the sound of higher levels coming down crashing made them run. At the first crossroad, Yuve went left when he went right. She casted him a look that clearly meant “see you soon, moron” and disappeared inside a wall. Anakin rushed for the exit. 

The factory was coming down around him and he had to slalom between falling debris, dead corpses and flames two times taller than him. He had no idea where to run, the smoke now so thick and black visibility without a tactical helmet would be impossible, so he trusted the Force completely to get him out, fire and explosions on his tail. He finally caught sight of the door through which they came, another one of Grakkus’ men stumbling in its direction, coughing hard enough to break ribs. Anakin helped him to the welcome desk until another blast blew the transparisteel window, the force of it flattening them on the ground as shards were propelled all around the room. They rebounded on Anakin’s armor, but the man he was helping got a shard the size of his hand right between the shoulders blades and dropped dead beside Anakin. Getting back on his feet, Anakin ran ever harder on the few meters separating him from the exit, as he could see the street and those who had already fled making large gestures telling him to quicken the pace. He finally got out but didn’t stop running, trying to put as much distance between him and the soon to be blown sky-high factory. 

“Take cover !” he screamed as the Force urged him to escape the danger.

He saw all of the survivors dive behind the nearest solid object strong enough to shield them and all he could do was flatten himself on the ground as the factory turned into a volcano and erupted in fire and lava with the sound of a blowing star destroyer, shaking the entire district. Anakin crawled and tried to get behind the closest wall. He was surprised when Cad Bane’s hand entered his field of vision to grab his and drag him to safety. He thanked him with a nod, as they sat on the ground, side by side, debris of the factory raining down, some big enough to squash one of the speeders parked nearby. They waited for the respite without a word, then got out of their shelter. Only then did Anakin truly see the extent of the damages. A gapping and flaming hole now stood in place of the factory, the blast had been so powerful it had broken all transparisteel panels on the street and surely even further away, and the roof of the district’s level was invisible behind the columns of black smoke rising from the hole.

“Well…shit !” Bane said as he looked around.

“Thanks for the help,” Anakin said with reluctance. 

“What about your no touchy rule ?”

“Well, when one’s life is on the line…”

“Friends after all, hey,” Bane chuckled. 

More of the survivors were coming towards them, as the street started to be filled with people working in the neighboring factories who had left their post to see what had caused such an earthquake, while sirens began to run all over the district. 

“Where’s Veko ?” Bane asked. “Have you seen him ?”

“No,” Anakin lied easily. “Maybe he got out before us.”

“Let's hope so…Dank farrik…”

“Well, at least Seyichi’s done for,” Anakin replied.

“Can’t be sure. Maybe he escaped the explosion.”

“Well, it would have been hard for him to do so after I shot him square in the chest…”

Bane turned to look at him, brows raised:

“You got him ?!”

Anakin pressed a button on his belt, and the short footage of him shooting Seyichi was displayed by his visor. Bane hummed his approval then brought his commlink to his lips and called:

“Veko, do you copy ?”

Nothing but static replied, and Anakin didn’t moved while Bane tried again:

“Veko ? Veko, dammit, answer !”

As the commlink remained silent, Bane hailed the survivors nearby:

“Hey, you lot ! Did any of you see Veko get out ?”

They all shook their heads and said they hadn’t, except for one who said she’d seen him go deeper inside the factory before she turned tail and ran.

“Well…” Anakin said, in a matter-of-fact tone. “He’s not answering and no one saw him leave. He’s dead.”

“Most probably,” Bane replied, seemingly unmoved. “A shame. He was a good hunter. But hey, one share less means more for us right !”

It was Anakin's turn to hum. As he let his gaze glance over the scene before him, people running around, panicked and shocked workers, firefighters that just arrived along with security and meddroids, Anakin felt strangely detached from the ambient chaos. 

“Let’s go,” he simply said. “Time to report to Grakkus.”

***

The audience room was more crowded than Anakin had ever seen it before. He was staying quiet and still by Bane’s side while the Duros retelled their “adventures” as he’d called them. The assembly was captivated by Bane’s words, paying no mind to him for the time being and that was all the better as he was battling against the powerful wave of exhaustion that had overtaken him ever since he’d stepped in the palace.  He felt sluggish and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the too bright light, making his vision blurry. A growing headache was pulsing against his temples and he found it difficult to concentrate on Bane’s voice. The day had been long and harrowing, and all he wanted was to go back to the New Dawn , lock the ship and sleep for at least a day. But Bane had just stopped talking and turned to him, Grakkus’ gaze now piercing through him and he knew he had to explain his side of the story. So he did it, as concisely as possible, without the flair he used to resort to for Grakkus’ enjoyment. A fact not lost on the Hutt as the slug kept looking at him while stroking his massive chin pensively. 

“So, it is done then ?” the Hutt asked.

Once more, Anakin played the footage he’d recorded with Seyichi. It was convincing. Enough to garner exclamations of approbation all around the hall. Grakkus looked at it with a satisfied smile and clapped his hands together in a mockery of applause.

“Well done ! And all it took you was less than two days,” Grakkus congratulated them. “Fine work, the three of you. But only two stand here. Where is Veko ?”

“Blown up, most likely,” Anakin replied, uncarring.

“No one saw him get out of the factory, and one of your people even confirms having seen him go deeper inside of toward the exit,” Bane added. “No one has seen him since, so yes, he’s definitely dead.”

“Shame,” Grakkus said in a contemplative tone. “He was a fine hunter…But with Seyichi dead, those freedom-fighters shouldn’t be a problem anymore. They won’t dare try anything again after how they’ve been dealt with today. And if they do, well I’ll just have to send you both to remind them of the consequences of defying me.”

“Do you consider the job done, then ?” Anakin asked, eager to leave.

Grakkus didn’t reply straight away and Bane gave him a sideway look. Anakin hoped he wasn’t giving himself away, but the more he stood there, the less he could concentrate. 

“Yes, it is done,” Grakkus said at last. “I will divide Veko’s share between the two of you. You are dismissed.”

Anakin bowed and turned on his heels without too much hurry but didn’t stop to talk to anyone. He knew he would be called again soon, as Grakkus was now more taken with the joy of having the freedom-fighters gone to truly consider the factory’s explosion and the damages done, material and economical. The faster he walked, the more chances he had to avoid the particular discussion. He wasn’t fast enough to lose Bane, though. 

“Bogan !” the Duros called.

“What is it ?” he asked without turning back.

“What’s the rush ?”

“Running away from explosions tends to give me a headache and a great need for strong alcohol,” Anakin lied.

Bane laughed as he came to stand beside him:

“Well, alcohol won’t do any good to this headache, you know.”

“We all have our homemade remedies, don’t we ? Was there anything more you wanted from me ?”

To his surprise, Bane simply extended his hand and said:

“You’re a freakin’ pain in the ass, but at least working with you is interesting,” Bane said. “Today was funnier than anticipated.”

Anakin looked at Bane’s hand, and accepted the probably fake peace offering by shaking it:

“Glad to have entertained you. Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go drown myself in the finest scotch I can buy. Until next time.”

He took his leave for good, feeling Bane’s gaze on his nape. He hailed a public speeder and sat heavily on the back seat while the droid drove him to his destination. Once he arrived at one of the many caches he’d dispatched all around Nar Shaddaa, he changed clothes, kept his face hidden under half-mask and low hood, then blended in with the crowd, hailed another transport and finally arrived at the Promenade. He couldn’t believe the crews had managed to organize a hideout in the most crowded place of the moon. It was both very risky and perfect. He found the place without effort, just next door to a high class cantina. A flight of stairs led him to a nice room with a stunning view on the highest level of Nar Shaddaa, soft carpeting, some greenery and expensive looking furniture and sofas, on which the crews’ leaders were all gathered. All turned their heads as he entered, and Pala’s soft smile was a welcome sight. But before he could say a word, a small figure threw itself at him, knocking him a bit off balance and circled his middle with its tiny arms. The little girl looked up at him with a big smile and Anakin fought with every fiber of his being to not run away in the other direction. So he just stood there, arms raised without knowing what to do with them and holding his breath as the girl said:

“You made it out ! We were worried, you know ! It’s mean to make us worry !”

“I…hum…I was…” Anakin tried and failed miserably, still terrified that the girl would liquify if he even put a finger on her.

But Makira came to his rescue and untangled her from him:

“Let him breathe, Kyome. And now that you know he’s fine, time to go to bed.”

“But I…” the girl started to argue

“No buts !” Makira countered straight away. “Bed. Now.”

Kyome pouted but let go of Anakin, waved everyone goodbye and left the room through a door that led to more stairs. As she disappeared, Anakin regained some of his cognitive functions.

“Is she family to you ?” he asked Makira, having noticed they shared the same green eyes, the same shape of face and the same pout.

“My grand-daughter,” Makira confirmed. “She was a babe when we managed to flee from our masters. Many died that day, including my son and daughter-in-law. Kyome is all I have left. Her and the fight ! I shouldn’t take her everywhere I go, but…”

“It’s beyond your strength to leave her behind,” Anakin completed. “I understand, believe me.”

 He walked towards the couches and sat between Tarek and Ramhad. Tarek patted his shoulder and gave him a fond smile, happy to see him safe. 

“How did you manage to get this place ?” Anakin asked. “It’s very…”

“Expensive and open ?” Seyichi asked with a smirk. “The head of security of the cantina downstairs is an old friend. Saved his butt a couple of times. And even if he makes plenty of money here, he doesn’t have a lot of sympathy for the Hutts. We can trust him. This place is safe, and fully equipped with everything we might need. But yes, it’s more risky and complicated to access, so we’ll have to be careful.”

“Did they believe it ?” Zee-Mar asked, changing the subject. “The whole subterfuge. Are they still hunting us down ?”

“No,” Anakin said. “Grakkus considers the matter closed.”

A sigh of relief escaped many lips. 

“But it went sideways,” Anakin said more harshly. “You didn’t warn me about the ambush, about the lingering fighters !”

“We feared that suspicion might fall on you if we followed the plan,” Ramhad explained. “You are an asset we can’t lose.”

“It went south,” Anakin rebuffed. “Every time there’s a fight, you have to expect something will go wrong. That loose bolt that detonated the first bomb was a risk you should have seen coming.”

“None of us is as battle-hardened as you, it seems,” Ris’Loe said.

“Which is why you should…” Anakin said, his voice starting to rise, and he closed his mouth as soon as he realized. He took a deep breath, released some of his frustration in the Force and accepted that they did what they thought was best. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I should not yell at you like that.”

They accepted the apology and Makira said:

“So…the Force, right ? Are you a Jedi ?”

Anakin looked at Seyichi who just shrugged:

“I had to explain to them what happened.”

He then looked at the Blue Sun ’s crew. Their faces said it all. They knew Anakin was a valuable asset so they would make sure his cover stayed unbroken, so better be straight. Anakin sighed, not liking much the idea of other people knowing who he was, but still lowered his mask and removed his hood. Seyichi and Makira recognized him instantly, as their eyes grew wide, but Zee-Mar and Ris’Loe seemed more oblivious.

“Okay, so judging by those two’s reactions, I’d guess you’re not just anybody,” Ramhad said. “And I have to say, your face looks familiar.”

“It’s because you often see it on the HoloNet,” Makira replied. “It’s Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general and hero of the Republic.”

The name did ring a bell for Ramhad, who turned brusquely to him to stare at him.

“Yeah, I’m famous,” Anakin said with a tired voice, resting his elbow on the backrest of the chair to hold his head. "Hurray me…”

Pala looked at him then, narrowed her eyes and said:

“You look like poodoo…”

“Well thanks…I’m fine though. Just tired.”

“The fine bullshit again…” Yuve lamented. “He just made a beautiful fifty meter fall earlier today, but don’t worry he’s fine.”

She said the last word making quotation marks with her fingers.

“You what ?” Pala said, suddenly very worried.

“Let's worry about our next move more instead,” Anakin pleaded. “We should be free of the scrutiny now so we can start the real work. And I need to go through the data I took from Veko.”

“Why is that ?” Zee-Mar asked.

“Well he worked for a lot of influential people,” Seyichi said as he stood and started pacing behind his chair. “It can’t hurt to see what he had his hands into.”

“And of course, I don’t need to tell you to keep my true identity as secret as possible,” Anakin reminded them. “I already have enough people on my tail…”

“Don’t worry,” Ris’Loe said. “We kinda know how to keep a secret, you know.”

“And we should take a break for the night,” Tarek suggested. “It’s been a really long day, for all of us. We should rest if we want to be able to think clearly.”

“Can Bog…I mean Anakin…” Seyichi started.

“Keep calling me by my alias,” Anakin cut. “We never know when the walls might have ears.”

“Alright. Before you leave, can you share the data you took from Veko ? If we all go over them, we might find something the others might have missed.”

“Sure,” Anakin said. 

He stood up to go to the holotable and transfer the data but, as soon as he went from sitting to standing position, black spots started dancing before his eyes and the room spinned wildy, blurred and upside down. A powerful wave of nausea turned his stomach and his hand searched franzily for the backrest of the chair for support. He found none, and the concerned voices of the others came muffled to his ears. He tried to stay on his feet but his legs gave way under him without his consent and as his vision blurred into an homogenous black streak, he felt someone catching him before he hit the ground, voices calling what sounded like his name. Then nothing.

***

“So ?” Sidious’ holo-image asked with little patience. “Is Skywalker hiding behind Bogan Ashla’s helmet ?”

“I honestly have no clue,” Cad Bane replied, his legs crossed on the dashboard of his ship, elbow resting nonchalantly on the pilot’s chair’s armrest. “I don’t really know Skywalker all that much, but from what I’ve heard of him, Bogan doesn’t fit the profile. Sure, he is definitely someone who is used to giving orders and to be obeyed, he has a military mind and he’s cunning, a good strategist. But Skywalker sounds like a risk it all to save the widow and the orphan kinda guy. Bogan isn’t wearing his heart on his sleeve like this. He beheaded a freedom-fighter and shot another square in the chest. His voice might be a bit modified by his helmet, it’s still cold.”

“So you do think they are two very different persons ?” Sidious wondered.

“I don’t know, boss…” Bane said as he turned the past days in his head. “He wasn’t that cold when the spy killed himself. I have no idea what he did once we were inside the factory, and that footage he has of Seyichi’s death is really short…I don’t know if it has anything to do with Skywalker, but there’s no doubt that there’s something about him !”

“Would you care to be more precise ?” Sidious asked, patience growing ever thinner. 

“I don’t trust a guy who appears out of nowhere with such a high array of skills, to begin with. And I’m eighty percent sure he killed Veko ! I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I’d bet my best shooting hand on that. He looked like he didn’t care about Veko’s death, but he wasn’t willing to breach the subject either. And he was the last one to get out of the factory, even though the bulk of the fight was long done. So he must have been deep inside the factory, and it’s unlikely he didn’t see Veko on his way out, especially considering there were not many safe places left to run on. Perhaps Bogan works with the freedom-fighters and Veko found out, so he killed him…”

“Didn’t you say that Bogan Ashla beheaded one of the freedom-fighters ?” Sidious asked. “Would it be counterproductive if he was working with them ?”

“Like I said, I don’t know !” Bane exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air with frustration. “I need to spend more time with him, to have Grakkus make us team up again. In any case, if he turns out to be Skywalker, what do you want me to do ?”

“If he is, then he has already come deeper down the road I mapped out for him,” Sidious replied. “Make sure he keeps going that way. As any Jedi, Skywalker has a strong set of beliefs and moral compass. Keep challenging them. He seems willing enough to compromise on those beliefs and let his moral compass shift, if need be. Make sure that this need is required as often as you can. Make those compromises as hard as you can. I want him to question everything he was ever taught !”

“And if he is nothing more than Bogan Ashla ?”

“Then he might prove to be a valuable asset to have on our side,” Sidious said with a dark smile. 

“But if he truly is working with the freedom-fighters ? In this case what do I do if he is not Skywalker ? And if he is ?”

“If he is not Skywalker, it matters little. It would be very unlikely that they succeed in their plans, and even if they did, the freedom-fighters have never made much of a difference before ! I will exploit any outcome to my advantage. But if he is indeed Skywalker…”

Bane felt a drop of cold sweat run along his spine at the sight of Sidious’ malevolent grin. Sometimes, this grin got even to him.

“If he is, let him do whatever he wants. Keep him under close watch. And when he thinks he has won, when he thinks he is about to free those slaves, crush his hopes ! Break his dreams ! Make his victory an illusion ! Wait until what he has worked so hard for, the lives and freedom of those slaves he seems to care about, is within his reach, then take it all away.”

Cruel, Bane thought. Ruthless. He liked it ! He wished Bogan Ashla was Anakin Skywalker, because he was going to enjoy it.

***

Consciousness came back to Anakin strangely. He couldn’t hear, nor see, nor feel anything at first. All he knew was that he was awake. Or at least his mind was, his senses were slower on the uptake. He felt first. The liquid cold enveloping him easing the ache he felt all over his body, against his armpits, his back and his chest the stiff fabric of straps holding him in place, in his mouth the respirator through which air was pulsated in and out of his lungs. Once he realized he wasn’t breathing on his own, Anakin became aware of the muffled sound of his artificial breath, mechanical and stark. Steady and unrelenting. Muffled by the bacta in which he was submerged. That simple knowledge triggered spasms he couldn’t control. His skin started to itch everywhere and his muscles were twitching but refused to respond, he couldn’t feel his arms and legs. Blind panic was quickly seizing him and he refused to open his eyes.

He was back in his bacta tank. 

It was all a dream !

A terrible, wonderful dream, and now he had woken up. 

He had had his salvation in the palm of his hands, a way to fix his mistakes and it had all been a lie ! He had never gone back in time, right ?! It had been one of Sidious' tests again, one he had failed like none other ! He had failed, had been weak, believing he could escape his fate, and now he would have to face Sidious and pay the price of this failure.

His heart rate sped up fast and he was trashing inside his tank, against his restraints and against the cruel farce that it all had been.

He never escaped, neither Sidious’ grasp nor Vader’s armor. It was all an illusion, the cruelest of all illusion. 

He finally opened his eyes as pure, unaltered fury awoke inside of him, litting fire to every atom of his body. He could see blurred figures moving around outside of the bacta tank, he could feel their fear and their confusion, and fed upon it. How many times would Sidious take everything away from him ? How many times would he be stupid enough to believe he could outplay his master ? The Dark Side always wins, he should know this by now ! Sidious wanted him drown inside himself and subdue, but this time he would give him something else entirely. 

Fighting the respirator, Anakin then emptied his lungs in a scream of rage and defiance that reverberated in the Force unfiltered and tore the straps apart and shattered the tank. The bacta spilled in every direction as pieces of the tank flew around the room. Anakin heard voices scream in fear and surprise. The light was much brighter here than it used to be in the healing chambers inside his fortress, and Anakin blinked repeatedly as he ripped the respirator away from him as he lay on his back. 

And the fact that he had hands struck him at the same time as someone called out his name.

“Anakin !” a woman's voice shouted.

Anakin.

Not Vader.

Anakin.

He could feel his hands, one of flesh and one of metal, and his legs. His skin was cool and smooth. Damp hair sticking on his brow. He could breathe on his own. 

Shellshocked, he didn’t react as Tarek’s face appeared above him as the man knelt on the ground and grabbed him from behind to strengthen him up, resting Anakin’s bare back against his chest. Pala knelt beside him, Yuve standing right behind her, and took his flesh hand in hers then gently wiped away the hairs sticking to his forehead. Anakin forced himself to look around and saw the shattered remains of the bacta tank, the bacta forming large puddles on the floor, the twisted metal panels on the walls and the blinking, like crushed in, ceiling lights.

“I did that…” he said, the words coming out of his mouth like a faint whisper, his voice too weak to fully express the horror of the realization.

“You did,” said Pala, her hands still holding him gently, but he could see the fear in her eyes.

He eyes must have asked the question he couldn’t find the strength to voice as Tarek explained, still shaken himself:

“You started to trash inside the tank. The monitors were beeping all around, it seemed like you were having a panic attack. The room…Everything was shaking. And the lights started to short-circuit. And then your eyes flew open and…Gods, I swear your eyes…they were a weird shade of yellow and like blood-shot ! And the tank imploded ! Luckily we weren’t hurt but…big pieces of transparisteel flew all around…”

Tarek’s words brought Anakin back into focus and he watched Pala and Yuve’s faces more closely. Yuve had a cut under her left eye and they were both soaked with bacta. And they were all three shaken, nearly afraid. Force, he had scared them. Hurt them. His eyes had turned yellow again ! But they were here, right beside him. He could feel Tarek’s strong arms holding him steady and his shirt against his back, Pala’s gentle hands in his and on his head…

He swallow with difficulties and, emotions almost choking him, asked weakly:

“Are you real ? Am I truly here, in this moment ?”

They all looked at each other, not understand where this was coming from, but they all replied as one:

“Yes, we are.”

“You are here.”

“Was there any doubt ?”

A sob of pure relief escaped Anakin’s lips, and tears ran on his cheeks as an elated smile formed on his lips. He tried to stop them, but as more fell down as he was overcome by deliverance, his fear fading, he gave up and allowed himself to cry his emotions away. His companions stood silent, and very obviously trying to give any meaning to what was happening. 

“Sorry…” Anakin apologized. “I didn’t realize I was doing…all of this. I’ll pay for a new tank…”

“You’d better,” Yuve said with a small smile, harsh and practical as ever. “If you don't, Seyichi will have your head. Right after he has a heart-attack.”

“Why did you even put me in there in the first place ?” Anakin asked, voice steadying.

Their faces shifted from worried and scared to annoyed and pissed off.

“Can you stand up ?” Tarek asked.

Anakin tried to move his legs, but they felt heavy and distant, like they weren’t his own. So he shook his head, and Tarek stood while holding him, put him on his feet and helped him take the few steps to the infirmary bed where Anakin managed to sit straight on his own. Yuve draped a blanket over his naked shoulders, and he noticed for the first time that he was shivering, drops of bacta running over his body and wearing nothing more than boxer shorts. He thanked her with a nod while Pala gestured for him to watch the examination panel on the wall. 

“Because you were far from fine, contrary to what you claimed, you idiot,” she said almost angrily while pointing to X-rays and medical information his brain wasn’t sharp enough in the moment to read. “Your helmet might have prevented your head from turning into goo, you still had a very bad contusion ! And your whole back was covered by one single massive bruise that was swelling against your lower spine and one of your four broken ribs, threatening to have one of them puncture your left lung !”

Oh, so that was what the X-ray showed…

“It’s a kriffin’ wonder you managed to function enough to stand before Grakkus and come here,” Tarek added and it was the first time Anakin heard him swear.

“Next time something like that happens, don’t play the hero,” Pala finished, arms crossed and brow furrowed in disapproval. “Don’t stand there and say you’re okay, just tell us you’re in pain !”

Anakin looked blankly at the panel and the reports it displayed. He had already noted that his tolerance for pain had changed and skyrocketed, and that his body didn’t process it the same way it used to. But he hadn’t suffered injuries as severe since his return to fully comprehend how dangerous it would be for him.

“I wasn’t…” he said in a whisper.

“You weren’t what ?” Yuve asked.

“In pain. I wasn’t.”

“For the suns’ sake, Anakin !” Pala yelled at him. “Just stop it ! We are not at Gardulla’s, we won’t bite if you show weakness !”

“I was not in pain,” Anakin barked back. “I didn’t feel any pain ! I felt…constricted and tired. My head hurt and I felt a little discomfort when I inhaled, but that’s it ! I’ve been injured in battle before, I know what it feels like ! And it was far worse than what I felt today.”

Tarek felt his honesty and his worry over this knowledge and was the first to quiet his anger:

“You didn’t feel the pain ?” he asked with worry. “How could you not feel it ? The fall alone should have done much more damage, that you got away with just broken ribs, huge bruise and contusion in itself is already a miracle. But not feeling a thing…”

Anakin chuckled darkly:

“Be in constant agony for long enough and your body re-evaluate its understanding of pain.”

The looks it earned him were explicit in their horror, so he directed the conversation to safer waters:

“Anyway…thanks for the medical care. But, could you please…forgo the bacta tank if anything like this happens again ?”

“You needed the bacta tank…”Yuve started.

“I know but…please,” he pleaded, his voice bordering on desperate. “No bacta tank. Find another way. Any way. Just…no bacta tank !”

They exchanged another look, but before they could silently agree on anything Pala said:

“Okay, no bacta tank. If you explain what’s the deal with your eyes changing colors like that.”

Damn him to all Sith hells…Pala was really good at her trade.

“It’s a…Force thing,” he eluded poorly.

“Force thing, right…” Pala repeated, not buying his bullshit for one second. 

“A bad one,” Anakin conceded. “You don’t want to see me like this again.”

Pala and Anakin glared daggers at each-other, like two siblings refusing to be the one who would look down first. Tarek broke it down by saying:

“So…no more bacta tanks I guess.”

Anakin looked away from Pala, granting her victory in their staring contest, and opted for changing the subject again:

“Did you take a look at the files I took from Veko while I was out ?”

Yuve grabbed a datapad resting on a desk and handed it to Anakin, who scrolled through absently, more to occupy his hands and distract him than truly in search of anything.

“Severals things that might be of interest,” Yuve said. “None that are of high priority, though.”

As she said so, Anakin came across a name he recognized straight away and read all the information Veko had about this name. A smile slowly graced his lips.

“Of high priority, maybe not,” he said. “But after Operation Blue Dust is done…I just found our next target.”

Pala came closer and took the datapad from him to read what he had just stuck his teeth into.

“Who’s Echo ?” she asked, perplexed. 

Chapter Text

    The sound of endless blaster shots was deafening. Sharp and piercing. The voices of the troopers firing them, by contrast, were deep and constant. The two sounds mixing and merging in a muffled cacophony, as if the battle was happening far away and not right here, all around him. The crushing noise of clankers’ massive feet thundering on the ground in an unrelenting march reverberated inside his skull like the toll of monstrous bells. The roars of victory and the cries of despair were covering each other in turn. The scenery around him was a twisted jungle of worlds, where barren fields took up most of the ground, trees from all over the galaxy grew unchecked, breaking the walls of the Jedi’s Temple, beautiful paintings of Jedi’s daily life adorned what was left of the ceiling which opened on a sky full of different planets, all imploding one after another in the scariest silence. All he could do was stand there, his feet fused with the half marble half swamp under him, as the blurred silhouettes moved all around him. All he could do was watch and try not to scream mindlessly, as the Shock Troopers executed the Rebels kneeling in surrender, as the Droid Army burnt down a village of civilians trapped inside their homes, as clones from the 501th dragged screaming younglings by the legs from under the beds they hid under. As Padmé stood in the middle of it all, clearer than the rest, holding her throat and trying desperately to breath while her eyes searched his face in horror.

He shut his eyes tight and pressed his hands against his ears, trying to block all of it, wishing it away but of no avail as the colors and sounds all but ignored the barrier of his body to imprint themselves in his mind all the same. The battlefield was his universe, death his ever present companion, innocents his rightful ghosts and accusers. He opened his mouth to beg it all to stop, but his voice was gone and all that came out of his burned throat was silence. He begged all the same, his lips forming the words, his mind howling them to the void. And the more he begged, the more he became aware of another sound, underneath all this chaos. A sound he once knew better than any other, could have recognized among any other and brought him comfort like none other. 

Shmi’s voice.

Among the resounding clamor of war, his mother was singing softly. An old lullaby, the first words in Huparimar he could remember hearing, one he always asked her to sing before he went to bed, while they cooked together, while they were working on their separate bench station. 

Na kaylan pe aliiku

Konee yura sanpa 

Matae intituukwa

The words made their way to his mind with a much nicer touch than the war, in an effort to remind him of more peaceful times.

On the reaches of safety

Where the white sands 

Join the twilight 

He knew the rest of the lyrics, it echoed inside him like a heartbeat, his mother’s voice almost lost in the cacophony but impossible to miss once perceived, inviting him, guiding him. Back toward home. Toward the endless dunes of sand under the moonslight. Toward the vestiges of a once bountiful life. 

And when regret, longing, sorrow and nostalgia choked him to the point of tears, finally he woke up.

It took Anakin a few moments to untangle himself completely from his dream, his gaze fixed upon the roof of his bedroom, the sound of the rain against the windows not enough to banish Shmi’s lullaby, tendrils of her voice still drifting in the air like fallen leaves in a stream. Anakin sat in his bed, his left elbow resting on his left knee as he ran his hand through his hair, damp with sweat, with a deep sigh. 

Another night, another nightmare.

He barely had a proper night's sleep ever since the whole ordeal with Veko. The man had hit all the right buttons, and in doing so, triggered all the wrong responses. Veko had shaken the little hard won confidence that Anakin had in himself and his abilities, sending him back to square one, to that first year on Mortis. He had trouble sleeping, skipped meals, buried himself into his works and projects, neglected the needs of his body, and had lost control over some of his powers again. He nearly botched one of his jobs for Grakkus, earning him a few cold words from the Hutt, who luckily had forgiven him for this one mishap in favor of all his previous success. He had brushed it off, at first, called it a minor consequence of his injuries, but when after a month of it, the Blue Sun ’s crew pointed all of it out, worrying for the friend they were watching wither without understanding why, he’d realized that never before had he suffer such a bad relapse. Pala had taken his hand and rubbed gentle circles on it, as they all agreed it was best for him to take a break, go back on Mortis and stay there as long as he needed to recenter himself. It had been only four or fives days for them, but weeks now for him. And he was still waiting for the comfort of what he now called home.

Gazing through the windows, Anakin guessed the early dawn, but the light was very dim, as the sky was thick with low gray clouds pouring heavy rain. His fault, he knew. The weather had been either terrible or gloomy ever since he returned. And, was he imagining it, or were the raindrops hitting the glass in rhythm with Shmi’s song ? 

Suuka na sinchie

Che haku sut’ita sa

E je yayureena

To ma sunqya kurachee

Anakin closed his eyes and let the sound of the rain fill the room, his mind and his heart, as he mumbled the lyrics under his breath:

I see the universe

As it truly is

And I’m reminded

Of my beating heart

He could feel the Force gently pushing him to keep going, hoping he would sing louder. But how long had it been since he had last sung ? Ahsoka had loved listening to him sing softly while they tinkered or waited for a respite in the battle, Obi-Wan had always told him he had a beautiful voice and that he was good at it. But his voice had long left him and he didn’t trust whatever would come out of his throat should he try again. So he carried on the tune in barely more than a hum, and it was enough. Enough for him to feel the warmth of the suns, the softness of the grass beside the waterfalls, see the gorgeous colors in the sky in the early hours of the morning reflected on the still sand, the lights in the streets of Theed after sunsets, like thousands of fireflies. He could feel Padmé’s hand stroking his back lovingly while her curls tickled his bare shoulder as she rested her chin on it.

“Where are you ?” she was asking tenderly, almost playfully.

Anakin’s eyes snapped open, searching the empty space beside him for her, for her warmth and her touch, for her smell and any traces that she had actually been there. But there were none. She was parsecs away, and he missed her so badly in this moment that his heart literally ached. Trying to ground him in the here and now, Anakin ran his flesh hand on his hair. It tingled. Never before had he worn them so short, not even during his padawan years. But when he had came home after weeks of slow decline, hair and beard unkept and a tad too long, after a shared look with the Father, Silman had led him to the fresher, took a razor and scissors, and had carefully shaved his beard and cut his hair so short it almost looked like he was bald again. He still remembered the feeling that had seized him as he had looked at his shaved face for the first time. He had rejected it immediately, hated how young he looked like this, feeling like he was seeing a poor caricature of himself, somewhere stuck between his younger self and his Vader’s face. He had almost wept and the instinctive punch he had thrown had broken the mirror in hundreds of pieces. But Silman just cleaned it up, taking the broken shards away, and had helped Anakin to change clothes as he remained lifeless as a doll, trying to figure out how he could have fallen so many rungs back in such little time. Qui-Gon had sat by his bedside that night, silent but present, allowing him the weight of his emotions but, without any words needed, assuring him of his unwavering support in the new climb up the ladder. 

His hair had grown up a bit now, he kept his stubble clean and even and his mentors had re-established their old routine. One could almost believe Anakin had never left Mortis. 

Taking a deep breath, Anakin pushed himself out of his bed. He had a few hours before him, but still had his training to attend to, and he knew by experience that the more depressed and the more out of touch he would be, the harsher Qui-Gon would push him. A good breakfast first was needed, even though he doubted he would be able to swallow more than a cup of tea. Still, he put on some clean training hakama and sleeveless shirt, washed up a bit in the fresher and headed to the dining room. As per usual, a plate of fresh fruit was waiting for him on the low table, so he picked up a moon peach and went to sit by the large window. It seemed like the rain would keep on falling for a while, as thick clouds stretched as far as he could see above the trees. He let his gaze get lost in the contemplation of the world before him, and played with the peach instead of eating it. His thoughts kept circling back to Shmi and Padmé. He knew they would hate to see him as he was. They would try their hardest to put him back together, support him with kind words and wise advices, and once more he felt himself regretting that the two of them never got to spend more time together, to know each other better. In a perfect world, they would all sit together on a porch to take breakfast by the lake on Naboo, Shmi braiding Leia’s hair while Padmé cut some bread for Luke as he listened to his children talk about all that came through their mind. This picture came to him often lately, as if to hammer on him the possibility he had missed. Sometimes, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka joined them for that perfect breakfast. Sometimes, Owen and Beru were sitting with them. And every time, he had to let this dream go to face the room where he was sitting alone. 

Anakin closed his eyes and, one by one, painfully let go of his mother’s smile, of Padmé’s hand in his, of Leia’s voice and Luke’s laugh. 

When he opened them again, with an emptiness in his heart that was sadly now all too familiar, a hand was holding a cup of tea in front of his face.

Anakin blinked several times to make sure he was seeing clearly, then followed the arm attached to that hand, and saw Silman’s smiling face. 

“Good morning, my friend,” the older man said gently. “Care for a cup of tea ?”

A genuine smile appeared on Anakin’s lips as he accepted the cup: 

“Very much so, yes. Would you like to sit with me ?” he offered as he moved slightly aside to give Silman a spot with a nice view.

“Oh yes, thank you !” Silman accepted with obvious good mood, and sat gracefully while jungling his own cup and the tail of the bright blue cardigan he had insisted on buying during their last trip on Rishi.

After now years for him on Mortis, Silman was back from the bottomless deep of insanity, his mind mended and his heart at peace. They were still, there and then, little lingering gestures or speech patterns that betrayed a once frayed mind, but no one could deny that he was now whole. The Father was the primary source of such a recovery, but the old being liked to remind Anakin that he had his hand in it too. And if Anakin had to judge from his own experience, having another real and living human being on Mortis with him surely helped. Anakin had made sure that boredom wouldn’t plague Silman as it had him by the end, and, added to his presence and companionship, had brought back from his journeys outside Mortis things to occupy Silman. Simple things, such as a holoprojector and a small collection of holomovies and holodrama, datapads that weren’t about the Force, music and games…After a while Silman had asked to come with him on small trips to choose what he wanted. The first ones had been hard, the man’s focus still too easily broken. He was scared easily too and had forgotten that taking things without paying was called stealing. But the more they went out, the easier it got. Now, it was just formality.

 Anakin and him were different as night and day and surely, had they met in different circumstances, the two men would probably have never grown to be friends. Silman liked bright colors, sappy holomovies and sweet and savory food, talked a lot and could spend hours without moving, just watching the birds fly. He would have driven Anakin’s younger self crazy. This Anakin, on the other hand, was just fine putting up with those disparities of character to enjoy the things they did meet on. It was worth the hours spent cooking together, each their own plate if needed, talking about politics and how they thought they could change the galaxy for the better. Silman loved to watch him train with his lightsaber, and loved the dance-like movements of it. Anakin had been glad to hear Silman talk about the Jedi he used to know. They had talked about Sifo-Dyas and Dooku at length, and Anakin knew for sure that the information in Silman possession was indeed invaluable. 

Again and again, Silman proved Anakin had been right to save him as soon as he’d been able to, by his confirmed strategic value, and by simply having become a dear friend. A dear friend who didn’t miss the soar mood and poor state of mind in which Anakin lingered ever since his return, and had tried his best to return the favor by taking care of Anakin. It was clumsy at times, and Anakin didn’t appreciate the effort as he should every time, but the Father was there to remind him to be more lenient, as Silman’s efforts were born out of concern and as taking his foul mood out on his friend was a very poor character trait. Silman, luckily, paid it no mind. And judging by the side look Silman was giving him now, poorly hidden by his nonetheless genuine smile, Anakin knew that this was another attempt at elevating his spirits. 

“Did you sleep poorly again ?” Silman asked.

“What gave it away ?” Anakin replied with a soft tone. “The bags under my eyes or the blood vessels inside said eyes ?”

“You playing with your food instead of eating it, actually,” Silman said, proving once again that he was much more observant than one would be willing to give to a man once lost to madness. 

But the moment he pointed it out, Anakin kept his hands still, the peach cradled inside them. 

“Do you want to talk about it ?” Silman asked.

“ You know why I don’t sleep,” Anakin remarked.

“Yes, you have nightmares,” Silman said and this time the annoyance in his voice couldn’t be missed. “But you never told me exactly why. Nightmares don’t come from nowhere. Yet, you’re always evasive about yours. Not my business, is that it ?”

Silman had made no effort to hide the reproach, meaning he wanted Anakin to be fully aware of his discontentment. 

“Or am I the only one who has to share everything, and you are the one who has the right to keep secrets ?” Silman kept going. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” Anakin reassured. “Much to my surprise, we are.”

“Well, friends are supposed to talk to each-other.”

“We are talking right now.”

“No, I’m talking, you are deflecting. That’s our traditional conversation pattern. You never said anything about you. Years we’ve known each-other now, and I could barely say that I know you. You talk about your childhood, your Padawanship and your time as general easily, but never about the rest of your life.”

“The times you speak about are pretty much all my life…” Anakin tried to lie.

“No it’s not,” Silman said with absolute certainty. “I have been here long enough. I’ve seen and heard enough. There is a big part of your life you are hiding away. I don’t blame you, every man has his secrets and right to privacy, but whatever you’re hiding, it’s bearing heavily on you, to the point of keeping you from sleeping. I just wish you trusted me enough to share a little bit of your burden. I don’t know if I can lighten it, but at least I can listen.”

Anakin was all too aware of all those things. He knew that he never truly confided in Silman, not on the things that truly mattered. He kept him in the dark, just like he was keeping Owen, Beru and the Blue Sun ’s crew in the dark.

“It’s complicated…” Anakin started, tiredly.

“And a man just out of madness cannot understand it, right ?” Silman asked, with a touch of resentment. 

Anakin chuckled to that, and Silman looked baffled, clearly not expecting this reaction.

“Any sane man would have trouble understanding, so believe me the problem does not come from you !”

Silman looked at him for a long moment, his eyes searching his face as if he was trying to read something there that would solve the puzzle that was Anakin, but obviously failed, as he sighed in defeat, and looked down at his hands, rubbing them together.

“I just want to help you,” Silman said sheepishly. “Like you helped me.”

It was Anakin’s turn to sigh. He understood where Silman’s feelings were coming from, and was grateful for it. He couldn’t be entirely honest, but there were things he could share. 

“I made some mistakes,” he started. “Enormous and heavy with consequences mistakes. I want to help people, but every time I try, I make the wrong choices and instead of getting better, things get worse. And instead of helping people, I get them hurt. And I keep making those mistakes ! No matter what, I just keep making the wrong decision, again and again. The harder I try, the more I fail.”

“I’m pretty sure that this isn’t true,” Silman said. “I read some articles on the HoloNet while we were on Daiyu, and it was clear that, as a general, you saved a lot of people from terrible fate.”

“Yes, the HoloNet loves to paint me as a war hero, great liberator and all. But I always do so at the cost of many lives. I’m not sure it’s an equal trade, in the end.”

He could give so many examples to prove his point. And he didn’t even have to include his time as Vader. He had done his share of damages way before that. The destruction of Mokivj, the hardships he had brought on Lanteed, Dara’s death…The list was way too long for comfort. 

“And the worst in all that ?” he kept going. “The ones that I hurt the most are those I love the most. And then I lose them. Because they are either dead or can’t take it anymore. And I rage and I howl and I refuse it all. Because I can’t seem to be able to see beyond myself.”

“You spend time with me,” Silman countered, his politician mind awoken and ready to debate. “You have taken care of me and I know you are helping people beyond this planet with this plan of yours. Those are not the actions of a selfish man, I recon.”

“I helped you because I needed you for my plan,” Anakin said. “And I spend time with you because I can’t bear loneliness.”

“Yet, the moment you realized you and I had very different tempers and hobbies, you stuck around. And that great plan you’re following, what is it meant for, if not for saving the galaxy ?”

Anakin had to concede this point, but he refused to be absolved of any guilt he might have in the name of his current actions. He didn’t feel like he deserved it yet, the scales of his deeds and misdeeds hadn’t balanced yet.

“For vengeance too,” he whispered, in part for it being the truth and in part to reveal more of his own darkness. “Sidious’ defeat is very personal, it’s not as selfless and heroic as it might appear.”

Silman must have sensed he wasn’t going to get anything from this tactic, so he changed the angle of his next attack:

“I refuse to believe that not a single soul ever stuck by your side, no matter what.”

“And yet…” Anakin whispered again, denying voices to the memory of Luke staying with him until his last breath, of Ahsoka refusing to leave Malachor, of the holo of Padmé’s last moment and her conviction that he wasn’t lost.

“I don’t deserve it.”

Father. I won’t leave you.

“They are better off without me.”

I won’t leave you. Not this time.

“It’s safer for them this way.”

There’s good in him. I know. I know there’s…still…

He hid his face inside his hand, tears ready to break the barrier of his eyelids.

“I destroy everything I touch !” he said in a sob. “I can’t save anyone, let alone myself.”

Silman’s warm hand came to rest on his shoulder:

“Well, on that, I can only strongly disagree,” he said, to which Anakin lowered his hand to look at him in the eyes with a sharp counter-argument, but Silman bit him to it as he said:

“You saved me, after all.”

Anakin sat dumbstruck and had to remember to close his mouth.

“Call it selfish if you want,” Silman added, “but it’s actually kinda important to me.” 

Anakin was at a loss for words, because he couldn’t turn this argument down. Because it was not simply an argument but a fact. And considering that rescuing Silman had only taken one death, when looking back on his track record, it could be seen as a success. If one was willing to be open-minded and lenient. Which Anakin was currently not…But Silman took Anakin’s silence as victory, both in reminding Anakin that he had done a good thing and that he’d managed to have the last word. 

“I did save you,” Anakin capitulated.

Silman leaned closer like a teenager about to share a secret and with mirth in his eyes:

“Are you glad for it, or are you starting to regret it ?”

Anakin couldn’t hold the small laugh that escaped his lips.

“I don’t regret it,” he said.

“Then you better eat your breakfast. You always spend your mornings running around the planet, you can’t do it on an empty stomach. Oh ! I’ll make you some toasts ! Honey and jam. And sliced fruits on bean butter.”

“Those last two don’t go together,” Anakin said while scrunching his nose like a child, repelled by the simple notion of mixing these foods.

“Nonsense, they taste great,” Silman waved it away. “I’ll go and get the toaster !”

He rose in haste, his feet almost getting caught in the long tail of his cardigan and therefore losing his balance a bit but all too happy to soon present Anakin with another one of his strange culinary tastes. As he went, Anakin noticed that the rain had stopped.

“I am glad for his presence,” Qui-Gon said as he took the place Silman had just left.

“You are ? You were doubtful, at first.”

“I was, but only because I feared this place might not be the best to heal a broken mind. But he is stronger than we all give him credit for. And his enthusiasm and optimism are a good foil to your pessimism and self-centered wallowing.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow at him:

“Self-centered wallowing ?” he repeated. “Thank you so much for your support, Master, it is really oh so touching.”

Qui-Gon's face didn’t show the slightest trace of shame or contrition. He just folded his arms inside his sleeves, and looked straight ahead.

“You’ve been here for weeks now. It’s time you get your head out of that cloud of self-pity and self-flagellation you persist in carrying around. I know that what happened on Nar Shaddaa was hard for you, I understand that Veko managed to find your weak spots and press them hard, but one setback isn’t enough to erase all the progress you’ve made ever since you came back.”

“I never had a relapse that bad, yes. But am I to understand I’m not allowed to have one ?” 

“I never said that. You can, of course you can. I even expected you to have one sooner, it’s only to be expected. What you are not allowed is to stay stagnant and let yourself drown in this state. You are stronger than that ! You have shown us that you are. You have worked hard and are capable of taking the right lessons from it.”

Anakin remained silent. Unhappy but silent. He wanted to snap at Qui-Gon but knew it was not a good idea. 

“You have dragged yourself from worse than Veko Tolbar’s words. I do not understand why you let it put you down like this. It’s almost like you were looking for an excuse to break.”

At this, Anakin broke his silence with his teeth bared:

“You think I enjoy this ? Being like this ? Being back to square one ?”

“Then why are you still moping ?” Qui-Gon asked, his stony expression still directed in front of him.

Anakin watched his profile for a moment and, rather than answer the question, took his turn at cheap attacks:

“Well, no wonder why Obi-Wan ended up so uptight,” he chuckled darkly. “A side effect of growing up with your amazing communication skills and warm fatherly personality.”

“Such scathing comments are beneath you,” Qui-Gon replied. “If you want to play the bratty teenager, I handled my share of them, I can handle you.”

“And how did that turn out, by the way ?”

“Well enough for me to be prepared for whatever you will deem good to throw at me,” Qui-Gon replied, still unshaken.

“Well enough, hum ? Should we ask Xanatos and Feemor their side of this story ?”

Qui-Gon blinked just once, and Anakin grinned unkindly. Qui-Gon finally turned toward him and asked:

“How does such a small victory feel, Vader ?” 

Anakin’s grin disappeared instantly, replaced by anger and he leapt to his feet, his knuckles turning white:

“That is not my name anymore ! I am not him anymore !” he hissed through his teeth.

“Then why do you act like him ?”

That cut through Anakin’s building fury like a lightsaber through butter. He visibly deflated and Qui-Gon recognize that they had both gone too far, so he temporize:

“Forgive my harshness, but sometimes it seems to be the only thing that gets you to react.”

He then gesture for Anakin to sit back down, and waited for his student to comply to continue:

“The reason I’m so frustrated is because I see you fall back into some of your worst habits, while I know you are now perfectly capable of avoiding such habits.”

“Habits such as ?” Anakin asked, curious to know as he himself had failed to notice it.

“You beat yourself over every single mistake you ever made way much more than you should because you expect perfection from yourself. But you cannot reach perfection, as no living being can. So it makes you bitter and you take in on the people around you. You make it all about yourself so you refuse to hear our point of view. You let your guilt dictate your actions. And you wrapped yourself in all those problems to keep yourself from facing the root of your issues.”

Was it what he had been doing ? Yes, it sounded like something familiar.

“Veko found your insecurities and used them against you. What about it made you react so deeply ?”

Anakin knew this tone. Qui-Gon knew the answer to that question, and wanted to make sure that Anakin knew it too. And if he didn’t know it already then became aware of it.

“I just…” Anakin stammered. “I just can’t get anything right. I always end up with people's blood on my hands.”

“Did you kill anyone lately ?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Sergei.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, the simple gesture nullifying the argument:

“That is currently being addressed by your new crew members. You are under their judgment for some time now, and you know that it’s something you won’t be doing again. So I ask again, did you kill anyone lately ?”

“I failed to save Lunmar, I endangered the workers of the factory and the freedom fighters…”

“None of the workers lost their lives,” Qui-Gon cut, “the freedom fighters know that what they do is not danger free and are accepting it. As for Lunmar, you tried to help him, and his capture was not your doing. And don’t try to argue that you should have tried harder. You need to accept once and for all that you cannot control everything. Things happen all the time, all around the universe without you being able to have the slightest influence on it, as it should be. All you can do is your best, and sometimes the best that you can do just isn’t enough. Your emotions and your bonds are not the only thing you need to let go of. Your need for control over the world around you reflects your fear. You know the rest, I won’t insult you by acting like you need another lesson about this particular subject.”

Anakin looked down on the cushion on which he was sitting. Its simple pattern suddenly seemed very interesting and also much easier to deal with than Qui-Gon’s words.

“You know all that I am saying,” the dead master continued. “You know it all, and you are working on it. So why ? Why did Veko got to you so much ?”

Anakin bit his lip. Qui-Gon was right, from start to finish. He knew exactly what had shaken him so deeply, and was too afraid of facing it, so he hid behind the curtain of his other insecurities and his guilt, because it was easier. He had worked hard from the moment he had decided to stay on Mortis to become a better man and never make those terrible mistakes again. He had learned from his three great mentors, and from Jedi long dead thanks to the library of holocrons the Father kept here. He had been so relieved and curious when he found out that the Jedi way was regarded so differently through so many eyes through so many centuries, that the doctrine taught at the Temple wasn’t always the one the Jedi had followed, that many sects and faction within the Jedi had existed throughout the Order’s history and that he could find his own path among it all, a path that would keep him on the Jedi way but allowed him to carve a trail that fitted him the best. That he could bring it all to the Order and share it with the Jedi, and guide them toward not only survival but changes and improvements. Each time he left Mortis, he carried the knowledge that he was indeed becoming a better person and a better Jedi, even though he couldn’t call himself one, not yet, and drew confidence from this knowledge. And he knew exactly what broke this confidence and sent him spiraling down.

Qui-Gon was looking at him with expectation, and his gaze was kinder than his words had been. He waited for Anakin to find the strength to admit the truth.

“It felt like being confronted with Sidious…” Anakin murmured at last.

Qui-Gon’s shoulder relaxed instantly, glad to see that his student was finally willing to face the problem.

“How so ?” he asked, his voice now as kind as his gaze.

“Sidious always knew. What to say, what to do. How to say it and how to do it. He always knew where to dig and how to unearth my deepest fear and doubts. As Palpatine, he disguised it as concern and well-meaning advice. The gentle pet on my head to hide the knife on my throat. And Veko had the same ability. I already was biased, as I knew Bane as a regular henchman of Sidious, so I kept most of my attention on him and therefore became almost blind to the threat on my other side. I knew I shouldn’t trust Veko. He was a hunter and worked for Grakkus so of course I couldn’t trust him. But I didn’t mistrust him enough. So when he revealed his knife, I had shown too much and he knew exactly where to strike. And I was barely able to hold my own against him…If Yuve had not be there, I would be on my way to Sidious now, and everything would be lost.”

Anakin’s head was hanging low as he concluded:

“How am I supposed to face Sidious and stand up to him, if I cannot face a simple bounty hunter who was leagues under Sidious ?”

He lifted his head and looked Qui-Gon in the eyes: