Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Anakin used to dream of the Stars.

When he was a child, he had laid on the sand of Tatooine. Looking up at the endless night sky and imagine what it was like to walk among the stars. Live up to his name. Each point of light seemed like a promise of something greater. A life beyond slavery, beyond the harsh twin suns and endless dunes. He dreamed of freedom, adventure, and a destiny far away from the world that tried to chain him and his mother.

The stars had been his hope. His escape. He had made a vow to see them all one day.

How dreams crumble and turn to dust.

Vader hadn't cared for anything. There had always been a disattachment from everything around him. It was ironic, really. Once, he had cared too much. Loved too deeply. That was what had broken him, after all. The attachments he’d once held,his mother, Padmé, Ahsoka, Rex, and even Obi-Wan, had driven him to desperation, to anger, to the darkness that now consumed him. And now, as Darth Vader, he was the opposite. Detached. Cold. 

He would make a good Jedi now, wouldn't he?

He had heard that when death was sure at hand, their life would flash before them. but Anakin was only full of regrets. 

The life with a family he never knew. 

The life he had always dreamed of but had been denied, denied by his actions. A mother who would still be alive, smiling as she watched her son and daughter grow. A life where Padmé's laughter filled their home, where their children, their children, grew up in peace, untainted by war or the Dark Side. A life where Ahsoka had stayed by his side, where Rex hadn't been forced to choose between duty and friendship, and where Obi-Wan hadn't been his enemy but still his brother.

Anakin could see it so clearly, as if it were a holovid playing in the corner of his mind. But it wasn’t real. It had never been real. And that was the cruelest truth of all. The choices he had made had ensured that such a life would always remain out of reach.

A son and a daughter. He would cry if his tear ducts weren't melted shut. For so long he had thought he had lost everything- but it had been there. And he was the reason he didn't have them. The reason they didn't have a father, a mother, a family.

But they had to have something right? He didn't know how Luke's childhood was but Leia had the Organa's.

The thought made him wince. He had killed his daughter's adopted family. Killed her planet. 

Regret was his constant companion now, an echo of the man he used to be. His mother's dying words haunted him now, a whisper in the back of his mind. You're meant for greatness, Anakin. Don't look back.

But all he could do was look back.

It was getting harder to breathe now, but he didn't know if that was due to his failing respirator or the flames slowly getting closer.

Only death would be his release. 

The pain, the weight of his armor, the endless regrets, death would take it all away. Perhaps then, Anakin Skywalker could finally rest. Perhaps then, he could find peace in the void, where no expectations, no failures, no betrayals existed.

It sounded more than he deserved.

He closed his eyes as the world around exploded.

The Force was not a benevolent guide, nor was it an impartial tide flowing through the galaxy. It was ancient, incomprehensible, and vast beyond mortal understanding. A being that existed outside the confines of time, space, and morality. It was the rhythm that shaped creation, the silent breath behind every living thing and the guide for the dead.

It had no shape, yet it could take one if it so desired. It existed everywhere and nowhere, watching, listening, and feeling every ripple of emotion, every scream of pain, and every burst of joy across the stars. It was beyond comprehension, a thing of ancient will, timeless and unyielding. It was love and wrath, creation and destruction, a paradox of infinite possibilities. 

And it loved Anakin Skywalker.

From the moment of his birth, the Force had reached out to him, cradling his fragile existence like a parent holding their only child. It had whispered to him in dreams, shaping him, crafting him to be its chosen instrument. He was not a mistake, not a mere accident of the cosmos. He was its son, born of its will, flesh and blood sculpted to bring balance to an ever-spiraling galaxy. It watched him grow on the desolate sands of Tatooine, feeling his boundless potential and the ache in his heart. It saw his suffering, his longing, and it ached with him.

But the Force was not a kind or gentle parent. It was vast and unfathomable, its love incomprehensible to mortal minds. It did not interfere when Shmi suffered, nor when Anakin was taken from her. It did not soothe him when his dreams become nightmares or when loss tore at his soul. It allowed him to hurt, to bleed, to break, because it believed in him. It believed he could endure. It believed he would rise.

Even as he fell, spiraling into darkness, the Force did not abandon him. It clung to him, its whispers turning to anguished cries as Anakin became Vader. It was there when he slaughtered innocents, when he burned the galaxy in his fury. It screamed with him in his torment, not as a deity casting judgment, but as a parent watching their child destroy themselves.

And when Anakin died, finally embracing it again, it felt something never thought possible. 

Sorrow.

This would not stand.

Anakin was its child, it's Chosen. The Force did not simply let him go.

It reached out into the universe and pulled its will from the very fabric of existence, unraveling the laws of life and death. It was not a god of mercy or forgiveness- it was the will of creation itself, bound by no rules but its own. The Force reached into the dying remnants of Anakin Skywalker’s essence, pulling him from the precipice of oblivion, reshaping him once more.

Everything felt like a dream.

Anakin floated, weightless, surrounded by a darkness so deep it seemed to swallow him whole. It felt like nothing and everything at once. He felt suspended between two worlds, a place where time and space no longer held any meaning. The coldness of the void embraced him, but there was no fear. No pain. Just an eerie calm that felt both alien and familiar.

Anakin had no sense of direction, no sense of self, only the overwhelming presence of something, someone, watching over him. The Force. It whispered to him, though its words were not clear, not in any way he could understand through his mortal mind. It was like an ancient song, felt rather than heard, reverberating through his very being.

You are not done, my child.

The words echoed, not through his ears, but within him, resonating in the core of his soul. They felt like a comfort, but also an unyielding command. He wasn't supposed to be here. This was not his time, not his end.

He tried to remember... his last moments. The explosion. The pain. The sense of finality. Wasn't that it? Hadn’t he paid for his sins? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

The Jedi had talked about a place like this, in hypotheticals. A place where only the Force existed. The World Between Worlds.

Open your eyes child. It if safe.

Anakin opened his eyes.

It was beautiful.

Everything around him shimmered and shifted like starlight poured into infinity. The void was no longer empty but filled with glowing pathways that stretched into eternity, 

After a few minutes of staring at the endless void, Anakin reached out a hand to the never ending sky. 

He froze.

In front of him, backdropped by the star filled void, was a hand. But it didn't look normal. Anakin wiggled his fingers and watched as the hand wiggled its fingers. That was this hand.

The hand that was cut off.

He raised his other hand. It also looked… off. Without thinking pull himself up to look at himself.

He was covered in light.

Not armor, not fabric, but pure, radiant energy. His form shimmered, translucent and solid all at once, as though the Force itself had woven him a body out of starlight. Every movement left a faint trail of brilliance, like a comet streaking through the void. His reflection, mirrored in the infinite stars around him, bore no scars, no burns, no darkness. 

He looked... whole.

Was he alive? 

Then some chuckled at him. “No… and yes.”

Anakin spun around but there was no one there. Just more void.

The laughter echoed through the void, soft and knowing, almost like a parent amused by a child’s confusion.

“Who’s there?” Anakin called, his voice almost alien to him. It was strong, no longer muffled by mechanical respirators or weakened by the weight of his pain.

The laughter subsided, replaced by a voice, warm and resonant, as if it emanated from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“Welcome, Anakin Skywalker. Or… should I call you Darth Vader?” the voice mused, teasing yet gentle.

Anakin bristled at the name, his fists clenching reflexively. “That name…” he growled. “That thing is gone.”

“Is it?” the voice asked, no judgment in its tone, only curiosity. “You carry the shadow of him still, just as you carry the light of the boy who dreamed of freedom.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Anakin admitted, his voice faltering. He looked down at his glowing. “Am I… alive?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the voice replied enigmatically. “You are not as you were, nor as you might have been. You are with me now.”

Anakin felt a pang of frustration. “And what is that? Why am I here?”

A figure began to materialize before him, emerging from the void like a flame igniting in the darkness. It was neither man nor woman, neither young nor old. It was glowing but darken, shifting from light to dark throughout its body. Its form was fluid, shifting, as though it was every possibility at once. Its eyes, however, were steady, glowing with the light of a thousand stars. 

“You are here because your story is not yet finished,” the figure said, stepping closer. “I've always watched you, Anakin, from the moment you took your first breath to the moment you took your last. It has seen your triumphs, your failures, your pain, and your love. And I love love throughout it all”

Anakin frowned, his brow furrowing. “Another chance? At what? Redemption? Balance? I failed at all of it. I destroyed everything. I…” His voice broke, and he turned away, unable to meet the figure’s gaze.

The figure’s voice softened, filled with a compassion that felt almost unbearable. “ I am not to punish you, but to help you.”

“Help?” Anakin asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“To where you must go next,” the figure said, gesturing to the void around them. The stars began to shift, swirling before setting down into a different formation. It pulsed with an energy that felt both familiar and foreign, as if it was calling to him.

“You are the Force.” Anakin breathed out in disbelief.

The figure smiled, its expression both ancient and timeless, and inclined its head slightly, as if amused by the realization. “Yes, Anakin. I am the Force, though not as you may have understood me before. I am creation and destruction, the infinite and the intimate. I am the light, the dark, and the space in between. And I have always been with you.”

Anakin... Anakin didn't know quite how to feel about this. This being... The personification of the Force... 

His other parent.

The thought struck Anakin like a lightning bolt. His other parent. The one who had been with him from the beginning, whispering to him in his dreams, pulling him toward his destiny, yet silent in his darkest moments.

His jaw tightened as a storm of emotions swirled within him. Anger, confusion, sorrow, and a strange, aching comfort all warred for dominance. “If you’ve always been with me,” Anakin began,  trembling, “then why did you let me fall? Why did you let her die? My mother. Padmé?”

The figure tilted its head, its luminous eyes gazing at him with an unfathomable depth. “I did not stop you, Anakin, because to do so would have been to deny you what makes you who you are: your ability to choose. I am the Force, and I guide. I do not command. I love you, as I love all things, but love does not strip away freedom. It cannot.”

Anakin shook his head, turning away to hide the tears he could feel welling up. “You let me destroy everything,” he said bitterly. “You let me become a monster.”

“You became what you chose to become,” the Force said gently, though its words carried a weight that pressed down on Anakin’s shoulders. “And yet, even in your darkest moments, I never abandoned you. My love for you did not waver. It cannot waver.”

He laughed bitterly, but it was directed at himself more than at the other being. He fell to his knees, tears threatening to fall. “Why? Why show yourself to me now?”

The Force, the embodiment of creation and destruction, watched Anakin silently as he knelt in the void. It did not reach out to comfort him with empty words or promises of absolution. Instead, it allowed him the space to truly feel the weight of his guilt, his sorrow, and the anguish that had defined his life.

“Because I am giving you another chance to live.” It spoke softly as light slowly grew next to it.

Anakin stared at the point of light, his mind racing. 

“I don’t deserve this,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.” 

“Perhaps not,” the figure said, stepping closer. “But forgiveness is not about what you deserve. It is about what others choose to give. And it is about what you choose to give yourself.”

Anakin closed his eyes, feeling the weight of those words. For so long, he had been consumed by regret. By anger. Self-loathing. Hate. But here, in this place of light and void, he felt something he hadn’t felt in decades.

Hope.

He opened his eyes and met the figure’s gaze. “What must I do?”

The figure smiled, a radiant warmth emanating from it. “Step into the light, my child. And begin again.”

Anakin stared, his mind racing. Could he really return? Could he face those he had wronged, those he had failed? Could he make amends for the countless lives he had taken, the pain he had caused?

The figure's gaze softened, understanding his uncertainty. "This is not the end, Star Child. It is a beginning. A chance to live the life you were meant to lead. But you must choose it. You must take the step. It will not be pleasant though”

Anakin nodded along, hearing but not falling listening as he stood again. He slowly made his way to the light and raised his hand. He took a deep breath and touched the light.

Pain.

Anakin.

That was the first thing Anakin registered. Pain was everywhere. It was radiating from every fiber of his being. It wasn’t just physical, though that alone was unbearable, the raw ache of a broken body. This was deeper, sharper, the weight of a soul torn apart by years of regret and sorrow.

       Dear one?

He gasped, or tried to, but the breath felt caught in his chest, heavy and suffocating. Memories flooded his mind: the fire of Mustafar, the screams of the younglings, Padmé’s lifeless face, and Luke’s anguished plea as he had removed his mask. Each moment cut into him like shards of glass that reached into his soul.

             Anakin?!

Distantly, he thinks he's yelling. But something that felt like hands were pushing him down, suffocating him. It only makes the pain worse, like burn on his skin. He tried to move- to do anything. Push, punch, claw. 

                     Anakin!?

What was going on? Death would be better then this. Anything would be better then this. 

                            Anakin!

But this pain, he deserved it. He did this to himself. The pain he used to hurt other apon himself.

ANAKIN!

A snap back to reality. A blurry but familiar face took up most of his vision.

“Obi….Wan…?” He asked before his world went dark.

Chapter Text

It had been a week.

Anakin had been released from the Healers a day ago. He had learned that he had been in training with Obi-Wan when he passed out and started to scream. Blood had been coming from his nose and ears and went into seizures. Apparently he had been in and out of conscience for days, with some of the Healers thinking he would pass.

He almost died already; it was almost laughable.

Now, Anakin was in his room, curled up on his bed. There were too many thoughts circling inside his head. It was so overwhelming. The feeling was like staring at the dying sun for far too long. Yet at the same time, he felt numb and cold. He barely had the energy to move.

"Anakin?" The voice made him tense up. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

He needed to calm down. He needed to focus on something or he would lose consciousness again.

The padawan raised his right arm to his chest, flexing it. Near the end of his life, most of his body had been replaced with mechanical parts. But, his arm had been gone the longest, since he was 19. It felt so surreal to be able to feel the flesh there. 

He didn't know how to feel about it. Any of this. He didn’t deserve this.

A knock reminded him that someone was still at his door, "May I come in?"

It took all the strength he had to say, “Yes.”

Anakin didn't move when Obi- Wan came in. The older man sighed, and Anakin could feel himself unconsciously curl in a ball even more.

As Vader, whenever he was forced to go through long periods in a bacta tank, he had dreamed of this. Of being with Obi-Wan again. Being close with him without pain and hatred. There bond open and almost loving. But at the moment, all Anakin remembered was the feeling of burning and eyes filled with sadness and disappointment.

But they had never held hatred. Not even at the very end.

Anakin just barely registered something being placed down on the side table when he felt Obi-Wan sit down next to him.

Obi-Wan didn't say anything at first. They just... didn't move. Sat there. Even though Anakin could feel a whirl of emotion within him, he couldn't help but feel antsy at doing nothing. Not when his master, alive, was right there.

Anakin swallowed and forced himself to look over his shoulder. 

His master's eyes were on him, but they weren't focused. Anakin, for the first time since waking up, got a good look at his master. 

Anakin could remember the last time he saw Obi-Wan. He had aged so fast, had been a shadow of his former self at the end of his life. But he still hoped that somewhere in Vader, was Anakin. But now? Obi-Wan was so much younger, his beard was only made up of peach-fuzz. Obi-Wan could grow it some 

He still had a slight sadness in his eyes, but nowhere near as pronounced as it was when Anakin killed-

Anakin felt tears well up in his eyes, and he almost hated himself for it. He blinked it away. He was a broken 45-year-old man inside the body of a 12-year-old. He could barely deal with his emotions when he really was 12. How was he supposed to do this?  

Obi-Wan seemed to have come back to himself and see Anakin's teary eyes as his face contorted into a look of concern. But before he could say anything, Anakin moved. He rolled over to face Obi-Wan, and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's stomach. The older man tensed up immediately, but Anakin didn't care. He rubbed his face against his master, making the tunic wet. Had he started to cry?

Anakin flinched when Obi-Wan's hand rested on his head. After a deep breath, he squeezed with all his 12-year-old strength he had.

"Anakin, what's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked gently, running a hand through his curls. He sounded lost. "Please, how can I help you, my Padawan?"

It took a few tries, but Anakin found his voice "O-overwhelming." He could barely recognize his own voice. It was raw and shaky from screaming and crying and lack of use. And so very young. "Everything is too...loud. Too bright," he sobbed.

"Take deep breaths, focus on my presence. You're safe," Obi-Wan spoke softly, continuing to gently stroke Anakin's hair.

Anakin focused on Obi-Wan. In the Force, Obi-Wan was like the sun, bright and passionate but still as calm and tranquil as a slow river. 

As he focused on his master's presence, the overwhelming feeling faded slowly. Eventually, Anakin's grip on Obi-Wan loosened, and he pulled back slightly, not looking at the Jedi.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently, slowly, "I don't...know what's happening but I'm here. We'll work through this together. Just tell me what you need."

Anakin nodded, unable to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. The room fell into a calm stillness, only broken by Anakin's occasional sniffles.

He was the first to talk again. "C-can we go to Dex's tomorrow?” Anakin doesn't fully remember the first time he went to the old dinner, just how wonderful that first time it had been. He hoped they had been already, or it would be hard to explain.

Obi-Wan raised a hand to Anakin's cheek to look him in the eyes. As Anakin looked up, he saw Obi-Wan's soft smile. “Of course, dear one. Is there anything else?”

Anakin looked down at his hand thinking before he looked up again. “Can you stay the night?”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. “Of course, I have to finish a report but I'll be back soon.”

Anakin nodded and Obi-Wan smiled. Anakin watched as his master left the room.

Tomorrow, Anakin would plan what to do with his future. He would try stop thinking of the past, what he should have done, and just move forward. To focus on what he could do.

But for now, he would enjoy this calm. He closed his eyes to focus on that feeling and held it closer to himself. He could feel himself drifting off as arms wrapped around his body.

Anakin woke up.

This time, Anakin knew where he was. The Place Between was still breathtaking, the endless void made of stars stretching into the infinite. Anakin marveled at the celestial tapestry that surrounded him, feeling a connection to the Force in a way he never before. Anakin felt at peace again.

“Do you feel it?” 

Anakin turned around. The Force had the appearance of last time, but this time they are around seven foot tall instead of being a giant. 

"Do you feel it?” They asked again.

Anakin nodded, somehow knowing what they were talking about. " I do, it felt…" Anakin thought of the right words to say, "'Like the Light was blinding me. Overwhelming me.”

The Force nodded in acknowledgment, its ethereal form pulsating with pride. It sat down on the see-through catwalk. "This is unbalanced, my Chosen, too much of anything is bad.”

Anakin frowned, "Was I right then? Are the Jedi evil?” He remembered yelling something like that at Obi-Wan in rage. Much, much later in life, he wasn't sure of it or not. He walked forward to stand next to them.

“Yes,” The being smiled, "And no.”

Anakin blinked, waiting for an explanation. 

"The Jedi, like all beings, are bound by their own choices," the Force explained. "It is not the organization that is inherently evil or good, but the actions and intentions of individuals within it. Balance is about understanding the shades between the extremes. The Jedi have chosen the Light, and only the Light. The issue is in Light, the shadows it casts are long.” As the entity talked, it raised one of it many arms and a bubble of light formed in its hands.

Anakin blinked a few times in thought, “So, the Jedi accepted a little bit of Darkness.” He asked as he sat down next the Force.

The Force chuckled, "To put in simple terms. The Light and the Dark coexist within the hearts of all beings. It is the conscious decisions that tip the scales in favor of one side or the other. Balance is not the absence of darkness but the acknowledgment and harmonious integration of both. Balance is both Light and Dark, not one without the other. If we forget the Darkness within us and others, we lose understanding and compassion for others and their situation.” The light bubble drifted away from its hand, joining the others in the sky.

The entity kissed his forehead and Anakin closed his eyes. “I know this is hard, especially given all you know is being challenged. You have time, my child, relax.”

And with that Anakin finally drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

When Anakin woke up, he was warm. 

He couldn't feel the bone chilling cold that seemed to haunt him when he was younger. He knew why before he opened his eyes.

Obi-Wan was sleeping next to him, letting Anakin use his arm as a pillow. The other arm gently held him close. The gentle heartbeats was almost like a lullaby that could make him fall asleep.

Anakin used the moment to just look at his master. Obi-Wan even looked younger as he slept, relaxed without his worry lines. Anakin wouldn’t lose this, not again. He would do whatever possible to make sure of it. 

Closing his eyes, he snuggled back into Obi-Wan's warmth. 

He let himself breath. In and out. In and out. Let himself live in this moment for just a second longer.

Obi-Wan shifted, making Anakin open his eyes. The older man wasn't awake yet but he would be soon

He had to get out of Obi-Wan's hold. Preferably without waking him up. Carefully slipping out of Obi-Wan's embrace, he made sure to grab the tray with the tea that had been forgotten last night. Then, Anakin tiptoed towards the edge of the room, making sure not to disturb his master's peaceful slumber. 

As he walked to their kitchen, he almost jumped for joy. Oh, it was so nice to walk without pain. Or the lack of pain whenever he breathed. Or just the lack of consistent pain in general really. 

Anakin poured the cold tea down the drain and started to make a new batch. As he worked, he started to let his mind wander. 

Timeline, he needed to think of the timeline of events. He was eleven right now so there were a lot of things to come. Like the Clone War. Meeting Padme again.   Sith Hells he could even-

Anakin nearly dropped to the cup.

His mother. She would still be alive. Tears came into his vision again, but Anakin shook his head. He didn’t need to cry anymore, he had to-

He needed to save her, he had no idea when Cliegg Lars bought and freed her. Of course, there was going to be a problem getting there. And freeing her.

Anakin's vision was blurring so sat down the cup he was holding to take a breath. He couldn't pass out again. He just needed to focus. He had time, he had time to save her. He focused on the calming and warm feelings of last night into his hands and laid them down on his chest. 

The Clone War was another issue. Could Anakin stop it? Not likely. The issues of why the war started were far bigger than Anakin. And he had no power to stop it. And did he even want to? As terrible as that sounded, Anakin still wanted his men to be alive. Jesse, Echo, Fives, Fox, Tup, Appo, Rex. All of his men.  They meant the world to him. But by now the Clone project should have started by now.

Anakin placed the newly brewed teas on the tray and started work on making breakfast. Anakin may be terrible at cooking, but he could make eggs. Mostly

Anakin would need to write everything down that he could remember of the war. As Vader, he had been haunted by his memories. His memories were the most terrible curse. To remember all he had failed to save, the what if's of what he could have done to save them.

But now, maybe it was a blessing. With the knowledge of upcoming events and battles, he can save people. His men. Padme. His mother.

Anakin had just finished with the eggs when he could hear rustling coming from his room. 

It was only when he felt his master’s presence behind him he turned around. Anakin saw Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, who looked disheveled. 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan asked slowly, as if not understanding what was happening in front of him. “Did you… make breakfast?”

Anakin nodded, looking at the food that was only slightly burnt in front of him. “You were sleeping and I wanted to do something nice.” He almost cringed. He knew he was being out of character but it had been such a long time for Anakin to be with Obi-Wan. “I'm thankful”, Anakin paused to think of everything he had wanted to say but never did before. “I know you have it tough, with…everything, but I'm here for you, Master. We're a team." 

I want to make things right this time, for both of us. And for everyone I care about, he thought.

It was in the Clone Wars when Anakin had learned how deep Qui-Gon's death had hurt his master. The deep depression he had gone through alone. Anakin had felt guilty, not realizing how much Obi-Wan had gone through all alone.

But he can change that. This was just the first step.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan's tone made Anakin flinch. He sounded... almost broken. "Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmured. Obi-Wan's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "It means more than you know, my Padawan.”

Had Anakin made Obi-Wan's depression worse before? When he was younger? Anakin might have promised himself not to dwell on the past but it was hard not too. Guilt pooled into stomach.

As they sat down to eat, Obi-Wan looked as if he wanted to say something. It wasn't till they were almost done eating did his master ask, “When you passed out, did you see something? When you were in the Healing Rooms you kept mumbling different things. Nothing really made sense."

“Yes… but I'm not ready yet.” He said, looking at the plate. Not ready to lie to you yet. “But soon.”

Obi-Wan's hand reached over to grab his, “Take your time, I am here to listen.”

Anakin smiled and nodded. 

This… this was worth the do over.

Chapter Text

Anakin was trying, but sitting down and writing was proving to be more difficult than he thought. He kept squirming and losing focus. Anakin growled as he looked down at the dataPad.

There was a list of different battles of the Clone War, in the best order he could remember. From one of his first battles with Admiral Trench to Malevolence to Umbara and last to the final battle with Count Dooku. But, he had shifted his focus to something else.

The players; Grievous, Dooku, Ventress, Maul, and Savage Opress.

Anakin knew much of Dooku's past. That wasn’t the hard one. The fallen Jedi idealist, whose eyes never turn gold, his great-grandmaster.

On the other hand, he knew little of Grievous’ past, other than being Warlord from Kalee. He had chosen to get cybernetics to try and be stronger than a Jedi. The same could be said of Maul and Savage Opress. Maul had been a Sith apprentice. The Zabrak's sheer determination to cling to life through the Dark Side was both unsettling and oddly admirable. It reminded him so much of himself in his own Fall. Savage, Maul’s brother, had been transformed into a monster by the Nightsisters. That was the most Anakin knew of him.

Then there was Ventress. Anakin paused, the stylus in his hand hovering over the datapad. She was the most complex of them all, in his opinion. Once she had been training to be a Jedi, then an apprentice to Dooku, and later something else entirely. A wandering force of vengeance and tragedy. Anakin couldn’t quite decide how to classify her. Was she truly a villain? Or just someone who had been wronged too many times? 

She deserved a chance.

Anakin flinched at the thought. It was almost scary that he could understand their point of view, especially about people he hadn't thought twice about attacking them.

In Anakin's slight distress, he accidentally opened his bond with Obi-Wan a bit.

Since Anakin had traveled to the past, he had kept a wall between his and Obi-Wan’s bond. At first, Anakin didn't even realize he was even doing it. As Vader, at any given time, the bond was always closed. Sometimes, one of them would reach for the other, only for the other lock himself away. But their bond had never broken.

Sith Hells, when Obi-Wan died, their bond became muffled. Not gone, but nowhere Anakin could reach it.

But now, Anakin found himself hesitating to fully open the bond. The fear of history repeating itself, of losing Obi-Wan once again, lingered in the back of his mind. And if he let Obi-Wan in, the older Jedi might know something was off. What would he do?

Anakin was about closed the bond again, when he felt Obi-Wan reach back.

Obi-Wan’s reassurance and calming presence washed over him, and it eased Anakin's anxiety. The familiarity of Obi-Wan's connection was a balm to his soul.

Is everything okay, dear one? Anakin heard through their bond.

Anakin took a moment to compose himself before responding through their bond. Everything is fine, Master. Just…thinking.

Obi-Wan's concern lingered, but he seemed to respect Anakin's need for privacy. If you need to talk I'll be back in an hour or so.

Anakin sent his appreciation to Obi-Wan. Are we still going to Dex's? He asked.

When he felt Obi-Wan's affirmation, he let the bond drift. He didn't close it again, but left a small part free to be. He refocused on the dataPad in front of him.

Anakin had made a decision. During the war, he hated Dooku and Ventress without much thought. But, Anakin couldn’t keep that hatred, now knowing what the dark side truly is, and how easy it is to become lost in it. 

He had to try and save them from the dark side, from their fates.

Just like how his son did for him.

Luke, Anakin thought with a smile. In this life, Anakin would raise his son. And his daughter. Leia, at first it was hard to believe that she was his daughter. However, after some time he could see it. She looked a lot like Padme but she was her father's daughter. But, should he risk it? Padme's death had been the last straw. He didn't want that to happen again.

Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Obi-Wan entering the room. Obi-Wan observed Anakin's focused expression as he quietly approached. "What are you working on, Anakin?”

Anakin jumped, but quickly composed himself. He quickly minimized the dataPad screen, as he answered. "Just organizing some historical data," Anakin replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "You know,  for school."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he grabbed his cloak from the hanger next to the door. 

When Anakin just stared at him, his master just gave him a look. “Well, am I going to Dex's alone?” 

Anakin beamed.

Dex’s Dinner’s food was trash, unhealthy, and greasy. 

And it was Anakin's favorite place to eat. 

He could just barely remember his first time coming here. It had been about three months since he came to the temple. He had still not gotten used to his new life, and was becoming more and more frustrated as the days went on. One day, after Anakin a failed meditation, again, Obi-Wan had taken him here.

It had reminded him of the cantinas on Tatooine, the neon lights, loud voices, and same time of people. It was so different from the calm and drowning feeling at the temple. It was chaotic yet still oddly comforting, like the orphan building's on Tatooine. The kids had always been running around and yelling, but those were the signs of the Masters not being mad. As long as you could hear the children, it was a good day.

It still felt like that, Anakin thought as he walked in with Obi-Wan. It was nice here, not as suffocating as the temple. 

Just as Anakin was about to relax into flow of the room, he heard. “ANI!” 

Before Anakin could react, two pairs of strong arms had lifted him in the air and were spinning him. 

Anakin froze for a second, fight or flight kicking in. But he was able to relax and laughed out “Dex!”

The besalisk laughed as he set the padawan down, “It's good to see you kid, feels like it's been forever!”

Anakin could feel Obi-Wan's eye roll, “You two met for the first time last week.”

"But it feels like forever ," Dex exclaimed with a grin, his four arms gesturing dramatically. Anakin couldn't help but chuckle at the Besalisk's theatricality. He had almost forgotten what Dex was like, which was a horrifying thought.

Dex led the two to a booth, "Now, what can I get for my favorite Jedi pair today?"

Anakin glanced at the menu, his eyes lighting up as he saw his favorite dish. "I'll take the trash plate with extra cheese, please."

Obi-Wan chuckled, "I'll have a salad, Dex. Keep it on the lighter side.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, "Come on, Master, you get that all the time. Live a little. It won't hurt.”

Obi-Wan glared at him without any heat, which caused Anakin to laugh. If Anakin remembered right, after the first time they had eaten here, Obi-Wan had gotten sick. Apparently he ate something he was allergic to. He still didn't know what had caused reaction.

But Anakin and Obi-Wan kept coming back. Even in the war. They had even started to bring Asoka, Rex, and Cody here. Force, he couldn't wait till they were all together again.

To be a family again.

Anakin waited until their food arrived to speak again. He took a breath and started the first step of his plan.

“I had a vision.”

Obi-Wan paused from eating his salad, giving Anakin his whole attention. 

“Well,” Anakin needed to be careful of his words. It wouldn't surprise him if Obi-Wan told the council about this. “A lot of visions actually.”

Obi-Wan didn't say anything, so Anakin took that as a sign to continue. “In one of them, I saw someone and their padawan, I think. They were in danger, and one of them died. I think it was the master, because the padawan-”

“Anakin,” A hand fell onto his own, causing Anakin to cut himself off and look up. “You don't have to go on.” Obi-Wan said gently, his thumb rubbing Anakin's hand. 

Anakin smiled in reassurance, “No, I'm okay it's just-” Anakin took a deep breath and continued, “They hurt her, and she will be so scared and afraid.” Anakin looked into Obi-Wan's eyes. “She will Fall.”

The older jedi did not respond right away, but he looked deep in thought. Then he sighed, “This is most troubling, do you have any idea who it is?”

"I did some research,” Anakin started, but Obi-Wan snorted, cutting him off .

"You, researched?” Obi-Wan's eyes were filled with humor and just pure brightness. They reminded Anakin of the Lir Lake on Alderaan, a beautiful blue that reflied the sky-

The happiness in Anakin seemed to pop and disappear within him. Alderaan, and the voices of millions crying out for just a few moments before silence. Vader didn't care, not even when the Princess, unknown to him, his own daughter, cried out. It was just more pain added to his own. The past was haunting him, for what he had done. He was a monster-

“-akin? Anakin!” Anakin blinked and looked up at his master. His eyes had returned to their normal looking blue. Obi-Wan looked worried. Shit. How long had Obi-Wan been calling him?

When Obi-Wan noticed he had Anakin's attention back, he asked. “Anakin, are you sure you're alright? You seemed lost for a moment.” 

Anakin shook his head to clear the lingering thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got caught up in my head."

Obi-Wan studied Anakin for a beat before nodding. "Alright then, tell me about your research.”

Anakin took a breath, refocusing, “I believe that master was Ky Narec on the planet Rattatak”

“Master Narec..?” Obi-Wan spoke softly, a hand stroking his baby beard. “I remember him, he was a friend of Master Qui-Gon.”

Anakin just ate his food as he watched Obi-Wan think. Obi-Wan's expression grew more serious as he thought. “What do you know about Master Narec?”

The eleven year old blinked a few times, not expecting that question. “Um,” Anakin tried to remember as much as he could, “His last mission was to investigate a group of pirates who were stealing children from the Core worlds.” Anakin tried not to let his bitterness blend with his words. Because the Core Worlds children were worth so much more than the Outer Worlds. 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan's hand had returned to grip his hand. Anakin stared at it until he realized that his thought had traveled through their bond. 

"Sorry," Anakin muttered, breaking the brief silence. He didn't know what else to say. He looked down and poked his empty tray.

“No.”

Anakin looked up, surprised, “...what?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “There is too much focus on the Core Worlds, sometimes it feels like we forget that we are supposed to protect all worlds.”

Anakin stared at his master. Had Obi-Wan ever said that in the past? It wasn’t completely out of his character, and there was a war going on to focus on. And after the war…well… there wasn’t much time or resources. 

Maybe, Anakin was already making a difference.

Obi-Wan looked at his, now asleep, Padawan. Anakin had his arms crossed and was resting his head on them. Anakin nodded off shortly after he ate.

“Little windstorm asleep huh?” A voice asked behind him, and Obi-Wan turned his head to look at the older Besalisk. 

Obi-Wan hummed, noticing something in one of Dex’s hands. “Is that for me?”

“Yup” The Besalisk said, placed a cup of Caf onto the table. “You look tired Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan sighed deeply, but didn't respond back. They both knew he hadn't slept.

The dinner owner looked at the sleeping eleven year old. “Did something happen to the kid? You keep lookin' at him like hes goin' shatter.”

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment explaining a brief summary of what had happened that awful day.

It had been terrifying. 

They were sparing with the training blades. Anakin had been in a bad mood, not listening to what Obi-Wan was saying. Obi-Wan was ashamed to admit that he wasn’t much better. Anakin, while not meaning to, had been projecting his mood throughout the room. The air had crackled with tension, like the training room was unable to contain the emotional turmoil that was Anakin. 

Obi-Wan had gotten a good hit in, with a little too much force. Anakin had fallen. Anakin had just rolled his eyes and gotten up. Obi-Wan had turned around and made some dumb, stupid comment about Anakin not trying hard enough. 

Then he felt it. A cold that filled the room, feelings of fear and confusion echoed into the room. It was a sharp pain in his heart.

Obi-Wan spun around to look at Anakin and froze. 

Anakin was swaying where he stood, blood trailing from his nose. Anakin slowly raised a hand to touch a blood trail and stare at his now bloody hand. Anakin had wide scared eyes that looked into Obi-Wan. 

He tried to reach for Obi-Wan with a shaking hand, and Obi-Wan could feel the reach for him in the Force.

But before Obi-Wan could have reacted, Anakin's eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he had started to fall. 

Obi-Wan had been able to catch him before hit the ground. Obi-Wan cradled Anakin in his arms, panic gripping his heart. Even though Anakin was unconscious, he had sensed Anakin's distress through the Force, an overwhelming wave of fear and pain. Obi-Wan had felt his own fear mix into the room.

He carefully laid Anakin on the ground, trying to find what was wrong when his ears started to bleed. 

Obi-Wan had just yelled out for a guard, or anyone, to get a Healer, when Anakin started to scream.

It wasn't a scream of pain, but one of pure terror. A gut-wrenching sound that echoed in the training room. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's anguish reverberating in the room. 

Obi-Wan clutched Anakin close to him, trying to project comfort through their bond but it didn't seem to work. Anakin's screams seemed to intensify, Obi-Wan helplessly held onto Anakin tighter. The Healer rushed in and it seemed to blur after that, as more healers started to come in and surrounded Anakin. 

As the Healers started to whisper to each other, Anakin's eyes snapped open, revealing a mix of fear and confusion. Obi-Wan had immediately gone back to his apprentice’s side. Anakin clutched at Obi-Wan's robes, like he was seeking comfort in the only anchor he knew. The room seemed to vibrate with a strange energy, but Obi-Wan was focused on Anakin.

Anakin was panting hard, looking around the room confused.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan had called him, causing Anakin's eyes to snap to his own. 

“Obi...Wan...?” His voice was rough from the screaming. “I'm…sorry”. And then his head fell back, unconscious. 

Obi-Wan looked at Dex as he told the story. Dex's brow furrowed with concern as he thought about the information given to him.

“Gods, Obi-Wan, that's…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “I don't think it's your fault. Whatever happened had something to do with your Jedi Voodoo. You said you felt something when he collapsed?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I felt…something… through the Force. Something that seemed to grip Anakin's very being.” It was something Obi-Wan had never felt in the Force. Powerful and ancient, but somehow felt like Anakin.

Dex shrugged, “You said he was special right? Maybe it has to do with that?”

Obi-Wan didn't answer, just taking the final sip of his tea. He had been drinking while he had been talking,

Dex had placed a hand on his shoulder and muttered, “He’s a strong kid, Obi, and he has the best person to guide him.” 

Obi-Wan smiled genuinely for the first time in days and thanked his friend. Then Dex had shuffled off to close his restaurant, leaving Obi-Wan alone with his thoughts and Anakin.

In the end, it was unique, and far beyond Obi-Wan's understanding. As long as it doesn't continue to hurt Anakin, they don't have to worry about it.

Obi-Wan placed some credits on the table. Dex lets them eat for free because Jedi didn't have personal money, but Obi-Wan normally ended up tipping a good amount. Then he had carefully picked up his sleeping apprentice.

While Anakin was hitting a growth spurt, he was still far too skinny. Not due to a lack of trying on Obi-Wan's part, but none of these food seem to take. Obi-Wan securely tucked the eleven year old to his side, Anakin's head resting on the older man's shoulder.

As Obi-Wan walked back to the temple, he looked at his sleeping apprentice.

“Sleep well, Anakin,” he whispered, “I'll be here for you.” Protecting and teaching Anakin may have been Qui-Gon's wish, but Obi-Wan made it his own. He truly cared for the boy, something that dangerously bordered on attachment, but Obi-Wan didn't care.

He was going to be there for Anakin, and do his best to keep him safe. 

Even if he died trying.

Chapter Text

Anakin had almost forgotten why he hated the school at the Jedi temple.

Almost.

When he was sent back to classes the next day, he was swiftly reminded.

Anakin wasn't a part of a crèche, which made him a natural outsider. He also was placed with younglings, all younger than him. Another thing that made her different. Most were jealous of Anakin, for multiple reason. One of which was already having a master. Most younglings went to the Jedi Service Corps, which many of which didn't like.

It also didn't help that the teacher seemed to dislike Anakin as much as he disliked her. She seemed to have some preconceived thought about him. More than likely influenced by rumors. 

Taking a deep breath, Anakin found a seat in the back of the room, trying to blend in as much as possible. However, it wasn't long before the instructor, Master Yarael Poof, a Quarren woman, noticed him.

"Ah, Young Skywalker," Master Yarael Poof tone carried a disapproving edge. "Back from your unexpected absence, I see. Let's hope you won't make a habit of disappearing.” 

Anakin bit back a retort, choosing to nod silently in acknowledgment. It wouldn't be good to get in trouble now. But, it was so hard to keep in check. To fight his instant to bite and claw the other woman.

Master Poof continued the lesson, her gaze lingering on Anakin from time to time, as if expecting him to disrupt the class. In past life, Anakin had done just that. Now, he had to try and be better.

So, he sat quietly. Even when the younglings around him whispered around him or when they glanced or glared at him. 

As the lesson seemed to crawl on and on. Anakim couldn't stop himself from becoming distracted. One of the few lessons Palpatine that Anakin could agree with is that knowledge is power. He wasn't learning anything here. The Jedi libraries would definitely have something. And he would have time until Obi-Wan got out of his meeting with the council.

Temples, archives, holocrons, they were all something that needed to be considered. As well as ideas on how to get evidence on...Palpatine. The name made me shutter. He had been carefully avoiding the topic in his head.

As soon as the lesson ended, and Master Poof assigned homework, Anakin bolted. He made a beeline for the library. Which was something he would have never would have done in his past life. 

But this was a desperate time. He needed information for the future. 

However, it wasn't long before Anakin felt something in the force. It was like a soft echo or a distant murmur. Not weak, but…soft. 

Anakin stopped to look around him but didn't see anything. The Force signature was still around him though.

However before he could investigate, he heard something off to the side. It sounded like laughter, but had an edge to it. Almost a cruel tone. When he turned the corner, the scene in front of him caught him off guard.

There was a group of four boys, a little older than Anakin, who were laughing and pushing around someone who was in the middle.

After a flash of blue skin, he knew who it was.

Aayla Secura.

Unconsciously, Anakin's hands balled up as he watched.

In his past life, Anakin would have just rushed in and started yelling and threw himself into a fight. Hurt the boys who hurt her.

But, something he had learned as Vader…

It was good to use Fear sometimes.

He walked slowly to the group, pulling the Force around him like a cape, making sure they couldn't hear or sense him. However, as soon as he was about ten feet away from them, he let his Force signature spread throughout the hallway. It was almost like a shadow that loomed over them.

Everyone in the hall suddenly froze as Anakin's Force presence enveloped them.

Aayla was the first to see him.  

When they made eye contact, Anakin smiled and wink. She frowned in confusion. He didn't want to scare him. 

Anakin started to approach them again with measured steps, face falling neutral again. He only stopped a few feet away this time, allowing the weight of the Force to linger.

"Is there a problem here?" Anakin's voice, calm and controlled, cut the air.

The ringleader, Anakin assumed, glared at him. “W-what do you want, slave boy?” He was trying to hide it, but he was scared. 

Anakin's eyes narrowed but he kept his composure. His gaze flickered between the boys, and then settled on the ringleader. The Force pulsed around him, almost like a silent warning.

"I want you to leave her alone," Anakin replied evenly.

The other boys exchanged uneasy glances, but the ringleader scoffed nervously. "She's none of your business.”

Anakin's expression remained impassive, but the Force continued to hum around him. "Maybe it's time you rethink that," Anakin suggested calmly.

“Y-yeah?” The ringleader walked right up to Anakin. “What are you going to do about it?”

Anakin just tilted his head and smiled, which made the other boy even more mad. 

“I think you're filled with bantha shit!” He raised his voice, shoving Anakin.

Anakin's gaze remained steady, unwavering, his composure untouched, smile unyielding. He knew he was unsettling the others which only made his smile harder.

Just as the ringleader was almost to shove him again, a stern voice echoed through the hallway. "What is the meaning of this?”

Master Librarian Jocasta Nu was standing at the end of the hallway, her face stern. 

The ringleader backed away from Anakin and started stammering, attempting to come up with an explanation. "Master Nu, we were just..."

Master Nu raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the boys. "Save your excuses for your Masters. You know better than to engage in such behavior.” Master Nu turned her attention to Aayla. "Are you alright, Padawan Secura?"

Aayla nodded, a mixture of relief and gratitude in her expression. "Yes, Master Nu. Skywalker intervened.”

Anakin blinked in surprise. He didn't think she knew his name at the moment.

Master Nu's gaze shifted to Anakin, "Anakin Skywalker, I presume. I am thankful for your interference.”

Anakin nodded, “It's no issue, Master.”

Master Nu studied him a few seconds longer before returning to look at Aayla. “You are bleeding, young Secura.”

Anakin looked at the other padawan. Sure enough, she had a small cut on her forehead with a bruise forming around it. Anakin turned his head slowly to glare at the group of boys. They all seemed to shrink back.

“Padawan Skywalker, would you please escort Padawan Secura to the Healer Rooms?” Master Nu's voice caused him to look back at the other two.  

Aayla started to object, “I don't need-”

“Padawan Secura please,” The librarian interrupted, “I know of your habit of “mysteriously” disappearing before making it to the Healers.”

Aayla opened her mouth but then closed it. She glared down at the floor.

Anakin nodded, gesturing for Aayla to follow him. As they walked away from the scene, Anakin could finally relax. He was worried how would do confrontations without reaching into the dark side, but that had gone...fine.

After some time, Aayla spoke up quietly "You didn't have to do that."

Anakin shrugged, "Nobody should be treated like that. It's not right."

Aayla shot him a curious look. “Most people wouldn't risk stepping in like that" She sounded almost suspicious. "Especially for someone they don't even know."

Anakin met her gaze, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Well, I get being different. They target you because of your master, right?”

Aayla looked away from Anakin. He knew he hit a sore point. 

Aayla and himself didn't have their first meeting until Anakin was seventeen and Aayla had already been knighted. It had been during a mission. Anakin had only gained her friendship after he saved her life. She had a deep cut to her side, and had been delirious with blood loss. She had kept calling her master name and begging not to go. 

Then the very next time they saw each other at the temple, she dragged him to her room. She had been quiet for a while, then she had talked about her master and her attachment to him. He could remember her whispering, as if she was scared Jedi would appear out of the shadows. He could also remember thinking how wrong this was.

How could it be right for anyone to be this scared to have a connection to another.

Even now, Anakin still believed in attachments. He would just have to be more careful.

Aayla sigh brought him back to the present, “That, and the fact I'm Twi'lek.”

Anakin hummed. Twi'leks were one of the most inslave species in the galaxy, along with Wookiees and Togruta. Aayla had been looked down more then once or twice because of that. And called a "tail head slave girl” a few other times by their peers. That was why Aayla dressed herself with less modest clothes in future. It didn’t matter how she looked, she was still a Jedi.

Anakin shrugged as they reached the Healing Hall, "Well, I don't care, and you shouldn't either. They're just dumb kids.” 

Before Aayla could respond to him, one of the Healers came up to them. He took a quick look at them before assigning a droid to tend to Aayla's cut.

As the droid worked, Aayla spoke up. "You know, you're not as bad as people say.”

"Don't tell others that," Anakin replied with a teasing grin. "I have a reputation to uphold."

Aayla laughed. It was a light, genuine laugh that made Anakin smile despite himself. It shone in the Force. It was rare to see anyone at the Temple truly relax like that, especially around him. He knew his reputation, the Choose One, the one who was far to old to be a padawan, followed him like a shadow, and most of the time, he didn’t care. But hearing Aayla laugh made him realize how much he missed simple connections like this.

"Well, your secret's safe with me," Aayla said, grinning back at him. "Though I think you'll need to work harder to scare me off."

Anakin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "We'll see. I can be pretty terrifying when I want to be."

"Sure," Aayla replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm cornered by some bullies."

The droid finished cleaning and dressing Aayla's cut, and the healer came over to inspect the work. "You'll be fine," the healer said. "Just try not to get into any more trouble."

After the healing droid completed its task, Aayla hopped off the examination table with a smile. "I never did thank you for the save back there."

Anakin gave her a mock salute, "Anytime, Padawan Secura."

With a chuckle, Aayla nodded, "Good to know. We should grab a meal sometime, whenever I'm in the temple."

Anakin gave her a wide smile, " Sure, I love-“

"ANAKIN“ and "AAYLA“ were yelled at the same time, causing the two padawans to freeze.

Obi-Wan wasn't running down the hall, but he was rushing. The Jedi beside him wasn't much better.

Master Quinlan Vos was definitely younger when Anakin had last seen him. His locks were shorter too. Vos‘ presence in the force was a like a beast in the force. It was hard to make out at the time. If the Force could be seen as still body of water, it was a beast that made ripples of excitement within it. Anakin couldn’t help but feel like a ticking time bomb waiting to ponce.

"Aayla, are you okay?” Vos had asked as soon he reached the two. 

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, it was just some kids.“ 

Anakin was waiting for Vos' response when Obi-Wan cleared his throat. He turned to his master. "What?” 

"Can't keep yourself out of trouble?” Obi-Wan asked but there wasn't any heat in it. He looked worried, more so then normal whenever Anakin got in trouble.

Anakin chuckled, "Trouble and I have an understanding, Master. It finds me, and I deal with it."

Obi-Wan sighed, but Anakin could swear there was a touch of fondness in it, "Just try not to attract too much of it."

Quinlan Vos grinned, "Obi-Wan here used to be quite the troublemaker in his youth too."

Obi-Wan shot Vos a pointed look, "And yet, somehow, I managed to grow out of it.”

Anakin grinned, "Well, Master Obi-Wan, I'll make sure to keep the legacy alive.”

Obi-Wan groaned as Master Vos laughed. Vos grinned, "I like this one, Obi. He's got spirit."

His master just shook his head with a smile, "He's definitely spirited. Come along, Anakin. There is something I wish to discuss."

Anakin glanced at Aayla, who gave him an encouraging nod, before turning back to Obi-Wan. “Alright, Master. Lead the way.”

As they walked, Anakin tried to gauge Obi-Wan's mood. He seemed calm but pensive. That usually meant one of two things: either Obi-Wan was planning to give him a lecture or there was something serious he wanted to discuss. Anakin braced himself for both.

Once they were far enough from the Healer Hall, Obi-Wan finally spoke. “You handled that situation with the younglings better than I expected.”

Anakin blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. “Thank you, Master.”

“I noticed you didn’t let your temper get the better of you,” Obi-Wan continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re learning.”

Anakin shrugged, trying to downplay the compliment. “I just didn’t think fighting them would solve anything. They were just kids being stupid.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “A mature perspective. I’m impressed.”

Anakin felt a flicker of pride but quickly squashed it. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to think he was getting a big head. Again. “So, what did you want to discuss?”

Obi-Wan’s expression grew more serious. “I've talked to the Council about your vision."

Anakin stiffened at the mention of his vision. He had expected Obi-Wan to bring it up eventually, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so soon. "What did they say?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“They’re… skeptical,” Obi-Wan admitted, his tone cautious. “As you might expect, the Council is wary of visions, but they have agreed to send someone to investigate."

Anakin smiled faintly. He was happy that they did listen, but... They wouldn't believe the sun rose in the east if it wasn't in the Code, Anakin thought bitterly. "Who did they send?"

"The Council has decided to send Master Plo Koon to investigate discreetly. He’ll handle this with the care it requires." 

Anakin blinked, surprised. Master Plo Koon was one of the few Jedi he genuinely respected. If anyone could uncover the truth, it was him. 

Obi-Wan lips quirked into a faint smile, "Now, I was coming to see if you waited to dual today. Unless you have something else to do."

Anakin paused, thinking out his plans in the library. He could always sneak out and do it later. He smiled at Obi-Wan and nodded enthusiastically.

CT-7567 dreams of the Stars. 

It was rare to see them on Kamino, the storms rarely let up and it was still a good chance it was daytime when it did. 7567 had only seen them twice in his short life. Before that, he only heard of them in passing- stories from the trainers or the long necks. But those two times had been wonderous. 

The way the stars seemed to stretch endlessly, glittering against the black canvas of the sky. It was unlike anything 7567 had ever experienced. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of scale beyond the sterile, rain-soaked walls of Kamino. They were promises of something greater. 

He wanted to visit them all someday.

He had stood frozen the first time, his training forgotten as he looked out. His brothers had teased him, calling him star-struck. The instructor had been to quick reprimand him, snapping at him to focus and get back in formation. But the words barely registered. The stars held him captive, pulling at something deep inside him he didn’t fully understand yet.

The second time, he had been more prepared. It was during an exercise outside the main facility, late at night when the rain had paused briefly. He had managed to steal a moment alone, gazing up at the heavens while his brothers rested. The stars were different that night, but no less mesmerizing.

He still hadn't earned his name yet. Most of the others in his Batch had already. Kote said it was okay, though. That his name would be special. 7567 hoped it would be related to the stars.

When he slept, he dreamed of them. Of an endless void that surrounded him. It was peaceful and safe. which was rare in his life. In most of the Clone's life. 

In his Star-Dreams, he could swear he saw someone just barely visible. He, because he was sure it was a He, was difficult to make out. 7567 had tried so many ways to call out to Him, to get closer, but to no avail. Although, he thought did get closer to him each time. 

The person was hard describe. He always seem to be influx, changing one from from another. One time, he was like a shimmering figure of light, with stars embedded in his very being, as though he carried entire galaxies within him. Another time, he appeared as a towering shadow with burning eyes that pierced the void, exuding both menace and an odd sense of protection. Yet another time, he was cloaked in robes that seemed to flow like nebulae, ever-shifting and impossible to define. But most of the time, he was like the sun. 

Radiating warmth and light, yet impossible to look at directly. The figure seemed to hold the gravity of the universe within him, as though every star, every planet, every piece of existence revolved around his being. And yet, despite the immense power he exuded, there was a gentleness in his presence—a quiet promise that even in the vast, cold expanse of space, there was a place where 7567 could belong.

In these dreams, 7567 never felt fear. Even when the figure loomed large, shadowed and unknowable, there was no sense dread or foreboding.

But something had changed recently.

The Star-Figure had a new form. Like a blackhole he had read in his classes. It was a form of utter darkness, devoid of light, yet it seemed to pull at the very stars around him, as though they were being drawn into his center. It felt... self-destructive. 

There was nothing that 7567 could do but watch. But he hoped that one day, he be able to help his Star-Figure. Somehow. Hells, he would probably more loyal to him then any Jetii that he was assigned to.

Chapter Text

Anakin probably spent less time in the library than in any other room in the Temple. Back then, spending time with scholars wasn’t his idea of a good time. But since he had arrived, it had been the best way for him to plan. 

Sure, he had ideas on how to handle the future military leaders of the Separatists, but there was so much more than that. His mother was one of those factors. He could still feel the weight of her absence like a phantom pain, a constant reminder that time was running out. Somewhere out there, she was still in danger, and sitting in the archives wasn’t exactly helping her. But rushing in blindly wouldn't either. He had to be smarter, smarter than he used to be.

He knew he also had only one real option here, but he didn't know how to feel about talking to her again. The only real politician he had as a friend, not counting Palpatine- 

Padmé.

The thought of her brought a complicated tangle of emotions. Relief, affection, guilt. She was one of the few people who had always believed in him, even when he barely believed in himself. But he hadn’t seen her yet-and he wasn’t sure he wanted too. It still hurts just to think of her.

But if he was going to do this right, if he was going to change things, truly change them, he couldn’t avoid the people who mattered most.

Anakin exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he sat back in his chair. The holoscreen in front of him listed recent political movements across the Core Worlds, something he really needed learn about. But he knew that even if a hundred years past, he still wouldn't understand subtleties of politics. Not without help. Which was why his attention was focused letterPad in his lap. 

LetterPads worked as private communication devices- much more secure than standard channels. They were used for messages that weren't meant to be overheard by anyone else. Cost a bit of credits but it was worth it. He had been able to sneak out and grab one last night. 

When Anakin had come to the temple in his first life, Anakin had saved as much credits as he could get. Habbit from his time on Tatooine. But now he would need much more.

He stared at the blank screen, thumb hovering over the activation button. What was he even supposed to say? Hi Padmé, it’s Anakin. I’m back from the future and need your help saving the galaxy? Somehow, he didn’t think that would go over well.

He sighed and thought about the other letter he wanted to send. While no less complexed of a relationship, it was easier then this.

Dooku.

Count Dooku, Darth Tyranus, future architect of the Clone Wars... and once, not so long ago, a Jedi Master respected by many- including Obi-Wan. If he could get him on his side, rather then Palpatine, it would be a huge help.

He was just about to start typing something when a cough interrupted him. Anakin looked up to see Master Nu watching him with a knowing smile. "I must say, Knight Skywalker, from what I heard, I never thought I'd see the day you spent more than an hour in the Archives."

Anakin gave her a sheepish grin. "Desperate times, Master."

She chuckled, then stepped closer, peering at the mass of information he'd gathered. "Looking into Outer Rim politics and trade movements? That's ambitious."

Anakin hesitated for a moment, debating how go about. He didn't trust her no to go talking to the Council about this. They alway loved to analyze his every move. 

"My Master has me lookinglooking into long-term strategies," Anakin said smoothly, keeping his voice light. "He thinks I need to understand the political side of things better if I'm ever going to be of real help in the field."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Obi-Wan probably would approve if Anakin showed a sudden interest in politics, he just didn't need to know the real reasons.

Master Nu raised a skeptical brow, but she smiled all the same. "About time someone taught you that wars aren't won with lightsabers alone."

"I’m starting to realize that," Anakin said, managing a half-smile. "Knowledge is power."

"Indeed it is," she said approvingly. "If you need assistance navigating the archives, don't hesitate to ask. The right information at the right time can change the course of history."

Anakin nodded, filing away her words. The right information at the right time. That was exactly what he was counting on.

Master Nu moved on, leaving him alone again with his swirling thoughts.

He quickly turned his focus back to the LetterPad in his hand. Padmé first. Then Dooku.

Simple. Formal.

Ms. Amidala,

I don't really know how to write this letter, or any letter really. I don't even know if you remember me. But I'm the boy Tatooine who won their freedom in a pod race. I hope you're doing well. I heard you finished your term as Queen. I wish this letter was only about a congratulation, but I have a favor to ask. A big one.

 I have been training to become a Jedi, as you know. And Jedi don't have money, rules about greed and stuff, and aren't supposed to form attachments. But you probably know that already. My favor to you is to free my mother. I don't have the money to free her nor any opportunity to go to Tatooine myself to do anything. If you can, l ask you to free my fiends Kitster and Wald as well, but my mother is top priority. I would do this when I would be Knighted, but I'm scared that it would be too late.

I beg you to do this, and I will owe you for a lifetime.

Please, you're my only hope.

-Anakin Skywalker, the boy who won his freedom

Short. Non-threatening. Enough to get her attention without raising suspicion.

He pressed 'send' before he could second-guess himself. He sighed when it was a weight lifted from his shoulder. Then he opened a second message- this one even harder to frame. He didn’t know exactly where Dooku stood at this point. Disillusioned with the Jedi, yes, but not yet fully Palpatine’s creature. He had a chance, if he was careful.

Anakin thought hard before typing:

Master Dooku,

I hope you will pardon the intrusion. My name is Anakin Skywalker, Padawan to Kenobi. But the Jedi who brought me to the temple was Master Qui-Gon. He told me stories of you. I find myself lost within the Temple walls, and I am in need of guidance.

I have questions, questions about the Jedi Order, about the galaxy, and about the future that I cannot seem to reconcile with what I’ve been taught here. I don't know how to talk to my Master about any of these. My heart tells me there is something more to the Force than what we have been told. Something more than what I see, something I feel. Perhaps you can shed light on these uncertainties.

I ask for no favors, but simply a conversation, should you be willing. I’m not seeking trouble, but answers. I look forward to any insight you may be able to offer.

-Padawan Anakin Skywalker

He hesitated a moment longer after typing it. It was a risk- reaching out like this could easily backfire if Dooku chose to report him. But Anakin was gambling that the Count’s frustration with the Council and the Republic’s decay would outweigh his loyalty. If he could just get Dooku to listen, really listen, then maybe he could prevent everything that was coming.

He sent the message.

Another weight fell from his chest, but unease pooled in his gut, replacing it. It was done now. No turning back.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, staring up at the towering shelves of the Archives. Somewhere among all this dusty knowledge was the future he was trying to reshape, a thousand small decisions, any one of which could tip the balance.

He just had to hope he was making the right ones.

7567 never meant to get into fights. It just kept happening. He didn’t want to fight.

But trouble had a way of finding him. It wasn’t like he started anything, he just couldn’t walk away when someone shoved a rookie or jeered at one of the younger cadets.

Today had been no different. He was supposed to be heading to the shooting range for extra drills. Instead, he found himself pulling a sneering alpha-class off a cadet who hadn’t even grown into his armor yet. A punch was thrown. Then another. It escalated.

Now, he was in the medical bay, sitting stiffly on the edge of a cot, a bruised knuckle swelling beneath the thin layer of bacta gel. The harsh, sterile lights buzzed overhead. He scowled at the floor, jaw tight. Across the room, the cadet he’d defended sat with an ice pack pressed against his eye, looking anywhere but at him.

"You're lucky it’s just medbay time and not disciplinary drills," the medic muttered, slapping a bandage onto 7567 split brow with little sympathy. "Again."

7567 grunted. It wasn’t the punishment that bothered him. It was the way the instructors, and even some of the other clones, looked at him now. Like he was trouble. Like he couldn't be trusted to follow orders without getting his fists bloody first.

He didn’t want that reputation. He didn’t want any reputation. He just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.

The doors hissed open.

7567 felt himself curl in on himself as Cody walked in. He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up until he stood in front of him, arms folded across his chest. The silence stretched, long enough that 7567 could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"You done?" Cody asked, voice low but not angry. Just... tired.

7567 hesitated, then forced himself to nod. "Yes, sir."

"You keep fighting like this, you're going to get real good at patching yourself up." Cody sighed out, kneeling down in front of him  "But that’s not what you're here for."

7567 opened his mouth, then closed it again. What could he say? Sorry felt hollow. He deserved it sounded childish.

Cody tilted his head slightly, studying him, "You’re not wrong to step in," Cody said finally. "But you're going about it the wrong way. You think you're protecting your brothers?"

7567 blinked, unsure how to answer.

"You’re making yourself a target. And when you're the target, you can’t protect anyone."

The words hit harder than any punch today.

Cody was a year older then, and was in a different batch then him, but he always seemed to keep an eye out for the younger cadets. Especially the ones like 7567, the ones who didn’t quite fit neatly into the system Kamino had built for them.

"I know you think you’re helping," Cody went on, quieter now. "And maybe you are, for a second. But look around you, 7567. You’re one man. You get dragged into a fight, you’re out of commission. What happens to the kid you pulled that alpha off then?"

7567 glanced over at the younger cadet, who was still clutching the ice pack. His stomach twisted.

Cody rested a hand on his knee, not scolding, not punishing. A reminder he wasn’t alone, even if it felt like it sometimes.

"You’re strong. You’ve got good instincts. That’s why you’re still standing," Cody said. "But if you want to really protect them, you’ve gotta be smarter than this."

7567 ducked his head. "I just... I don’t like bullies," he muttered.

"I know," Cody said simply. "Neither do I."

Cody’s hand squeezed his knee once, firm but steady, before he stood again. "C'mon, vod'ika, lets get you some sleep."

7567 didn’t argue. The fight had burned the rest of his energy out of him, leaving behind only a dull ache in his muscles and a heavier one in his chest.

He slid off the cot carefully, wincing a little as he followed Cody out into the sterile Kaminoan hallways. He hoped he dreamed of his Star-Figure tonight.

The void felt almost a comfort to Anakin now. It was like floating in an ocean, with the black  Anakin now. It was like floating in an ocean, with the black stretching endlessly around him- no up, no down, no weight, no sound. Just stillness.

He felt like a ghost, drifting without purpose. Without form.

The pain was still there, somewhere. A dull, far-off thing, muted by the vastness around him. It didn't press against him like it used to. It simply existed, distant and inevitable, like the stars he couldn't see. Anakin wasn’t sure how long he floated like that. Minutes. Hours. A lifetime. Time had no meaning here. Only the endless black and the faint thrum of something deep inside him, something tethering him to the world he could no longer touch.

Of course, that was when he felt it. 

Something else with him, almost like a ripple.

It moved through the void like a current through still water, subtle but undeniable. Anakin would have blinked in confusion if he were sure he had a body. To be honest, as if he were stretching out into the void itself.

But as he focused on the ripple seemed to sharpen, becoming more than a feeling. It was a presence. Warm, in a way that the void wasn’t. Not blinding, not overwhelming. Just there, brushing against him. 

It helped him to feel more solid as well. Like he had a firm body as well, not just a thought adrift in endless nothing. Anchored.

He reached out and he reached out and touched it. Cupped into his hands. It felt like a tiny blue sun, pulsing gently against his palms. Warm, steady, alive.

The moment he made contact, the void around him seemed to change. Pinpricks of the light of stars came into focus as Anakin could start to feel himself now. A body, fragile and aching, but real. Breath he hadn’t known he’d lost shuddered through him.

And the blue sun, it didn’t burn. It cradled him. Like how a master might guide a youngling's first swings of a lightsaber or how a mother might hold her child close, shielding them from the storm. Or how a lover kissed the tears away from a broken face.

It pulsed in his hands again, and Anakin became aware that it was curious about him. Anakin's brow furrowed slightly as he watched the blue light. It was... familiar, now that he was aware of it. 

It was something he’d known before, something that had always been there, just out of reach. He hadn’t felt it in years, not since the chaos of the war, not since everything had fractured into what it had become. But now, in this endless dark, it was here again.

His heart stilled in his chest.

The blue light seemed to recognize his hesitation. It pulsed again, gently this time, as if coaxing him forward. The light itself shifted in his hands, becoming more tangible. A shape emerged from it. Anakin tried to focus on it, but-

"Anakin?"

Anakin jolted away, jumping back from the hands that had been shaking him. The void had faded to show that he was still in the Archives. He must have fallen asleep. Anakin blinked a couple of times before looking up into the worried eyes of his master. Obi-Wan's hands were still on his shoulders, holding him steady. His expression was one of concern, his brow furrowed as he gazed at Anakin with a mixture of worry and something else.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated softly, "Is everything okay?"

Anakin blinked again, still trying to shake the lingering sensation of that warmth, the comfort of something... familiar. He nodded, the words struggling to form in his mouth.

“Yeah, Master,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse. “I’m fine. Just... a strange dream.”

Obi-Wan didn’t seem convinced, his hands still resting on Anakin’s arms. 

“You’ve been in the Archives for hours, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, though the concern remained. “You’ve been staring at the same hologram. Lost in thought. It’s unlike you to be this... distant.”

Anakin swallowed, trying to gather himself. The lingering sensation of that light, the pull of it, was still there. He couldn’t shake it for some reason. “I- I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said. “I must have drifted off... I’m not sure what happened.”

Obi-Wan gave him a searching look, but sighed and then gave him a soft smile. "You don't need to apologize, Anakin. I'm just worried. Are you sure you're alright?"

Anakin hesitated, unsure of how to explain the feeling gnawing at him. Or even if he should. In the end, it was best to keep to himself.  "I'm fine, Master. Really," Anakin said, forcing a reassuring smile as he stood up from the chair he had been sitting in. "Just... tired, I guess. It’s been a long few days."

Obi-Wan's expression didn't change, but Anakin could tell he was still worried. "I was planning to ask if you were up for a sparring session, but if you would like some rest instead that would be fine." 

Anakin shook his head. Even if the two of them were only using training sticks, it was better than doing nothing. He needed to focus on something, anything, to distract himself from the swirling thoughts in his head. "No, I think a spar would be good," he said, his voice steadier now. 

Obi-Wan regarded him for a moment longer, his gaze searching, but he didn’t press the issue. "Very well," he said, his tone mild but still carrying that familiar edge of concern. "Just don’t push yourself too hard."

Anakin nodded and followed Obi-Wan out of the room. But as he walked quietly after his Master, he stared at his hand, holding it in front of him like he was still holding something inside.

He had known that presence. Now that he had time to think, he knew who it was. It might have been a very long time since he had felt it, but Anakin could pick it out of a thousand different sensations. 

Rex.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks fell into a routine. 

It had been… manageable. Not peaceful, not entirely calm, but manageable. Anakin trained, sparred, and meditated when Obi-Wan insisted. He itched to do more, but there was nothing he could do but wait. 

His sleep had been dreamless for the most part, which he didn’t was a good or bad thing. Probably good, since he didn’t have any nightmares of… his past life. But he wanted to know what the blue sun was. He still didn’t know fully what to make of it; if it was Rex or not. But it felt safe. Warm. 

To be fair, everything at this point in this life had felt cold. Ever since Tatooine. It faded at different points, usually when he was with someone he loved like Padmé, Ahsoka, or Obi-Wan, when things were good . When he didn’t have to fight so hard to hold on to who he was. But even then, the cold was always there. Lurking. In his bones, in the back of his mind, in the silence between battles. He had grown used to it. Expected it. Sometimes, he even welcomed it- because it meant he didn’t have to feel anything else.

The warmth from the blue sun, though… it was different. Not a blazing heat, not something that burned like Mustafar or fury or grief. Just… a steady light. Gentle. Familiar. 

And frustrating, since he had no idea what it meant. He had no way to contact his… parent to ask what it was or why it happened. 

So Anakin did what he always did when he was frustrated: he went to the sparring. 

Obi-Wan was tied in another meeting, but Anakin still went anyway. Plus, he was still waiting to hear back from either Dooku or Padme. Each day that passed added to his frustration. He was starting to get a bit worried as well. Dooku worried him more than Padmé. He still had no idea where the older man stood at the moment. For all he knew, he could have an alliance with Sidious again already.

Anakin didn't have a lightsaber yet, but he was allowed to use the training sticks. He was planning to use some of the advanced Soresu sequences Obi-Wan had been drilling into him lately, mostly out of spite. Obi-Wan had said they were “useful for defense” and “important to master,” which in Anakin’s mind translated to “slow, boring, and frustrating.” But they did give him something to focus on besides the unanswered questions clawing at his brain.

But before he could start, he heard someone call his name. 

Anakin looked over, surprised. 

It was Aayla and two other young padawans. They looked familiar, but Anakin couldn’t place their names for the life of him. 

Aayla smiled when she saw him looking over and waved him over. He only hesitated a moment before going over to join them.

“Hey,” Aayla said brightly. “Didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

Anakin shrugged, trying not to show that he didn't get a wink of sleep last night. “Needed to hit something.”

One of the younger Padawans, a short-haired human girl, snorted. “Relatable.”

Aayla gave her a playful look but didn’t scold her. “We were about to run a few drills. Want to join us?”

Anakin hesitated. Normally, he’d prefer to train alone, fewer distractions, fewer chances to accidentally say or do the wrong thing. But lately, that isolation was starting to... lonely. And Aayla was easy to be around. She didn’t look at him like he was fragile or broken or a potential threat. She just… looked at him.

“Sure,” he said, after a beat. “Why not?”

She smiled brightly,  “Great!” She gestured to the other two. “This is Bultar Swan, and this here is Stass Allie. My friends”

Anakin never really had friends at the temple. Not one his own age, anyway. Other Padawans had always treated him like an outsider, too old, too different, too angry. And he had never trusted them enough to try to change that. Most of the time, it was just easier to keep to himself, to train harder, be better, prove himself.

But he was trying to be better now.  

Anakin nodded, spinning the training stick in his hands. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Bultar gave him a nod, her short hair bouncing slightly as she moved. “Heard you were fast,” 

Stass just offered a quiet smile. “We won’t go easy on you.”

Anakin huffed a breath through his nose, almost a laugh. “Good. I hate when people do.”

The next hour or so passed quickly, and Anakin is... having fun? It was strange. Anakin wasn’t used to having fun during training. Usually, it was about pushing himself to the limits, proving that he was better, faster, stronger. But here, it was just him, Aayla, Bultar, and Stass, working together, laughing, and sparring. They didn’t treat him like a weapon or a project or some kind of ticking time bomb. They were just… friends. And that feeling, while foreign, was almost enough to make him forget about everything else. For the first time in a long time, Anakin felt like he could breathe without that constant, gnawing tension in his chest.

Could he have had this in his past life?

He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed, really laughed, in training. He'd been so focused on proving himself that even moments of success felt hollow. But here, with Aayla, Bultar, and Stass, it wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about sharing an experience, like friends. Could he have been a part of something like this, where sparring wasn’t a means to an end, but just a way to pass the time, to enjoy the company of others? He shook the thought away before it could take root.

No. That wasn’t his life. His life was built on survival. No one wanted to be around him. Always too intense or too different. It wasn't until Anakin was a knight that others started to come around him.

They ended up talking about their masters.  

Bultar flopped onto the floor beside the others, still catching her breath after their final round. “Master Plo’s obsessed with drills. I swear, I spend more time practicing form than actually using it.”

Stass, seated cross-legged, nodded. “Master Adi’s the same. Every session starts with five minutes of silence and posture correction. I think she can sense if I even think about slouching.”

Aayla laughed and stretched out her legs. “At least yours doesn't believe in spontaneous training. Master Vos gave me a whole lecture last week on ‘finding balance through chaos.’ Then threw me into a swamp.”

That made Bultar choke on a laugh. “Is that what happened to your boots? They smelled like mildew.”

“They still do,” Stass muttered, covering her nose with a grin.

Anakin sat quietly at first, his training stick across his lap. Listening. Watching. But then Bultar turned to him, still grinning. “What about your Master? What’s Obi-Wan like when he’s not being all serious in council meetings?”

Anakin blinked, caught off guard. He wasn’t used to being included like this—like his input mattered.

“He’s… fine,” Anakin said, a bit flatly, then realized how that sounded. “I mean—he’s good. Just… really big on meditation. Says it’ll ‘help me stay centered.’”

Aayla snorted, "At least your Master is around. Right now, my master is working down in the lower levels of coruscant. Some Spice deal he didn’t want me to be involved with.” She shrugged, “Said it was too dangerous or something. But I think he just didn’t want me interfering with his ‘gut instinct.’ He always talks about ‘feeling the flow of the Force,’ but half the time, it feels like he just wings it and hopes for the best.”

Stass tilted her head. “But he gets results, right?”

Aayla sighed, half amused. “Unfortunately, yes. Which only makes him more insufferable.”

"Well, he is Quinlan Vos," came a dry voice from behind them.

Anakin turned, already knowing who it was before he even saw him. Obi-Wan stood near the archway to the training room, arms crossed. There was a faint look of amusement behind his eyes.

Aayla blinked and then laughed, not even pretending to look ashamed. “Master Kenobi. We were just talking about how wise and composed you are.”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan said mildly, stepping fully into the room. “I could sense your flattery from down the hall.”

Bultar and Stass scrambled up into more proper postures, but Obi-Wan only nodded politely to them before his gaze shifted to Anakin. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Anakin straightened a little. “Meeting over?”

Obi-Wan turned to Bultar. “Your Master has returned to the Temple. He’s looking for you.”

Bultar sighed, already standing. “Figures. Probably has another five hours of drills lined up.”

Obi-Wan's mouth twitched in faint amusement. “Then I’d suggest not keeping him waiting.”

She offered a quick salute and turned to Stass and Aayla. “I’ll see you both later. Anakin,” she added with a small nod, “you’re fast, but next time, I’m winning.”

Anakin smirked, just a hint of the old cockiness slipping through. “We’ll see.”

Stass followed close behind, murmuring a quiet goodbye. Aayla lingered for a moment, giving Anakin a sideways glance. “You’re welcome to train with us anytime, you know,” she said, voice casual but sincere. “It was fun.”

Anakin felt something tighten in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Or the unfamiliar ache of being wanted. He wasn’t used to that either.

“Thanks,” he said, quietly but genuinely.

Aayla gave him a light smile before walking off with a casual wave to both him and Obi-Wan.

Once they were alone, Anakin looked up at his master. "Did the Council find anything?"

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master Plo Koon was able to find Knight Narec thanks to your vision, and his Padawan." He seemed trouble at that, "The Council had no idea he had taken in one. Narec said he had been trying to get into contact with us, but the defenses on Rattatak blocked an ycommunications. He’d been cut off for years.”

Anakin frowned. “Was he able to get them?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Master Plo only made brief contact before the comms cut out. He had to leave the system before his ship was almost destroyed.” Obi-Wan sighed. “The planet is brutal and violent. Knight Narec went there to help settle a conflict. He ended up staying when he found a Force-sensitive child. A girl. Apparently, he couldn’t leave her there.” He paused. “Her name is Asajj.”

Anakin took a deep breath, trying not to let anything show. His plan was working. The name rang through his mind, but he quickly buried the thought.. This was it. The path he had worked so hard to find, the chance to rewrite the future that had cost him everything. He had the chance to save someone.

“It seems she’s strong,” Obi-Wan went on, watching Anakin carefully. “If not a little unstable. Understandably so, considering the conditions she grew up in. Narec trained her in secret, kept her hidden. He feared the Council would reject her… or worse, fear her.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “Why? Because she’s angry?”

Obi-Wan hesitated, and that alone told Anakin everything he needed to know. He wasn't that surprised “Because some believe she. She has a connection to the dark side, even if she doesn’t understand it.”

Anakin scoffed, standing up and grabbing his towel from the bench nearby. “So, another Jedi with too many emotions is a problem. Got it.”

“That’s not what I said,” Obi-Wan replied gently, but firm. “The Council is… divided. Some think she should be brought here, trained properly. Others worry she’s too far gone.”

“And you?” Anakin challenged, turning to face him fully. “What do you think?”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer right away. He looked at his young Padawan and sighed. “I think she deserves a chance. But she’s dangerous, Anakin. She’s been surviving on a battlefield since she was a child. Her first instinct is violence.”

“So was mine,” Anakin said quietly.

Obi-Wan winced, but didn’t deny it. “Yes. Which is why I’m telling you. Because if the Council decides to send someone to retrieve her, I’m going to volunteer.”

Anakin blinked. His heart started to beat fast. “You want me to go with you.” 

“I want you to see her. Meet her. I think… you might understand each other.”

Anakin didn’t reply at first. “I don’t have a lightsaber yet”

Obi-Wan smiled. And it was Anakin's favorite Obi-Wan smile. The one that look mischievous. "That is why the Council had agreed that it is time for you to receive your lightsaber, Anakin."

Anakin's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Are you serious?" In his past life, he wasn't allowed until he was 15. 

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression softening. "Yes. Before we leave for Rattatak, we will take a detour to Ilum with Huyang." 

Anakin blinked a few times. In his past life, he’d waited years for that rite of passage, fought for it, earned it the hard way. But now… now it was happening sooner. Because the Council trusted him?

Or because they needed him?

His heart pounded. He wasn’t sure which answer he preferred. Anakin forced a smile, "Then we better start packing."

Of course, when Obi-Wan and Anakin made it back to his room to pack, his letterPad had received a notification back. 

Aayla didn’t know what to think of the young Anakin Skywalker.

She had heard stories of him, but only as in what all of the Temple knew. He was thought to be the Chosen One, and he was brought in at a late age into the Order. Most Masters gave him a wide berth, and some whispered their doubts in low voices in the corners of the Archives. Aayla never joined those conversations, but she had heard her friends talk about him.

They said he had a temper. That he was reckless, emotional, and too attached to his Master. That the Council only kept him because they feared what he might become if they didn’t.

But now, Aayla thought those whispers were unfair.

When they first met, she had no idea what to really think. He had helped her, but the way he did it had surprised her.

Anakin hadn't just jumped into the fray. He hadn't lashed out or thrown his fists, which was to be suspected of his reputation. He had controlled the situation with calm and terrifying focus. That wasn’t what she expected from someone with a reputation for being impulsive.

He had used fear, yes. But he wasn’t cruel.

Aayla had grown used to navigating the subtle hierarchies within the Temple. She had learned early on that being Twi’lek, being different, meant that others would find excuses to test her. To doubt her. To think less of her because of her race. She pushed herself to never show weakness and got into more fights than she would ever admit. Which was what she was expecting to happen when those older boys had cornered her in the hallway.

Then came Skywalker.

She still remembered the way the Force had shifted, cold like a shadow rolling in. She had seen how the others reacted, it hadn’t reached her like it had the other.. And when she saw him walking toward them, calm and unreadable, something in her had gone still.

He didn't need to raise his voice. The Force had spoken for him.

Once they had left and everything had gone down, Anakin talked with her.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. He didn’t offer some well-meaning Jedi platitude about patience or serenity. He just looked at her, really looked, and said, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

That was it. No lecture, no assumption she couldn’t handle herself.

It had stunned her more than any confrontation.

Anakin Skywalker was unlike anyone she had ever met.

There was a brightness to him, but it wasn’t the calm, measured light the Jedi were trained to cultivate. His light was wild. Untamed. Like a sun on the verge of flaring. 

Then there had been the training session.

When she had called out to Anakin to join her and her friends, she had done so as a friend. And maybe because of the look in his eyes, like he hadn’t slept, like he was one bad moment away from snapping. She knew that look. She’d seen it in the mirror before. But when he came over and trained with them, they had used training sticks with him and not their sabers, he did something that shocked her again. He didn’t posture or try to dominate the group. He didn’t hold himself apart with pride or superiority. He, a twelve-year-old boy, was able to keep up with him. And put up a good fight. 

By the end, when they all collapsed onto the floor, breathless and laughing, Aayla saw a version of Anakin Skywalker that wasn’t made of whispered warnings or speculation.

He was just a boy. Like the rest of them. And for the first time, she saw him not as the Chosen One, but as a kid who laughed, who hurt, who needed a friend.

As she sat into her room, waiting for her Master to come home, she couldn’t help but think that it would be nice to have another friend. 

In his past life, Anakin had snuck out a bunch of times as a Padawan. Well past curfew and Temple grounds. He didn’t do it often, but he learned to bypass security systems, fake identity codes, and even slice holocams if he had to. 

It wasn't that he wanted to be disobedient. 

He just wanted to breathe.

Each step felt like eyes on him, glaring, judging him. The cold didn't help either.

Anakin had never felt comfortable in his own skin, the cold made that impossible. But after his fight with Obi-Wan on Mustafar, he always burned. It was an all-consuming heat that no amount of cooling could put out. Even as everything around him was now freezing, he was still caught in that internal fire. 

But now the cold was back, and it was almost bearable.

He snuck out through the window in his room and dropped down onto the ledge. Getting out was easy, but making sure he got back to Obi-Wan before he awoke. Obi-Wan would notice if he was gone too long. He always did. Even when Anakin thought he'd covered his tracks perfectly, Obi-Wan had a sixth sense for when his padawan had done something reckless.

He crouched low and quickly made his way across the narrow ledge. Then he found the ladder, which was rusted from rain and Temple humidity making it look half-forgotten behind one of the older annexes. It groaned under his weight as he climbed, but he still went down.  He knew it held his weight. 

Anakin knew every shortcut, every maintenance shaft, every forgotten nook the architects never meant padawans to find.

Once he made his way on the ground, he carefully made his way through the narrow maintenance tunnel that led beneath the Temple walls. The overhead lights had long since stopped working, but Anakin didn’t need them.

He emerged behind a stack of unused crates near the Temple's perimeter. The guard droids had their predictable rotation patterns, and he’d mapped them out years ago. He waited in the shadow of the wall, crouched low and still, counting silently.

Three… two… one.

He sprinted across the open space, barely a blur, and slid behind a column as the droid passed, its sensors none the wiser.

Anakin did this a few times before he reached the tall buildings that stood on the top of Coruscant. He pulled his hood up and started to make his way down the busy street. He blended in with the late-night traffic of speeder bikes and pedestrians. Coruscant never slept, not truly, but this hour brought a quieter hum. It was more bearable this way.  While there were some parts of planet city he liked, like Dax's, but most of it was overwhelming. Anakin could get very overwhelmed by the lights, the noise, the sheer press of life that never seemed to stop. Anakin could feel the weight of all the life-force of the people weighing on him, thrumming in the Force like a thousand heartbeats all at once. It made his skin itch. It wasn't painful exactly, just exhausting.

At this age, in his first life, it had taken him years to build mental shields enough to leave the Temple without Obi-Wan. Still, it wasn't perfect. Obi-Wan had tried to help him. Meditation, shielding techniques, grounding through the Force, he’d tried it all. But nothing ever fully blocked out the thrum of Coruscant, not really. Not when Anakin had been made to feel everything.

But now in this life he had a better start crafting his shields. Letting him make his way into a small park that was next to the Serenno embassy building without having a killer headache. 

If Anakin remembered correctly, Dooku worked with the senator of his homeworld for a while until he went with Palpatine. That only seemed to be confirmed with the letter Dooku had sent back to him. 

From the Office of Count Dooku, Serenno Embassy, Coruscant

Padawan Skywalker,

You are bold to reach out. That, I respect. It is a rare trait in the Temple these days. Your message was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

I, too, once asked questions that made others uncomfortable. The Jedi Order teaches peace, serenity, but often turns a blind eye to the disquiet it sows in the hearts of its own. If your instincts tell you that there is more to the Force than doctrine, you may be more correct than you know.

Meet me at the time and place indicated below. Come alone. Do not inform your Master. This is not because I wish to cause discord, but because some truths cannot survive the light of scrutiny unless first viewed in shadow.

We will talk.

                    – Count Dooku

The park that Anakin stepped into was small, quiet, and looked newer than most of the buildings around it. It was filled with green, like different trees and flowers. All those native to Serenno. It all looked better than most parks in Coruscant. A few benches were scattered around the sides, underneath street lamps, and a fountain trickled softly in the center, its base cracked but still functional. Anakin sat down at one of those benches, waiting.

He didn’t fully trust Dooku- how could he? They had spent so long fighting each other that the other man didn't know that. But the man was one of his only hopes to fix the future.

After about minutes of waiting in the quiet park, Anakin felt a subtle shift in the Force, like a gust of wind without movement, a presence pressing lightly against his awareness. He didn’t look up. Instead, he closed his eyes and forced his senses. The presence was familiar. Not in the way Obi-Wan is, but a measured, sharp, and calculating feeling, like the edge of a blade that had been used as decoration but never forgot how to cut.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Dooku walking towards him. He was tall, elegant in the way most Jedi were taught to be but few managed without effort or making a fool of themselves. He was dressed nicely, almost proud, with his cape sweeping behind him like it moved of its own volition, and his hands were folded behind his back.

Dooku stopped a few paces from the bench, his posture was impeccable. His presence in the Force was like a closed door. Firm, controlled, and quietly powerful. He looked down at Anakin with the calm of someone who had seen far too much and still chosen detachment. Even though Anakin knew the older man was more attached to others than he gave on. Master Qui-Gon was the biggest clue.

"You are smaller than I expected," Dooku said, studying him for a moment. “And younger. Yet… older in the eyes. That is rare.”

Anakin shrugged, still not looking at Dooku directly. "I don't think I've heard that one before. The second part, at least."

The corner of Dooku’s mouth lifted, but it didn’t quite make a smile. “Yes, well. Most people rarely look deeply enough to notice the first.”

He took a seat on the opposite end of the bench. An appropriate distance for two Jedi, most of the older Jedi believed that emotional space was just as important as physical. But Anakin had never liked that philosophy. Distance didn’t make emotions easier to manage. It just made them lonelier. Though Anakin suspected Dooku wasn’t truly considering Temple etiquette. He was giving Anakin space.

“You said you were lost,” Dooku said. “Tell me, what is it you seek to understand?”

Anakin hesitated. Then he spoke carefully. “The Jedi say to trust the Force, but only in the ways they approve of. They speak of compassion but warn against love. They say to feel but not to attach. It’s like being asked to walk while chained.”

Dooku nodded slowly. “And you feel those chains.”

“Yes.” His voice cracked slightly. “I feel everything.”

For a moment, Dooku said nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought. Then he asked, “How long have you known?” Dooku paused, “That you were different.”

Anakin didn’t answer immediately. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes on the cracked fountain. “Always, I think.”

Dooku nodded slowly. “I suspected as much. The Jedi... have never handled differences well.”

“They don’t like change,” Anakin murmured. “Or questions.”

That made Dooku’s gaze sharpen, not unkindly. “Indeed. And you have many.”

“Too many.” He finally turned to meet the older man’s eyes. “But that's not why I asked you to meet.”

Dooku arched his brow, “Oh?” 

“I don’t want to waste time,” he said finally. “Time is the one thing I have too much of and too little of.”

That drew a flicker of true curiosity from Dooku, a shift in his posture so minute most wouldn’t catch it. But Anakin did. “Go on.”

“I’ve seen what happens. To the Republic. To the Jedi. To the galaxy.” His voice lowered. “And I don’t want it to happen again.”

For a second, the older man didn’t respond. The fountain’s trickling filled the silence. Then Dooku’s eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but in careful calculation. “You speak as though from experience.”

Anakin met his gaze, and for once, didn’t flinch from the truth. “I’ve lived it. I know what the Jedi will do. I know what Palpatine will become. And I know that if I don’t change things, none of us will survive it.”

Dooku’s silence stretched again. Then, softly, “You know of Sidious.”

“Better than anyone,” Anakin said bitterly. “He trained me after I… after I fell.” He didn’t say Vader . Not yet.

Dooku leaned back slowly, and not even he could hide how conflicted he looked. “You believe I would help you stop him. That I would betray the path I once chose.”

“I think,” Anakin said, voice steadied he had ever had at this age in the past “you already regret the path you took.”

That hit something. The old Count’s jaw shifted, just barely.

“I don’t trust you,” Anakin admitted. “But I think you were right. About the Council. About their blindness. And I know you cared about Master Qui-Gon more than you ever let on.”

Dooku looked away for the first time, toward the rustling trees. When he spoke again, it was quieter.

“He was the only thing that kept me from leaving sooner.”

Anakin nodded. “He was the only one who saw me, too.”

Another silence. Then-

“If I am to believe you,” Dooku said carefully, “you are offering me a different future.”

“I’m offering a chance to stop the worst one.” Anakin leaned forward. “And if you’re smart, and you are, you’ll help me.”

Dooku studied him for a long time. Then, finally:

“You are either mad… or the most dangerous child I have ever met.”

“Why not both?” Anakin gave him a grim little smile. “But I can prove it to you.”

Dooku didn't take his hands at first, just stared at him. “You’ll allow me into your mind?” he asked, tone unreadable.

“If that’s what it takes,” Anakin said, unwavering. “I don’t want to fight you. I want to stop the war before it begins.”

There was something close to disbelief behind Dooku’s carefully constructed mask. “You would trust me with such power?”

Anakin said simply. “But I trust what you were. What Qui-Gon believed you to be.”

A beat. Then, with surprising gentleness, Dooku placed his hands on his.

Anakin closed his eyes and focused on the Force. He had no idea if it would work out. He let it move through him and let it drift him and Dooku away. 

In…

Out…

In…

Out…

Anakin felt detached. He knew he was still there, in the park, on the bench with Dooku. But he also felt lifted, away from the physical world. 

His little void. The World Between Worlds. 

Anakin opened his eyes and was caught off with what he saw. Normally, his void was just filled with far-off stars and endless space. 

But this place was slightly different. 

There were still stars and endless space, but this place was filled with stuff that looked like clouds. They were different shades of green and a little bit of blue, and looked like stars were inside. It was almost as if they were in a Nebula. It surrounded both of them and

Speaking of, Dooku was before. He was looking around in astonishment and something like awe. He stood, looking around the new place they were in. Even as he pulled away, Anakin could still feel their connection in the physical world. As Dooku looked around, Anakin got a good look at the older man. 

In this world, Anakin often felt like a hole in space or a burning sun. Dooku looked like a soft burning sun, but the odd thing is that something looked… broken.

“This…” Dooku murmured. “This is the World Between Worlds?” 

Anakin hummed, “Ish.” He reached out to touch a cloud. He actually didn't know. 

“ There are many places in the World Between Worlds. This is just the reflection of you.”  

Anakin smiled as he recognized the voice and turned to look behind him. The Force had appeared in different forms each time they had met, this time was no different. 

“The Force…” Dooku breathed, as though he was uttering a sacred truth. His voice trembled, not with fear, but with reverence. Humility.

The being tilted its head, smiling gently as its colors shifted, swirling like oil over water, stars flickering within its translucent skin. “You once listened to me, Count. Long ago. Before fear covered your ears.”

Anakin watched Dooku, who stared like a child seeing the stars for the first time. The older man took a step forward, then another, before dropping to his knees. Not out of subjugation, but in something like an apology.

“I've… I’ve lost my way,” Dooku said. 

The Force moved closer, its colors softening into pale gold and deep green. It extended what looked like a hand and touched his shoulder. 

“ You are not beyond redemption. Very little are truly beyond that path,”  the Force said. “ You are never beyond it. That is the illusion of power, it convinces you that you cannot stop. ”

Dooku was shaken, breathing hard. It struck Anakin that in the moment the Force touched him, it might have shown him something. “What… do I do?” he asked, voice hoarse.

The Force didn’t give a direct answer. It never did. Instead, it stood and walked back and faded into the clouds as it said as it disappeared, “ Choose. You have always had that power.”  

Dooku remained on his knees, staring into the place where the Force had vanished. The nebula-like clouds stirred gently, as if stirred by breath alone, light shifting softly through them like a heartbeat. Anakin watched him quietly. He could feel the older man’s conflict, like the churning of a great ocean underneath a calm surface. Dooku had always been composed, always controlled. But here, in this space between reality and life, there was no mask to wear.

“I thought I had to become something terrible to stop something worse,” Dooku said at last.  The Force must have shown him something from the future, from Anakin’s time. “But in doing so, I only fed the very fire I meant to put out.”

Anakin crouched down beside him. “That was the same choice I almost made. Maybe… still might. But now you don’t have to make it alone.”

Dooku turned to him slowly. “I once told Qui-Gon that the Council was blind,” he murmured. “But I never considered that I was, too. Blinded by pride. By pain.”

Anakin gave a soft, sad smile. “You’re not the only one.” 

They sat together in the quiet of the void, surrounded by stars and clouds, for a long moment. Anakin had questions about what was going on here and why it was different from any other time he had been here, but the only one with the answer had left. He doubted he could ask tonight.

Before long, though, Dooku started to pull away in the physical realm. It made the world start to fall away and-

Anakin blinked as the lights of Coruscant came back into view. 

The older man leaned back, exhaling deeply. His face looked somehow… lighter. Younger.

He looked at Anakin, his eyes looking more thoughtful than Anakin had ever seen. “You’ve given me much to consider.”

Anakin nodded, “You don’t have to decide everything tonight. Just… keep an open mind.”

The older man gave a disbelieving laugh, “Thanks to you, I have met the living embodiment of the Force! Something many would do anything to do.” Dooku looked down at his hands, “...you are braver than I gave you credit for, Skywalker. Braver, perhaps, than I ever was.”

A silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t heavy this time.

Finally, Dooku stood. “I will think about this. Truly. I have much to unlearn.”

Anakin stood with him, and for a moment, Anakin really didn't know what to say. “May the Force be with you,” He said softly, in the end.

Dooku’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “And with you, young one. More than ever.”

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the city lights.

Anakin sat back down on the bench, feeling the weight of the stars still pressing gently on his shoulders. Something had changed tonight.

Something, hopefully, for the better.