Archive of Our Own

Star Wars, Episode II

Attack of the Clones

There is unrest in the Galactic

Senate. Several hundred solar

systems have declared their

intentions to leave the Republic.

This separatist movement,

under the leadership of the

former Jedi Master, Count Dooku, has

made it difficult for the limited

number of Jedi Knights to

maintain peace and order in

the galaxy.

Senator Amidala, the former

Queen of Naboo, is returning

to the Galactic Senate to vote

on the critical issue of creating

an ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

to assist the overwhelmed

Jedi….

Over the bustling Planet of Coruscant, a sleek starship entered the atmosphere, its chrome-plated exterior shining like a shooting star as it descended into ecumenopolis. Flanked by two shining yellow Naboo Starfighters, it gracefully flew between towering spires and cloud banks, approaching the city center, the beating heart of the Republic. The docking bay gave its clearance message, and the skilled pilots slowed the ship's descent, landing on the docking pad without error. The starfighters landed, and their occupants exited, the fog of the Coruscant morning obscuring the roar of passing speeders. One, a tall man, took off his helmet and eye patch covering one of his eyes. The other, a smaller woman, kept her helmet on and approached him, and he smiled.

“It seems we didn't have to worry. If there was going to be an attack, it would have happened already.”

As if answering his statement, the whistle of a rocket rang through the air and collided with the gleaming starship, an explosion ripping through the calm air. The ship collapsed under its own weight, and crumpled in a fiery pile of shining rubble. The woman pilot, despite the danger, ran into the wreckage and pulled pieces of rubble off an elegantly dressed person in ornate makeup; the senator from Naboo, Padmé Amidala.

“No!”

The pilot threw off her helmet, tears in her bright eyes as she cradled the Senator's head in her arms. Padmés eyes fluttered open, and she coughed, blood staining her powdered face. She reached a bloody hand up to the woman's face, and choked out her dying words.

“I’m sorry, Senator. I’m… sorry… Padmé…”

Her arm went limp, leaving a streak of blood on the real Padmés face, contorting in pain. Captain Tycho ran over to her, giving a second quick look of remorse for the body double on the ground, and touched her shoulder.

“Senator, we need to go. The attacker could still be here.”

Padmé nodded, standing up, giving one last glance to her brave body double, the woman who had died in her place. Whoever this assassin was, they were not one for idle threats, thought Padmé. 

The speeder ride to the Chancellor's office was quick and tense, and Padmé kept looking over her shoulders, at each rooftop or balcony, each glint of metal that passed by. She was no stranger to death. Years earlier, she had watched her planet slowly strangle as it was blockaded by the Trade Federation. She fought, people died, and she won. She was Queen then, but the Galaxy needed her, that much was clear. She abdicated at the height of her popularity, choosing to represent the Planet on a grand stage: the Galactic Senate. The Trade Federation was a symptom, not a cause, and the rumors of Separatist systems calling for independence from the Republic showed that something rotten lay at the heart.

Whoever ordered this hit wanted to send a message to the Republic, a message that speaking out against the system made you a target. Padmë had been threatened before; if the assassin hoped to scare her, they would have to try harder than that. She sighed deeply as they approached the Senate building, the familiar sight of security speeders and probe droids making her feel safer. Out of the gundark nest, into the sarlacc pit. 

-

Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine swept into the room in a flurry of crimson robes and the cloying scent of exotic body oils. Padmé wrinkled her nose slightly as he passed.

“Senator Amidala, thank goodness you are unharmed.”

He spoke with all the emotion of a garden snake and the expression of a paid mourner. Padmé kept her face neutral.

“No thanks to your security forces, Chancellor,” she replied coolly. “If I hadn’t used a body double, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Palpatine’s smile flickered. He glanced toward his crimson-robed guards, as if she had insulted them directly.

“My sincerest apologies, Padmé. If not for your foresight, why…”

He paused, searching for a note of sincerity and falling short.

“Senator Amidala will be fine, Chancellor.”

Palpatine straightened, adjusting his robes with meticulous grace, and moved toward his desk like a stage actor hitting his mark.

“This kind of brazen attack could only be the work of the Separatists,” he said smoothly. “Count Dooku will stop at nothing to cripple this Republic.”

The doors hissed open, and Jedi Master Mace Windu strode in, flanked by two Temple Guards in pristine robes and masks. He gave Padmé a faint nod, a rare smile ghosting across his features, before turning to Palpatine.

“Dooku was, until recently, a Jedi Master,” Mace said evenly. “Assassination isn’t in his toolbox, Chancellor.”

Palpatine smiled and spread his arms wide, as if offering the very air as tribute to the robed Jedi Master.

“Master Windu, thank you for coming on such short notice. I was just discussing what actions we should take with Pad—Senator Amidala.”

Mace didn’t bother with pleasantries. He folded his arms, then settled into the chair beside Padmé with slow, deliberate purpose. The silence that followed was heavier than the robes he wore.

Padmé straightened, instinctively sitting taller. She was no stranger to Jedi—not since Naboo—but there was something about Master Windu that unsettled her. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had been calm, reassuring presences. Windu was calm too, but in the way of a coiled loth-cat, watching from the shadows, ready to strike.

“That is why I came, Chancellor. The Council has decided to extend Jedi protection to the Senator.”

Padmé scoffed slightly, then turned to Master Windu.

Palpatine smiled wider, the gesture never quite reaching his eyes. He pressed a control on his desk, and a holoprojector buzzed to life, casting a three-dimensional map of the galaxy into the air above them. One by one, systems lit up in crimson—first a handful, then dozens, spreading outward like an infection from the Core.

Padmé’s eyes narrowed as the room filled with a cold red glow. It wasn’t just numbers—it was a tide.

Palpatine rose, stepping between the Jedi and the Senator, the blood-hued light casting shadows across his face.

“These so-called peace-loving systems are the ones who have already pledged allegiance to the Separatist cause,” he said, his tone cool and measured. “They are raising armies. They are funding weapons. The Trade Federation, the Techno Union… all pouring resources into Dooku’s coffers.”

He turned toward Padmé, his expression solemn now.

“This army is not for strong-arming dissenters, Senator. It is for our protection. How long do you think we have before Count Dooku declares open war on the Republic?”

Padmé sat back in her chair, glancing at Master Windu. He remained still, unreadable, a statue carved from calm. She cleared her throat and leaned forward again, her voice measured but firm.

“Have we so completely abandoned diplomacy that a blaster is now the only thing that makes us feel safe? Like Master Windu said—Count Dooku was a Jedi. He is a man of reason, of faith. If we approached him openly, listened to his demands, I believe—”

“Yes, Senator,” Palpatine interjected smoothly, “was is the key word.”

He turned slightly, hands clasped behind his back, the light from the projector painting him in blood-red hues.

“Intelligence reports suggest Count Dooku has abandoned the Jedi entirely. There are rumors that he is corresponding with a man called Darth Tyrannus.”

Master Windu’s eyes shot over to the Chancellor, gripping the chair tighter.

“Darth… That's a Sith title. You mean to say that Dooku is in league with the Sith?”

Palpatine sighed and frowned, turning to Master Windu.

“Our intelligence operatives risked their lives and brought back that name. If it is indeed a Sith name, then we should all be worried. If this Tyrannus is anything like the Sith few encountered on Naboo…”

Visions clawed at the edges of Padmé’s mind—yellow eyes, red skin marked by inhuman tattoos, and twin blades spinning like death. That horned monster, the Sith that struck down Qui-Gon… that day had never truly left her.

Padmé blinked, banishing the memory, and rose to her feet.

“I refuse to give up on diplomacy, Chancellor,” she said, her voice calm but steely. “But if it will ease everyone’s minds, I will accept the Jedi guards.”

She paused, her eyes cutting through the room like a vibroblade.

“But understand this—I still believe the threat comes from within the Republic. And I will not be intimidated into changing my vote.”

-

The glass elevator sped up the side of the Senatorial apartment building, two robed figures standing at its center. One, a bearded man with clean hair, stood perfectly still, a look of peace and calm on his face. The other, a young, clean shaven man with short hair and a Padawan braid, looked nervous and was fidgeting with his robes and hair, looking at his reflection on the glass. The older man smiled, and turned his head to the younger.

“Find your calm, my young apprentice. This is a mission, just like any other.”

The Padawan chuckled slightly.

“You know that's not true, Master. I haven't seen her in years. I think I'd rather be back in that gundark den.”

The master laughed and put a hand on the Padawans shoulder.

“Anakin, she is just a person. Remember your training. If I remember correctly, you told me you never wanted to see a gundark again after that.”

Anakin smiled, then stood up straight, running a finger over a stray eyebrow.

“Of course, Obi-Wan. You have to know how this feels though.”

“The Jedi are forbidden from forming attachments, Anakin. But yes, I once felt how you feel.”

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do tell, master.”

Obi-Wan's eyes gleamed softly for a moment, enough that Anakin did not see, and he sighed.

“It was nothing, Anakin. I gave her up for the order, as you must too.”

“Give her up, Master? There is nothing to give up. I haven’t seen her since I was a boy.”

Obi-Wan laughed, patting Anakin on the back.

“Your thoughts betray you, Anakin. Keep your center, Padawan, and stay calm. Remember, we are here to protect her, not to socialize.”

“Yes, Master.”

They stood in silence for a second, the cityscape growing smaller as they rose above it. Then, Anakin turned his head again and smoothed out his loose hair, smiling at his reflection. Obi-Wan nudged him and chuckled.

The elevator came to a smooth stop with a soft hiss, and the doors slid open. The Jedi stepped into a spacious apartment adorned with the delicate artistry of Naboo—sweeping curves, soft colors, and sculptures that seemed to hum with history.

A Senatorial protocol droid approached and gave a slight bow. The Jedi mirrored it.

“Welcome, Master Jedi. The Senator will be with you shortly.”

Obi-Wan stood still, hands tucked into his sleeves, a portrait of patience. Anakin shifted from foot to foot, glancing around the room as if expecting an ambush—or a goddess.

“I wonder if she’ll even remember me,” he murmured. “Feels like I’ve dreamt about her…”

He caught himself, clearing his throat as Obi-Wan arched an amused brow.

“Focus, Anakin.”

“Of course, Master. Sorry.”

Obi-Wan softened, the edges of his mouth curling in the faintest smile.

“Such thoughts are natural. But it is the way of the Jedi to acknowledge them… and let them go. Breathe. Be here.”

Anakin nodded, inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. The buzz of city air faded. He listened. Just as he had been taught. He felt the Force move through him, through Obi-Wan, through…

The apartment doors hissed open, and Padmé strode into the room with practiced grace. Her face lit up when she saw Obi-Wan.

“Master Kenobi! It’s been far too long. How are you?”

Obi-Wan offered a warm, measured smile and nodded politely.

“All has been well, Senator.”

She gave him a look and placed her hands on her hips, a playful glint in her eye.

“Please—Padmé. We’re old friends.”

Then her gaze shifted, and for a beat, her breath caught.

“And… Annie? Is that you?”

She smiled wide, eyes scanning the tall young man before her. The wide-eyed boy from Tatooine was gone, replaced by someone… well, very different. She caught herself staring a second too long and cleared her throat.

“You’ve… grown.”

Anakin looked up at her, grinning sheepishly.

“You have too,” he said. Then, realizing what he’d said, panicked. “I mean—more beautiful. You’ve always—ugh, I mean—”

Obi-Wan stepped in smoothly, placing a steadying hand on his Padawan’s shoulder.

“What my young apprentice means to say is that he’s happy to see you too.”

Padmé blushed slightly, then turned to show them into her apartment.

“Well, as good as it is to see you, you must know that I find this entirely unnecessary.”

Obi-Wan, ever focused, kept his eyes on Padmé, while Anakin stepped in and looked around, admiring the view, and the art. Months of starship bunks and Jedi barracks left him starved for something more spacious. Obi-Wan smiled and took a seat on an ornamental chair.

“Be that as it may, the Council thinks it is in your best interest to take this seriously. You could have died earlier, and it is our duty to protect those who serve the Republic.”

Padmé smiled politely, and looked at the older Jedi. He had always been formal, but this seemed almost pushing it. Anakin cleared his throat.

“What my master means to say is, we won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll- We’ll protect you.”

She turned to Anakin and flashed him a brief, genuine smile, then turned her back to the Jedi, walking towards her bedchambers.

“I appreciate it, I really do, but you and I both know I’ve survived worse than politics. This isn’t my first assassination attempt.”

Anakin took a step to follow, but Obi-Wan held an arm out.

“Of course Senator. However, if you need us, we will be close by.”

Anakin shot a glance at Obi-Wan, then back to Padmé, then sighed and sat opposite his master. Once she was out of sight, Anakin deflated slightly and fell back into his chair.

“That went horribly.”

Obi-Wan smiled and sat back as well.

“Honestly, it went better than I expected. Just remember, we have a job to do. We are not here for fraternization.”

“Yes Master. Besides, why would she want to talk to me after all that?”

Obi-Wan chuckled slightly, then turned to look at the setting sun between the skyline. He would keep his observations to himself, about the way Padmé looked at his apprentice, the whirlwind of emotions she felt. The less Anakin knew, the better.

As the twilight slowly crept into night, and the apartment had fallen asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan stood on the balcony overlooking the city, the cool night breeze mixing with the smell of speeder exhaust. Anakin was practicing his saber steps, moving with precision and alacrity, while Obi-Wan flipped through a holobook, scrolling through pages. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan, his form slipping slightly, then stopped.

“Master?”

Obi-Wan peeked over the screen of the holobook at his apprentice, already sensing his discomfort.

“Anakin?”

“Why are Jedi not allowed to form attachments?”

Obi-Wan sighed and switched off the book, setting it on his knee.

“We have gone over this Anakin.”

“Well, I still don’t understand. We are supposed to show compassion, and kindness to all, but we draw the line at love?”

“Not love, Anakin, attachment. You and I both know we all feel love. What is forbidden is allowing that love to cloud our judgement, getting too attached to any one entity.”

“Wouldn’t we be better protectors if we were attached to what we were protecting?”

Obi-Wan sighed. He had asked this same question to his master.

“Anakin, that's the trap right there. Attachment leads to fear of loss, and fear…”

“...Leads to anger, and anger to hate, I know Master, but aren’t we afraid to lose things all the time? Afraid to fail our missions, afraid to stop improving, afraid that our friends will die?”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan paused, his fingers steepled, “I understand where you are coming from, and I have often times wondered these same things, but the Jedi Code has existed this way for millenia, and we survive.”

Anakin looked out over the Coruscant skyline, and sighed slightly, then turned back to his master.

“The Jedi code also teaches that we should not be afraid of change.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, standing. His apprentice was sharp. He often wondered if he was a good teacher for the boy, then there were moments like this that assured him he was.

“That is true Anakin, that is true. For now however, let us follow the code as it is. We can leave the revolutions to the politicians.”

Anakin laughed, then walked to meet Obi-Wan halfway. He often wondered if his master was toos serious, then there were moments like this that reminded him what it was like to have a brother.

“So, who was she, master?”

“Hmm?”

“The attachment you let go of.”

“Ah. Well, believe it or not, she was a duchess.”

Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan joined him. Obi-Wan clutched Anakins' shoulder and barked in the warmth of camaraderie. Anakin tried to catch his breath, then stopped suddenly, his attention pulled to Padmés bedroom, he looked at Obi-Wan, who had stopped laughing too.

“I feel it as well.”

They took off, grabbing their sabers from their belts and charging into her room. In an instant, Anakin had leaped on her soft bed, and with a swirl of his Lightsaber, he sliced two giant worms in half. Obi-Wan ran in and turned on a light, and Padmé sprung awake, covering her nightgown with her blanket. Anakin blushed slightly, then looked out the window, the red light of a flying droid peeking through the blinds. As it began to move, Anakin felt himself moving, and dove through the window, shattering it, and grabbing onto the flying droid. Obi-Wan yelled after him, then turned to Padmé and smiled.

“Senator, do you have a speeder I can borrow?”

He looked out the window at his Padawan growing smaller in the distance.

“Preferably one with good brakes?”

-

Anakin grimaced as the wind battered his glass-cut face, his fingers gripped around a flying probe droid. He sighed loudly and adjusted his grip, looking down at the bottomless chasm of buildings and speeders below.

“Oh, of course, brilliant move Skywalker. Why don’t you just jump out the window? Ugh, Obi-Wan is going to kill me.”

He looked up at the droid, taking stock of its model, and its features. Singular optic lense, light aerofoils that worked even when supporting a stupid Padawan's weight, a hollow compartment surrounded by a laser cutter. This thing was modified specifically for assassination.

Anakin pulled himself up slightly to get a better look at the chassis. No serial number meant it couldn’t be tracked, and the model was modified enough that it couldn’t be tracked to a specific factory. Whoever worked on this bot knew what they were doing. 

The droid veered suddenly, attempting to slam Anakin into a building, but he quickly adjusted his grip to avoid losing a hand. It had safety protocols in case someone was stupid enough to try hanging on to it.

Suddenly, Anakin felt a disturbance, and saw the glint of a scope in the distance. He looked around quickly and cursed to himself.

“Damn it. Where is Obi-Wan?!”

Just as he said that, he heard the sound of a ballistic rifle firing, and the droid imploded in his hands as the bullet struck it dead on. Anakin braced himself for free fall, closing his eyes, focusing on the Force around him. He felt the wind rushing around him as he plummeted. He felt a twinge in the Force, and opened his eyes, adjusting just enough to land in the back seat of a luxury speeder. He shot up and looked at Obi-Wan, who smiled slightly. Anakin pointed up at where the rifleman was, and Obi-Wan nodded. 

Anakin leapt into the passenger seat and looked at Obi-Wan.

“What took you so long, master?”

“Oh, you know how traffic is at this time of night.”

“Switch with me, I’m the better pilot.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and shuffled with Anakin, who gleefully took the wheel and maneuvered to get to the assassin.

“This is nice, you steal it?”

“As a matter of fact, it is Padmé’s, so please make sure it gets back to her in one piece.”

Anakin gunned the throttle and the speeder took off through the night, and Obi-Wan gripped the edge of his seat as he was flung into the backrest.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate flying?!”

“Once or twice, Master.”

Anakin kept his eyes on the prize as he watched the shape of a humanoid get into a speeder of their own and start it up.

“The droid was specially built to deliver the payload, and almost led me straight to the assassin.”

“Lucky you caught it. How are those glass cuts?”

“I know Master, but it was the fastest way to find out where it was going.”

“Usually you warn me before you jump out a window.”

“Usually I have time, Master.”

The other speeder took off down a hoverlane, and Anakin swerved tightly to follow it, dodging oncoming traffic like he was still podracing.

“Did you get identification on the worms?”

“No, but we can assume they were poisonous.”

“Is Padmé ok?”

“Startled, but thankful. Slightly miffed about the hole in her window.”

“I’ll make it up to her. What's her favorite restaurant?”

“You are not going to be able to flirt your way out of paying for a transparisteel panel!”

“Oh come on Master, that's how you got out of that situation on Ryloth.”

“That was entirely different!”

Anakin made a hard swerve to match the assassins driving. He was gaining on them, and smiled to himself. He reached out with the force, and sensed their panic, and knew what he had to do.

“Master, can you take the wheel again?”

“Oh no, Anakin, whatever you are about to do, don’t.”

“Too late, Master, minds made up.”

Anakin stood up and made a force-enhanced leap, jumping onto the other speeder, lightsaber drawn. Obi-Wan sighed and grabbed the wheel, grumbling to himself.

Anakin struggled to maintain a hold as he moved towards the covered cockpit, and used his saber to carve a hole in the fuel converter. He smiled as he caught a glimpse of the woman driving, a veiled helmet covering most of her face. Their eyes met and Anakin smiled and gave a cheeky wave, then let go of the speeder and began to plummet as its engine began to sputter to a stop.

Obi-Wan made a quick movement and caught Anakin in the back seat again.

“You could have warned me you would do that!”

“And ruin the surprise?”

A plume of smoke shot out of the other speeder as it began to lose altitude, heading towards a neon lit entertainment district, holograms of Twi'leks and Bith towering over the walkways. Obi-Wan brought the speeder in for a safe landing as the other crashed down on the walkways, the capsule opening, a figure in dark purple running from the scene, blaster bolts flying towards the Jedi, the gathered populace immediately running for cover, screaming.

Before they could even land, Anakin was out and on foot in pursuit, Obi-Wan making sure to activate the anti-theft features on the speeder before following. They ran down the promenade, illuminated by shifting shades of holographic lights, curtains pointing towards a nearby bar. Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged glances.

“We’ll have to be careful in there, Anakin. Sabers stay on the belt. He could be anywhere in there.”

“I think it's a she, Master. She was wearing a violet mask, green eyes.”

“Very observant, Anakin. Keep your eyes peeled,” Obi-Wan took a step forward, then turned back around, “And no drinking. We’re on the job.”

They pushed through the bead-curtained entrance, swallowed by bass-heavy music and blazing strobe lights. The bar was packed—Twi’leks, Rodians, Zabraks, droids in trench coats, a Nikto playing sabacc with a Herglic. Smog curled in the air, glowing slightly from the neon haze. A three-eyed alien DJ bobbed behind a floating console pulsing with synthwave. On the Holoscreens, highlights of Podraces and current news flashed, interspersed with scantily clad dancers. Anakin averted his eyes and scanned the room, reaching out with the Force to fully get a feel for the room. Obi-Wan casually approached the bar and sat down, raising a hand to the Ithorian bartender.

“Corellian Ale, please. And, if you can tell me if you’ve seen a woman, masked, violet robes, rifle?”

The Ithorian hummed out an answer in his language, and Obi-Wan nodded, passing him a credit chit. He sat back on the barstool and rubbed his beard as the Ithorian turned to the taps. Somebody tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see a nervous Balosar man holding out a pack of green colored sticks.

“Hey, Jedi, you wanna buy some Deathsticks?”

Obi-Wan sighed and waved his hand.

“You don’t want to sell me Deathsticks.”

“Yeah, you’re right, you look like a narc.”

“You want to go home and rethink your life choices.”

“I… you know what, yeah, I really do.”

The man walked away, clutching his trenchcoat as if it was holding him together, and Obi-Wan smiled wryly.

At the back of the bar, Anakin scanned the room with both his eyes and the Force, trying hard not to be distracted by the rising smoke, the writhing bodies, or the yells and jeers of the patrons. He stepped through the groups of drinking Transdoshans, smoking Duros, and past an intimidating bald Zabrak with facial tattoos, keeping his eyes away from the dancing girls and the waitresses.

Obi-Wan took his glass from the Ithorian and took a quick sip, grimacing at the bitter liquid slightly before leaning forward, raising a curious eyebrow at a Rodian woman across the bar, who chuckled slightly and gave a little wave with her fingers. Obi-Wan smiled and motioned to the bartender, pointing to the woman, and the Ithorian nodded. He leaned back again, relaxed, and spoke loud enough to be heard over the din.

“Now now, you don’t really want to cause a scene and shoot a drinking man, do you?”

The blaster that was planted in his back pressed in further, and a lithe hand rested on his shoulder.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t.”

Obi-Wan smiled and raised his glass, the Rodian across the bar chuckling at the drink he had just bought her, but also eyeing the woman who had a hand on his shoulder.

“Because the man who was crazy enough to jump on your speeder in midair would not take kindly to you killing his partner.”

He felt the blaster loosen, but the hand on his shoulder tightened.

“Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“I thought the robes and the lightsaber would make it obvious. Why are you trying to kill a Senator?”

There was a pause, and her hand loosened slightly.

“Doing my job. Just like you.”

Obi-Wan turned his head slightly, and the blaster dug into his back slightly more and he stiffened, crossing his legs. 

“My job doesn’t require me to kill people.”

“You’re a Jedi. You kill all the time. At least I get paid.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and in a swift motion kicked off the bat and flipped, grabbing the blaster out of her hand before she could fire. Anakin made his move and grabbed her from behind, and she struggled slightly. Obi-Wan stood up and placed the blaster on the bar, winking at the Rodian while he did, who gasped and smiled. Anakin adjusted his grip to her wrists and pulled them behind her, and she laughed.

“You were distracting me?”

Obi-Wan smiled and unhooked her mask, revealing her angular face.

“You were distracting yourself.”

“Master, we should take her somewhere quieter.”

“Agreed. Do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin and shrugged, then motioned towards the door. Anakin led her out and she chuckled, glancing around.

“You boys always this hands-on?”

Anakin gripped her wrists tighter and furrowed his brow.

“Only when someone tries to kill a friend.”

“Shouldn’t make friends with senators, Jedi. They lie more than I do.”

Obi-Wan walked briskly, then stopped, looking around. Anakin stopped as well, reaching out with his senses. Before they could act, a slight whistling filled the air, and the assassin began convulsing. Anakin lowered her to the ground quickly and examined her, a small dart sticking out of her neck. Obi-Wan had drawn his saber, but not ignited it, looking at a nearby rooftop, where a glint of Beskar activated a jetpack and flew off behind a building.

“Damn it.”

Anakin grabbed the assassin's hands, and she smiled behind her tears, choking slightly.

“Don’t… trust… anyone…”

Her smile faded, and she went limp, and Anakin sighed, then punched the ground. Obi-Wan came over and put a hand on his shoulder as he crouched down, pulling the dart from her neck, turning it over and examining it.

“I don’t recognize this make…”

“Does it matter? She’ll never talk if she's dead. How can we find out who hired her?”

“She might not talk, but our Mandalorian friend might. Let's call this in, have someone collect the body.”

-

“This assassination plot goes deeper than we thought.”

Mace Windu's commanding voice resounded in the circular council chamber, making it seem like his voice was coming from all directions. Anakin and Obi-Wan stood in the center, the Council members seated in a circle around them. Master Yoda, looking smaller than he usually did, rubbed his chin and made a noise.

“Protect the senator, we must. Off Coruscant, safest she will be.”

Obi-Wan stepped forward, but it was Anakin who spoke up.

“Masters, if I may, she might be safest back on Naboo. Their security measures are heightened after the blockade ten years ago.”

Master Yoda glanced at Master Windu, who glared at Anakin.

“A good plan, Skywalker. It would be prudent to have a Jedi escort her. Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan glanced at his Padawan, then took a step forward.

“Master Windu, I recommend Anakin be the one to escort her. I have contacts here on Coruscant who can help me get to the bottom of who hired our assassin.”

Anakin smiled slightly, then looked at his master, surprised. Master Windu mirrored Anakins' surprised look, then turned to Master Mundi next to him.

“Your Padawan has yet to be tested on his own. Do you think this a wise first assignment?”

“Many emotions I sense in him. Much turmoil.”

Obi-Wan put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder.

“Anakin has shown great restraint in his emotions, and I believe the best way to test his resolve is to put him in a situation that will require his restraint.”

Anakin cleared his throat and smiled, then spoke.

“I won’t let you down, Masters. I promise.”

Master Unduli leaned forward and spoke.

“Remember your training, young Skywalker. May the Force be with you.”

Master Windu nodded, a small smirk running across his face.

“Then it is decided. Master Kenobi, you will follow up on the clues regarding this Mandalorian assailant, and Skywalker will escort Senator Amidala to Naboo until this assassination plot is foiled completely. May the Force be with you.”

-

The bustling spaceport was crowded, both with travellers from across the galaxy, and with blue armored Republic guards. Anakin, wearing a simple poncho and civilian clothes, his Padawan braid tucked into the back of his shirt, looked around nervously. Obi-Wan, still on full robes, smiled and ate a frozen treat from a nearby vendor.

“Calm yourself, Anakin. I know you can do this.”

“I’m not nervous about the trip Master, I’m nervous about the crowd.”

Obi-Wan took another bite, then smiled.

“If there were danger here, Anakin, we would sense it.”

Anakin nodded, then turned suddenly. There, in street clothes that made her look more like an antique vendor than a senator, was Padmé, followed closely by her white and blue astronech droid, and her baggage, pulled by a porter droid. She smiled politely at Anakin, who smiled back, blushing slightly, then she turned to Obi-Wan.

“Master Kenobi, I am counting on you to figure this all out before the Galactic Army vote. There is no way I am going to miss that.”

“Senator, I will try my best, but who knows how far down this plot goes.”

Padmé smiled politely, then turned to Anakin.

“Well, Annie, you ready for an undefined amount of time at my parents villa? I can’t promise any galactic adventures, but I can promise awkward conversation and boat rides.”

Anakin coughed slightly, then regained his composure, smiling.

“As long as you are there, I’m sure we can find some fun.”

Padmé blushed slightly and laughed, then turned to walk towards the transport. Anakin shook his head, looking like he wanted to bury himself, and Obi-Wan smiled wide, taking the last bite of his treat.

“Oh, Anakin. Chasing assassins through the air you can handle, but a week with rich parents? Remember your training, and good luck.”

Anakin swallowed hard, then smiled, then grabbed Obi-Wans shoulder.

“Good luck, Master. Don’t do anything stupid while I'm gone.”

“I was about to say the same to you, Anakin.”

They both laughed, and hugged each other, then Anakin ran to catch up to Padmé. Obi-Wan looked after them wistfully, then turned around.

“Be safe, Anakin.”

-

The alley was dark, off the beaten path of the Coruscant under city, but it was a good place to hide. Obi-Wan knew it well enough. He had come down here with his Master to meet contacts that he had made, so Obi-Wan learned to cultivate some extra-Jedi relations of his own. The underworld was always an excellent place to find info that others wanted to keep hidden, and the assassins dart was proving difficult to track. Obi-Wan, good of his robe up, knocked rythmically on a durasteel door, and it whizzd open with a grinding sound, an IG assassin droid standing behind it.

“State your business.”

“I’m here to see Jax.”

“Enter.”

Obi-Wan stepped past the droid and into the dank hallway, lit by flickering lights. He made his way to the end, and another door opened up, to a well lit room, weapons and tactical gear lining the wall. Obi-Wan grimaced slightly, seeing a wall of lightsabers next to a rack of plasma grenades.From behind a curtained back room came a man big hair and a bigger smile.

“Dank Farik! Is that Ben Kenobi?”

“Hello, Jax. Those lightsabers are from a legitimate source, I hope?”

Jax smiled and came around the counter, putting a gloved hand on Obi-Wans back.

“Ben, come on, you know I’m on the up and up! Question is, whether you are. Why you here?”

Obi-Wan reached into his pocket and pulled out the dart, dropping it into Jax’s hand. He whistled, then went behind the counter.

“Haven’t seen one of these babies in years. This right here is an antique!”

He pushed a couple buttons and a magnifying glass folded down from the ceiling, emitting a hologram of what it was magnifying. On the side of the dart was text in a language Obi-Wan didn’t recognize. Jax smiled then turned the dart over, showing off the intricate details of it.

“This is a Kaminoan Saberdart. Sleek, efficient, and fillable with most poisons. The text reads ‘swift death to my enemies’.”

Obi-Wan looked at the magnifying dart, rubbing his beard.

“I never heard of Kaminoans.”

“You wouldn’t’ve. They were a secretive folk, liked to keep the mystery about ‘em. Dissapeared years ago, heard they got into dirty business.”

“I’ll have to see if the archives have any info on them. Know where their planet was?”

Jax held out a hand, and Obi-Wan sighed, fishing out a credit chit from his belt. Jax smiled, then shut off the magnifyer.

“Heard they were near the Rishi Maze, just outside the galactic plane. You selling this thing? I have some buyers who would be mighty interested in it.”

“Sorry Jax, it’s evidence.”

“Damn. Well when you’re done with it…”

Jax was interrupted as the sound of blaster fire erupted down the hallway, then the sound of the IG droid collapsing to the floor. Obi-Wan quickly leaped behind the counter while Jax grabbed a bowcaster off the wall. The door slid open, and a bald Zabrak woman, dressed in white and purple robes, walked in, smiling. Obi-Wan stayed hidden, waiting for the right time to jump in. Jax laughed slightly, then lowered the bowcaster.

“Ventress! Good to see you, except for the fact that now I need a new door droid.”

“Can it, Sceptor. Where is the dart?”

“Dart? What dart? I got tons of darts…” 

Suddenly Jax made a choking sound and rose off the ground, and Obi-Wans reclassified her threat level: possible Sith? Visions of Darth Maul flashed in his brain, and he shivered slightly. He pulled out his saber and leapt over the counter, and Jax fell down. Obi-Wan smiled and ignited his saber.

“Hello there.”

The Zabrak smiled back, sizing him up.

“Who do we have here? A Jedi rat?”

“Better than a Sith vulture.”

“Oh, I like you.” 

Ventress held out a hand and a plasma grenade flew to it, and she smiled.

“It’s a shame to kill such a cute Jedi.”

She threw the activated grenade at Obi-Wan and bolted out the door, and Obi-Wan used the Force to send the grenade up to the ceiling while he dove behind the counter. The entire store went up in flames as the grenade exploded, causing the grenades on the wall to explode as well. The ceiling caved in, and the room filled with dust. Obi-Wan quickly pulled Jax into the backroom, but found his body limp and unresponsive. He gave a quick feel to his neck and sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Jax.”

He stood up, pushing debris aside with the force and rushed out down the hallway to follow. He got to the alley and looked around, but no luck. She was gone.

“Well, of course she disappeared.”

-

The dining hall aboard the transport ship buzzed with the chatter of travelers and the clatter of utensils. R2-D2 rolled through the crowd with surprising grace, weaving between tables until he reached Padmé and Anakin. With a soft whistle, he extended his arms and placed two trays in front of them.

Anakin grinned mid-sentence. “—and then Obi-Wan says, ‘Anakin, I don’t think this is the princess!’”

Padmé burst into laughter, quickly covering her mouth with one hand. “That’s ridiculous!” She reached out with the other to pat R2’s dome affectionately. “Thank you, R2.”

Anakin chuckled. “Not all our missions are like that, though. Some... let’s just say a Jedi isn’t a stranger to violence.”

Padmé’s expression shifted. She picked up her fork, studying him for a moment before taking a bite. “Neither is a senator, honestly.”

 “Senators usually don’t have to kill people.”

Padmé’s eyes didn’t leave her plate. “Doesn’t mean we don’t.”

Anakin looked down, silent for a second. Then he took a bite and smiled.

“This is better than the Temple food, at least.”

“Do you like living in the Temple? I’ve never been.”

Anakin looked up and grinned.

“You would like it. It's pretty there. A little lonely though…”

“Lonely?”

Anakin sighed, then put down his fork.

“I’m… I’m not deaf. I hear the masters talking about what Qui-Gon told them about me. They say I’m the… ‘Chosen One’. That I'm supposed to bring balance. How can I bring balance when everyone treats me like some savior?”

Padmé reached out and gently touched his hand, smiling. Anakin smiled back, then pulled his hand away.

“The Jedi also warn about… attachment.”

“Attachment?”

“Yeah. We are forbidden from forming attachments to people or places. We have to treat everyone the same, and not let anyone get close.”

Padmé frowned, then looked down.

“What about Obi-Wan? He practically raised you after…”

She stopped, then looked up at him, a tear forming in his eye.

“No, not even our masters. If they… die… we are supposed to just move on. No mourning, just… acceptance.”

Padmé looked at him and sighed.

“That's inhuman.”

“That's the Jedi Way. We are supposed to separate ourselves from the world around us while also being compassionate and protective. It's paradoxical.”

Padmé looked down again, then blushed slightly.

“What about… love?”

Anakin looked up, flabbergasted, then looked down again.

“We are supposed to love everyone.”

“I meant, romantic love.”

“Oh. Um. No, that's forbidden.”

Padmé took another bite, as if to fill her mouth before she said something more, and Anakin followed suit. R2 looked between the two of them and gave a low whistle, then rolled away to anywhere else.

-

Obi-Wan wandered into the Jedi library, covered in soot, dust, and a little blood. Jocasta Nu, the Jedi archivist, looked up and startled, running over to him.

“Master Kenobi, what happened?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid. I need information on a planet called Kamino.”

“Kamino? Can’t say I’m familiar. Is it a person or…”

“A planet, near the Rishi Maze. Apparently they are very secretive.”

Jocasta looked over Obi-Wan's clothes, then at her very clean Archive floor, and smiled politely.

“If you stay put, Master Kenobi, I can bring you a Datapad to browse through.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Jocasta vanished behind shelves of Datapad and Holobooks, and Obi-Wan coughed, a thin cloud of dust forming around him. He nodded politely at a Togrutan Padawan that passed by, and tried not to get the counter dirty. Jocasta returned with a Datapad in hand and handed it gingerly over to Obi-Wan, a long with a bacta wipe, which he accepted graciously, wiping his hands before touching the pad. 

“Thank you, Master Nu.”

He turned on the pad and began searching for Kamino. No results. He searched Kaminoan. No results. He searched for the Saber Dart. No results. He looked up planetary systems of the Rishi Maze. 20 results, none for Kamino.

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin, then typed out ‘Ventress’. One result, Asajj Ventress. He tapped on the file and it pulled up an image of a teenaged Zabrak, silver-white hair falling over her face. She was a Padawan of Jedi Master Kyle Narec. Ky Narec was killed on the Planet Rattatak, Ventress was presumed dead as well. They would have to update their file.

“Ky Narec? I didn’t know he had a Padawan…” Obi-Wan whispered to himself as he put down the Datapad, calling Master Nu over. She nodded and approached.

“Jocasta, is it possible that the archives have been tampered with?”

She frowned and picked up the data pad.

“Impossible. One would have to be a high ranking Jedi to have editorial rights to the Archive.”

“I see. It's only that Kamino doesn’t seem to be in the system, and I have it on good authority that it exists.”

“Well, whoever told you that may have been ill informed. If it is not in the Archive, it doesn’t exist.”

“Wonderful. Thank you, Master Nu.”

“You are most welcome, Master Kenobi. Might I recommend a trip to a cleansing pod?”

Obi-Wan smiled politely and turned around, heading towards the Council Chamber. Someone had edited the archive. He would have to find out who, and why.

As he made his way towards the Grand Spire, he heard the giggle of children, and the familiar sound of Master Yoda’s teachings. He leaned in the classroom to see a group of younglings doing training remote drills, and he smiled.

“Reach out, children. Feel, don’t think.” 

Master Yoda glanced over at Obi-Wan and smiled, then lowered his hands, the training remotes slowly sinking to the floor.

“A visitor we have, younglings. Say hello to Master Kenobi.”

The children, in unison, greeted him and he bowed to them.

“I hate to interrupt, Master Yoda, but I seem to have found a problem with the Archive.”

Yoda laughed, then turned to the children.

“A problem with the Archive, he says. Help him we shall.”

“I was hoping to speak to you privately.”

“In front of my students, anything you can say. Tell us, you shall.”

Obi-Wan sighed, then walked into the classroom, pulling out a holographic bead from his cloak. The classroom filled with a star chart of the Galaxy, and the children ooed and awwed. 

“I was looking for a planet, and the Archive says that it does not exist.”

“Lost a planet, Master Kenobi has. Very sad, very very sad.”

The children laughed, and Obi-Wan smiled politely, already tense.

“Yes, unfortunately. My source told me that the planet was near the Rishi Maze, “ Obi-Wan waved his hands and the star map moved and zoomed, coming to a rest on the Rishi Maze area, “Based on my own investigation, the planet should be in this area, but there is nothing here.”

Master Yoda hobbled over and pointed at the area.

“Notice anything, do you, children?”

The children all gathered closer, then squinted their eyes. One child, a Dug, pointed at an area of empty space.

“That place looks like it still has gravity.”

“Very good, child. Look for the ghost of gravity we do, if a planet missing we have.”

Obi-Wan looked at the area and noticed how the other stars in the area were affected by something not there and sighed.

“It looks like you found my planet, little one. Thank you.”

The child beamed, and all the other children laughed and started talking about gravity arcs, and orbit cycles, and Yoda smiled.

“The mind of a child, sometimes we need.”

“It is true. A mind unclouded by assumptions is a powerful thing.”

Yoda came in closer to Obi-Wan, and he leaned down to hear him better.

“Concerned I am, Master Kenobi. Impossible it is for our archives to be hacked. Investigate you must.”

“Of course Master. It also seems that we are dealing with a fallen Padawan as well, by the name of Asajj Ventress.”

“More concerning this is. Careful you must be.”

-

The low murmurs of the crowded Theed spaceport announced the arrival of Padmé and Anakin, R2 following close behind them. Padmé stood in the open courtyard and breathed in the Naboo air, a look of peace on her face. Anakin just looked at her and smiled, his heart skipping a beat.

“I bet it feels good to be home.”

Padmé opened her eyes and reached out a hand to Anakin, smiling.

“You have no idea. Coruscant is nice, but the air here is so crisp, and the sun just feels different.”

Anakin took her hand and they walked through the courtyard, drawing no stares or attention from the passersby. If anyone recognizes Padmé, they kept it to themselves.

“Annie, do you ever miss your home?”

Anakin took a sharp breath, then turned to look at the intricately painted Theban wall.

“I miss my mother sometimes. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. As for Tatooine…”

He smiled slightly, and then looked Padmé in the eye.

“If I never go back to that planet, it will be too soon.”

Padmé squeezed his hand tighter and smiled, but she couldn’t help but see the loneliness in his eyes.

“I can understand that. I only spent a couple days there and was still finding sand in my hair for weeks.”

Anakin laughed, running his hand through his hair instinctively.

“Oh, don’t get me started on the sand. It got everywhere! You have no clue how frustrating it was to brush sand out of the machines I was working on every 5 minutes.”

Padmé laughed, feeling herself getting lighter. Coruscant felt years away, the Senate chambers and political committees seeming distant and from another time.

“Growing up here was no cake walk either.”

Anakin gave her an incredulous look, then motioned to the beautiful buildings of Theed.

“Oh really?”

Padmé let go of his hand and pushed him playfully.

“Shut up. No, really. Can you imagine the expectations there were for me? I became Queen at 13. My entire life was learning how to lead, how to put others before myself. Even now, with the Senate, I feel like I traded a planet full of people looking up to me for a Galaxy.”

Anakin looked down at the ground, his smile faltering.

“At least you got to choose to be a senator. Being a Jedi was almost forced upon me. I mean, I am more than thankful to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, and it beats being a slave, but…”

Anakin stopped suddenly, looking off into the distance slightly.

“My life has been chosen for me. Sometimes I think I still am a slave, just this time to the Order instead of a back alley junk dealer…”

Padmé looked at him, really looked at him, and she felt tears welling in her eyes. She reached over and put a hand on his chest, gently.

“Oh, Anakin…”

Anakin seemed to snap back to attention, then smiled sadly. He touched her hand softly, then began to walk again.

“But I have a duty now. I protect those who can’t protect themselves. It's what I always wanted.”

Padmé forced a smile and caught up to him, fidgeting with her cloak.

“That why I decided to be a Senator. I wanted to protect the whole galaxy the way I protected Naboo. After the blockade, and with Palpatine gaining power, I thought I had a good chance to make a change.”

“Palpatine seems like a good man, even if he is a politician.”

Padmé smirked and looked at him.

“Oh, what's wrong with politicians?”

Anakin smirked back, putting a hand on his hip.

“Well, everything they say always has hidden meaning. They can never just come out and say what they mean. Even Palpatine speaks in riddles.”

“Well, he has to keep the Republic on his side. After Chancellor Valorum was voted out, Sheev has to make sure he keeps everyone happy.”

“It doesn’t seem to be working, does it? Systems talking about succeeding, senators being targeted, even Jedi have left the Order.”

Padmé tightened slightly, looking down forlornly.

“I’ve been fighting these past years to make the Republic better. There are other Senators, from Chandrilla, Alderaan, Mon Calamari, Rodia, all of us have been fighting hard to make this Republic live up to its namesake. But these corporations, and shady back alley deals… it feels like credits are more important than people sometimes.”

Anakin soberly looked at her, then took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, I care about people more than credits. So you have me on your side.”

Padmé squeezed back and gave him a gentle smile, and they stopped, looking into each other's eyes for a moment. Then, R2 beeped and booped in protest, and they snapped out of their trance, laughing awkwardly. A Theed guard waved them down, and they made their way to the waiting speeder, each of them mulling over the conversation.

-

Obi-Wan braced as his starfighter dropped out of hyperspace, the swirl of stars collapsing into the steady darkness of realspace. He exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders as he disengaged the hyperspace ring and guided his ship forward.

Below him, the storm-wracked sphere of Kamino loomed, shrouded in endless cloud cover, lightning veins flickering beneath the surface like an angry nerve. Only the occasional break in the cloud layer offered glimpses of a restless, dark ocean.

He checked his scanners. Structures, large ones, hovering above the waves. Signs of life, artificial and organic.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow and muttered to himself.

“Our impossible planet... right where it’s supposed to be.”

As he entered the atmosphere, the cockpit rattled and shook, making him wish he were back at the Temple, meditating and drinking hot caf. He held on for dear life until the clouds broke and the gentle patter of rain fell on the windscreen. He plotted a course to the largest detected settlement and chimed for landing clearance. With a ding, a green light appeared; permission granted. He counted his lucky stars and prepped for landing.

As he landed, he took note of the rounded architecture of the floating city, lit serenely by luminescent lamps. On his side, he noticed a flying reptile of some sort, half the size of his fighter, which gave a roar and dove into the waves. Obi-Wan reminded himself that he would not be swimming today. As his fighter came to a landing, he noticed a tall, slender being standing in a well lit vestibule at the end of the landing bay, long neck and small head tilted curiously. He put on his hood and opened the cockpit, rain pattering on the Corellian leather seat. He hopped down onto the platform and rushed to get out of the rain, the vestibule door opening automatically for him.

He removed his hood, and gave a nod of greeting to the tall being waiting for him, who bowed reverently to him.

“Greetings, Master Jedi. We’ve been expecting you.”

Obi-Wan wiped a wet hand through his hair and tried to hide his surprise.

“Very good. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“I am Lama Su. We were beginning to think your Republic forgot about us. You will be pleased to know production is well ahead of schedule.”

Obi-Wan looked at her blankly for just a moment, then snapped to attention.

“Excellent. That's why I'm here. My… superiors sent me to review the product.”

Lama Su smiled politely, and seemingly glided to the other side of the vestibule, her long, thin arms moving effortlessly to guide Obi-Wan through the door.

“Please let them know that everything is going according to Master Sifo-Diyas’s plans. 300 regiments are already trained and armored, with another 500 finishing training within the month.”

As they walked down the hallway, a man passed by, chiseled jaw, black hair, and a clean pressed uniform. He saluted Obi-Wan, who saluted back with a wry smile. The man nodded and turned back to go down the hall. Obi-Wan glanced back at him and then turned around to find a group of identical men saluting him, to whom he gave a confused nod.

“Yes… well, unfortunately, Master Sifo-Diyas is no longer with us. I will be taking over logistics of his project. I am Master… Jax Sceptor.”

“I am sorry to hear of his passing, Master Sceptor. Please pass along our condolences.”

“Of course. Now, I would like a full rundown of the work that's been done already, please.”

They passed by a windowed medical bay, another Kaminoan doing a physical exam on a naked, identical man, a young girl with blonde hair holding a Datapad, entering figures much too advanced for someone her age. Obi-Wan shook his head as he passed by more saluting, identical men, these one in white plastiform armor, white helmets tucked under their arms.

“Of course. The cloning process began 10 years ago, at the behest of Master Sifo-Diyas, all paid in advance by the Republic. His contacts provided the DNA donor for us, and we began perfecting the genetic code, as well as the mental template.”

Obi-Wan's brain was reeling. There was no record of this in the Archives, it hadn’t been mentioned at any point by the council. To top it all off, Master Sifo-Diyas died 10 years ago. Obi-Wan smiled and ignored the next set of saluting men as they passed into a glass domed hallway looking out over what could only be described as a baby factory.

“Mental template?”

“Oh yes. The clones are completely obedient, trained to follow orders, and are in perfect combat condition. An obedience chip keeps track of their brain signatures, and will offer corrections if they stray too far from programming.”

“Good. Wonderful. I’m sorry, I was just assigned this, but who are they trained to combat?”

“Why, enemies of the Republic. What good is an army that isn’t trained to fight?”

Below them, in the factory, a Kaminoan technician gently tapped on a glass wall. Dozens of infant clones turned in unison, eyes tracking the movement like training droids. He kept walking, but his chest had gone tight. The Republic paid for this? Ten years ago? While the Jedi were mediating peace talks and food shortages? And this talk of obedience chips and mental programming? He had heard such language before, but from Hutt slave traders on Nar Shadda, not technicians treating babies like droids.

“Yes. Right,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat as they passed a room full of children doing target practice in unison, moving as if they possessed one mind, “Tell me, what advantages are there to using… these people over droids?”

“Thank you for asking, Master Sceptor. A droid is programmed for absolute obedience, and not for creative thinking. Our clone soldiers are not only trained to think creatively, but have enough free will to form individual personalities and preferences. Each clone soldier is worth 100 droids, in terms of strategy and combat experience. With a genetic failure rate of .01%, we guarantee each soldier is perfect and combat ready on deployment.”

“Ah, I see. If they are given a modicum of free will, what prevents them from rebelling?”

“Brilliant question, Master Jedi. The aforementioned obedience chip detects rebellious thoughts and terminates defective units on the spot.”

Obi-Wan tightened his fists, but resisted the urge to stop walking. Termination? Defective? She was speaking as if they weren’t growing child slaves for a war that hasn’t happened yet. He forced a smile and nodded in a way that he hoped seemed thoughtful. She continued the tour of the production floor, speaking about efficiency quotas and accuracy ratings, but Obi-Wan was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how this related to an assassination attempt on a senator.

When they reached the end of the hall, one of the clones, his hair bleached blonde and shaved on the sides, saluted.

“General, a pleasure to meet you. I am CC-2224, but you can call me Cody.”

“The… pleasure is all mine Cody. Lama Su tells me that you are out army.”

“Yessir. I am in Command of the 7th Sky Corps, sir.”

“Well, Commander Cody, hopefully we meet again.”

“Yessir.”

Cody marched on by and Lama Su smiled.

“Perfect. As if talking to the donor himself.”

Obi-Wan quieted the internal voice screaming at him to end all this, to burn the whole thing to the ground, and turned to Lama Su with a smile. 

“You keep mentioning the donor. My… files on him seem to have gone missing. Can you provide information?”

“Of course. The donor is a Mandalorian Male named Jango Fett. Originally a soldier, he is now a professional bounty hunter. We provide comfortable living arrangements for him and his son, and keep him close, just in case we need to take more genetic samples.”

“His son?”

“Oh yes, one of the stipulations of his contract. He wished for a pure, unadjusted clone as a child for him to raise. He and another woman, Zam Wessel, were raising him together, though I sensed no familial bond between the two.”

“Let me guess, she was a bounty hunter as well?”

“Indeed. Recently, Jango came back from a mission in the Core Regions. You may meet him if you like.”

So the assassin was involved as well. This went so much deeper than the assassination of a single senator. But why target Padmé? 

“Yes, I would very much like the man who is responsible for this… army.”

-

The Naboo sun cast a sweet glow on the Riverside Village as it set, the call of birds filling the twilit sky as Anakin and Padmé dined on a covered terrace overlooking the water, their laughter echoing off the wooded canyon walls.

“So then Obi-Wan says, ‘You call this a diplomatic solution?’, and the pirate said, ‘No, I call it aggressive negotiations!’”

Padmé snorted, banging the table with laughter, and Anakin guffawed. R2 beeped and gave a dismissive shake of his domed head.

“No, Annie, I’m stealing that! I am all for aggressive negotiations!”

“Please, the pirate isn’t using it anymore! Not a lot of negotiating in Republic prison, from what I’ve heard!”

They laughed and ate, the gentle wind pleasantly chilling the air around them. Padmé shivered slightly, and Anakin smiled, using the force to drape his poncho over her. She smiled at him, their eyes locking from across the table.

“This is nice. I’m so happy you came, Annie.”

“Me too.”

After dinner, Padmé led him to the rooftop and showed him the stars, naming the constellations with her hand in his, shoulders touching on the slanted tiles. She wrapped an arm around his and leaned her head onto his shoulder, and he looked down at her and smiled, happy to forget about the Jedi for a while. Groggily, she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Annie, you should stay here with me.”

Anakins' heart skipped a beat, and he frowned.

“I would give everything if I could, but we can’t.”

“I know. But this is nice. This night should last forever.”

Anakin looked up at the stars, burning bright above them, and sighed.

“It can. As long as we remember it.”

“Hey Annie? Can I do something stupid?”

Anakin laughed and turned to look at her, and she pulled him in and kissed him, long and deep. He tried to pull away, but his body wouldn’t let him, so he closed his eyes, and fell into it. When she pulled back, he smiled, and looked her in the eyes.

“Was that the stupid thing, or should I be expecting more?”

Padmé laughed, and he pulled her in and kissed her again until they heard the familiar blaring beeps of R2 from a balcony adjacent to them. They laughed and gave each other a quick peck, before Anakin chuckled.

“Our chaperone caught us. Looks like curfews up, Senator.”

“Until tomorrow, then, Master Jedi.”

-

Lama Su led Obi-Wan down a maze of corridors before arriving in a brightly colored hallway, a departure from the cold and clinical cloning facility. As they walked down the hall, Obi-Wan got a slight tingling from the Force, a small warning that something wasn’t right. He smiled slightly. He knew something wasn’t right: he was on a world erased from the Jedi Archives where a dead Jedi had ordered an army of clones taken from the genetic material of a man who was implicated in the death of an assassin who tried to kill a senator. There was so much not right about this situation, that the slight tingle of the Force made him question how it could get worse.

Lama Su stopped at a small doorway and rang a bell. The door opened, and a child, no more than 11, opened the door. 

“Lama Su, hello.”

“Hello, Boba, is your father home?”

Boba looked at Obi-Wan with a sneer, then turned his head inside.

“Dad! Lama Su and a Jedi are here!”

The door closed again, and Obi-Wan heard a miffed conversation from within, then it opened again, and Obi-Wan was greeted by an older, more grizzled version of the same face he had seen on each of the soldiers. The man nodded to Lama Su, who bowed slightly, then glided away, leaving Obi-Wan and the man alone. The man, Jango Fett, looked Obi-Wan up and down, then opened his door wider, inviting him in.

“So, are you here to investigate your clones, or for something else.”

“To be honest, I am no longer sure why I am here. I do have some questions regarding a recent trip you took to Coruscant.”

Jango pulled a chair out for him at a wooden table, a Mandalorian symbol burned into the table face. He poured a glass of Chandrillan Brandy for himself, then offered the bottle to Obi-Wan, who shook his head.

“It was a business trip. Nothing more.”

“If that business involves the killing of an assassin…”

Jango held a finger up to his mouth, and motioned to Boba, who was watching from the hallway. Jango turned to him and frowned slightly.

“Boba, can you go to the commissary? I’m out of Kovakian Jerky.”

“But dad…”

“Now, Boba.”

Boba tightened his fists and nodded, then turned and left the home. Jango sighed, rubbing his eyes and gulping down his glass.

“He doesn’t know yet. Zam was a good woman, and she took care of him.”

“Then why kill her?”

“I told you. Business. Somebody paid a lot of money for the Senator job, and one of the stipulations was that there be no talking to the authorities if things went south. But I'm no fool. I’m tired of this game, this cushy life. Why do you think it was so easy to find me?”

“Trust me, this was not easy. Somebody went through a lot of trouble to make Kamino disappear.”

Jango looked down at his glass, then refilled it.

“Figures. What did you do with her body?”

“Turned it over to the proper authorities.”

“That's what we expected you to do. Here's the deal, Jedi. I tell you who hired me, and you let me and the boy walk out of here. You can say you killed me, or that I escaped. I don’t care. I’m a Mandalorian. Mine was supposed to be a warrior's life, not one of being on retainer while a delusional man plays war.”

Obi-Wan sat up in his chair, and he felt it again, the Force telling him something was wrong. He looked around, trying to get a feel for what it was, but the feeling was murky.

“For your child's sake, I accept these terms.”

“Good. I was hired by a man named Tyranus. He paid me good money to do this job, after I took care of a Jedi problem for him. He told me to call him Sifo-Diyas in public, and I accepted. Since then, he’s had me take out political targets on hundreds of worlds, all so he could rise to power.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Do you have any proof of this?”

Jango reached into his pocket and pulled out a data stick.

“Had all my contracts loaded on here. I knew someone would come looking for me.”

“Very smart. It's a deal then.”

As if Obi-Wan accepting was a trigger, the window behind Jango shattered inward, spraying glass and rain all over the apartment. Obi-Wan shielded his eyes from the glass, looking up in time to see a red lightsaber blade sticking through Jango's chest, a slender, pale hand grabbing the data stick, Ventress' face pressed to the side of his. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as he gurgled out his final breath, then smiled at Obi-Wan.

“What a naughty boy. Looks like I'll have to kill you again, Jedi.”

Obi-Wan was over the table, lightsaber drawn before Jango's body slumped over, and Ventress was out the window, the glow of her lightsaber casting a glow on the falling rain. Obi-Wan leapt out the window after her, both scrambling onto the slick, rounded roof. Before Ventress could gain ground, Obi-Wan was on her, and she expertly blocked his swing, their lightsabers hissing with evaporating rain.

“Asajj, why? You were a Jedi once!”

“No fair, I don't even know your name yet.”

She crouched down and pulled out a second saber, and Obi-Wan barely blocked it. He followed up with a Force Push towards the ground, launching himself up out of her range, then he came back down, barely grazing her cloak.

“This isn’t a game, Ventress!”

“Only someone who’s losing says that, dear.”

She swung again, and he blocked both sabers, then pushed her onto the backfoot. She grimaced, then smiled, turning off one of her sabers and running towards the edge of the roof. Obi-Wan was right after her, the rain pelting his face, making it hard to see. As approached the edge, she turned suddenly and sent a wave of force through the rain, directed at the ground. Obi-Wan didn’t catch it on time, and felt his boots slip from under him as he slid off the roof.

“So long, lover. Let's not do this again!”

Then she turned and disappeared into the rain. Obi-Wan thought fast, and grabbed a grappling hook from his belt and threw it just far enough to catch on a y-beam, and he swung haphazardly on the scaffolding beneath the apartments. He caught his breath, then sighed deeply.

“I hope Anakin is having a better time than I am…”

-

Anakin awoke in a cold sweat, the morning sun peeking through the blinds in his room in the villa. He looked around, pale, as if he had just seen a ghost, then sighed deeply. He inhaled and exhaled, just like he Jedi taught him, trying to center himself, but he felt the sob coming in his chest, and fought to keep it down. He had been having the same dream for a week. His mother, bloodied, beaten, tied up, calling his name begging him to come save her. He knew it was just a dream, but he also knew that the Force speaks to Jedi in their sleep sometimes. His mother was in danger. He knew it. He also knew that this was the kind of attachment the Jedi warned against. So, for a week, he had been forcing it down, fighting with every bit of his 

willpower to stay focused on the present.

He stood up, wearing just his trousers, and went onto the porch, soaking in the Naboo sun. The dream left his mind momentarily, and then he remembered the night before; the stars, the laughs, the… kiss. No, he thought. That was just more attachment. He punched the railing of the balcony. He was supposed to be the Chosen One, the one who brought balance. How could he do that if he was unbalanced himself?

“Good Morning.”

Behind him, Padmé's quiet voice surprised him, and he turned, forcing a smile. She was wearing a nightgown with a shawl over the top, and he forced himself to not look at her like that. He replied in a way that he hoped sounded natural, but instead sounded curt.

“Good morning.”

Padmé frowned, then came over to him, reaching over to touch his chest, but he recoiled.

“Anakin, what's wrong?”

He sighed, then relaxed his shoulders. He wasn’t alone here. She might understand. She wasn’t a Jedi.

“I… dreamt about my mother last night. She was… screaming, in pain, calling for me.”

Padmé held a hand up to her mouth, gasping slightly. Anakin turned away from here and looked out on the river.

“The Jedi tell me that I need to let go of attachment, but it's my mother, Padmé. She needs me. But I can't let everyone down, they're counting on me to be better! I need to be the best of the Jedi, and I can’t!”

Padmé fought back her tears, and stayed silent, then turned to face Anakins' back, which was shivering.

“Jedi are supposed to help those in need, right?”

Anakin nodded.

“Then it doesn’t matter who is calling for help. Only that someone is. And you swore to protect people, didn’t you?”

Anakin stopped shivering, then turned around, a slight grin on his face.

“I can see why politicians are dangerous.”

Padmé smiled mischievously, then turned to her room. She paused at the door, looked over her shoulder, and softened.

 “Go get dressed, Annie. We have an innocent to save.”

-

Obi-Wan's ship hung in orbit above Kamino, its pilot carefully nursing glass cuts on his face with a bacta wipe. A hologram of Mace Windu and Yoda glowed from the console. Obi-Wan winced as he dabbed at a particularly deep scratch, doing his best to stay framed in the projection.

“Unfortunately, Ventress escaped with the data stick,” he said. “But I believe what this bounty hunter died to tell me. Someone is orchestrating a war—on a galactic scale—and they’re making it look like the Jedi are behind it.”

The holographic Mace Windu crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. Beside him, Yoda sat silently, twirling his cane between clawed fingers.

“Worrisome, this is,” Yoda murmured. “Tell the Republic of this clone army, we must.”

Mace shifted, putting his hands on his hips. 

“And convenient, isn’t it? An army appears just as the Senate prepares to vote on creating one. I suspect this was the plan all along.”

Obi-Wan pressed a hand to his temple, eyes closing.

“If someone in the Republic is complicit... it might explain why Padmé was targeted. She’s been the loudest opponent of the Military Creation Act.”

Yoda nodded solemnly and gestured toward Obi-Wan.

“Follow the tracker on Ventress, you must. Lead us to this Tyranus, she will.”

“There’ve been whispers that Darth Tyranus is manipulating Dooku from behind the scenes,” Obi-Wan said. “If he was the master of the Sith we faced on Naboo… this plot has been in motion for years.”

He looked up at the mention of Maul, the weariness in his eyes deepening. 

“That would make Ventress his new apprentice. And if this plan is that old, then it wouldn’t take much—just one Jedi, perhaps Dooku before he left the Order—to erase Kamino from the archives.”

Yoda tilted his head. 

“A pawn, think Dooku was, before he left you do?”

“I’m saying we need to consider every possibility,” Obi-Wan said. “As much as I hate to implicate Dooku… it fits.”

Mace stepped forward in the projection and gave a firm nod. 

“Alright. Kenobi, follow Ventress’ beacon to its source. We’ll begin investigating who in the Republic stands to gain the most from a war.”

Obi-Wan’s expression darkened.

“You should warn the Chancellor. I don’t trust him, but I don’t think he has the vision to mastermind something like this. Still… he may help narrow the suspects.”

“Warn Palpatine, we will,” Yoda said. “Delay the vote, he must.”

“Good luck, Master Kenobi, and may the Force be with you.”

“And also with you, Master Windu, Master Yoda.”

With that, the hologram cut out, and Obi-Wan sighed, resting his head on the console.

“The Galaxy will survive while I take a quick nap…”

-

The sleek Naboo cruiser shone blindingly in the twin Suns of Tatooine as it lowered into the Mos Espa spaceport, pit droids and astromechs scrambling to greet the occupants. Padmé strode out like a queen, and Anakin almost crept after her, gingerly stepping off the ships ramp.

“I can’t believe I'm back on this damn planet… Alright, if anyone knows where my mother is, it would be that old sleemo Watto.”

“Do you think he still has his junk shop?”

“After how much he bet against me? I’d be surprised if he was allowed to clean bantha poodu for the Hutts.”

As they left the spaceport and entered Mos Espa proper, Anakin immediately knew his way around. They swung by the old junk shop, now owned by a Gamorean mother and her bakery, then asked around with the other junk dealers. Each shop they entered, Anakin stared at the slaves cleaning the pieces, scampering for food, or being yelled at by their owners, and his anger grew. After half a day of searching, Anakin collapsed in a shaded alley, breathing heavily.

“Damn it!” 

He threw a piece of junk against a nearby wall, covering his face with his sleeve. Padmé put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he touched it with his. He looked at her with tears in his eyes.

“I promised that when I came back here, it would be to free all the slaves. Instead I’m wading through every seedy shop in town looking for the blasted Toydarian who used to own me!”

Padmé kissed his forehead and squeezed his shoulder tight.

“We’ll find him, Anakin. I promise.”

Next to them, the junk and trash shifted, and a raspy voice echoed from within a metal box.

“Anakin? Little Annie?”

From within the box, out crawled a wrinkled Toydarian, a pit droids head rim around his head like a hat. Anakin looked at him in disbelief.

“Watto?”

“Eh… Annie! It is you! Look how big a you are!”

Watto went to put a hand on Anakins' shoulder, but he stood up out of his reach. Watto sighed and waved his hand.

“Ugh, I get it. Don’t a want me to a touch your fancy Jedi robes.”

“Watto, where's my mother?”

“Shmi? I sold her to pay for a speeder out of here. Of course, the speeder didn’t run, but eh, you get what you pay for.”

“Watto! Who. Did. You. Sell. Her. Too?”

“What, you think information is free. I live in a friggin’ box, Annie! The least you could do is buy me a meal!”

Anakin picked him up by his bantha-hide vest and put him at eye level.

“Tell me where she is, or I swear…”

“Anakin!”

Padmé grabbed his arm and he looked at her then back at Watto, who was trembling. He gently lowered him to the ground, then turned around. Padmé walked over to Watto and crouched down.

“Watto, please. She may be in danger. Maybe this will help.”

She pulled out a credit chit, and Watto held out his hand.

“No, Republic credits are no good here. If Shmi is in trouble though, I’ll talk. I sold her to a moisture farmer on the Northern Ridge, named Clieg Lars. I heard he freed her, and then married her. If she is anywhere, she is there.”

Padmé put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled a greasy smile. Anakin turned around and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Thank you, Watto. Hopefully something turns up that will get you a better box.*

“Eh, one can hope. You did good for yourself, kid. If you ever podrace again, win some money for Ol' Watto.”

“No promises. Pretty sure if I tried to enter, Sebulba would blast my kneecaps.”

“Eh, you should see his box. Now there's a good box!”

“Goodbye Watto.”

-

“You are certain about this?”

Palpatine was pacing in his office, Master Yoda and Master Windu sitting across from his desk. Mace put a hand to his head and sighed.

“Master Kenobi confirmed it. We thought something like this should be brought to your attention immediately.”

Palpatine sat at his desk and put a hand over his eyes. He pushed a button on his chair panel, and a hologram of a protocol droid appeared.

“T4, please tell the Senators that we will be postponing the Military Creation Act vote until further notice. Also notify the Coruscant Star that I have an important announcement to make to the Republic.”

“Right away sir.” 

The hologram faded out, and Palpatine sighed loudly, leaning on his desk.

“How could something like this happen right under our noses? You would think someone would notice an army being created.”

Master Yoda shifted on his cane and stood up from his chair.

“The Dark Side clouds everything, Chancellor. Always, our enemies stay two steps ahead.”

“Something must be done about this. Your man, Master Kenobi? Are you certain he can get to the bottom of this before it is too late?”

Master Windu stood up and put his hands in his sleeves.

“If f anyone can, it’s Master Kenobi. You forget, it was him who slew that Sith monster on Naboo. He can handle this.”

Palpatine gave a sigh of relief.

“Well, let’s hope that whatever he finds next is cause for celebration, not panic.”

-

Obi-Wan exited hyperspace again, looking a little greener than the last time, and found himself looking at a ringed planet. He checked his Star map, and saw this system was called Geonosis. In orbit around the planet was a Trade Federation droid control ship. He groaned slightly, banging his palms on the control panel.

“Well, it’s always good to see old friends…”

He checked the scanner and saw a large amount of life forms and machinery, focused mostly in one portion of the planet. He sighed, seeing that Ventress’ tracker led there as well.

“If Tyrannus is anywhere, it has to be there.”

He set his flight path and disconnected from the Hyperspace ring, and flew into the atmosphere, thankful for fewer storms than the last planet. As he flew over the baked, stony landscape, he took note of numerous Trade Federation orb ships, the smoke of industry raising out of vents in the desert hills, as if the entire planet had been hollowed out and replaced with factories and production lines. Obi-Wan brought his star fighter down on an inconspicuous hill, making sure that the sight lines were concealed, then crept over a ridge towards the heart of industry.

Forcing open an access panel, Obi-Wan climbed into a carefully excavated tunnel system, putting on a rebreather to filter out the smoke filling the corridors. As he made his way through, opening revealed a massive factory complex, assembly lines filled with battle droids, droideikas, and a newer model he had yet to see. His heart sank as he looked at the enormity of the undertaking.

“What are the chances of finding two secret armies in as many days?”

Obi-Wan continued on, until the tunnel led to an intricately carved cavern, arches and trellises of stone lining the natural stone walls. He could hear the echoes of a conversation from within the halls, and dropped down silently to find a way to the source.

He found his way near a conference hall, and climbed up the rough stone walls towards another tunnel system, above it. As crept within, he saw a gathering of individuals, most of whom he recognized; Wat Tambor, leader of the Techno Union, Nute Gunray of the Trade Federation, and, sitting at the head of the table, older and wiser, was Count Dooku, his commanding presence drawing all eyes to him.

“Gentlemen, Ladies, please. These rumors of a Republic army are nothing but hearsay. My contacts on the Senate have confirmed that the Military Production act has been postponed by the Chancellor himself. This is good news. It means the Republic will be unprepared when we launch our strike.”

The robotic voice of War Tambor filled the hall next.

“We are putting a lot of faith in you, and your Sith benefactor. You have the backing of the Techno Union.”

The familiar sound of Nute Gunrays voice filled the hall.

“Yes, but what about our deal? Padmé Amidala still lives! You promised her corpse on my desk last week?”

“There were complications, Gunray. Jedi complications. Those complications have been dealt with. We know she retreated to Naboo, and we will get her there.”

“You better! Otherwise, there may be… production delays!”

A new voice spoke up, a woman's, cold and calculated.

“Gunray, the entire Separatist movement hinges on this army. Swallow you stupid pride and do your job. Our freedom is more important than your vendetta.”

“Well spoken, Miss Morgan. I can promise you this. When the last vestiges of the Republic pay in ruin, our new order will promise freedom and liberty to all planets under our care.”

There was a cacophonous cheer, and Obi-Wan rubbed his weary eyes, turning to head back the way he came. He made his way back through the compound, quietly and stealthily, and made his way back to her surface and his ship. He hopped in the cockpit and activated his transceiver, pinging Anakins' communicator.

-

Anakin and Padmé sat in the cockpit of the Naboo cruiser, speeding through the Tatooine atmosphere towards the Junland Wastes. Anakin had his head in his hands while Padmé checked local records on the data pad. Suddenly, a ping of the transceiver startled Anakin out of his stupor, and he transferred the call to the ships holoprojector. The ghostly image of a worn and beaten Obi-Wan flickered to life, and Anakin frowned.

“Master, you look terrible. You fight gundarks without me?”

“I wish. Where are you? That's not Naboo.”

Anakin stammered slightly, then Padmé squeezed in next to him, smiling.

“It's my fault, Master Kenobi. He got bored winning and dining in my parents' villa, and we received a distress signal from a nearby planet. I thought it would liven everything up.”

“Good. It seems your location on Naboo was compromised, and assassins were on their way. The Force smiles on us today. Anakin, when you are finished with your rescue mission, you need to rendezvous with me on Geonosis. There is trouble brewing. I’ll transmit my coordinates.”

“Of course Master. Anything I should be worried about?”

“Absolutely, but I’ll fill you in when you get here. Keep the Senator safe, and yourself. Good luck.”

“You too Master.”

The hologram flickered out, and Anakin looked at Padmé with care and weight 

“Should I be worried about him?”

Padmé smiled and grabbed his hand, kissing him on the cheek.

“He can take care of himself. I’m more worried about us. If assassins are still following me, we’ll have to be quick here.”

The ship shuddered as it slowed, the autopilot reaching its coordinates, and the two exchanged knowing glances. 

As they walked down the ships ramp and put onto the desert sand, they were greeted by a man in a hover chair and a blaster. He was missing one of his legs, and had a tan that said he spent most of his time outdoors.

“You two best have a good reason for coming here.”

Anakin raised his hands as Padmé slid behind him, R2 beeping nervously on the ramp.

“Sorry to bother you, but are you Criegg Lars?”

“You with the Hutts?”

“No, my name is Anakin Skywaker, and I’m…”

“Skywalker? You’re Shmi’s boy, aren’t you? You best come inside son.”

Anakin glanced at Padmé and took her hand as they followed Clieg into the Homestead.

“She used to talk about you all the time, son. She said you were out there doing good deeds and saving planets. That you were a Jedi. Glad to see she wasn’t lying. She really believed in you, boy.”

They made it to a encove with a dining table, where a man and woman about Anakins' age sat.

“This is my son, Owen and his Fiancee Beru. This is Anakin Skywalker.”

Owen perked up at the name, and nearly shot out of his chair.

“The podracer? The only human to ever pilot a pod and not only win but live?”

Anakin smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his head.

“That was years ago, but, yeah, I guess that's me.”

Cliegg smiled slightly, then motioned for Owen to sit down, which he did, the smile disappearing from his face. Anakin looked at them all and squeezed Padmés hand tighter.

“Where is my mother?”

“Son, please understand. When I lost my leg, I lost a lot of my fight too. Your mother took care of me, loved me, and I loved her. But…”

He looked longingly over the edge of the sunken courtyard and sighed.

“About a month ago, we were raided. Sand People. They used to be afraid to come this close, but since I lost my leg, they’ve been getting bolder. Shmi was doing maintenance on one of the Moisturizers when… they took her.”

Anakins' heart sank, and he looked down at the ground.

“Usually they just come for the water, but they took her this time. I tried to chase them, but…” 

He motioned down to his leg.

“I called the local Garrison, and they told me to give up. I took my speeder into the wastes to search for her, but couldn’t find her. Eventually, I hired a bounty hunter to track her, but he took my money and left. I had just about given up hope.”

Anakin collapsed in a chair, and Padmé choked back tears, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked a Criegg with teary eyes and nodded at him.

“Do you still have that speeder?”

Criegg nodded, his face solemn.

“There's no point, son. She’s gone.”

“Even still, I want to find her.”

The silence between them was almost deafening, then Cliegg sighed.

“I’ll have the droid prep it for you. Godspeed, son. My home is your home, for as long as you need it.”

-

Anakin stood in the machine bay, looking at all the half finished machines, vaporator parts, and deactivated droids. On a better day, this would have been a paradise for him. It had been ages since he had been allowed to tinker. Now, he just sadly adjusted a droids actuator, mentally reaching out with the Force, seeing I he could sense any trace of where his mother could be. He tried to stay focused to stay in the present, but he kept slipping into the despair, the sinking dread that he was too late, that he should have come sooner, that… maybe he shouldn't have left at all.

He heard the familiar whir and clicks of a droid coming down the walkway, and sighed. Then was surprised when he heard it speak.

“Sir, I have made all necessary preparations on the speeder. I do so hope it is up to the task.”

“Threepio?”

Anakin turned on the spot and saw his protocol droid, the one he built, standing in rusted silver casing, but working, and walking.

“Yes sir, that is my name, C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.”

Anakin jumped up from the stool he was sitting on and ran over to the droid, looking him over with awe.

“She kept you! Amazing. Not the color I would have chosen for the casing, but still!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you must be confused.”

“Threepio, it's me, Anakin.”

“By the Maker, it's the Maker! Oh, Anakin, it is so good to see you!”

Anakin smiled sadly and put a hand on the droids shoulder.

“I’m going to find her Threepio. I’ll bring her back.”

“Oh, I do hope so, Master. The homestead has been awful lonely without her. Moisture Vapororators are terrible conversation.”

“I bet, buddy. Hey, Padmé is here too, with R2. They’ll keep you company while I'm gone.”

“That rude little astromech? I would rather stick to the vaporator, sir.”

Anakin laughed and patted the droids shoulders, then made his way upstairs, into the setting suns light. Padmé was standing and looking out on the horizon, holding her arm. Anakin walked over to her and put a hand on her side, pulling her close to him.

“This place can be beautiful, Anakin. Where else can you find a sunset like this.”

“Padmé, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please be safe. I…”

He paused, stopping the words before they left his mouth, and Padmé turned and pulled him down, kissing him softly. He put a hand on her cheek put his forehead to hers, then let go, and went to the speeder, mounted up, and rocketed away, out into the dunes. Padmé wiped a tear from her cheek and watched the dust settle as he disappeared into the coming night.

-

“It’s worse than we feared. I can confirm the existence of a Separatist droid army. They plan to overtake the Republic by Force.”

Obi-Wan's hologram stood large in the Chancellor's office as Yoda, Mace Windu, and Palpatine sat in stunned silence. Palpatine rested his weary head on his hands, his eyes dark and heavy.

“You have… seen it with your own eyes, Master Kenobi?”

“Unfortunately, yes. They are staging for war, Chancellor.”

Yoda made a noise, then stood.

“Clear then is your mission. Capture Dooku, you must. Cut the head from this beast before it strikes, I fear we must.”

Master Windu stood, his head dropped solemnly.

“But avoid killing him, Obi-Wan. Dooku must be taken alive.”

Obi-Wan nodded, then the hologram cut out, and Palpatine practically collapsed at his desk.

“Master Jedis, I fear that I must take action. Despite its dubious origins, I must call the Senate to vote on using this Clone army. They have to know what we face.”

Windu nodded, while Yoda rubbed his chin.

“Infamous this day will be, Chancellor. Support you we do, but cautious we must be.”

Mace unfolded his arms and sighed.

“Until we know more about it's origin, the Clone Army must be used lightly.”

“Of course, Master Windu. I shall take no pleasure in calling this vote, but the Republic must be defended.”

-

Padmé sat in the dining niche in the homestead, nervously fidgeting. She had barely slept the night before, worried about Anakin, but she knew that he would be fine. He was a Jedi. She thought about it and frowned. He was a Jedi. She knew that what they had on this trip wouldn’t last, that as soon as they got back to Coruscant, they would go back to their lives and forget the touches and the kisses. But now that she was away from him, she never wanted that to happen.

“Hey.”

Padmé startled, and turned her head to see Beru standing there, holding a jug of blue milk and two mugs. She smiled and set them down on the table, then sat opposite Padmé.

“You look worried. I would be too. When Criegg and Owen went out that night to find the Sand People, I was worried that they wouldn’t come back, that I’d have to go back to working at the Tosche Station again.”

Padmé smiled and poured herself some milk, then sighed.

“I’m not used to worrying about people coming back. All my life, I had people around me, serving me. I never worried if I would see them again or not. Then, my planet came under attack, and everything changed. I was vulnerable. I was afraid. But my people needed me to be strong, so I was.”

Beru poured her own cup and listened, her eyes not leaving Padmé,making her feel heard.

“After all that, I knew I had an obligation to help people. I became a Senator. I never thought about…”

“You never thought about falling in love.”

Padmé shook her head and blushed, sipping the milk. Beru smiled and looked up over the ridge of the pit.

“I met Owen when he came in looking for power converters for his T-16. He and his buddies would fly down Beggers Canyon, blasting Womp Rats and daring each other to thread the needle. When I met him, I thought he was the most dashing and handsome man on Tatooine. And you know what?”

Padmé shook her head, smiling.

“He is. He asked me to marry him about two months ago, and I couldn’t be happier. But even I worry. I can’t have children. I wonder what will happen later in life, when our looks have gone, and we don’t have a child to look after. I fear the love will leave.”

Padmé reached across the table and took Beru’s hand, and she smiled.

“I think Owen would be an idiot if he ever stopped loving you.”

Beru grinned widely and squeezed her hand back.

“You’re damn right.”

They turned their heads to the sound of Owen scrambling down the stairs, smiling.

“Anakins' back!”

Padmé and Beru looked at each other and smiled, then shot up and ran up the stairs with Owen. As they crested the pit they saw the distant dust of a speeder coming ever closer. Owen pulled out some macrobinoculars and looked through them, training them on the speeder.

“It's him alright. And there's someone lying across the back. It must be Shmi! He found her!”

Padmé squeezed Beru's hand and smiled, excited to see Anakin smile again. Then, before she knew it, the speeder came to a stop, and Anakin dismounted, and her smile disappeared. His clothes were dusty and bloody and his hands were still bleeding. His eyes were sunken and filled with tears, and he walked over to the back of the speeder and lifted the limp, covered body from it. Padmé walked over to meet him, then stopped when she looked at his face. Anakin took the body and walked over to the desert sand and set it down, then turned around and disappeared into the machine bay. Beru couldn’t help but cry, and she gripped Owen’s arm tight. Padmé hesitated slightly, then made to follow Anakin.

As she descended the stairs, all she could hear was him sobbing, and the clanking of thrown tools at the wall. She walked in and saw him slumped down on the floor, sobbing into his arm.

“Annie?”

He didn't answer, just sobbed, and Padmé took a tentative step towards him, tears in her eyes.

“It's ok, Anakin. I’m here.”

“I… I didn’t get there in time. When I got… to the camp, and snuck into the tent… she was… already…”

He sobbed harder, wiping a bloody hand through his hair. Padmé had a fleeting moment, wondering whose blood it was, then pushed it back down.

“They had… tortured her… and… violated…”

Padmé gasped and took a step closer, bending down and putting a hand on his shoulder, which heaves with each sob.

“Padmé… I killed them.”

Padmé didn’t say anything, but squeezed her hand tighter.

“I didn’t even think… I just drew my saber and… killed them. Men. Women ... children…”

He heaves again, the sobs coming heavy. Padmé let her tears flow freely too, not taking her hand away.

“What kind of Jedi am I? I slaughtered them like animals! I only stopped when… I ripped off one of their coverings, and looked into their eyes… they were afraid. They were people, Padmé. They didn't even try to fight back. So I ran. I grabbed… her… and I ran.”

Padmé didn’t say anything. She just pulled him in, and he collapsed into her arms, and they sat there, and they cried together.

-

They buried Shmi on the edge of the farm, marking her grave with a rock Anakin carved with his saber. Nobody said anything when they finished burying her. Cliegg tried his best not to cry, Owen and Beru failed, but Anakin just stared, all his tears gone. He held Padmés hand as, one by one, they stepped away from the grave, and back into the farm. They are, they told stories of her life, they tried laughing, but they knew that there was nothing to laugh about. Anakin talked about his training, how different Jedi life was to what he expected, but the words were hollow, and they all knew why.

But they listened anyway, and they asked questions, and made him feel heard. By the end, Anakin and Owen had broken into the Hutt Ale, and they sang old songs badly and out of tune, arm in arm. When they went to bed that night, their sadness was mixed with a feeling of camaraderie, of family, something Anakin hadn’t felt in a long time. He kissed Padmé goodnight, and she followed him to his bed anyway, and they held each other and pretended to sleep.

When they awoke in the morning, they gathered for breakfast, and between yawns and smiles, they talked about life. Padmé told them about Naboo, and Owen talked about the struggles of moisture farming. Cliegg told stories of his run-ins with Hutt Enforcers when he was a young man, and Anakin talked about space pirates and rescue missions, piloting and adventure.

When the suns had risen part way into the sky, the family gathered at the foot of the Naboo Star Cruisers ramp. Owen had taken a tour of the luxury cruiser and whistled, impressed, when he walked back out. Beru just hugged Padmé and invited her to the wedding, and Padmé said she would be there. Anakin shook Crieggs’ hand and thanked him. Criegg looked at him and smiled.

“No, thank you son. You brought Shmi back to us. Now, she’ll always be here.”

Anakin looked over towards his mother's grave and smiled softly.

“She would like that. She always talked about having a place to stay. I’m happy she found one.”

Beru walked over and gave Anakin a hug, and he hugged her back.

“Don’t be a stranger, Anakin. You better be at my wedding.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Beru.”

Owen walked over and shook Anakins' hand, then pulled him in for a hug.

“Good luck out there, Brother.”

“You too, Owen.”

C-3PO waddled over and gave a salute to Anakin, and Anakin smiled.

“Oh, Anakin, sir, I do wish I could come with you. There isn’t much use for a protocol droid on a moisture farm.”

Anakin looked over at Criegg, who nodded, and Owen smiled.

“Take him with you, he’s yours. How hard can it be to find a droid who speaks the language of moisture vaporators?”

Anakin smiled and thanked them all again, and then they all boarded the ship. As they took off, Anakin burned inside with a flame he thought he wouldn’t feel again. He held Padmés hand as they sat in the control room.

“R2, set a course for Geonosis. Let's go get Obi-Wan out of whatever mess he’s in.”

-

Obi-Wan was tired of crawling through tunnels, but he was getting close to the tracker, closer to Ventress, and hopefully, closer to Tyrannus. As he came to another opening in the tunnel, he looked down into what looked like an armory, and saw one of Ventress Lightsabers sitting on a table. He dropped down quietly and went in to examine it, noticing the tracker sitting right next to it. He sighed through his rebreather.

“Damn.” 

Suddenly the walls seemed to shift, and droidekas unfurled from their hiding spots. Obi-Wan ignited his saber, but knew it was worthless. The door opened, and Ventress strode in, smiling wide when she saw Obi-Wan.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so glad I get a chance to kill you again.”

“Ventress. I was wondering when you would make an appearance.”

“What, missed me already?”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if I hadn’t missed you.”

“You do care. Drop the saber, love, and we can talk.”

“I am more of a man of action.”

“It's only our third date, dear. Let's wait a little more.”

Obi-Wan sighed and turned off his saber, putting it on the table next to hers. She smiled and walked over, taking the rebreather out of his mouth. She quickly put him in manacles and led him out of the room, and hopefully, Obi-Wan thought, closer to Tyrannus.

She led him down corridor after corridor, taking her sweet time.

“I never got your name, you know. It's rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“It's ruder to give intelligence to the enemy.”

“Enemy? Please, dear, I prefer adversary. It's so much more personal.”

“I prefer lost soul. You had a place in our order Ventress. What happened?”

“Same thing that I hope happens to you; I found out they were lying to me.”

She opened a door and led him to a holding field. He smiled, trying hard to think of a way out of it.

“Kenobi. Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Kenobi. Hopefully we get to have some more fun in the future.”

The field activated, and Obi-Wan's arms were pulled up by the field, and he floated there, suspended. Ventress ran a hand across his chest and licked her lips, and then a voice sounded from around them.

“Ventress. Enough!”

She backed off, and from out of the shadows stepped Count Dooku.

“Obi-Wan. What a surprise. I never expected to see you here.”

“Dooku. Well, I have a habit of showing up where I'm not wanted.”

Dooku turned to Ventress and motioned for her to leave. She nodded, waving her fingers at Obi-Wan as she left.

“Interesting company you’re keeping.”

“She is nothing but a tool. Just as you are.”

“I am nothing like her.”

“Are you not? You go where the council tells you, do what the council tells you, die when the council asks you to? If you think the Jedi treasure you, you are mistaken.”

Obi-Wan looked over Dooku up close. He was older than Obi-Wan remembered, but still exudes the same aura of confidence and charisma. 

“I chose to be here, Dooku, to prevent a war. One that you are being coerced into starting.”

“Oh really? Is that what Jango Fett told you? Or what you believe?”

Obi-Wan paused, putting it all together in his head.

“You. You’re Tyrannus?”

“Indeed. The Sith gave me a name that allows me to work incognito, when I need to.”

“Then you created the clone army. You are funding this droid army. Why? Why manufacture a war?”

“Because a war is the only thing that will make the galaxy change. For hundreds of years, the Republic has stagnated, has rotted from within while bureaucracy and capitalism festered in the wound. I need the galaxy to see how wrong they are to keep that corpse alive. I need to show them a freedom worth fighting for.”

Obi-Wan grasped for words, but his brain was tired and beaten.

“There is no way you did this alone. Your first apprentice on Naboo was just a first attempt.”

“My apprentice? You are mistaken my friend. I am the apprentice. My master is the true mastermind of this war, it's true benefactor. I am Mauls replacement.”

Obi-Wan struggled to make sense of it in his mind, struggled with the enormity of the reveal. Dooku just laughed.

“Did you truly think I was the end all-be all? Please. Let me tell you something, Kenobi. The entire Republic is in the palm of my master, and it is far too late to stop him.”

“Impossible. We would know.”

“You Jedi, in your ivory tower, are as blind as the rest of the Galaxy. You sit near the heart of rot, yet still pretend it beats true. You are nothing but tools, and you will be used to dismantle the Republic, piece by piece.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Why, Master Kenobi? Because by this time tomorrow, you will be dead, and the war will have started. It is too late to stop it. Your Chancellor is already before the Senate, begging for the power to use the army I gave him. Your Council is already mustering for war. Your apprentice is falling right into place. Soon, he and the senator will be here, and they will share your fate.”

“You won’t win.”

“This is beyond winning, Kenobi. I don’t need to win. I just need the galaxy to see the corpse it has been propping up for what it is. Then, they can truly be free.”

Dooku turned and the door opened, not even giving Obi-Wan a second glance as the door closed behind him. Obi-Wan just hanged there, head dropped, wallowing in his failure.

-

Anakin and Padmé came in for landing on the outskirts of the industrial complex, their shining chrome starship failing at stealth. Anakin looked worriedly at the Federation ships in the sky, and looked at Padmé.

“Obi-Wan wasn’t kidding. This is worse than gundarks.”

Padmé smiled, the worry showing on her face.

“R2, send a message to the Senate, tell them that there seems to be an army staging here on Geonosis.”

R2 beeped affirmatively, then plugged into the holonet, then beeped back frantically. Threepio turned his head, then spoke for him.

“Oh, R2 says the Senate is in an upgrade already. They are currently voting on whether to approve emergency powers to the Chancellor, and to approve the use of military force.”

“No! The vote! I’m missing it!”

“Padmé, I think we are beyond the voting stage. This is the staging ground for a war.”

Padmé pouted slightly, then grabbed a blaster from under the console.

“Well, like you said, let's go do some aggressive negotiations then. Obi-Wan needs us.”

Anakin smiled widely and pulled her in for a kiss, and then they went to lower the ramps.

“R2, Threepio, stay here with the ship. We need you to hold down the fort so we can have a quick escape.”

R2 beeped excitedly, and Threepio made a worried noise.

“Yes, Master Anakin. Please, do be safe.”

They extended the ramp and quickly made their way to a nearby rock formation. Anakin pulled his saber from his belt, hesitantly looking at the specks of blood still clinging to it.

“This place will be swarming soon, there's no way they didn’t clock us on their sensors.”

“Then let's make sure they leave the ship alone and focus on us.”

“Remember, the last thing the enemy expects is for us to give up, so when we surrender, they’ll take us right to Obi-Wan, then we can escape.”

“Makes sense to me. Let's make it look good though, take out three or four droids before giving up?”

“I was thinking 5 or 6.”

They heard a buzzing noise from above, and noticed two flying, insectoid humanoids pointing at their ship and hovering lower. Padmé gave a nod and stepped out from cover.

“Hey! Over here!”

She took a pot shot that was meant to miss and dove back behind the rock. The flying creature chattered excitedly and garbled into a communicator. Anakin smiled widely, things going exactly as planned so far. They waited until they hears the hum of Vulture droids flying overhead and landing, shifting into their quadrupedal form. 

Anakin gave Padmé a knowing smile, then jumped out, lightsaber ready, and carved off one of its leg-wings, making it crash to the ground. The other Vulture droids immediately tried to take off, but Anakin used the Force to pull it back to the ground, leaping onto it to deliver a killing blow. The first droid tried to scramble up, but Anakin was already on it, finishing the job.

“Anakin! Destroyers!”

Anakin turned just in time to see the rolling droidekas taking up strategic firing positions, their personal fields switching on. Anakin smiled and deactivated his saber, raising his arms to the sky. Padmé followed suit as a droid carrier arrived. From out of the hanger came a bald Zabrak woman, smiling to herself.

“Another Jedi? Giving up already? You’re less fun than Kenobi.”

“You are literally the first person to ever say that.”

Ventress gave orders to the droids around her, and they manacled both Padmé and Anakin. Ventress looked at the pair of them, smugly sitting there, and smiled.

“So, you thought that you could just show up and save the day?”

Padmé smiled and leaned back.

“That's what we do.”

“I’m going to enjoy watching you two die.”

The transport quickly flew them towards the industrial complex, and Anakin's smile slowly faded as he got a good look at the full scope of the operation. Padmé turned to him in horror and frowned.

“This is large enough to create ten armies..

“

Anakin frowned back, realizing the enormity of what they faced.

“Yeah, this is so much worse. I’m kinda for the creation of a military now.”

“Never thought I'd agree.”

-

Anakin and Padmé were searched for hidden weapons, thrown onto a makeshift chariot, and rolled into a holding cell, confused and terrified. Anakin reached with his manacles and took Padmés hand.

“Right, I’ve seen this before. They are going to roll us out into an arena, make a big speech about how we are going to die and then…”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, we usually wing it.”

Padmé smiled sadly, then looked at the large metal doors on the far side of the chamber.

“Do you have a better plan than that?”

“Honestly? I was kinda hoping they would take us to Obi-Wan and we could figure it out together.”

Padmé huffed slightly, then squeezed his hand tighter.

“You are such an adorable idiot sometimes.”

“You think I'm adorable?”

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

She let go of his hand and tried adjusting her grip, then groaned.

“Annie, can you reach my belt?”

“Probably, but this is hardly the time.”

“No, not that. I have an emergency lockpick under my belt, if you can reach it, we might have a chance.”

“Smart. You can unlock mine, and then I can get you, and we fight our way out?”

“Almost. I’ll do me first though.”

Anakin nodded and fumbled with his manacles until he found her belt buckle. She grabbed the sides of her belt and he unlatched it. She adjusted it until she found what she was looking for, then dropped the belt, palming the lockpick. Anakin waited expectantly, then looked at her.

“Well?”

“And let them miss out on their triumphant speech? No, it’ll be more fun to escape from the arena itself “

Anakin smiled and looked into her eyes.

“I love you.”

He said it, then caught himself, and his heart skipped a beat. Padmé smiled and blushed, then kissed him.

“I know.”

There was a enormous grinding noise, and Padmé kicked her belt off the chariot as the giant metal doors opened, and the roar of a crowd entered through the daylit doorway. The chariot began to move into a sandy arena, three pillars at the dead center, Obi-Wan chained to one of them already. He looked over and saw Anakin and Padmé and sighed, rolling his eyes. As they got closer, two of the insectoid humanoids flew down and led Padmé and Anakin to the pillars, attaching their manacles to chains on them. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan and shrugged.

“Did you do the whole ‘get-captured-on-purpose-to-learn-the-enemies-plot’ thing too?”

“Yes, and I learned more than I wanted to. Anakin, I thought you were going to keep the Senator safe, why is she here?”

Padmé looked over and smiled, already working on her lock.

“Oh, this whole rescue was my idea, I wasn’t going to miss it.”

Anakin grinned and looked back to Obi-Wan.

“See? Just doing what she says.”

“Wonderful. How did your other rescue mission go?”

Anakin frowned and looked down slightly.

“Not well.”

Obi-Wan looked at him and sighed.

“I’m sorry Anakin. Anything you want to talk about?”

Padmé looked over and grinned, the struggle of picking the lock obvious on her face.

“We got invited to his brother-in-law's wedding.”

Anakin looked at her in shock, then over to Obi-Wan with a sheepish smile. He just glowered and sighed.

“We will have to talk about that one after all of this. Well, while you were having a family reunion, I was shot at, exploded, kicked off a roof, saluted one too many times, and I think accidentally orphaned a cloned little boy. Also discovered two secret armies, got interrogated, and have been flirting with a mass murderer.”

Anakin whistled, then smiled.

“So, a normal mission then?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The crowd's roars grew in volume as a couple of figures appeared on a raised balcony. The front figure, an old insectoid, raised a hand and a staff, causing the crowd to fall silent. He began to chirp and trill in their language, and Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.

“Who’s the bearded guy next to the bug?”

“Count Dooku.”

“Your master's master?”

“Yes, and also Darth Tyranus, Lord of the Sith.”

“Oh. That's bad. And the scary bald girl?”

“Asajj Ventress. Former Padawan, current problem.”

“She likes you. She the mass murderer?”

“Yes.”

The bug king stopped speaking, and the cheers began again, this time accompanied by more doors in the arena opening up. Out of one door came a cat-like Nexu, vicious and feral. It kept on one of its insect handlers and ripped him to shreds before noticing the trio chained to the pillars and began stalking them. Out of another came a roar, and a vicious kell dragon waddled out, spurred on by Geonosians with electrified spears. Out of a third door came a familiar screech, and a gundark leaped out, screaming loudly. Obi-Wan and Anakin groaned loudly upon seeing it, giving each other knowing looks.

“It just had to be a gundark…”

Anakin chuckled slightly, then turned to Obi-Wan.

“I killed the last one, this one is all yours. Padmé?”

“I’ll take the overgrown lolth-cat. Cats like me.”

“Great. That leaves the Kell Dragon.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“Don’t worry, Anakin. I once saw someone fist-fight a Kell Dragon.”

“Oh yeah, how’d that go?”

“He died terribly, but you’ll do fine.”

The beasts began to advance, the Kell dragon skittering hulkishly towards the pillars, Anakin reaching out with the Force to nudge it in his direction. Obi-Wan did what he always told Anakin not to do and made eye contact with the gundark, instantly goading it into attacking him. Padmé finally got the manacled unlocked and used the chain to climb the pillar, whistling to the Nexu like it was a house cat.

Anakin jumped out of the way as the Kell dragon collided with the pillar, and landed on top of it, and it started flailing to and fro, trying to reach the Jedi nestled on its back. Anakin swung the chain around its throat, hoping the beast was strong enough to either break it or the loop it was attached to the pillar by.

Padmé had made it to the top of the pillars and the Nexu eyed her like a shiny play thing. She began spinning the chain like a flail, waiting for the cat to make a move.

Obi-Wan groaned as the gundark charged him, hoping it would just try and hit him, but instead, it tackled the whole pillar, breaking it at the bottom and toppling it, leaving Obi-Wan still chained. He gave an exasperated groan and tried wrapping his chain around one of its fists, but it just batted it away and tried to slam him into the ground. He quickly dodged and used the Force to pull one of the insectoid handlers closer, who screamed slightly as the gundark slapped it into the ground. Obi-Wan took that opportunity to grab the electrified spear it was carrying, hoping to keep the monster at bay.

Above the chaos, on the balcony, Dooku watched with a kind of stoic glowering, while Ventress gripped the edge of the railing and grinned wildly. Nute Gunray gripped the collar of his robe and glared at Padmé swinging her chan at the Nexu.

“Is she allowed to do that? Somebody shoot her!”

Valerie Morgan, the tech matron of Blastech, sucked on a death stick and grinned, while Wat Tambor adjusted droid controls on his wrist mounted data pad. Archduke Poggle the Lesser, the Geonosians leader, leaned on his Sceptor and watched intently. He wanted to impress these Separatist creditors with his menagerie, hoping they would continue to fund his empire.

Behind them all, a cloaked figure crept down the hall that led to the balcony, his sure hand gripping a lightsaber. In a swift motion, he drew and ignited his saber, holding it to Dookus throat. Dooku smugly smiled as the technocrats beside him recoiled.

“Ah, Master Windu. I was wondering when you would arrive.”

Mace threw back his hood and glared at Dooku, keeping one eye on Ventress as she gripped the two sabers on her belt.

“This party’s over.”

As if on cue, lightsabers began to ignite throughout the arena as cloaked Jedi revealed themselves throughout. Dooku smiled wider, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the purple light of Windu's saber.

“On the contrary, old friend. This party is only beginning.”

Tambor had already pushed buttons on his wristpad, and a clanking march of metal feet began echoing down the hallway as massive bipedal droids appeared, their wrist mounted blasters already aimed at Mace Windu, who withdrew his saber just in time to block the first volley of blaster bolts, the Separatist goons taking cover behind the doorway. Throughout the arena, Geonosians began taking flight as battle droids and droidekas began flooding in, the stands erupting in blaster fire. Mace leapt from the balcony and landed with a flourish in the stands below, joining Master Eth Koth in defense.

Below in the arena, Anakin had leveraged the Kell Dragon into breaking his chains loose of the pillar, and was now fighting to keep mounted, barely registering the firestorm in the stands above. Obi-Wan had noticed, but was proding the gundark with his spear just enough to aggravate it further. Padmé’s defensive position on the pillar suddenly became more precarious as battle droids in the stands took notice of her safety and began drawing beads. She swallowed hard, looked at the creeping Nexu below, and gambled, jumping and swinging on her chain, hoping to catch the Nexu off guard and between her and the battle droids. She landed just as the Nexu made to pounce, and was rattled with blaster fire, making it screech in pain and rage. It turned, fur singed and angry, then ran full speed at the arena wall and leapt into the stands. Padmé sighed with relief, then looked between Anakin and Obi-Wan, deciding to take her chances with the arena wall instead.

Anakin, seeing Padmé free, decided to take his chances and jumped off the Dragons back, pushing it into the ground with a blast of For e energy while he did. It crumpled to its belly, roaring,while Anakin landed, calming himself and reaching out to the creature's mind, hoping to calm it. As he did, blaster fire began to pepper the ground around him, some bolts bounced by of the Kell dragons hide, but Anakin stayed focused, trying to meet the monsters mind with his own.

Obi-Wan dodged another brutal slam and drove the spear into the gundarks hand, sticking it to the ground. The gundark screamed out and clawed at the spear as Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could towards the arena walls. He didn’t have much time before the gundark was free, and he knew how angry it was. As he ran, he dodged out of the way as somebody fell from the stands, landing on their feet next to him.

“Master Fisto! I suggest you run!”

Kit Fisto grinned widely and handed Obi-Wan a spare lightsaber.

“Do not worry friend. Together, we can take this beast!”

Padmé was already scaling the wall, and when she made it over the stands, she grabbed a rifle from a fallen droid and ducked behind a stone bench for cover. She peeked over to see Anakin stepping closer to the confused dragon, and Obi-Wan and a green leku-ed Jedi charging at the gundark, sabers drawn, and she shrugged and turned her attention to the balcony, where she saw Dooku urging Ventress to come with him, and Nute Gunray yelling and pointing at her. She smiled and took a shot, missing him by a mile, but making him jump and run away.

Anakin breathed calmly and placed a hand on the dragons about, and it snorted loudly. He smiled, and quickly mounted up, his will and the Kell dragon’s one. He directed it to charge the gundark from behind, taking a quick glance to make sure Padmé was ok. Kit Fisto reached the gundark first and laughed as he swiped at its massive arm. The gundark yelled out and swung, but Obi-Wan force pushed it while it was off balance, staggering it as the dragon slammed into its legs from behind, sending it to the ground. Fisto finished the job with a saber stab to its head, and he smiled widely.

“Now that is teamwork, my friends!”

Anakin smiled and turned the beast, letting Obi-Wan and Fisto jump on. Obi-Wan sighed loudly, looking at the waves of droids begining to over power the Jedi in the stands.

“Kit, I hope we have an exit strategy.”

“Kenobi, this is only the begining. Have faith, friend. Skywalker, let us ride into glory!”

“If you say so, Master. I’ll make do with riding to safety.”

Anakin urged the beast towards the section of seating where Padmé was taking decisive shots at oncoming droids, stopping just short of ramking into the wall. The three Jedi jumped into the stands, Fisto and Obi-Wan igniting their sabers to run defense while Anakin joined Padmé.

“Having fun yet?”

“Oh, this is a blast. Where are we going after this?”

Obi-Wan turned and smiled.

“After Dooku. If we can capture him, we may be able to end this war before it begins.”

Kit Fisto smiled and motioned to a group of Jedi forming a defensive line, drawing most of the droid fire.

“Easier said than done, but what is a challenge to a Jedi? If we can regroup, this next part will go smoother.”

Obi-Wan blocked an incoming bolt and grimaced.

“You keep mentioning part two, I hope it is more impressive than most of the Jedi Temple showing up.”

Fisto smiled and pointed up, and they looked in time to see a shiny new gunship descend into the arena, opening fire on the droids with abandon. Another 3 ships made their way down and opened their side panels, letting the white armored troopers out to begin returning fire. A ship hovered close to them and opened up, a clone trooper with yellow accented armor waving them in.

“General! Hurry!”

Kenobi looked at him and groaned, motioning for Anakin and Padmé to go first.

“Cody? Is that you?”

“The one and only General! Good to see you again.”

Anakin grabbed Padmé and helped lift her into the transport, turning to Obi-Wan with a wry smile.

“You know these guys?”

“It's a long story, but yes, we met briefly. Cody! We need to go after Count Dooku, can you get us up to that balcony?”

Cody nodded and gave the order, and the ship rose up over the stands and hovered by the balcony, and Obi-Wan and Anakin leapt out. Padmé went to leap too, but Anakin shook his head.

“Padmé, this is too dangerous. Dooku was a Jedi Master. Stay with… these soldiers, and Master Fisto.”

Padmé looked at the white armored troopers, and Kit Fisto, who smiled like he was having the most fun of his life, then turned back to Anakin.

“Ok. Be safe, and come back to me.”

Anakin nodded, then turned to Obi-Wan, who just looked at him solemnly. They started going, leaving the din of battle behind.

“So, Anakin. Do I want to know what happened while you were on your little trip?”

“Can we talk about this later, Master?”

“Oh, by all means. I just want to know how disappointed in you to be.”

Anakin smiled wryly as they made their way into a control room, the computers and data ports already blasted. Obi-Wan looked around quietly.

“Whatever they were hiding in here, they made sure we’ll never find out.”

“Does it matter? You said all we have to do is capture Dooku. Let's get him.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and they continued down a hall until they reached a wide antechamber, arches columns surrounding a mezzanine. In the center stood Asajj Ventress, smiling and waiting.

“Oh, sweetie, you brought your friend. You know what they say though, three's a crowd.”

Obi-Wan drew his saber and gave an exhausted smile.

“Oh, you know I like to keep things interesting.”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, then to Ventress, then pulled his saber as well.

“And you want to know what I was doing, Master?”

Ventress grinned maniacally and drew her two curved sabers, activating them and filling the hall with a deep red glow. Anakin and Obi-Wan ignited their sabers as well, and began to walk towards her.

“There's no way you can win, Ventress. Give up and let us end this before it starts.”

“Oh please, Obi-Wan. I can handle two guys at once.”

Anakin twirled his saber and stretched slightly, his eyes darting between Ventress and the shadows cast on the raised hall. Something didn’t feel right. He didn’t have time to think about it, as Ventress leapt forward, sabers swinging. He and Obi-Wan both blocked, pushing her back and counter attacking, but she backflipped and threw one of her sabers towards Anakin. He rolled out of the way, blocking it as it boomeranged back towards him and into her hand as she kicked off a pillar at Obi-Wan. He stood his ground and blocked both sabers, crouching down and attempting to sweep her legs, but she jumped and brought her sabers down on his, trying to push him into the ground. Anakin came from behind and swung, but she quickly pivoted, one saber on each of theirs.

“I changed my mind: this is fun. Obi-Wan, you should bring your friend more often.”

“Believe me, Ventress, when I say I hope this is the last time we do this.”

“I don’t know, Master, I haven't had this kind of workout since Master Windu did lightsaber drills with me.”

“You’re not helping.”

Ventress did a quick spin and ducked, and Obi-Wan and Anakin rolled away in unison, looking each other in the eyes and nodding. Ventress stood and prepared, and Obi-Wan charged forth, going high, and Anakin went low. Ventress prepared her defense, but before they swung, they switched stances, and Ventress scrambled to adapt, both her sabers flying out of her hands. Obi-Wan and Anakin held her a saber point and smiled.

“It's over Ventress.”

Asajj smiled and looked over Obi-Wan's shoulder, just as a streak of blue lightning struck Anakin, sending him flailing. Obi-Wan turned quickly enough to block the next barrage with his saber, finding himself face to face with Dooku, his curved saber drawn and ignited, his fingertips smoking with Dark side energy.

“You wanted me, Kenobi. Here I am. But know this; I am well beyond your power. If you fight me, you will die.”

Obi-Wan smiled wryly and went into a relaxed stance. Ventress was quick to get up and draw her sabers back to her, but Dooku shook his head.

“You have done enough, my weapon. Go and prepare the ship. I will be there momentarily.”

Ventress nodded, hesitantly, then blew Kenobi a kiss, rushing out of the hall. 

Anakin regained his footing, his clothes smoking, and he reignited his saber and joined his master.

“It's two against one, Count.”

“Two novices do not equal a master, boy.”

Obi-Wan glanced at his apprentice and his face stiffened.

“We go together.”

“Of course.”

They charged together, and Dooku flourished his saber, easily dodged Anakins' stab, and effortlessly brushed Obi-Wans strike off with a riposte. Anakin recovered and swung again, and Dooku blocked, letting Obi-Wan take a quick swing, which he ducked. They both swung at the same time, and Dooku blocked both, unleashing lightning into Obi-Wan, and quickly swirling his blade, disarming Anakin effortlessly. In a quick motion, he brought his saber through Anakins' arm, and it fell to the ground limp. Anakin screamed, clutching the sizzling stump, falling to the ground. Dooku smiled, then turned to Obi-Wan.

“You have been lax in your teaching, Kenobi. I expertly disarmed your apprentice with little effort. Now, there is only you.”

Obi-Wan looked at his grimacing and screaming apprentice and frowned, rising to his feet, unsteady.

“The difference between us, Dooku, is that we will fight to the end.”

“You fight to die, then. How sad. Goodbye, Obi-Wan.”

Dooku lunged forward, but his saber tip stopped just short of Kenobi's chest, and Dooku turned, surprised, to see Mace Windu, his hand out, the Force emanating from him, holding the blade in place. Dooku turned, and Windu released his hold as Obi-Wan rushed to Anakins' side, attempting to heal his wound with the force.

“Master Windu. I always wondered who would win if we came to blows.”

“I never fantasized about fighting my friends.”

Dooku's smile faded, and he assumed his stance, while Master Windu casually walked forward, lightsaber off. Dooku extended his blade and took a step forward, and Mace kept walking, his eyes fixed on Dooku. Finally, Dooku swung, and Mace’s purple lightsaber ignited, blocking and sending Dooku's blade bouncing off his. Dooku flourished his blade and swung again, and Windu effortlessly blocked it. Then, it was his turn, andace brought a powerful swing down on Dooku, and he blocked and recoiled, his composure breaking. He grimaced and unleashed a volley of lightning, and Mace just extended his hand and caught it, redirecting it to the ceiling.

“You forget, Dooku. I am a master of Vaapad. I studied both Light and Dark side techniques. I have never lost a duel. I don’t intend to now.”

Dooku glared, then shifted his attention to Obi-Wan and Anakin, throwing a fist of force at the ceiling above them, bringing it crashing down. Mace turned and caught the debris with the force, and Dooku bolted through the hall and out of the mezzanine. Mace shifted the rubble to the side and gave chase, reaching the hanger just in time to see Dooku's ship blast out into the Geonosis sky, the sound of blasters and cannons echoing throughout the plains of Geonosis. The war was here, and there was no stopping it.

-

Anakin sat in the med-bay of the Endurance, the new flagship of the Republic navy, a medical droid doing final touch-ups on his prosthetic arm. Obi-Wan sat at his side, his eyes weary.

“I’m sorry Anakin.”

Anakin looked at his master and gave a small smile.

“It's not your fault, Master.”

“But it is. I could have told you to retreat. I should have known he was too much for either of us. I thought…”

“I know. Us, together? Usually, we can do anything.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and Anakin winced as the droid applied an electric shock to his metallic fingertips.

“Ow! And here I was hoping I would finally be able to grab Master Fistos cooking right out of the fire.”

Obi-Wan smiled, but his eyes were focused on the arm, a testament to his failure as a teacher.

“Master?”

Obi-Wan shifted his gaze to his apprentices face, which held no smile, but instead guilt.

“It's I who failed you. While on Naboo, I…”

“No, Anakin. This time, I don’t want to know. What happened, happened. All I know is, you have been focused, and happy, and it is good to see. If whatever is going on is helping you, then continue. What I, and the council, don’t know won’t kill us.”

“Master?”

“It's like the Jedi Code says; we should not fear change.”

Anakin smiled, and reached over and put a hand on Obi-Wans hand, and he smiled as well.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

“Thank you, Anakin. Now, get better. I heard you have a wedding to go to.”

-

Palpatine stood in the middle of the Galactic Senate, his hover podium surrounded by media droids. His face, somber, tired, wrinkled, spoke of a man who was weary.

“It is with great sadness and solemnity that I accept these emergency powers. My first act is to officially declare War on the Separatist Systems. May the Republic forgive me for this when it is all over. I promise that, together, we will defend the liberty that we have so hard fought for, and we will treasure the freedom that our new soldiers will die for.”

The Senate floor erupted in cheers, but Padmé sat in her Senatorial hoverpodium and sighed, frowning. Without the army, she wouldn’t be here to listen to this speech, but part of her worried about what it meant for the Republic. The coming days would be filled with legislating, voting, subcommittees, and war planning, but that evening, she would leave this planet, this Republic, and go to a small Moisture Farm in the middle of nowhere and watch two people she met the week before bind themselves in love. That's what this was all for.

When the Senate adjourned, she exited the booth and exchanged pleasantries with Senator Organa and Senator Mothma,ade plans to form a committee, then left, unafraid of travelling back to her apartment. A week ago, she was watching each rooftop for a sniper rifle. Today, she knew the real threat was Not on Coruscant, but on the systems where droid met clone.

She took the long elevator ride up to her apartment, and was greeted by C-3PO, fresh silver planting newly installed. She always needed a protocol droid, and it was a nice present from the man who sat in the living room, flexing his robotic hand curiously. He looked up, smiled, and stood. Padmé smiled back, and put a hand on her hip.

“Master Skywalker, for what do I owe the pleasure?”

Anakin came over to her with a wry smile and reached out with his metal hand, which she took.

“Senator. I heard rumors there was a strange man in your apartment. I came to investigate.”

Padmé came in closer and put a hand on his chest.

“Oh, thanks for coming. Yes, there was man who saved my life and jumped out a window, I was hoping to see him again.”

Anakin put his other hand on her back and pulled her , practically whispering in her ear.

“If I see him, I’ll let him know. But we have to get ready. My Brother-in-law is getting married, and I need a plus 1 for the ceremony.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Master Jedi?”

“More like a diplomatic mission to Tatooine. To strengthen relations between the Jedi Order and the Senate.”

Padmé kissed him deeply, and he kissed her back, then she pulled away.

“I am always available for aggressive negotiations, Master Skywalker.”