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In Anakin’s defense, he had – Guess there was no sugarcoating it. He had let his guard down. Looking back now, there were a few things that had probably played a part in that.
First, it had been some time since he’d gotten a good night’s sleep – boy, that must have been way back on the Outer Rim with his head propped up against solid rock or something – because after he’d returned to Coruscant and the nightmares had started, well, after a certain point the mere thought of closing his eyes had become a source of aversion and something Anakin had actively taken to avoiding. Why would he choose to torment himself with visions of his wife’s horrible death when he could spend that precious time searching for answers and solutions, he’d reasoned.
Second, suppose his poor sleeping habits had made him a little forgetful as well, because Anakin couldn’t recall the last time he had really… eaten. Although he wasn’t quite sure whether that was more due to bad memory making him forget, or the bad dreams killing his appetite. Not that it really mattered, because it was all part of the same vicious spiral, and the results spoke for themselves. Dizziness, exhaustion, muscular weakness, cognitive slowness, poor hand-eye coordination.
Third – well, these were all likely factors behind the sequence of events that had defined the past few days of Anakin’s life: ambushed at night, abducted by Darth Maul, taken to an unknown planet, tortured out of his mind listening to his captor talk, and now waiting for the cavalry to show up. The cavalry had a name, too: Obi-Wan Kenobi, having been summoned by Maul himself and warned of unspeakable things that would befall his former Padawan unless he came alone. All in some last-ditch attempt at revenge against a man who had only ever acted in self-defense, and proved himself better at it than Maul.
And they had all been under the impression Maul would have his hands full with Mandalore, but apparently that had all been just a ruse to lure two of his favorite Jedi generals into a trap… suppose Anakin should have been flattered. For some reason, he found it almost humiliating that Maul had not really bothered to hurt him, other than making him listen to his inane tirades about how he wanted to do it all in front of Obi-Wan.
Really, the whole situation would have been embarrassing at worst had Anakin’s mind not been so overwhelmed with the ticking time bomb that was Padmé’s looming fate as to make every second spent in Maul’s custody utterly excruciating in its wastefulness. Bound, gagged and chained down to a post in the center of an abandoned factory area, he’d been reduced to a pawn in Maul’s delusional game of just deserts, completely cut off from every pursuit he’d left behind on Coruscant. Namely, the seemingly conflicting objectives of keeping tabs on Chancellor Palpatine and hoping to learn everything the man knew about the possibly life-saving powers of the dark side.
Frankly, he really should have found a way out of his restraints by now, but ever since the visions had come and poisoned his connection with the Force, Anakin had struggled to harness its power into actually beneficial uses. And as his time in captivity stretched on – three, maybe fours days must have elapsed by now – his attempts were starting to seem increasingly pointless. It was any moment now. Anakin might not know his whereabouts in terms of coordinates, but he could sense Obi-Wan’s presence nearing in time and space. He must have negotiated a release from his duties on Utapau. If only Anakin could have pulled himself together sooner and never had to put him in that position. Obi-Wan had every right to resent him.
”He’s here.”
He was? Anakin didn’t want to believe Maul’s senses to be more accurate than his, but it seemed one man’s friend was another’s maniacal obsession. Moving right next to where Anakin was chained up to the post, his captor raised his eyes to the sky with an air of thrilled anticipation. And sure enough, the soft rumble of engines soon broke through the clouds, followed by the familiar shape of a standardized GAR-002 freighter coming into view as it glided down and angled itself into landing position.
Almost right up to the touchdown, the Zabrak’s gaze remained glued to the ship, tracing its course as it stationed itself across from Maul’s own. For a flick of a second, his eyes bounced off of Anakin before turning back to squint at the ramp that started to slide down from under the hatchway. Where Anakin had expected to see nothing but unbridled insanity, he now perceived a trace of something else. In fact… he thought he might be sensing whatever it was that Maul was sensing. Something seemed a little… off, even outside the less than ordinary circumstances Anakin found himself in. It was as if the entire universe had shifted out of place somehow, and the effects were only now reaching this corner of the Galaxy. The world that had witnessed Anakin's capture by Maul was not the same that now greeted the arrival of his –
Rescuers.
No, indeed. Not one but two figures stood in the hatchway, both of them immediately familiar to Anakin, and yet not so. Neither of them a stranger in isolation, and yet such an unusual sight to see within an arm’s length of each other that Anakin almost struggled to recognize them. But no matter how he looked, there was no mistaking it. Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown up to his rescue alongside Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Republic and Anakin’s friend and mentor. What made it so peculiar was that Palpatine was no friend of Obi-Wan’s. In truth, Anakin had always gotten the impression that the two harbored thinly veiled contempt for one another. Simply put: they didn't get along.
”Anakin,” Obi-Wan called at the sight of him, starting to run down the ramp while Palpatine followed closely behind.
Had they… what, put their differences aside and joined forces for Anakin’s sake? The thought might have been heartwarming had it not been so strange for Palpatine to be here at all. This was only the head-of-state of half the known universe and serving wartime leader of the Republic Grand Army! He did not have time of day to spare on a single lost lamb who didn’t even qualify as a prisoner of war. Anakin knew Palpatine cared for him, but perhaps the man’s affection ran deeper and stronger than the young Jedi had ever dared to presume. Perhaps he truly saw him as the son he’d never had, and felt a parental responsibility to protect him.
But – all due respect to the senior gentleman – did he even comprehend the level of danger he was about to be in? It was The Invisible Hand all over again, with the absolute wrong person playing the part of the captive. Had Palpatine not had his fill of adventure by the time they’d crashed half a flaming ship into duracrete and called it a day?
No less bewildered by the situation, Maul shifted closer to his prisoner, grabbing him by the hair and placing his unignited lightsaber on Anakin’s collarbone. ”Well, well, well… I thought I specified the invitation was for one. But since you are here… I would be remiss not to extend a warm welcome to my venerable master, Darth Sidious himself. Have you come to watch your precious pupil’s execution? Lament all that wasted potential?”
Master? Pupil? Perhaps Anakin had misheard, because surely Maul had addressed Obi-Wan just now. Or perhaps his kidnapping had involved more head injury than Anakin had thought, because he could have sworn the Zabrak had just referred to him as Darth Sidious, the mysterious Sith Lord behind the inception of the Clone Wars and master to both Dooku and Maul.
”Wait.” A short distance from where Maul stood over Anakin, Obi-Wan stopped dead and turned square to Palpatine, who had been trailing right behind him. ”No… No. You can’t be – This can’t – Oh, but it can.”
”A little slow on the uptake, aren’t you Master Kenobi?” Palpatine scoffed. ”And we had a whole hyperspace journey to get to know each other… bond over our shared mission.”
”I thought it was strange when you – I should have listened to my instincts.”
”Hmh.”
”And all along, you’ve been,” Obi-Wan could barely get his words out for the sudden distress that had overcome him, ”you’ve been seeing Anakin in private – oh, why couldn’t I see it earlier?”
Between cut-off sentences, casual insults, and mentions of his own name, the conversation had veered off into a direction Anakin could not follow. Was he missing something? He wanted to demand an explanation right then and there, but all he could manage were frustrated moans into his gag.
”I’m sure there’s a long and riveting story behind your unlikely alliance,” Maul cut in, shaking Anakin by the hair and drawing some more noise out of him. ”But I fear we might be getting sidetracked. Now, I was only expecting one of you… but I suppose a merry time can always get merrier. What say you to a little friendly competition? Both of you have a personal stake in this boy’s life, yet you don’t seem to see quite eye to eye as to what should be done with it. So tell me why I shouldn’t slowly tear him apart piece by piece, while I will endeavor to make the opposite case. A weak argument wins me a…” He grabbed the hilt of his saber and traced the rounded shape of Anakin’s shoulder as if about to lop the limb clean off. ”…point, and the person with the most convincing line of reasoning gets to go home with the largest… live portion.”
Anakin had barely bothered to listen. He’d been forced to endure Maul’s empty threats for days on end, and it was all starting to muddy together a bit. His mind was still hung up on what Maul had said moments ago, and about who. The only way his words made sense was if they had not been addressed to Obi-Wan, but… Palpatine? But… no, what a ridiculous idea.
”You wouldn’t dare,” Palpatine challenged.
”Watch me,” Maul replied, and in an arched swing, raised his blade above Anakin’s head, igniting both ends with a crack-hiss.
”Anakin!” Obi-Wan cried, grabbing his weapon in response. But it was Palpatine’s reaction to Maul’s threat that truly escalated the situation – it all happened faster than Obi-Wan could finish shouting out Anakin’s name. During the brief window of time Maul’s weapon was lifted in the air and both his hands parted from direct contact with his captive’s body, Palpatine thrust out his arm, and from his fingertips, shot out a surge of electric blue lightning, just missing Anakin’s shoulder as it came frizzling past the post he was tied to. The bolt caught Maul hard in the chest, sending him doubled over and spasming, but he just managed to keep his balance and raise his saber to shield himself from the brunt of the assault.
Farthest back, Obi-Wan was searching for an opening to get to Anakin, but such was the younger Jedi’s astonishment at what had just transpired that he couldn’t seem to even look his way. One moment things had rapidly and chaotically succeeded one another, now it all seemed to play out in slow motion as Anakin tried to process what he'd just witnessed.
Palpatine – no.
Palpatine was Darth Sidious?
Finally a consistent picture formed in Anakin's head: Obi-Wan had just figured it out a moment ago. He’d seemed disturbed… appalled. But not really shocked.
And perhaps Anakin shouldn’t have been, either – but he was.
Having recovered from the zap he’d sustained, Maul was willing to fight over the last word on his hostage. ”So be it,” he growled, holding out his double-blade and spinning it in a sideways circle as he watched a contrasting pair of blue and red being drawn against him. ”I suppose you want to settle this the old-fashioned way.”
”I taught you the old-fashioned way,” Palpatine pointed out, brandishing his blade of striking crimson. ”I expect you will have precious little to offer in return.”
It was such a bizarre sight, seeing the Chancellor with a weapon in hand, let alone a lightsaber – much less one in the telltale color of the Sith. A part of Anakin wanted to reject the notion entirely, even as he perceived the evidence with his own eyes and ears. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. Palpatine couldn’t be Darth Sidious, and if he was, surely there was some piece of the puzzle he was still missing, because the man Anakin knew, the kindly father figure who had been there for him all these years, was the farthest thing from pure evil he could possibly imagine.
”Anakin,” Obi-Wan called out, azure blue poised at his temple. Maul had started to advance on his opponents, dragging a sizzling blade into the ground as he went, but it was to Palpatine that Obi-Wan gestured with a solemn glance. ”Please, whatever happens. You cannot believe a word that comes out of this lying snake’s mouth. You know that to be true, don't you?”
”Ever the Jedi,” Palpatine retorted. ”Claiming ownership of absolute truth while passing offhand judgment upon others.”
”Shut your traps!” Maul roared. He threw a sideways nod to his prisoner, ”I will leave you both with just enough life in your mangled bodies to watch as I snuff out his.”
And so, with a threat by no means lacking in ambition, it began, the truel over the life and death of Anakin Skywalker. And the way it began was the way it almost ended when Palpatine’s red got off to a strong and unpredictable start, catching Maul in the upper arm and only barely missing the neck. Obi-Wan, jumping into the fray from the side, immediately got into the rhythm of his defensive play, but at the same time, there was a degree of hesitation in his moves. Through the swirl of dancing blades, Anakin caught Obi-Wan’s eye for a beat, and saw the problem from his friend’s point of view: under any other circumstances, a shared adversary would have implied solidarity and partnership. In this case, it wasn’t as if Obi-Wan could claim Palpatine as an ally when he’d just called him a liar and showed open disgust at the revelation of his true identity.
Palpatine, meanwhile, didn’t seem much concerned about where he stood with Obi-Wan, keeping his focus solely on Maul, coming at his former pupil with a merciless onslaught, each round more aggressive than the last. Maul appeared to be shifting positions in an attempt to get Palpatine to hit Obi-Wan in his stead, but amid the general chaos of the situation, this seemed the least cause for worry. Not only was the Chancellor far too calm and controlled to fall for Maul’s obvious baiting, but he also took great care to avoid so much as grazing Obi-Wan. Sith Lord or not, he was someone Anakin knew to be kind, empathetic and fiercely loyal to his friends. Anakin just wasn’t sure which of those qualities it was that made him so sure Palpatine wouldn’t turn his saber on Obi-Wan.
From the very beginning, the two had never liked each other, and if they refused to play allies, they were never going to be friends. But a twist of fate had compelled them to set aside personal tensions and lock arms for a common goal. It did boggle Anakin’s mind that it should be him, the thing that had brought them together, the greater purpose that had united the opposing sides in a millennia-old war. Two remarkable individuals he had the honor to call friends, who would have called each other enemies, arriving on the same ship to Anakin’s rescue.
In a whirlwind of blue and red they pressed at each other, occasionally sweeping past Anakin, but it was through Obi-Wab’s industrious efforts that Maul was never allowed within more than a stride’s length from his prisoner. It took considerable skill, but somehow the Jedi Master was able to redirect his opponent’s movements again and again while maintaining a steady defense and leaving room for aggression as well. Block by block he held Maul at bay, parry by parry the Zabrak was kept on his toes and forced on the reactive.
But while Obi-Wan had a solid offensive routine, it was becoming clear that this was an area where Palpatine excelled… was unparalleled, even. It was something Anakin never would have been able to visualize – the swiftness of the Sith’s movements seemed to elude the eye, the air, and the very laws of cosmos. Every swing of his saber had such strength behind it that mere blade-to-blade contact would send Maul into enormous strain, and Obi-Wan struggling to keep up. His finesse and precision made Dooku look amateurishly clumsy. It was as impressive as it was unsettling to watch. Anakin could have sat here in chains until his rescuers died of old age and still been unable to reconcile these two versions of Sheev Palpatine, public servant by day, secret Sith by night. His long-time friend and confidante with grandfatherly advice to spare – supposedly the same person as this powerhouse of a duelist with abilities bordering on the unnatural.
But it wasn’t just the Chancellor that Anakin was grappling with, although it perhaps should have been. Anakin certainly liked to think that he and Obi-Wan had a fairly uncomplicated relationship, that the greater part of their differences was behind them, a feature of Anakin’s teenage years. And yet, a part of him could not help but find it unbelievable that Obi-Wan – so profoundly devoted to the Order and a textbook practitioner of compassion without attachment – had dropped everything to come to Anakin’s aid. It was difficult to admit, but Anakin had not realized Obi-Wan… cared so very deeply for him. He’d always known he cared, of course – except for the few times he’d questioned it over the years, that flicker of doubt he’d felt now and then when Obi-Wan had said something particularly harsh or acted in a way that underlined his Jedi upbringing.
That doubt had been directed more towards the Jedi than Obi-Wan specifically, but in the back of his mind, Anakin had always believed his friend was… programmed in a way. Not brainwashed – that was too dramatic a word, implying abuse and torture – but raised in accordance with a specific set of principles and tenets that would have molded him into a specific type of person. The way Anakin saw it, it wasn’t too dissimilar to his own experience growing up as a slave – in a given situation involving critical choices and high stakes, there would always be certain fixed behaviors he would fall back on, or be liable to fall back on. It had happened back in Zygerria, and even if Anakin liked to flatter himself it would never happen again, there was no erasing his early years and everything that came with that territory. Given the right prompt, the appropriate motivation, he would slip right back into those shackles, far sturdier and harder to shake than the ones binding him now.
Deep down, he’d always imagined the same was true for Obi-Wan, but with Jedihood. To him, personal loyalties would always come second to the indiscriminate, all-encompassing love he’d been taught to practice. A single person’s fate could never matter more than the lives of hundreds, thousands, entire peoples and planets. Anakin knew this, and he’d always thought highly of his friend for embodying such noble ideals. His own life mattered not. It hadn’t been until the fates of his mother and now Padmé had come into the picture that he’d had started to harbor a degree of resentment towards him. Not in profusion… just some. There was a reason Anakin had never confided in his master about his wife, nor his more recent series of nightmares. Obi-Wan had told him dreams would pass in time. Anakin just wished his mother had been allowed to pass in peace.
Anakin caught himself before he could let his thoughts spiral further down this road. What was he doing, letting Palpatine off the hook as if he’d not just found him guilty of egregious betrayal and two-facedness. His dear friend and mentor was none other than Darth Sidious, the Sith Lord who had engineered the Clone Wars and played both sides of the conflict while projecting a public persona of goodness and virtue. This was the man who had trained Maul, the man who had sent him after Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, the man responsible for such an abundance of crimes it was impossible to consider them all at once. It was despicable. Anakin should have found it despicable, point-blank. So why did he still think fondly of the man he'd known all these years? Why did he so desperately want to believe it had never been just a lie, or a cover story, or a mask?
The truelists were now moving in a constrained formation, reluctant to engage in bold ventures, waiting for someone to make a mistake and bring the skirmish to a seemingly foregone conclusion. Obi-Wan was holding his own, Palpatine seemingly immune to such mortal afflictions as danger and fatigue. Just because Maul appeared to be caught somewhere between bloodthirst and delusions of grandeur didn’t change the fact that he was outnumbered by two against one. How he had held his ground for so long was anyone’s guess, but Anakin suspected it could only be his familiarity with his opponents’ respective fighting styles and any weaknesses he knew to exploit.
Watching Palpatine move in a deadly gale, pushing Maul to his absolute limit, a kind of acceptance started to creep upon Anakin. Acceptance of the truth, not necessarily of his true nature. It finally made sense, why the Chancellor had been so knowledgeable about the dark side, why he’d been able to recite a Sith legend from memory and analyze it with such conviction and authority. It was all coming to Anakin in pieces, everything Palpatine had told him at the opera, everything he’d left unsaid. The tragedy of Darth Plagueis. The power to stop death itself, to save your loved ones from its unforgiving embrace. Anakin couldn’t recall it word for word, but every word he did recall seemed to have been left trailing off in the air, shrouded in a veil of mystery. Surely Palpatine had not meant to imply he’d known the titular character personally, and that was how he knew it was all real, that Plagueis’ abilities were real and could be passed on from master to apprentice?
Wait – had Palpatine been that very apprentice? The one to whom Plagueis had taught the forbidden secrets of the universe – mastery over life and death? But that would mean that Palpatine might just be his best bet when it came to saving Padmé from the inevitable. That elusive strain of knowledge, even the mere hope of gaining access to it, was invaluable to Anakin. Therefore… Palpatine’s life was invaluable to Anakin.
A pang of anxiety gripped the Jedi. He knew – or was reasonably sure – that Palpatine would not harm Obi-Wan, but what about the other way around? Maul was growing desperate, the evidence of his exhaustion increasingly plain to see – and once the killing blow was dealt, what then? Obi-Wan did not have all the facts, not even nearly enough to make an informed decision about Palpatine’s life. Once Maul was defeated, would he try and take it?
To Obi-Wan, Palpatine was the enemy. He was Darth Sidious, the Sith Lord they’d been searching for all this time. He wasn’t just dangerous, he was the root cause of all peril and menace that threatened the Galaxy, the culprit of everything that had already hurt it. Obi-Wan did not know, would perhaps never know, the aching last hope Palpatine represented to Anakin. He didn’t need a gag in his mouth to find it difficult to explain. He didn’t want to explain, because no matter how he sliced it, Obi-Wan would never understand. And it would’ve been unreasonable to expect him to.
A sheen of sweat had gathered on Anakin’s forehead. The harder he tried to tap into the Force, the farther out of reach it seemed to drift. He hated being so helpless, was there nothing he could do to get out of these restraints? He had to find a way before it was too late. All he wanted was a say in the situation, in what happened next before all was said and done. Before someone did something that could not be taken back.
While Anakin committed himself to one final attempt to fight his way out of his bonds, Maul was wising up to the inevitable loss that awaited him at the end of the line.
”Very well. I will spare you the dilemma of having to… share.”
Anakin suddenly became aware of everyone’s positions in the thick of the fray. Palpatine was on the cusp of a critical strike, but he’d not accounted for Maul’s impressive legwork, which the Zabrak employed to its fullest effect to fend him off. Obi-Wan had his back to Anakin, the last line of defense standing guard over his bound form, but there was nothing that could have stopped Maul with the determination that had taken possession of him. With a twirl of his double-blade, he made quick work of disarming Obi-Wan, shoving him aside with his foot and raising his weapon over the shoulder, a dash away from driving it through his preferred body part on Anakin.
Palpatine rallied to take a swing at Maul’s neck, which did little but slow him down as he dodged and countered with a Force thrust. A doomed attempt to recover his weapon cost Obi-Wan his balance, a sharp elbow from Maul knocking him off his feet and clearing the way for the Zabrak. The Jedi was sent staggering sideways, tumbling headlong over his feet – Anakin saw a flash of red closing in, felt a thud, his eyes snapping shut as his vision was swarmed by flickering outlines of the back of Obi-Wan’s head.
When he opened them next, the tip of a fiery red blade was protruding from the center of Maul’s forehead, a sense of disturbed acceptance etched on the Zabrak’s face as he dropped to his knees, then to the ground. Standing over his kill, Palpatine’s calm and collected form came into view as he drew back the fateful instrument, deactivated it, and hung it on his hip.
”Always two there are,” he whispered, ”no more, no less.”
Anakin sat there stunned, as mentally unable to speak as he was literally. Sprawled in front of him, an air of confusion swam over Obi-Wan, who had yet to raise his gaze to look upon their rescuer.
”Will you excuse me, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said, kneeling down in front of Anakin. With the help of his saber, he wasted no time in releasing the Jedi from his bonds, and with lined fingers, removing his gag, before offering a smile, and extending his hand as soon as Anakin finished rubbing his wrists. ”Are you alright, my boy? Can you stand?”
”Get away from him,” Obi-Wan objected. He’d found his bearings and called his weapon back to him, hand hovering over the hilt as he trained a vicious glare on Palpatine.
”Obi-Wan –” Anakin croaked out in a strange voice, thin and raspy from disuse. Palpatine was persistent in proffering his hand, so Anakin took it and let himself be guided to his feet. ”There’s no need to argue – you both saved me, and I’m grateful.”
”There is every need to argue,” Obi-Wan insisted, gripping the stem of his weapon where it sat at his waist. ”You heard him, you – you saw what he is. Do I really need to belabor the point? Anakin, this man is not your friend! There is no your friend the Chancellor, there is only Darth Sidious!”
”It’s been an eventful day, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said flatly. ”Everyone’s emotions are running high –”
”Oh, indeed! Care to see a demonstration?” In a whip of his hand, Obi-Wan was back to brandishing his weapon, sky blue flaring to life from the hilt he wrapped both hands around. It was noticeable how he did refrain from pointing it at Palpatine, and Anakin was suddenly very aware of standing right beside the man, across from his self-proclaimed enemy.
”Obi-Wan,” Anakin tried to reason. ”There’s no need for this. He may he a Sith Lord, but he saved me. He saved us.” With a bob of his chin, he indicated Maul’s dead body, ”You can’t deny that. He saved us.”
Obi-Wan considered the corpse at Palpatine’s feet, then his eyes flicked back to consider Anakin. A stretch of silence passed before, with a small nod, he switched off the deadly blue beam and lowered his weapon. ”You’re right. Because he saved you, I’m willing to let things slide just this once. But you’re not going home with him. We’re taking Maul’s ship back to Coruscant, and leaving him with the one we came in will be my final act of grace towards this man.”
”Ah,” Palpatine sighed with a sardonic tilt of his head. ”How charitable.” He turned to Anakin, who did not know how to respond, to any of this. ”I fear Master Kenobi is unable to tolerate my presence for a moment longer. He said he wants to take you home, but I do believe it should be your choice, should it not? You had your freedom deprived from you – you’re welcome to exercise it now. No one’s taking you anywhere, right? You’re free to choose.”
”I did not say I was taking him,” Obi-Wan snarled through his teeth, ”I said we’re taking Maul’s ship. Come on, Anakin, let’s go home.”
”I –” Anakin’s conscience blamed him for hesitating, but once he’d done that, it could no longer be taken back. Images of Padmé kept assaulting his waking vision. Was she alive? Had she given birth, could she still be saved? He needed to get home, stat, and he’d not expected to have to make what was shaping up to be a life-altering decision before he boarded his ride.
Seeing his reluctance to follow him, Obi-Wan’s brow creased. ”There’s… there’s something I need to…” Anakin spluttered, turning to Palpatine, who offered a look of pleasant curiosity. ”…talk to him about.”
Dismay and bewilderment were evident to see on Obi-Wan’s face. This was not a response he’d anticipated. ”What? What do you mean?”
”Oh,” Palpatine said. ”I think I know what this might be regarding.”
”Anakin, what is he talking about?”
”Master –” Anakin shook his head, ”It’s nothing. I mean –” He could kind of see how things looked from where Obi-Wan was standing, and tried to find the right words to reassure him, ”I am not joining the dark side, alright? It’s not about that. You know that, right?”
Obi-Wan gave a frustrated sweep of his hand, ”Then what is it about?”
”There’s something I need… his help with…” Anakin’s voice fell indistinct on his own ears as his mind was flooded with flashes of Master Yoda, their tête-à-tête at the temple. Words of wisdom wasted in an utterly fruitless conversation.
”His help? I don’t understand.”
”Straight from the kaadu’s mouth,” Palpatine observed. Anakin had to suppress a wince when he felt a fingery touch on his shoulder blades. ”If this is about what we discussed at the opera, I do believe Master Kenobi has shown his hand. It is not the sort of conversation your garden-variety Jedi would be… open to having."
Anakin averted his gaze. No, he was not joining the dark side – promise. He only wanted to consult an expert on all matters dark side about a power only accessible through the dark side… Stars, if he wasn’t buying any of this poodoo, how could Obi-Wan?
Feeling a slight press from the hand rested against his back, Anakin pursed his lips. He needed to get home, back to Padmé and his unborn child, but he couldn’t seem to will his legs to move. It was like time itself had stopped, and he stood in the center of the void that remained, paralyzed and confused, as if stuck in one of his nightmares.
”I will gladly own that,” Obi-Wan retorted. ”Being garden-variety. Did you choose that expression specifically so I couldn’t argue that Jedihood is something Anakin and I have in common? That’s pretty clever.”
”I think we’re past the time for arguments,” Palpatine judged. ”I do believe Anakin has made his choice, haven’t you my boy?” Anakin turned to meet the Chancellor’s expectant gaze. The older man's hand shifted from his back, following the arm that snaked around Anakin's shoulders. Unfazed by his lack of response, Palpatine gave him a friendly little shake. ”We have much to discuss.”
”He’s manipulating you,” Obi-Wan persisted. ”I may not know what this is all about, but I know manipulation when I see it. Anakin, this is why he’s been asking to see you all these years. You sense it, don’t you? This man’s intentions are evil, and he means to use you for his dirty work! He’s not interested in helping you! He means to make you his servant, his –”
Anakin had rarely seen Obi-Wan stumble over his words, much less choke on them, but in this case, his implication was perfectly articulate.
”You’re welcome on board, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine announced. ”There is plenty of room, and anyway, I don’t see why we can’t talk things out between the three of us.”
”Plenty of room in whatever hell you belong in!”
”I’m sure we can all be civil –”
”Yes, because civil is going to win us the war you orchestrated!” Obi-Wan bellowed. ”You turned us into soldiers, now you make me lay down my weapon?”
”I see that there are misunderstandings to be remedied and bridges to be built –”
”Oh, laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, you viper?”
”Again, why are we talking over the person who gets to make the choice here? Poor boy has had a long day, but he is perfectly capable of making his own decisions.”
Palpatine gave Anakin a squeeze around the shoulders, and the younger man found he couldn't quite meet Obi-Wan's eye. Feeling the heavy air of pressure descend on him, Anakin couldn’t believe it had come to this. His decision. His having to choose one over the other. The Sith or the Jedi. Padmé’s life, or a friendship he valued far over his own.
”Anakin, whatever it is you need help with, we can figure it out.” Obi-Wan’s voice had the tone of a last appeal, the final words he could think to say before handing things over to the jury. ”It doesn’t matter if it’s something… you haven’t felt comfortable sharing with me. As long as you don’t trust this man with any more of your secrets, for he will not hesitate to use them against you. I may not have access to whatever resources he claims to be in possession of, but I do have something he doesn’t, and it is your best interests at heart.” For effect, he gave his chest a little tap of the fist.
Palpatine rubbed comforting circles into Anakin’s forearm. ”He’s right. Heartwarming words don’t translate to resources, and best interests are not solutions. And seeing as this is something you have felt comfortable confiding to me, I know it is someone other than yourself that you seek my help for. But the Jedi have never understood true selflessness.”
Selflessness. Anakin stopped to consider the word. It was too complex a matter for him to decide whether or not he agreed with that blanket statement, but was he truly being selfless in seeking help for his wife? Anakin didn’t think he necessarily was. It was pointless entertaining any noble delusions – he wanted to save Padmé because he didn’t think he could live without her. If she lost her life, his own would reach a dead end. If her heart stopped, his own would follow down that same path.
Obi-Wan was probably right about Palpatine. If there was anything his departure from Tatooine had taught Anakin it was that even gifts of the most coveted and precious kind rarely came without strings. Surely in Palpatine’s offer to help him, there lay an inherent agreement of mutual cooperation, of a favor to be returned that he expected to collect in due time.
And what would it involve? Betrayal? Servitude? Murder? Would Anakin be willing to kill to save his wife? Yes he would, no question. Just as Palpatine had killed to save Anakin’s life today.
In a way it was alarming, how rapidly he’d known the answer. But Anakin had killed before. He’d killed for the right cause, he’d killed for the greater good. And he’d killed out of grief, out of deep-seated wrath, and out of a sudden, uncontrolled, violent rage. He would barely be breaking new ground to kill for love.
Anakin’s lips started to part to answer, when something in the back of his mind offered another hypothetical: what if Palpatine were to ask him to die for Padmé, instead of killing for her? What would he choose, if there was a chance she could live and raise their child, but only at the cost of Anakin’s life?
Much like with the first question he'd posed to himself, Anakin knew the answer before he could really finish asking it… but as dramatic as it seemed, there was a part of him that wanted to scoff at the whole thing, for even having thought of it. Palpatine wasn’t going to ask Anakin to die. How could he, if he ever meant to claim his compensation for any help he provided him now? Anakin wasn’t sure why his brain had conjured up such a specific and wildly improbable scenario, when it was so very irrelevant to his current circumstances.
Anakin’s head started to turn to the man beside him, when once again, he saw something he knew wasn’t there, but it might as well have been. A blur of movement, shapes and sounds, all enfolded in a hue of fiery red. He saw Obi-Wan knocked down, reeling and stumbling, unable to regain his bearings. One moment he was so very far away, his balanceless steps sweeping him off to the side – the next, there was only the flash of crimson and the back of Obi-Wan’s head.
How could Anakin only perceive it now, and with such perfect clarity, when he’d been completely blind to it before? But as soon as he did, he knew it was true. Obi-Wan had not just fallen. Even if one could call it that, it had not been haphazard. His Master, his friend, his brother… he had let his body drop in front of Anakin to shield him. He had planted himself between his friend and his would-be slayer to take the killing blow. He’d known Palpatine would be right behind, poised for the final stroke, as long as Obi-Wan bought him time. He’d only slightly underestimated the Sith’s incredible speed, and that was how they’d both escaped with their lives.
But Obi-Wan had been willing to part with his. He had been willing to suffer Qui-Gon’s fate. Willing to die, just so Anakin could…
Betray everything he’d ever believed in and side with the Sith?
Leave Obi-Wan’s still-warm body behind to rot beside Maul’s and let Darth Sidious take him home?
Not on his life. Not on any life Obi-Wan had almost given his own to save.
With a repulsed gasp, Anakin shook himself free from Palpatine’s embrace. His disgust was largely reserved for himself, but the reek of darkness suffused in the Chancellor’s body odor had not helped things. He watched Obi-Wan’s expression light up in beaming joy as he stepped over Maul’s remains and moved to stand beside his friend.
”Killing is easy,” he told Sidious, looking him as deep in the eye as his gaze would bore into. Not for the first time, he saw… ugliness. ”It’s what I’m good at, it’s what you’re good at. Dying takes courage. And I know what I would rather choose to save someone I love.”
Sidious gave a dismissive huff, ”And what use would you be to them beyond that… touching gesture?”
”Exactly.” He exchanged a meaningful look with Obi-Wan. ”That’s what it means to sacrifice it all. What have you sacrificed to get where you are, Chancellor? The lives of others?” With a nod, Anakin gestured to the heap that had once proudly called himself Darth Sidious’ apprentice.
A wicked grin crossed over Sidious’ face. Soft, amused chuckles sputtered from the back of his throat. He nodded his head first in momentary contemplation, then in acceptance, licked his lips, then brought his hand down to the hip, on the hilt of his lightsaber.
”Right you are, my boy. Killing is what I excel at. But fear not – this shall not be your last lesson.”