Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“A Chosen One shall come, born of no father, and through him will ultimate balance in the Force be restored.”

***

“I – I want to marry you so much , you have no idea. I love you with the force of a thousand suns. I would do anything, anything at all, if you only asked me, Padme. I would leave the Order to live with you. I want a family. I want to be with you.” He reaches out, clasping her hands in his own, staring into her eyes and trying not to feel too self-conscious about his prosthetic. To her credit, Padme doesn’t react at all to the cool metal fingers in her own.

“I sense a but,” she prompts, lips quirking into a smile.

Anakin wants to lean in and kiss her. He wants to stop talking, to give in to this… paradise, this dream. He can’t. He can’t do that. He wants to more than he wants to breathe, but… this is – this is best. “I don’t want to live a lie,” he admits, squeezing her hands. “I don’t – you were right; we would be living a lie, and I – I don’t want to have to hide how much I love you. I want to be free to love you, to live with you. I would not hesitate to leave the Order, but there is war. There is war. The galaxy needs me.” Obi-Wan needs me, he doesn’t add. For all that he loves Padme, for all that he wants to be with her, to have a family with her, he doesn’t know if he truly has the strength to permanently walk away from Obi-Wan, even if he should, even if it would be easier.

Obi-Wan is – he is his master, his father in every way that matters. Obi-Wan has given him everything, and even though Anakin is tired of the criticism, the scrutiny, the lack of praise and encouragement, Obi-Wan is still important to him. How – how ungrateful could he possibly be to throw it all back in Obi-Wan’s face, leaving the Order even before his Knighthood?

“The galaxy needs both of us,” Padme agrees, nodding. She almost looks disappointed for a moment, but then it’s gone, eyes clear and bright, shining with warmth and affection and pride. “It will be hard to stay apart from you, Ani, but… you are right. It will be for the best for both of us. I would not want to distract you from your duties to the Jedi and the galaxy. We can wait. I will wait for you until this is all over.”

“And we will… be friends?” Anakin asks, a little breathlessly, trying to keep himself from getting distracted by her. It would be so easy … No, he tells himself harshly. He has made a decision, and he will not be weak enough to let desire distract him.

“If we can be,” she smiles impishly, “Without getting… distracted.”

Anakin snorts, quietly. She has a point, and he steps back from her before the temptation to kiss her overcomes him. If he does, if he gives in like that, then it will be over. He will be content with the knowledge that they love each other, that they are willing to wait for each other until this is all over. It will have to be enough for them to steal brief moments and glances, restraining themselves from going further until the war is over, so he can leave the Order and she can leave the Senate – presumably – and then, they can start a family of their own.

***

Over three years later

Anakin stands over Dooku, hands gripping the lightsaber hilts as he crosses them at the defeated Sith’s neck, hesitating, Palpatine’s words echoing through his mind repeatedly. He – he can’t do that. He can’t kill Dooku in cold blood like that. It’s not the Jedi way! He should arrest him, bring him back to the Temple for questioning and for trial. Perhaps they can get information from him, information which might yet help them end this war.

“I shouldn’t,” Anakin protests, staring down at Dooku. “It isn’t the Jedi way.” He had thought that he would feel good, having Dooku at his mercy like this. He doesn’t. Dooku deserves it, though. He started, or helped start, at least, the Clone Wars that have torn the galaxy asunder and resulted in the deaths of tens of millions of people. He has lost track of how many of his friends among the clones have fallen victim to the Separatist battle droids.

And Ahsoka …

His heart twists painfully when he thinks of her. If not for the war, Barriss would not have Fallen. Ahsoka would not have been framed. She would not have left. At least he knows that she’s okay, and he can only trust that she will continue to be okay while she and the entire 501st Legion deal with Maul on Mandalore.

“Do it, Anakin,” Palpatine practically snaps. “He has done so much evil. He deserves death. The Senate will not be merciful to him, but there is a chance that he will find a way to escape. He is dangerous . Do it, my boy. End this.”

There’s a strange look on Dooku’s face, stupefaction or disbelief maybe, but Anakin doesn’t pay it any mind. He can’t, not when his mind is a tumult of chaos and uncertainty. He instinctively reaches for Obi-Wan, only to remember that his former master is still unconscious. He doesn’t want to do this, even if it is for the best. But… that is what he’s been taught to do, right? Act for the greater good? And can he really disobey a direct order from the Chancellor?

He exhales harshly, jerking the lightsabers apart, looking away as Dooku’s beheaded body falls to the floor. Despite himself, he flinches as the Count’s life vanishes into the Force, a feeling of wrongness gnawing at him. Force, what did he do?

“You did well, Anakin,” Palpatine praises as Anakin frees him from the restraints. He rises, rubbing his wrists, and Anakin risks meeting his eyes for a moment. Despite his words, he seems… disappointed, disapproving.

“He was an unarmed prisoner,” Anakin replies, a little more sharply than he means to, tired of being ordered around and told to do things against his conscience by the people he trusts and respects and looks up to. “It was wrong.”

“He hurt you,” Palpatine reminds, looking pointedly at Anakin’s face and arm, “It is natural that you want revenge on him.”  

Anakin resists the very childlike urge to reach up and touch the scar next to his eye, the one that Dooku gave him a year ago on Naboo when he had been briefly captured by him. It had been a very unpleasant affair, to say the least, and it’s one that Anakin prefers not to think about. Knowing that Grievous went free because of him has never sat well with him.

His fingers tighten on Dooku’s lightsaber, and he feels a violent stab of guilt, almost horrified by his own actions. How could that have been right ? It doesn’t even make sense.

“It wasn’t the first time,” Palpatine continues, and Anakin turns away from him abruptly, not wanting to hear the rest of it. As he hurries to Obi-Wan’s side, he can’t explain what it is that prompts him to tuck away Dooku’s lightsaber, clipping it to the side of his belt where it will unobtrusively remain. Perhaps it is a reminder of his guilt… and of his victory, Anakin doesn’t really know.

He doesn’t look back to see the disapproving, disappointed look on Palpatine’s face. Perhaps he should have, because if he had, he might have seen the flicker of anxiety in the elder man’s eyes before it disappeared entirely, tucked away behind a well-perfected mask.

***

“You can stay, you know,” Obi-Wan says after Palpatine has left from the transport shuttle that took them from where the Invisible Hand crashed to the Senate building.

Anakin looks out at the crowds of Senators, hesitating, before shaking his head. “No,” he declines, “I should go with you to the Temple to report to the Council.” Dooku’s lightsaber feels like it’s burning into his side, no matter how hard he tries to ignore it. But that’s not the real reason he hesitates to stay here at the Senate. Staying here will undoubtedly mean seeing Padme again, and after… last time, Anakin doesn’t think that he’s ready for that.

He had spent time with her, at her apartment, and… things had… gotten out of hand. She had not minded, and nor had he, but he still feels… uncomfortable. They had promised to wait until marriage, and they didn’t. He fears how their actions will affect their friendship, especially with the war not quite yet being over. They had spoken a few times via hologram after that incident, and it had been alright, even if there was an underlying awkwardness which had never existed in the past.

If Anakin sees Padme again, face-to-face, that will mean having to talk to her about what they did. He doesn’t think he’s ready for that yet. Perhaps it is cowardly for him to hide from her, to avoid her, but they – they are not lovers. They were not supposed to be. They were supposed to wait to marry until after the war. If she is merely a friend, then he can avoid her until he feels more… sure of himself.

Obi-Wan studies him, searchingly, before nodding, gesturing for Anakin to join him. They don’t speak much, other than a few comments about the war, as the transport takes them to the Temple. “You defeated Dooku,” he comments at last, and Anakin can’t help but look at him, feeling caught off guard. Obi-Wan smiles, warmly, and Anakin can’t help but smile back. “I am proud of you for that, Anakin. You have done what others could not.”

“I –” Guilt surges up, almost choking him, and he ducks his head, looking away. He can’t bring himself to meet his former master’s blue-gray eyes, filled with affection and pride, and affect these words that he so craves to hear, knowing what he has done. He executed an unarmed man and tapped into the Dark to do so. Perhaps he should be more disturbed by the fact that only one of those two is weighing on his conscience. “Thank you, Master,” he manages at last.

Obi-Wan nudges his shoulder lightly with his own, but he doesn’t push or say anything, even if he must have felt Anakin’s conflicting emotions. Anakin doesn’t know if that makes him more angry or regretful. For all that he wishes they could be close, as they once were, that… is no longer possible. Obi-Wan does not truly trust him – he proved that when he faked his death for that mission – and for the life of him, Anakin cannot understand why. What did he do that his own master doesn’t trust him? He doesn’t know. He had not broken the Code, not truly. He has not acted on his feelings for Padme. So, what, then?

As always, Anakin doesn’t have an answer.

When they return to the Temple for the first time in months, Anakin goes straight to his quarters to rest and recover from the battle. But first, he unclips Dooku’s lightsaber from his belt. If Obi-Wan noticed it there, he said nothing, and nor did anyone else. The grip is cool in his hands, and the kyber crystal within it cries a distressed, mournful tune, one that Anakin almost wishes he could soothe away. It – somehow, it still feels like Dooku, even though he’s dead.

He knows he has no right to keep it. He should give it over to the Council when he reports to them, and they will deal with it as they deal with every lightsaber; undoubtedly, they will destroy it, which makes sense as it belonged to Dooku. But somehow, Anakin feels… entranced almost by the pull of it, and the darkness in the kyber resonates with the dark, bitterness of his guilt. Inhaling slowly, he pushes the ignition, and the red blade hisses to life, illuminating his face and the room with an almost eerie red glow.

When Anakin finally leaves for the debriefing, the lightsaber remains behind.

Chapter Text

"You are under arrest, my Lord," Windu declares firmly, pointing his lightsaber downwards, close enough that Sidious can feel the heat of it. Foolish. He had miscalculated during the fight, and it cost him. But he has not been beaten, and if Windu really thinks that he has been… well, it is something else that he can use to his advantage. The Jedi Master might have the advantage in his use of Vaapad, but Sidious has studied that lightsaber form extensively, knowing that Windu would eventually be one of his greatest enemies.

"Am I?" he drawls, mockingly, reaching out with the Force to check that no one else is nearby. No one is coming, as he has expected. The Jedi never stood a chance; they had no warning when they showed up. Once Windu has been dealt with, he will have to move on to the next part of his plan. This day will yet end with him on the throne, and his most sought-after apprentice at his side. He has foreseen it.

"The oppression of the Sith will never return. You have lost," Windu retorts arrogantly.

Smirking internally, Sidious lashes out quickly, hurling a burst of the Dark Side at Windu and rolling sideways as the Jedi Master swings his purple blade down for the kill. Calling deeply on the Force, he lets lightning burst from his fingertips, arcing towards Windu's lightsaber, the hilt not the blade, as he draws his second lightsaber to his hand, swinging towards the Jedi Master's hand. Windu twists, trying to avoid it, but the blade strikes true, slicing through his wrist.

Windu stumbles back as the electricity connects with his body… and his falling lightsaber. The kyber crystal flickers violently in the Force as it absorbs the charge, radiating back and outwards, exploding in a purple shockwave of energy. Sidious has barely enough time to flip backwards, shielding himself with the Force, and shoving outwards to push it all away from him, but Windu isn't as fortunate. Tiny fragments of the exploding kyber crystal embed themselves into his body, and he stumbles backwards, flying through the broken window as Sidious' Force wave hits him.

The last thing Sidious hears is Windu's cry of pain as the Korun falls from sight.

He sniffs, brushing off his robes. "I lost, did I?" he remarks snidely, as he turns, moving back towards his desk. One victory after another. He's nearly drunk on the feeling. It is only a matter of time before he will have Skywalker himself kneeling at his feet. It was unfortunate that the boy has been so frustratingly reluctant to begin an affair with Senator Amidala. The restraint has made him more controlled, and it has made him… lighter. Disgustingly lighter.

Sidious hates that, but it's nothing that he can't work around. He already accounted for the possibility that the boy, his boy, would not willingly join him. He will manage, and he will win, as always. Pushing a button on his communicator, he opens a channel to all of the clone commanders. "Execute Order 66," he commands, listening to their agreements, before making a special transmission to one of his agents who is among the Temple Guard.

He will make do, as always. The Jedi will be destroyed on this night, and if Skywalker will manage to escape from him… Well, there is a reason why he… created a contingency. He will, eventually, end up with a powerful apprentice, though whether it be Skywalker himself or… the other, remains to be seen.

Sidious has never left anything up to chance.

It is why he is now winning and emerging victorious while the Jedi die at his feet.

***

Days earlier

" Are you certain that Anakin should not accompany me when I pursue Grievous?" Obi-Wan can't help but ask, looking towards Windu and Yoda. He doesn't know how he feels about Anakin staying here, especially after he was given the mission to spy on the Chancellor, which is treason, like Anakin himself had said. Anakin had not been happy, to say the least, and in truth, Obi-Wan has no idea how to feel about it.

On one hand, the Council is right. Palpatine seems to be up to no good, and the best way to ascertain his intentions would be to have Anakin spy on him, especially given the way they are so close. But on the other hand, if there is a conspiracy of some sort, Obi-Wan doesn't much like the idea of Anakin being dragged into the middle of it.

" Anakin is one of the best duelists in the Order," he continues. "He was not wrong about how I struggled against Grievous previously. His help would be invaluable. I feel that the war is coming to an end; we may find Grievous this time."

" Feel it too, I do," Yoda agrees, his hologram crackling.

While this additional, private conversation was not strictly necessary, Obi-Wan had to ask. He – if he is to be going after Grievous, he would feel much better knowing that he has Anakin at his back, even though he understands why Anakin's mission here is so important.

" No," Windu states firmly, "Skywalker should remain here. He has a mission of great importance, and I am not satisfied by his report about his defeat of Dooku. He all but admitted to tapping into the Dark Side."

" He killed Dooku," Obi-Wan retorts, feeling angry. "That is all that matters, is it not? All of us have been tempted by the Dark. It is not fair for us to castigate him for his own struggles, struggles which each and every one of us have faced in the past."

If possible, Windu's expression only hardens. "No," he repeats, "Skywalker stays."

Yoda's ears twitch, and he almost appears disapproving, but he doesn't argue. Nor does Obi-Wan. The decision is already final, and there is no use arguing it. Still, he wishes, and he doesn't know how much he likes Windu's attitude towards Anakin. If Anakin is struggling with the Dark, he needs help. The mission with Palpatine is only stressing him, and he would undoubtedly feel a lot freer if he was to accompany Obi-Wan.

But the mistrust is… disconcerting. Anakin has always been faithful to the Jedi, and Obi-Wan trusts him implicitly. With everything. What does Windu see that he doesn't? Or is the real question: what does Windu refuse to see that Obi-Wan does?

***

Anakin feels the ripple in the Force the moment it begins, a growing crescendo of screams and death. Danger prickles at his senses, and sitting in the Council chambers, he lets his eyes fall shut, drifting free into the currents of the Force as he tries to sense what is coming. He – he needs to do something. He has to stop it. Somehow.

All he can feel is blaring alarm of dangerdangerdanger.

He opens his eyes, standing and stepping to the window, looking outside the Temple. The sun has set, letting him know that it's been many, many minutes since he started his impromptu meditation session, and all Anakin knows is that people – Jedi – are dying. He doesn't understand why. He doesn't – why is this happening? The war is over, right? Sure, they haven't found the Sith Master yet, but… the war is over.

Dooku is dead. Grievous is dead. Windu and three other Jedi Masters went to speak to Palpatine, to deliver the report and ask that he step down from his position. Everything was fine. So, what is this, then?

Cold chills run down Anakin's spine and his hands clench reflexively as he sees lines of clones, hundreds of clones walking into the Temple. And as he reaches out deliberately, towards the entrances of the Temple, he can feel… death. He feels death and cold and wrongness. What is happening? What could possibly have gone wrong now?

It's the Coruscant Guard, he notes, and before he even registers moving, he's dialing the comm frequency for Commander Fox, ready to demand answers. Nothing. Fox doesn't respond. Which is unusual, because Anakin might not be a Jedi Master – though by all rights he should be, given that he was put on the Council on Palpatine's orders – but he is a Council member now, and he is still a very prominent Jedi. Fox always answers him. He is very prompt like that.

But not now.

Apprehension skyrocketing, Anakin tries comming him again, desperately hoping to get an answer. He isn't surprised when he doesn't, and he then tries to contact one of the clones from whom he should get an answer, or insight at the very least.

Appo.

Except, Appo doesn't answer him, and that's when Anakin knows for certain that something is wrong. Appo, and most of the 501st Legion, returned from helping Ahsoka on Mandalore with capturing Maul and defeating his Death Watch warriors. Anakin had spoken to them after they returned, congratulating them on another successful campaign. Something is wrong if his boys aren't even answering his comms.

A part of him wants to leave the Council chambers, even though he was told not to; he knows that having someone of his rank here in case something goes wrong somehow is important, but if that had happened, wouldn't Windu have contacted him? Anakin can't imagine Palpatine putting up a major resistance, even if he can understand the reason for caution. The Chancellor has amassed a lot of power during the war, power he has only ever used for the greater good. Anakin does not agree with the Jedi's fear, but he respects it.

He turns away from the window, striding to the internal communicator in the corner of the room and contacting the Temple Guard. There's nothing, no frequency whatsoever. It's as if… as if communications are being jammed. He spins away, eyes scanning the room calculatingly before making up his mind and heading for the doors of the Council chambers. Whatever has happened, Anakin will clearly not be finding out if he stays here.

As the doors open, he sees a group of younglings, Padawans actually, no older than maybe ten to twelve, running towards him, their fear pouring into the Force, and in the distance, Anakin can now hear blaster fire, something which sends dread coursing through him; he might have heard it earlier if not for the sound-proof doors of the Council chambers.

"Master Skywalker!" cries the boy in the lead, looking immensely relieved to see him. The others echo his greeting, clustering around him, looking up at him, waiting for guidance, vibrating with a barely concealed terror.

"What has happened?" Anakin asks, ushering them back inside the Council chambers and shutting the door, instinctively knowing that it will be safer for all of them. "I have heard nothing." He drops down to one knee in front of them, aware that it will make it easier for them to talk to him if he brings himself down to their level. "Tell me," he requests.

"We don't know," a young human male with blonde hair answers him. "We were accompanying a Master, and the clones came and starting shooting everyone. We were told to run, and we ran."

Anakin shudders internally, reeling from the words. The clones are doing what? Why?! "Is that what happened?" he asks the others, levelly, keeping his voice calm.

"Yes," concurs a young female, who is huddled behind the others, "Sors is right." The others murmur their agreements, and Anakin scrambles to figure out what to do in the face of this very unexpected turn of events. But maybe he should have realized the moment he saw the clones and felt the death. He simply hadn't wanted to think that the clones, men he's known for years, men he's protected with every ounce of his strength on the frontlines, would agree to go along with something like this.

No, they wouldn't. Not his boys.

Then again, he only saw the Coruscant Guard here. Maybe this is – he hardly wants to think it, but he doesn't know what else to think – the Chancellor's work. Maybe the Jedi were right about him, and he's scrambling to keep his power by launching a failed rebellion. Well, it's one that Anakin will have to foil. In truth, he doubts that Palpatine would ever go this far. Ever. They were friends. Anakin has known him for years. It's merely a desperate, wild thought as he struggles to wrap his mind around what has happened, what is happening.

"Don't worry," Anakin soothes the children, laying a hand on Sors' shoulder as he meets all of their eyes. "I will protect you."

He can feel their relief and their gratitude, and he immediately shifts his mind into his General-mode, as he likes to call it, trying to figure out the best way forwards. "I assume all the exits have been barricaded?" he queries, still kneeling in front of them.

They nod.

"From what we saw, the clones are everywhere. There are… so many of them," Sors' voice breaks, face filling with fear again.

"It will be alright," Anakin reassures, or tries to reassure. He cannot bear the thought of something happening to these children, and he can't let himself question if the clones would really be willing to kill children, younglings. The men he knew would never do that. Never. They are soldiers, not an execution squad.

The Force screams, and Anakin registers the doors to the Council chambers sliding open. He doesn't even have a chance to stand before two stun bolts slam into him. He shrugs them off, rising jerkily and igniting his lightsaber, deflecting more stun bolts that come towards him. He's hit by a third when his attention is pulled away by one of the younglings who is hit and goes down, crashing into the floor, unconscious.

His muscles seize, twitching painfully, and he stumbles back, drawing on the Force to hurl the clones backwards. They're trying to stun him, not kill him, and he doesn't understand why. Maybe, just maybe, it's because they're his men. He recognizes them. Appo is one of them. That, he thinks bitterly, explains why he didn't answer me.

"Appo, what are you doing?" Anakin demands, "Stand down!"

"Negative, General," Appo replies, and Anakin can't help but notice how he feels strangely blank in the Force, empty, almost as if he's devoid of feelings and thoughts of his own. "Good soldiers follow orders."

The words jar something in his brain, an important memory tugging at the edges of his consciousness, demanding his attention, but he doesn't have time for reflections right now.

From behind the clones, a Temple Guard approaches, face masked, double-bladed gold lightsaber ignited. Anakin's eyes flicker to him, but he doesn't stop moving, twirling his lightsaber in front of him, blocking the stun bolts that are coming towards him and the children behind him. He doesn't know what to do, where to go. Maybe he should just take a chance at knocking out his men. A stun bolt might knock out some of the children, but it won't kill them, either. Then, they can run. Maybe the Guard can help –

Instead of attacking the clones, like Anakin expected, the Temple Guard raises a hand, blasting Anakin backwards. The Force wave catches him so suddenly and unexpectedly that he doesn't have a chance to block it. He's slammed hard into the wall of the Council chambers, and his lightsaber falls from his hands. Three, or more, stunbolts hit him in rapid succession, and though he struggles hard to shake them off, the world begins to get fuzzy around the edges, his muscles seizing and twitching as he gasps for breath.

"Hold him," he can hear the Temple Guard ordering, and Anakin's men comply without hesitation, dragging him to his knees, though his body refuses to respond to his command – he can't quite feel his limbs properly right now – and he's struggling to stay conscious through sheer willpower, trying to brush off the effects, because the children. He – he has to protect the children. He promised –

"Skywalker, do you see?" the Guard taunts, and it's only now that Anakin can feel the Dark Side in him. He blinks sluggishly, swallowing, trying to say something, but only a groan slips out. "Hold him," he barks to the clones, brandishing his lightsaber in front of the terrified younglings who are huddled together against one of the walls, eyes wide, frozen with terror.

If Anakin could talk, he would scream at them to run.

Instead, all he can do is watch in a mute horror as the Temple Guard approaches them and swings his lightsaber. That's when the screaming starts. They are young, and they have lightsabers, but they're still children, and they're trapped here. One by one, the Guard cuts them down, blocking their attempts at fighting back single-handedly as if it's no more than a nuisance. One of the children who tries to run is shot down by the clones standing guard at the door.

Sors is last, and the Temple Guard throws the child against the wall, pinning him there and cutting off his head.

It lasts no more than a minute at most, but it feels like it could have been hours.

A furious rage bubbles up within Anakin when he sees the dead bodies of the children, the children that he had promised to protect, the children that he had failed, the children that were slaughtered senselessly in front of him. He reaches towards that anger with both hands, uncaring that it's the Dark Side. The chilling cold washes through him, burning him with its ice and with a brief touch of the Force, the lingering effects from the stun bolts are wiped away and he's burning, burning with an energy that he has never before felt.

"Traitor," Anakin snarls, sounding totally unhinged, and the Guard doesn't have a chance to even turn around before Anakin is reaching out with the Force, grasping and hurling him through the windows of the Council chambers. They shatter, and he falls down out of sight, hopefully to his death.

The clones begin to raise their blasters on him, and Anakin lashes out on instinct, tapping into the Force and crushing their spines where it connects with their skull. All of them, ten or so, collapse instantly, dead, and he lunges for his lightsaber, rolling to his feet and standing there for a moment, panting, in the midst of the carnage.

He thinks he should feel guilt for this, for killing his men, his boys. Force, Appo was one of them, and instinctively, Anakin's eyes flicker to him. He's dead, his light in the Force gone. He closes his eyes, feeling a quiet grief at their deaths, at the children's deaths. He failed them. He failed to protect them after he promised, but there are more children in the Temple, more Jedi who are in need of a savior.

Anakin might be Fallen now, he might have tapped into the full power of the Dark Side, but that will not stop him. The Dark Side holds the power that he needs to save people, Jedi from an untimely death. Right now, with so much death and despair hanging in the Force, he feels as if his power is unlimited. He almost feels sick at the thought of allowing it all to fuel him, but these are desperate times, and looking at the dead bodies of the younglings in the Council chambers, he finds that he doesn't much care what he has to do so long as he can stop this from happening again.

He is Anakin Skywalker, and he is free.

Chapter Text

The hallways are swarming with clones, and from the sheer numbers of them here, it makes Anakin wonder, distantly, if the entire Coruscant Guard was brought here. All around him, he can feel the screams, the pain, the death. It hurts the Force, the Light, and it hurts him, too, the human part of him, that is. The Force part of him is satisfied, sucking in the sheer devastation as the Dark is fueled.

There is a reason that Anakin became one of the best Generals in the GAR, and that wasn't only because of his brilliant tactical abilities. Part of it was because of his strength with Force, because of how he could face seemingly impossible odds and survive. Never once did Anakin think that he would be forced to turn those abilities on his very own allies. Betrayal burns heavily within him, and he doesn't hold back as he stalks down the first hall, slaughtering his way through all the clones in his path.

He is good at stealth, and he uses that to his advantage. The longer he can stay hidden, out of sight, the better, because it will give him the element of surprise.

The clones know the Jedi well, but Anakin is… an outlier. He always has been. He has always stood out and been different, if not for one reason, then for another, but never did he think he would be grateful for it. These clones don't know him; they don't know him, don't know how to counter him, and he'll use that.

The Force is with him, the Dark Side is with him, and Anakin does not hold back. He moves through the Temple halls like a blur, a specter of darkness, a lethal killing machine. He cuts through blasters, limbs, and bodies alike, avoiding looking at the dead Jedi – and clones – lying all over the floors as he seeks out those who are still alive to give them a chance. He's tapped so deeply into the Force now that he can feel it, the ebb and flow of life, the pinpricks of fear and despair in the Temple as opposed to the blank spots of light that are now the clones.

Something is wrong with them, but he doesn't have time to think about it, to try and figure out what's wrong, lest by the time he has an answer, all the Jedi will have fallen. Anakin might be curious and desperate for answers, but not so much so that he'll put all those who are living in danger.

He pushes forwards, and the first living Jedi that he encounters is Cin Drallig and a few Padawans, one of which is his, standing back-to-back, surrounded by clones on all sides. At least two of them have already sustained blaster burns, and Anakin reaches out with the Force, wrapping it around the clones' necks and with a flick of his wrist, sending them crashing into the wall. He can hear the sounds of bones snapping as they limply collapse onto the floor, either injured, dead, or unconscious.

"Knight Skywalker," the head of the Temple Guard realizes, blinking, eyes wide with shock at Anakin's sudden appearance. "Thank you for coming."

"Think nothing of it," he answers dismissively. "What has happened? I do not understand why the clones are here. What is their objective?" Anakin feels strangely empty, devoid of emotions, though it's not an uncommon feeling for him to have in the heat of battle, the Force singing through him strongly enough to overpower whatever makes him… him. He is an extension of the Force in those moments and now as well.

And he needs answers.

"I do not know why they are here," Drallig tells him, "But they have been killing every single Jedi they come across, irrespective of age or health."

Anakin breathes out, nodding sharply, eyes flickering towards the Padawans, unable to stop overhearing their murmured, awed, fearful whispers.

"– using the Dark Side!"

"– eyes yellow, and –"

"– save us, though."

"Is he still a Jedi, then? Or a Sith?"

"– on our side, so it doesn't matter!"

He dismisses them as unimportant, especially when he hears the sounds of more footsteps marching down the hall. This is war. There is no time for idle observations. So what if he's using the Dark Side? So what if he Fell? So what if his eyes have turned yellow, or somewhat yellow? He's still doing what needs to be done; he's still the same person he was before.

"And the Temple Guards? I have seen nothing of their presences while fighting."

"They are… gone," Drallig tells him, subdued. "They were killed almost immediately by a traitor." Ah, yes, that one, then, no doubt.

"Run," Anakin orders the Jedi, shifting and raising his lightsaber to face the oncoming wave of troopers. "Get to safety. I will hold them off for you."

"But what about you?" protests one of the Padawans.

"He'll be fine," Drallig replies before Anakin can, and he wonders, momentarily, if he should be touched that the head of the Temple Guard has such faith in Anakin's abilities, or if he should be upset that the Jedi have no care whatsoever for his wellbeing. He doesn't look back at them as they run down the hall, disappearing through a door which closes only seconds before the first clones come around the corner and open fire.

There are no more than twenty of them.

The battle doesn't last very long.

***

Hours earlier

" The time has come," the hooded figure of Darth Sidious tells Balian Valor. Balian stands in a private alcove, his back turned to the hallway, so no one will be able to see the transmission and get alarmed. "It is time for Knightfall, Valor."

" As you say, my Lord," he replies, bowing his head, feeling the first stirrings of excitement surging up within him. He might be a Temple Guard, but he has grown so very tired of the corruption and complacency among the Jedi Order. Throwing out an underage Padawan for a crime she never committed? It was the final straw for him, the final thing which pushed him over the edge, which made him see the truth and embrace the Dark Side.

He has hidden it well, of course, and no one is the wiser.

Over time, he and Darth Sidious have made plans for the final downfall of the Jedi, and he, Balian Valor, will be instrumental in their destruction. While he might not know everything of the plan, he knows enough. He knows that it is crucial that the Temple Guards be taken down as quickly and quietly as possible so they can't sound the alarm or raise the defenses, making it easier for the Jedi to be overwhelmed when they are attacked.

It's a good thing that he's such a high-ranking member of the Temple Guard, a Jedi Master, in fact, and one to whom many of the Guard answer.

" One more thing," Sidious declares. "I want you to find Anakin Skywalker. Subdue him and bring him to me by whatever means are necessary. He is… instrumental."

His brow furrows, though it is hidden behind the mask on his face. "You do not want me to kill him?" he asks, clarifying.

" No," Sidious affirms. "Alive and preferably unharmed."

" I will do as you command."

Balian ends the transmission, tucking away his commlink and walking towards the center where the Temple Guards are stationed; he's been here long enough that he knows all of the guard rotations and schedules.

He enters the room, shutting the doors, moving to a computer console, and entering a few commands, jamming all communications inside the Temple. It can be overruled, but once the fighting starts, who will take the time to do that? He tries not to wonder why Sidious is so adamant on Skywalker's capture. One that powerful could do immense damage. But… it is not his place to question his new master's orders, and besides, he has a suspicion anyways. Sidious wants Skywalker alive, because he wants him to be his apprentice, doesn't he.

And when Balian ignites his lightsaber, cutting down the Temple Guards around him almost before they realize what's happening, he feels nothing but a grim, sick sort of satisfaction.

It is time for one Order to fall and a new one to rise.

***

In her quarters, Shaak Ti kneels, drifting in the currents of the Force as she meditates. She has felt, of course, the major disturbances happening in the Force, and she knows of the attack on the Temple, the many Jedi dying all over the galaxy. It hurts, but she banishes those feelings, keeping her focus solely on embracing the Light and feeding it to those Jedi in the Temple who are still living, who are still strong, who need help and support.

It is a form of battle meditation, and it's the only thing that might buy some of the Jedi enough time to flee. Though she knows it would probably help if she was to join in the fight, she feels that her mission is here. By embracing the Light and feeding its warmth and strength to those Jedi in need, she can amplify their power by sharing her own. It might give them a greater chance, even if she herself falls.

She can feel the clones drawing closer, but she doesn't waver, doesn't let herself come out of her meditative trance. The door behind her opens – Shaak Ti can feel it, though she is too deep in the Force to actually hear it – and a myriad of thoughts race through her mind. She can withdraw from the trance and fight back, defending herself, or she can remain, offering the last vestiges of her power to her fellow Jedi.

It isn't a very hard choice, especially since she can't truly imagine raising her lightsaber against the clones she watched on Kamino. They were hers as much as they could be given their… situation and her position as a Jedi. But she watched them, trained them, ensured that they would be the best soldiers they could be for the Republic.

Maybe she doesn't understand why this is happening, but she doesn't need to, anyways.

She cannot turn her lightsaber onto the clones. She can't.

A sudden flare of fear and pain and darkness draws her attention, and Shaak Ti opens her eyes, the flow of power evaporating as she emerges from her trance in time to hear the clones choking. She jolts to her feet, whirling around to see Skywalker himself standing there, arm outstretched as he strangles three clones with the Force. He crushes their necks with a sickening crunch, dropping the lifeless bodies onto the floor.

"Skywalker," she says intelligently, feeling something akin to fear when she feels the sheer darkness pooling around him, and when he turns towards her, she can see that his irises have bled yellow. He – he is Fallen. He is a Sith in every way that matters, and he doesn't even seem to realize it. Or maybe he just doesn't care.

"Master," he answers, dipping his head in a fleeting gesture of respect, "You should run. Do not sacrifice yourself here for nothing. If you survive, you can carry on the fight. I will remain here."

Shaak Ti can't help but feel a flicker of surprise at his words. It's especially unsettling given that he is so dark, but it doesn't seem to change his behavior – Skywalker has always been far too self-sacrificing for his own good, from what she's heard – which goes against everything she has been taught about the Dark Side. Shouldn't he be more… selfish? Trying to save himself at the cost of others?

"You should leave too, while you still can," she tells him, careful to keep her distance. While she is grateful that he saved her, it is still very unsettling to see him like this.

He laughs, short and hard. "Me?" he echoes, sounding amused, incredulous, and surprised at once. "No. I am staying." He twirls his lightsaber, golden eyes flicking to the halls outside her quarters. "I am – I can fight, Master. I will not die here."

The Force itself seems to echo those words, drawing in around him with a level of power that is both staggering and terrifying. Never before has Shaak Ti seen Skywalker like this, and she doesn't know if she ever wants to, again. It wasn't until now that she truly grasps what it means for him to be the Chosen One. At his words, the Force bends, yields, as if he can will something into existence merely because of who and what he is.

"Go," he says again, a little more gently, "Help those who you can. Flee this place. I will cover for you."

Skywalker steps back into the hall, treading so lightly that she can't even hear him, moving with a swiftness and speed that should be impossible for someone of his size. He is a predator on the prowl, and she has no desire to be anywhere nearby when he goes for the next kill. Casting him one final glance, Shaak Ti turns and hurries the opposite direction, heading for a secret exit from which she might be able to successfully escape.

He is right. All she can do now is run and hope for the best.

***

The stench of death hangs heavily in the air, in the Force, smoke from blasterfire and explosions clouding the hallways, but the battle is far from over. It's been hours with little to no reprieve, and while Anakin has some minor injuries, he's mostly unscathed, though that's probably thanks to his new power boost.

The clones have realized how big of a threat he is, and they're compensating accordingly. No longer are they coming after him with stunbolts, when they recognize him that is, but rather, they're shooting to kill. They've used all sorts of tricks, but Anakin is ready for them. He's been fully expecting them to try using explosives and lure him into traps with other Jedi as bait. He has always had a policy about springing traps, though, and with the Force this strong, speaking to him more clearly than ever before, it is all for naught.

He can feel the clones' lives in the Force, and he can feel where they are. He knows when they're coming and what they're planning. With his level of foresight, there is nothing they can do against him. Nothing at all. Except die, of course.

And there's another trap ahead of him now.

Boring.

Are they just going to march straight towards him in a straight line and start shooting? Again? Seriously. His own men would have been far more creative, and it's for that reason that Anakin is really grateful they aren't here. Aside from how dangerous it would be to him, personally, it would also make it that much harder to kill them. As it is, slaughtering his way through the clones is extremely taxing on his… mental state, but he doesn't stop, because he can't. He failed the younglings, and he won't fail anyone else. Not if he can help it.

He extinguishes his lightsaber as he waits in the middle of the hall, hood pulled over his head to help him blend into the darkness better. Inhaling slowly, Anakin taps into the Force, letting its power flow through him, washing away the exhaustion that's nagging at him. He's been killing for what feels like hours. It probably has been hours by now; it's pitch-black outside, and the attack began towards evening.

And then, the clones approach, swarming him from all sides as they open fire. It's a well-set trap, to be sure, but Anakin has the Force as his ally, and it is telling him that he will not die this day. If he does, he thinks he might be alright with that, too, so long as he can cover for the surviving Jedi who are escaping. Every single Jedi he's come across, he's told the same thing: run. They are; he can feel it. Some of them, he's been able to track until they reach outside the Temple. The building is massive, and no one knows it better than those who live here.

Even though dozens of blaster bolts are speeding towards him, it's as though everything is moving in slow motion as Anakin throws out a hand, temporarily slowing the bolts of energy with the Force. It's not something he's ever done before, at least not to this degree, but with this kind of power flowing through him, with the Dark Side whispering seductive promises to him, he feels unbeatable. And then, he spins through the moving energy like a whirlwind, deflecting each of them backwards with a precise aim that is sure to injure – if not kill – the troops who are attacking him.

As he cuts through the clones attacking him, he sees, up ahead, a group of younglings lying dead. These are distinctly not Padawans, because they don't have the Padawan braids that the ones he encountered earlier do. And from somewhere, somewhere not far, he can feel fear. He reaches towards it, pulling it into the dark vortex whirling around him in the Force as he Force shoves the last few clones backwards so hard that he can hear their bones breaking on impact with the wall.

He hates feeling their pain and fear as much as he drinks it in, and he breaks their necks, giving them a fast, painless death. Smoke and debris hover in the air as everything falls silent again. Another fight has been won, and it's probably one of the last, too. Even though he strains his ears, he cannot hear blasterfire anymore, not like earlier. And the feeling of death, while still smothering, is lessening as fewer people die.

But he can still feel that fear.

Closing his eyes, he looks around himself with the Force, tracking it to its source, moving slowly, and when he opens his eyes and looks down, there's a child at his feet, one of the younglings, except this one… is still alive.

Chapter Text

Anakin extinguishes his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt and kneeling next to the youngling’s body. Carefully, he turns her – it is definitely a girl – over onto her back, careful not to move her to abruptly lest he jar the injuries in her body. As he touches her, he reaches out with the Force, doing a quick scan of her body. Physically, she’s fine other than a large gaping wound in her abdomen that is slowly killing her. She’s clinging to life with a furious determination and anger, and it’s a jarring reminder of himself in many ways, because she, like him, wants revenge.

Her eyes blink open at the touch, surprise and relief flickering across her face when she sees him there, and somehow, the fact that she’s alive, that this child is not another one he’s failed, manages to break through the haze of the Dark Side coursing through him.

Anakin doesn’t recognize her, though that isn’t surprising given that there must have been hundreds of younglings in the Temple. He was popular among them, and he spent time with them – mainly because they liked to track him down and beg for stories – but he never knew each and every one of them. Even if he had wanted to do so, he never had the time.

Her black hair is curly, her eyes a deep brown, her skin dark, and Anakin reaches out, touching his fingers to her forehead as he sends the Force through her more deeply, trying to see if he can do something to help her as he taps into the side of the Force he has not used since this all began. The Light comes when he calls, and he doesn’t spare a moment to think about how that goes against all of the Jedi’s teachings.

But then again, when he needed help, it was the Dark that answered him, that gave him strength.

From the Light, Anakin gains a welcoming embrace of peacefulness and healing which he directs into the child’s body. Perhaps it is already too late for her, because he knows that she cannot get the medical attention that she needs, but he can at least try to save her, even if he is not skilled in the least with Force healing; it has always taken a level of connection and control that overwhelmed him due to his sensitivity.

This time… is different.

He gets healing energy from the Light and directs it to the child’s wound, while from the Dark he gains strength and power to sustain himself. Healing is a very taxing ordeal, and he cannot afford to become weak, not now.

As both sides of the Force crash through him, he can feel the wound regenerating, closing, something that he’s never been able to attain in the past. A wave of exhaustion rushes through him when he’s done, and he pulls back from her, regarding her silently and blinking past the tiredness that threatens to drag him under. He needs rest almost more than he needs air to breathe, but that’s not a luxury that he can afford, so he draws on the Force to continue to sustain himself for the time being.

First, he needs to get this child and himself to safety out of the Temple. Then… he will figure it out when the time arrives.

“Master Skywalker.” Her voice is quiet, relieved. “You… healed me.”

“I did, young one,” he replies. “Who caused you such a critical injury?”

“It was a Temple Guard,” she answers, and Anakin can feel her anger flare, briefly, his own following as he thinks back to – to the Council chambers and the Temple Guard who was there. Undoubtedly, it is the same person. “He came through with the clones,” she explains, “And they shot some of my friends. He killed the rest of us.” She glances sideways to the dead bodies lying on the floor, her grief flaring sharply into the Force though she doesn’t cry. “I hid with the bodies when he left,” she adds softly, “So he wouldn’t come back and see I was still alive.”

Anakin feels his heart twist painfully at her words, at the knowledge of how much he failed, of how much they lost. The Temple was their home, and it cuts at him to see how it’s been reduced to this state, to being invaded by outsiders, it’s Light damaged and destroyed.

“What do you call yourself?” he questions in an attempt to distract her mind from the horrors to which she has borne witness.

“I’m Reva,” she tells him. “Reva Sevander.”

Anakin inhales slowly, holding out a hand to her, to Reva, as he crouches at her side. “Then permit me to take you from the Temple, Reva. I will protect you if you allow it.”

She readily takes his hand, all but clinging to him, as she stands, one hand going to her abdomen where she had been stabbed with a lightsaber; while Anakin cannot see the area, he imagines that there will be a scar there, even if it’s only minor. He rises as well, feeling painfully awkward with a small child holding onto him like her life depends on it. “Of course, I’ll stay with you,” Reva says solemnly, staring up at him. “You saved me.”

He nods to that before asking, “Does it hurt you still?”

She shakes her head, breathing deeply, testing it. “No, not anymore. It just… tingles.”

Anakin genuinely has no idea if that’s normal after intensive Force healing. He doesn’t know of anyone who is even capable of performing a feat such as the one he did. Healing minor injuries with the Force, and even stabilizing someone or putting them in a healing trance is one thing. Entirely repairing a major abdominal stab wound? That’s totally different.

“How old are you?” he wonders, looking around the hall, reaching out with the Force, checking to see if anyone is coming. No one is; they’re still safe.

“Eleven,” she informs him, “But I’m not a Padawan yet. No one took me.”

“That is a good thing,” Anakin replies solemnly, placing his other hand, the prosthetic, on her shoulder. “The frontlines are not a place for children. Come on,” he continues before she can either protest being a child or how she is definitely skilled enough for warfare, “We need to keep moving if we are to escape.”

Another quick scan of the Temple through the Force lets him know that there are very few Jedi still in the building. It feels empty, dark, violated.

He pushes that thought aside, mindful of the child next to him, as he gently pulls his hand from hers putting it on her shoulders and pulling her against his side – it’s the best he can do, because he would very much like to shield her from the sheer violence and brutality that he unleashed, but he cannot do so right now, not while they could still be in danger from the clone patrols that are searching – as he steers her down the hall.

Reva keeps her head mostly ducked down, one hand clenched in his sleeve as they walk from the hall. She stays next to him as Anakin guides them through the Temple. It’s not an aimless walk, but it is a long one, because Anakin needs answers, and he would like to collect some… personal items from his quarters before leaving for the final time. Yes, it will be a risk, but trying to make a direct break for the exit could be just as risky. Better to let the clones settle a little and think that they’ve eliminated everyone rather than trying to escape while they’re still on high alert. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one, and the Force does not warn Anakin of any imminent dangers.

Reva doesn’t let go of him until they reach his quarters, and then, she hovers right inside the closed door, looking around curiously as Anakin swiftly grabs a bag, putting in it a few items which he either needs or wants: another prosthetic, parts for it, a few unusual and custom-made tools, his model starfighter which he carefully wraps in cloth, a holodisk with holos from his life as a Jedi, a holodrive with personal things on it including some of his random engineering projects, another set of Jedi robes, Ahsoka’s Padawan braid, and one of Obi-Wan’s spare robes – what of it?

There are so many things that he has here, things which he wants nothing more than to take with him, but he can’t do that, because he doesn’t have the time or ability; he can only take what he can reasonably carry, and he knows how fortunate he is, because most of the Jedi never got this chance and some of them never will.

“Let’s go,” he says to Reva, hoisting the bag over his shoulder and ushering her back into the hall. It’s nighttime – nearly four in the morning according to the chrono in Anakin’s room – but despite it, the halls are still quite well-lit. He has always liked the nightlight in the Temple, because it always seemed so… natural. It isn’t too harsh or too bright. It is a dim yet warm golden hue that always felt welcoming.

He doesn’t know what he thinks about it anymore, but it’s undeniably dim enough to cast shadows, making it easier for them to move stealthily through the halls.

“Where are we going now?” the child whispers to him as they pause behind another column and wait for yet another clone patrol to pass by them.

“We need answers,” Anakin responds just as quietly. “We need to know who did this and the purpose behind it all.” After all, if he doesn’t even have that information, he won’t have any way of knowing who he can trust. As it is, he still doesn’t. Anyone other than fellow Jedi are suspect, no matter who they are. He forces himself to not think about how many other Jedi are even still alive; the speculating would hurt too much.

Fortunately, since he was appointed to the Council, he knows that his codes will work, so he should be able to gain access to the central control room of the Temple, a room only accessible to Council members. Going there will be a risk, but it’s another one that they need to take. If they need to, they can retreat and try again later, but this is something that he must do. If he saw any other Jedi around, he could send Reva with them to safety as he himself cannot leave the Temple until all of his business here is finished.

They don’t get that far, because even from a distance, Anakin can feel the cold chill of the Dark Side settling into place as someone arrives. Instantly, he locks down his shields entirely, cloaking himself in the Force so that no nearby Force sensitive can feel him, and reaching out with the Force, he wraps Reva in the same bubble of protection. Their Force signatures wrapped together this closely, he can almost feel the way she’s trembling next to him as she feels the same thing that he does, his fist tightening on his sleeve as if his presence alone will protect her.

“We need to hide,” Anakin decides aloud, scanning their surroundings for he has no doubts that the person he now feels is the Sith Master himself: Darth Sidious. And while he might normally take the chance of fighting, he won’t do so while Reva is here with him, young and vulnerable, and while he himself is so worn out.

The best – albeit craziest – hiding spot is on a ledge atop the ceiling-high columns, though it takes them sometime to actually get up there, given how high off the floor it is. But at the same time, it means that no one will see them since no one would ever think to look. Anakin presses Reva up against the wall, lying next to her as he peers over the edge down to the hallway below. She reaches for his hand, gripping it tightly; her fingers are cold, but she says nothing, even though she’s trembling.

“It will be alright,” Anakin whispers despite himself. He doesn’t want to make another promise to a child he will fail, but he has the Force, the Dark Side, as his ally now, even if he’s currently primarily touching the Light. Having Reva here with him is… grounding somehow, and it reminds him of the good times, of the positive. He doesn’t feel as dark with her present.

She ducks her head in a nod, clinging a little tighter as they hear footsteps echoing down the hall. Anakin hardly dares to breathe as he sees approaching figures, and an icy chill washes over him when he recognizes the first individual: the Temple Guard. He doesn’t dare probe outwards with the Force, but from what he can sense, it’s the same one who – who killed the youngling earlier, the same one who nearly killed Reva. He’s followed by two clones, one of whom is Commander Fox. Opposite him, a hooded figure steps into Anakin’s view, and from the way malice radiates from him, Anakin is certain that it’s Darth Sidious himself.

More than anything, he wants to jump down there and kill them both, but he restrains himself because he has Reva to care for. He won’t abandon her, especially not for a mere chance that he may be able to kill the Sith Master behind everything which has transpired here. He wanted answers, and it looks like he’ll be getting them.

“It is done, my Lord,” the Temple Guard declares, dropping to one knee. “It is all finished. The Jedi are all dead.”

“Good. Very good,” purrs Sidious, and Anakin nearly chokes when he hears the voice. It’s so familiar and surely it can’t be –

“What of Skywalker?” Sidious continues. “Did you capture him as I instructed? I have been awaiting news of his capture.”

The Temple Guard hesitates, but only for a moment. “He managed to escape,” he reports, still kneeling. “I had him subdued, but he embraced the Dark Side and slaughtered the clones. Many Jedi escaped the Temple because of him.”

For the briefest of milliseconds, Anakin could swear that he feels… fear. Fear from Sidious. From – from – no. It’s not possible. It’s not.

“Find him,” Sidious commands coldly. “Subdue him if you can. If you cannot, then kill him. I have no use for him if he has gone rogue.”

“As you say, my Lord,” the Temple Guard agrees.

“Until Skywalker is found, you shall my apprentice. Rise, Darth… Inquiere.”

“I am… honored, my Master,” the Temple Guard, Inquiere now, murmurs as he rises to his feet. “Your wish is my command. I will locate Skywalker.”

“See that you do, my apprentice, see that you do.”

Sidious turns towards the exit, and as he does, a ray of light falls on his face, illuminating it, and Anakin drops his head down for a moment to stifle a scream. He wants to give in to the Dark Side again like he did earlier. He wants to rage and slaughter as if that might be enough to get rid of the horrible burn of betrayal that is smothering him.

It was all fake then, wasn’t it?

Palpatine never truly cared about him. All he wanted was Anakin’s power. And it hurts. Oh, it hurts, a gaping wound ripping him open from the inside out. It hurts in a way he didn’t even know he could hurt. It almost hurts more than it did when Obi-Wan betrayed him during the entire Hardeen debacle (but only almost). Palpatine was – he was Anakin’s confident, his mentor, the one person he thought he could confide in about anything and everything.

And now, everything he once thought he knew has been turned on its head. Upside down. Inside out. It’s – he feels wrong, used, betrayedhurtangry.

He almost jumps off the ledge, almost lunges for the Sith Master who caused all this, the Sith Master who has only ever used him. He almost lets the Dark Side back in enough to sweep away his resistance and go after the one person he thought he could always trust.

But then, he feels Reva’s hand in his, her grip tightening as she feels his inner conflict. Given how he’s shielding her, it makes sense that she can feel past the shields he always has up to keep others out of his head. “Master,” she whispers, sounding scared, and for a moment, a brief moment, Anakin could imagine that it’s another young girl next to him, seeking his guidance and support, but Ahsoka would never show her fear the way Reva is.

And he lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, letting his body slump on the edge of the ledge, allowing the tension coiled in his muscles to dissipate. He cannot kill Palpatine, not yet, not when Reva is still here. He needs to get her out of here, needs to get her to safety, and until that is done, he has to wait.

Once he gets Reva out, he’ll go after Palpatine, after Sidious, and when he does, he won’t hold back. He will fight to kill, and he’ll slaughter everyone who tries to stop him. If he takes down Sidious, he can avenge all of the Jedi who fell this day, he can avenge all the Jedi who were murdered by the Sith. He is the Chosen One. He the only one who can and should go after Palpatine to kill him, end him, end this.

“It’s alright, little one,” Anakin rasps, daring to speak only once the footsteps have faded from his hearing. “We are alright.”

He waits a heartbeat longer before sitting up, adjusting the bag he’s carrying and leaping to the floor, landing lightly. Reva jumps down after, and he slows her fall with the Force, instinctively reaching for her hand as he leads her from the Temple. There is nothing more that they can do here, and Anakin has a Sith Master to kill.

As far as he knows, there is only one safe place to which he can go, and it’s the one place that he isn’t ready to go.

500 Republica.

Padme.

If anyone can keep Reva safe and hidden while Anakin deals with Darth Sidious, Padme can.

Chapter Text

It’s still the middle of the night, even if it’s approaching early morning, but the clone patrols are everywhere. While Anakin knows that it would be easiest for them to slip out under the cover of darkness, he worries for the risks that will pose. He doesn’t know if Sidious or Inquiere know he’s still in the Temple, or if the new Sith apprentice is simply being… careful.

Either way, it leaves Anakin – and Reva – temporarily trapped inside. The girl can’t fight, and Anakin isn’t willing to put her in harm’s way if he can keep her safe. He himself is worn out, exhausted, from the fighting and… perhaps from the Dark Side, too. He doesn’t trust that he can take on a full battalion of clones and come out unscathed again, especially not when he still has Reva to protect.

So, instead of forcing his way out, Anakin withdraws deeper into the Temple, hiding them both away in a storage closet where the Temple droids stay. The door is well-concealed, built into the surrounding designs to make it less obtrusive, and the only reason Anakin can find it so well is because of all the times that he snuck down here when he was younger, still a junior Padawan.

They spend the night there, though it takes some coaxing before Reva is willing to lie on the floor next to Anakin and get some rest while he sinks into a light mediative trance. It isn’t nearly as effective as true sleep, but it serves its purpose, and Anakin has lost track of the number of times on the frontlines when he used mediation in lieu of sleep; it’s still refreshing in its own way, and like this, he can also keep a lookout in case anyone comes their way.

No one comes.

There are so many thoughts buzzing through his mind, but through sheer willpower, Anakin pushes them aside, forcing himself to do nothing other than drift in the currents of the Force and just be as he watches over Reva while she rests.

The sun has been risen for more than a couple hours by the time that Anakin senses fewer clone patrols and is willing to venture from the enclosed room. The Temple is quiet, but it’s still soaked with the feeling of death, of darkness. He can still hear the screams echoing through the halls, the blaster fire. Their home has been desecrated but leaving will still be… hard.

Anakin senses a faint tremor in the Force, a disturbance near the front entrance, and he uses it to their advantage when clone reinforcements are called to help. One hand on Reva’s shoulder, they sneak into the hangar bay of the Temple. It’s… devastated. Almost everything has been destroyed, including all of the flyable starships, fighters, and speeders. He stands there, filled with dismay, before he shakes himself back to the present, scanning for the clone guards who are stationed here.

There are only six, and Anakin reaches out with the Force, wrapping it around their necks and crushing, killing them before they even have a chance to notice his presence and sound an alarm. At his side, Reva doesn’t even seem fazed by the violence; unsurprising, given what happened last night. He makes a beeline for the back corner where he stashed a speeder that he had crashed and later repaired. On the outside, it looks like junk, but it will serve its purpose.

It’s still there, thankfully untouched, and with it, is Artoo.

A wave of relief washes over Anakin when he sees his astromech. He would have hated to lose him, and he hadn’t given it much thought, since while Artoo might be a friend, the clones weren’t here to destroy droids; they were here for the Jedi, and Anakin’s sole thought had been to protect them as best he could.

Anakin slips into the pilot’s seat, and he fires up the engines, speeding from the hangar entrance as fast as he can before they’re spotted. Yes, it’s stupid and highly risky, but he can sense that there are not nearly as many clones left in the Temple, and he felt the deaths near the entrance. Whichever Jedi – or whoever they are – who were foolish enough to come here will keep the clones distracted long enough to cover Anakin’s escape with Reva.

“Where are we going?” Reva asks quietly once they’ve made it into the traffic lines without anyone seeing or trying to stop them. Anakin doubts that their departure will be unnoticed for long, and he’s counting on someone trying to track them, hence why he’ll need to take a roundabout path to their destination.

“To a friend I know,” Anakin replies, keeping his senses carefully attuned to any possible ripples in the Force. “She will help us.” He hopes. He hasn’t spoken with Padme much after the… incident shortly after Ahsoka left the Order, after all. Though he doesn’t think that she’s upset at him for so obviously avoiding her, it’s possible. Either way, knowing Padme, she won’t betray them; she isn’t going to be any happier with the destruction of the Jedi Order, and there’s no way that she doesn’t know.

The smoke from the battle must have been visible across half the planet or thereabouts anyway.

Reva nods, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to appear smaller, and Anakin reaches out towards her, gently brushing a hair back from her face. He doesn’t know how else to help her, how else to offer comfort in the wake of her losing everyone she ever knew. It humbles him to see how deeply this child trusts him, looks up to him, even after what happened. She doesn’t blame him for his failures at the Temple, even though there has to have been something he could have done better.

There always is.

Instead, she gives him the slightest of smiles, though the pain in her dark brown eyes never fades. Anakin returns it with one of his own before he refocuses on the drive and on all the thoughts that have been demanding his attention for hours.

He knows who caused this, who was behind all of this, but what he doesn’t understand is why. Why did the clones turn on the Jedi like that? It doesn’t make sense. Yes, he knows that they were raised to be loyal to the Republic, and he can understand why the Coruscant Guard would be willing to go along with such orders, but the 501st? His own men? No. It doesn’t make sense. There must be something that he’s missing, but what?

A vague wisp of a memory hovers on the edge of his consciousness again, just like earlier at the Temple, when…

“Negative, General. Good soldiers follow orders.”

Anakin blinks, now having the presence of mind to actually think back to the last time he heard those works, and he can’t quite stop the flood of horror that hits him when he remembers. Fives. Oh Force, how could he have forgotten? It was before the Outer Rim Sieges, back when he was still recovering from losing Ahsoka, but the whole incident with Fives had shaken him to the core. Thinking about it now, remembering what Fives had said to him…

“I was framed because I know the truth, the truth about a plot, a massive deception!”

“Well, there’s a sinister plot in the works against the Jedi. I have proof of it.”

“The evidence is in here. It’s in here. It’s in all of us, every clone!”

“Organic chips, built into our genetic code to make us do whatever someone wants, even kill the Jedi.”

“The Chancellor will try to kill me!”

“He’s in on it! I don’t know to what extent. But I know he orchestrated much of this.”

Anakin doesn’t know how or why he ever overlooked it. He should never have trusted the official report from the Council and from the Chancellor. It – he listened to his superiors over his friend. If he hadn’t, if he had done something differently, how much of this could have been avoided? Would Fives still be alive? Would they have confirmed his words?

Anakin has no idea, and he’ll never know now. But then again, if he had discovered the truth, if he had realized that Fives was right when he warned that the organic chips in their heads had a sinister purpose, who would have listened to him anyway? He would have gone to Palpatine about it, foolishly hoping that the Chancellor himself might not be corrupt like Fives claimed even if everyone around him was. It – it probably would have gotten him killed.

Sidious would never have allowed anyone, even the person he apparently wants as his apprentice, to interfere in his plans.

It leaves Anakin feeling sick with guilt, though, at the knowledge that this all happened because of the Sith, that the men he slaughtered last night may have been forced into something against their free will. It makes sense, however, and it explains a lot, because no matter how much brainwashing the clones endured on Kamino, there is nothing strong enough to destroy the bonds between soldiers, between the Jedi and the clones. They fought side by side for years; they looked out for each other, and the clones’ loyalties… some of them probably began to change. Some of the clones, though Anakin cannot speak as to how many, since he doesn’t know them all, would have chosen their Jedi above orders.

As guilt overwhelms him, and fears for those who he knew rises, Anakin pushes aside all thoughts about the clones. He cannot afford to let himself fear for Obi-Wan, for Ahsoka, for – for Aayla, even.

There are many Jedi he knew, even if he didn’t consider them friends.

Well, other than Aayla, that is.

As he thinks of the Twi’lek Jedi Master, he can’t quite stop the blush from spreading across his face as he remembers their… friendship. He had needed someone after Ahsoka left, after he and Padme went way too far, doing things that friends don’t do. He had needed someone as the war got worse and before the Outer Rim Sieges began. Aayla had been that someone. She had been willing, more than willing, and they had been lovers for a short time. They knew that it wouldn’t last, not only because Anakin was in love with Padme, even if things between them were a million levels of awkward, but because they were Jedi, and Jedi are not allowed to have relationships.

He never told Aayla about Padme, though he sometimes wondered if she knew or at least suspected he entertained feelings for another. They had been clear to each other about what they were from the start: a way to unwind and a means of intimacy with another. Both had been extremely stressed, so it worked. He never used her, and they had amicably broken things off before the Outer Rim Sieges began, when they had to part ways.

Anakin hasn’t seen her since, not in person, at least, and on brief occasions, he has found himself thinking of her and wanting.

But Aayla is not Padme. She is not the woman who has taken his heart, the woman to whom he has sworn himself, the woman he has promised to leave the Order for and marry – though he doesn’t know how that will ever work out now, what with the Jedi’s destruction and all, not to mention whatever else has happened that he is unaware of.

Though Anakin and Padme never talked about a relationship much after the Clone Wars began, he knew it was often on their minds. But they never promised they would never spend time with another. They never said they wouldn’t take a lover. They only swore that they would, once the war ended, marry and start a family of their own together.

He never considered being with Aayla like that to be a betrayal of Padme, though perhaps he might have if not for… Zygerria, for her. Maybe there is a part of him which felt unfaithful after that, though he never did anything, never chose anything. Maybe he is not as alright from that mission as he likes to pretend. It’s not something he’s ever spoken to Padme about. He’s never told her about Aayla either. And he knows that, when they can and do pursue something like they both so desperately want, he will have to tell her everything. There can be no secrets between them for a marriage to work.

As Anakin flies the speeder towards the landing platform of Padme’s apartment, he pushes all idle thoughts from mind. It’s time to focus. He needs to find out from her what all has happened, what all the galaxy knows about… last night, and then, he needs to ensure Reva will be safe here before he goes after Sidious.

***

The moment Obi-Wan heard about the coded message being broadcast from the Temple, he knew that he had to go back. He could not, in good conscience, try to protect himself when so many Jedi survivors could be misled and return to the Temple, to their deaths. Master Yoda had, unsurprisingly, agreed with him, and the emergency session of the Senate which has been called gave them both the opportunity to slip to the Temple undetected.

And maybe there is also another reason for his desire to return, a reason that he cannot bring himself to think about too deeply. Thinking will mean hoping, and hope is a very dangerous thing to have in these dark times. So many Jedi have died, and Bail knows of no one other than Yoda as of yet. But Obi-Wan has not given up all hope that there are still other survivors out there. He just doesn’t know if – if –

(Anakin, please be alright. Please. Please.)

There are clones guarding the outside of the Temple entrance, clones from the Coruscant Guard, and Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate to kill him, he and Yoda moving on opposite sides of the entrance as they cut down the resistance. They have to be thorough, because they cannot afford to let an alarm go out, not when the lives of so many Jedi survivors may be at stake, if indeed there still are many survivors.

The Force is clouded, dark, and that darkness only deepens as they step into the main hall of the Temple. Obi-Wan can feel the death hovering in the air, clouding the Force, and he can see the smoke and debris, the blasterfire burns on the walls, the dead bodies on the floors. The deeper they go, the worse it gets. Not only Jedi are lying here, but some clones as well, and it makes him wonder how many of them died here if they haven’t even had time to remove all of the bodies.

“Not even the younglings survived,” he whispers, horrified, stopping next to the body of a young boy. There are a few younglings here, lying dead on the floor, and there are clones crumpled against a wall, heads twisted at an unnatural angle that makes him feel nauseous. If he probes outwards, beyond his shields, he can feel the Dark Side tainting everything. Rage, fear, hate, pain. It’s all so much, and he shudders back from it, keeping his shields firm.

“Killed not by clones these younglings were,” Yoda notes, his gimer stick tapping on the floor as he moves closer, his ears drooping with sadness and grief. “By a lightsaber they were.”

Obi-Wan kneels by the body, looking at the stab wound in the young boy. “Who? Who could have done this?” he asks helplessly, desperate for answers. Who among the Jedi could have turned on their own and led the clones against them? It must have been a Jedi, right? All the Sith are dead, gone, or captured in Maul’s case.

Yoda doesn’t answer; he doesn’t know any more than Obi-Wan himself does. As they move deeper into the Temple, towards the control room from which they can dismantle the signal, Obi-Wan can’t help but look at the bodies, desperately wondering if he’ll find one here which will shatter whatever is left of him.

(Anakin. Anakin –)

He doesn’t, and he doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse.

“I have recalibrated the code, warning all surviving Jedi to stay away,” he reports minutes later.

“For the clones to discover the recalibration a long time it will take,” Yoda replies.

Despite himself, Obi-Wan turns towards the security recordings, a desperate desire to know. “There is something I must know,” he murmurs, stepping towards it. He can feel the Grandmaster’s eyes on him, but Yoda doesn’t stop him as he enters the code and pulls up the recordings, trying to get an idea as to what happened here in the Temple.

(Where is Anakin? Where is he? Is he still alive?)

His breath catches when he finds the footage of Anakin in the Council chambers when the attack started, and he desperately takes him in, hoping that this won’t be the last time he ever sees him. He watches as it progresses, as the younglings come, as the clones come, as – as the children die and Anakin loses it entirely, tapping into the Dark Side and Falling.

Numbly, Obi-Wan fast-forwards the footage, pausing at another moment later and watching with equal parts shock and horror as Anakin slaughters the clones like it’s nothing, like they’re nothing, like this isn’t even hard for him. He Force chokes them, several at a time, snapping their necks and tossing their bodies aside like rag dolls. The clones never stood a chance against him, and how could they? Anakin is so powerful; he’s the Chosen One, and maybe it wasn’t until this moment that Obi-Wan begins to understand what that really means.

Years ago, the Council had hesitated to accept Anakin, labeling him as dangerous.

Obi-Wan never saw it. He knew Anakin had a great propensity for the Dark, but he never thought that it would be an issue. He had hoped that Anakin would come to him if he ever struggled. Seeing Anakin Fall isn’t as devastating as it might have been if Anakin was against them rather than for them. He Fell, sacrificed himself to protect the Jedi, and Obi-Wan can’t be angry at him for that, not when it means that Anakin survived.

He’s lost so much in the past day, so many friends are now dead, but Anakin – Anakin is not. He is alive, even if he has Fallen, but Obi-Wan is too grateful that he survived to care. “We have to find him, Master,” he states firmly, shutting down the recordings that show yet another scene of Anakin’s carnage. “We have to find him. He can help us destroy the Emperor.”

“Hm. Agree I do. Find young Skywalker we must.”

“But how?” Obi-Wan asks, suddenly realizing how impossible of a task they have. “I don’t know where he might have gone.”

“Use your feelings, Obi-Wan,” Yoda tells him cryptically, as if that is supposed to help anything, “And find him we will.” 

Chapter Text

Padme comes out to meet him – them, rather – as soon as they climb out of the speeder. Perhaps she had seen Anakin’s arrival, or perhaps Threepio had been watching, it doesn’t really matter. “Anakin,” she breathes, relief flowing into the Force when she sees him. “I heard the news, and I was so worried about you, about everyone.” She ushers them both inside, casting a curious look at Reva who is pressed against Anakin’s side again.

The girl might not normally be shy, but she has been through a lot, and she’s rightfully traumatized. It’ll probably be… difficult for her to leave him until she settles down a little, but unfortunately, that’s not time that they have. Anakin hasn’t told her of his plans for killing Sidious yet, because he needs to ascertain her safety first. There’s no use stressing her unnecessarily.

Once they’re inside the familiar living room, Anakin feels himself relaxing as his exhaustion begins to catch up to him again. He forcefully keeps it at bay, because he’s used to going for extended periods of time with little to no sleep. He’ll be fine for several more days before crashing. But now that he’s here, he notices something… strange. An anomaly. He probes outwards with the Force, stilling when he feels an unfamiliar Force presence.

Padme.

She’s pregnant.

A myriad of feelings rush through him, jealousy and resentment being at the top of the list. It’s wrong for him to feel that way because they never agreed not to take other lovers. But – but she’s pregnant.

That’s not nothing. It’s not something that Anakin can ignore. He only slept with her once, and that only happened because things got… so out of hand. He wants to demand answers from her, but he can’t do that in front of Reva. He can’t afford to get upset or lose control, so matter how angry and hurt he might be feeling.

“What happened? What did you hear?” Anakin asks, forcing himself not to think about the unborn child in Padme’s womb, forcing himself not to wonder how this will change everything, how it will change their plans for the future, for their future.

“There was a broadcast from the Chancellor’s office yesterday evening,” she explains, expression troubled. “Palpatine announced that the Jedi tried to assassinate him and said that the rebellion was being dealt with. He called for an emergency session of Senate this morning where he pushed for the formation of an Empire. There – the Republic is gone, Anakin. We’re under the rule of an Empire with Palpatine himself as the Emperor.”

“He’s the Sith Master,” Anakin tells her, feeling bitter and betrayed by the man he had once trusted so deeply. “Palpatine is Darth Sidious. He is the one who orchestrated the Clone Wars and arranged events so that they transpired as he willed it. The clones marched on the Temple last night, and they killed everyone. I – there were survivors. I enabled their escape, but most of the Jedi are now one with the Force.”

He looks down at the child at his side. “This is Reva Sevander. As far as I know, she is the only youngling who made it. I rescued her, healed her. She needs somewhere safe to stay. She must hide. Can you help her, Padme?”

Padme blinks, dark brown eyes filled with a quiet sorrow at his words. “Of course,” she answers immediately. “Of course, I will help you. I will help both of you.”

Anakin shakes his head. “You need not worry about me. It is my responsibility to the Jedi Order to carry out the destruction of Darth Sidious.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, and Reva’s eyes widen at the revelation. “You intend to kill him.”

“Or die trying,” Anakin answers levelly. “I cannot allow him to live, not after what he has done, what he intends to do.”

One hand goes to her stomach, and he can feel her distress in the Force as she’s visibly torn. “I – Ani, I… There is something you need to know,” she says. Though he can’t read her mind, he can guess what it is that she plans to tell him. He wants to interrupt her, to stop her from speaking so he doesn’t have to hear her words. More than anything, he fears that she is about to tell him that she is in love with another man now. And really, who wouldn’t want to marry her? She’s beautiful and intelligent. She is popular, too. There are so many people out there who are more worthy of her than Anakin Skywalker ever could be.

Why did he ever think that something between the two of them could ever work out or last?

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts out in a rush, expression strained. “I – Anakin, it’s yours.”

The world screeches to a halt around him, and for a moment, Anakin doesn’t think that he heard right. He couldn’t possibly have heard right. All he can do is stare at her, trying to sense any deception in her. “What?” he manages to say.

She casts Reva an uncomfortable glance before looking at him again. “The child is yours,” she repeats. “I know this is sudden and unexpected, and I would have told you earlier, but… I couldn’t get ahold of you.” There’s something almost knowing in her eyes, and it makes him feel ashamed. “It’s alright,” she continues before he can say anything. “I understand. You were not ready for it, and this is not something you wanted so soon.”

He hardly hers her words over the screaming of ‘I’m going to be a father’ in his head.

“Padme…” Words fail him, and he steps forwards, touching her shoulders, “I – I should not have stayed away from you. I should have checked on you when I returned to Coruscant, and I apologize for the distance. It was not right of me. Please do not think this is something I did not want. You, Angel, you know how badly I have wished for a family. This is all I have ever wanted. I am happy, elated that I will be a father, but the timing… could have been better.” He huffs out a strained, half-mirthless laugh as he cradles her face, touching their foreheads together, mindful of the fact that Reva is right behind them.

He feels torn, uncertain what path he needs to take. Can he leave Padme, leave his child to go on what may well be a suicide mission? He – more than anything, he now wishes, suddenly and fiercely, that he could take Padme and Reva and flee with them to a remote planet where they can live without fear from the Empire and the Sith. They could all be safe there, happy.

But – but –

Sidious.

Sidious betrayed him. Palpatine betrayed him, manipulated him, and that is something that Anakin cannot forgive. He cannot walk away without settling his score with the Sith Master. Once Palpatine is dead at his feet, he can return to Padme, and they can go away together, free from their obligations to the galaxy.

Padme wraps her arms around his waist, and he can see the desire in her eyes. She’s only holding back from kissing him because of Reva, and given the situation, Anakin can’t say that he would mind any longer. He’s waited for her for long enough and being with her will be a dream come true. It’s all he wants now: a wife, a child, a family he can call his own.

“Come,” Padme says at last, pulling back from him, “You need rest if you will go after Palpatine. You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?”

“I am fine,” Anakin answers instantly, shaking his head. “I do not need rest.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” she counters. “If you go now, you may only support Palpatine’s claims against the Jedi.”

He wavers at that, knowing that she’s right. “Very well,” he concedes, “We can remain here if it is not a bother until this evening.”

“You can’t go,” Reva says softly, sounding scared.

“I must, young one,” he tells her, touching her shoulder. “I am stronger than the Sith. This is my destiny. I am the Chosen One. It is my duty to do this.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she mumbles, miserably, looking down at the floor.

He doesn’t fully want to go, either, but it is what it is, and he has never before shirked away from his duty. “I know.” He guides her towards the guest bedroom in Padme’s apartment. “I won’t leave without telling you, Reva, I promise. You should get some rest though. I – I need to speak with Senator Amidala.”

“Why? Because of the baby?” she asks. Children are so intuitive. They pay way more attention than people ever give them credit.

“Yes,” he agrees dryly, “Because of the baby.” He can tell that she has more questions, but she doesn’t ask, and he waits until she’s lying on the bed before pulling up the blanket and tucking her in. “Try to get some rest, alright? It has been a long night, and you need it.”

“Okay.” Reva’s voice is quiet, but Anakin can still feel her anxiety in the Force, and her eyes follow him as he leaves the room.

Padme is in her bedroom down the hall, and Anakin goes there, flushing when he remembers the last time he was here. It was… a mistake, but he cannot bring himself to regret his unborn child which is now growing inside Padme. It’s been many, many months since it happened, and from what he knows about childbirth, she should be giving birth in a month or so. It’s so… soon.

She is standing in front of the window, staring out at the city, expression subdued and thoughtful, but her face lights up when she sees him, subtle but there, and it makes his heart flip in his chest. “What will we do?” Padme asks, and Anakin is drawn to her like a bug to a flame, pausing to put his bag down on the floor. He stops just short of touching her, because if he starts, he might never stop, and now is not the time.

“I do not know,” he admits.

Padme twitches suddenly, one hand going to the swell of her stomach. “He’s kicking,” she murmurs, sounding a little awed. “You can feel it.”

Anakin reaches out, touching her belly and feeling the movement within. The love he feels in this moment, for the child he has not yet met, is stronger than anything he has ever felt in his life. Is this what it is like to have a child, to love a child? Ahsoka was his, but she was also not, and she was as much a sister to him as a daughter. But this child, this child he will love from birth, and this child he will, hopefully, raise from birth as well.

“He?” he questions, looking at Padme. “It’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” she admits with a quiet laugh, and he can see and feel the love in her as well, both for him and for their child, “But it’s motherly intuition.”

For the first time since the galaxy spiraled into chaos around him, Anakin smiles, really smiles. “Is that so?” he teases. “Well, I think it will be a girl.” The baby kicks against his hand, as if recognizing her absentee father. “With a kick that strong, it’s definitely a girl. She will be a feisty one, I think.”

Padme giggles, and Anakin wants to kiss her so badly that he aches with it.

“What will we name her?” he wants to know. “When will she be born?”

“Probably in a month or so,” Padme answers, one hand still resting on their child, and the other she presses over his. “I thought of names, but I – I had hoped you might be there to choose.”

Anakin thinks for a moment before smiling softly. “Leia. I – we should name her Leia.”

“Does it mean something to you?” She is curious, her curiosity whispering into the Force, and Anakin meets her eyes, nodding.

“There is a… legend on Tatooine,” he tells her haltingly, hesitantly. He has not thought about his past in a long time, though it has been burned into him, forever engraved into his heart and soul. “A long time ago, there was a young woman named Leia. She was beautiful, powerful, courageous, and she wanted freedom. She found freedom for herself, and she led many others to freedom as well. But Leia – she saw how many still remained enslaved, and she knew she could not choke the life out of all the masters, so she gave herself and her light to the stars, to light the pathway to freedom.”

Padme’s hand tightens on his, and he can see a faint shimmer of tears in her eyes when he finishes speaking. “That’s – that’s beautiful, Ani,” she breathes. “Yes, yes, we will name her Leia if the baby is a girl. If it’s a boy, how do you feel about the name Luke? In ancient Nubian, it means light. In mythology, it was the name of Shiraya’s son. Lukyan. She is – she became the moon goddess. It’s a fascinating story, and I’ll tell you the whole thing if you want to hear it.”

“Of course,” Anakin answers, “I want to hear it when we have time.” He reaches up with his gloved hand, stroking her cheek and brushing back her hair. “I have missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she replies, and before he can stop her, she’s kissing him, desperate and demanding. He responds, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer. They have to break apart for air, and Anakin holds her against him, breathing heavily and lowering his head to kiss along her neck.

This, this is so much better than anything with Aayla. There was an attraction between them, but they were just friends. Padme is… everything. She is everything to him, and he loves her so much that he could die from it.

“Wait,” Padme manages to say, even though, in the Force, she feels pleased and desperate for more. “I think – I think we should wait.”

Anakin lifts his head reluctantly even though he wants to continue. He doesn’t want to stop, not now. “Must we?”

She’s visibly conflicted. “I don’t want to stop,” she admits, “But you’re tired, and you need rest, too, if you’re really going to be going after Palpatine this evening.”

His mood plummets at the reminder, and he realizes just how dangerous being around Padme is. He loves her, and she loves him, and maybe that’s part of the problem, because when he touches her, the rest of the world ceases to matter if she’s in his arms. But he is tired; the bone-deep exhaustion which crawled into every inch of him is still there, weighing him down.

Anakin doesn’t resist as Padme pushes him back towards her bed. “Stay?” he asks, griping her waist gently, reaching out reflexively to touch her Force signature and probe out the baby’s. He also checks on Reva, and she’s sleeping, even if not restfully.

“If you keep your hands to yourself,” Padme teases playfully, and he rolls onto his back while she curls up next to him.

“You didn’t want me to keep my hands to myself last time,” he drawls, smirking, and she blushes furiously, swatting his arm, mumbling something under his breath that he can’t hear.

He huffs out an amused breath, closing his eyes and trying to get his mind and body to settle down to find a semblance of rest. But there are too many thoughts crowding in, and when Padme slips an arm around his waist, that’s even more distracting, especially when he remembers… last time they were here.

But with a superhuman effort, he wills those thoughts and feelings aside, letting the knowledge of what transpired last night subdue him. He has a very important mission ahead of him, and he needs to be at his best if he is to succeed.

While Anakin doesn’t fully doze off, he still finds much rest there with Padme at his side.

Hours later, they get up, and Threepio gets food for all three of them – Reva is there, too – but none of them eat much, not given everything which has transpired. And as the sun begins to sink towards the horizon, Anakin knows that the time has come.

“It’s time,” Anakin says distantly, turning away from the window to look at Padme.

Reva is on the couch, having a one-sided conversation with Artoo, and Anakin doesn’t think she hears him. At least, he thought that for all of one second until she looks at him, dark brown eyes filled with emotion. She scrambles off the couch and to his side, throwing her arms around him, her small body trembling. “Don’t go,” she practically begs. “Please don’t go.”

“I will be alright, Reva,” he assures her, trying to pry her off him so he can meet her eyes. She doesn’t let go, and he gives up, wrapping an arm around her as best he can. “I am stronger than he is.” He doesn’t know that for sure, but he does know that the Force is with him, and with the Force as his ally, he will be unbeatable.

“No,” she whines, clinging even tighter, “No, please. Stay.” She reaches for him in the Force, and Anakin lets her, even as he can sense the weak Force bond snapping into place between them. It would be easy to let it die – it’s so weak – but Anakin won’t push this traumatized child away from him, not when she’s so desperate for comfort and support.

Padme steps forwards. “Reva, I promise I’ll keep you safe. Anakin needs to do this, but he’ll be back as soon as it’s all over.”

She shakes her head again, pressing her face more firmly into his chest. “I don’t want to lose you,” she chokes out.

Anakin inhales deeply, feeling that sentiment resonate with the deepest parts of him. “You won’t,” he promises, putting every ounce of conviction that he has into the words. “You won’t, Reva. I will come back for you.” He holds her in a tight embrace, freely offering her comfort as she struggles with her feelings.

And then, only then, does her grip slacken enough for Anakin to step back from her and slip off his cloak, extending it to her as a sort of peace offering. “Keep it,” he says to her. “I will return. Padme will watch over you until I come back.”

Reva accepts it, holding the cloth against her and watching him with scared eyes as he steps back. Padme rushes forwards suddenly, catching him by surprise when she presses a brief, desperate kiss to his lips. “Come back, Ani. We need you.”

“I promise,” he says to all three of them, feeling emotion choke him. “I promise.” He turns, heading towards his speeder, tears momentarily blurring his eyes. Anakin knows how easily he could die when confronting Sidious, because the Sith Master must truly be powerful to have orchestrated all of this, to have manipulated him for so long. But he does not fear death; he only fears leaving his loved ones behind. Despite his best efforts, a few tears escape as he slides into the pilot’s seat and fires up the engines, flying towards the Senate building without looking back.

He has a Sith Master to murder.

Chapter Text

Fear is one emotion which Sidious always detests the most. Fear is useless. Fear only serves to distract. And he very much does not like feeling fear. He is the Sith Master, a Dark Lord of the Sith. He is above such base, mortal emotions.

And so, he is very annoyed to feel traces of fear as he sits in his office. He is the Emperor now, and today should be a day for rejoicing. It still is, of course, but it has not been quite as successful as he had hoped. He had thought to have Skywalker himself kneeling at his feet, but that has not happened, not yet. When his new, temporary apprentice, Inquiere, told him of the boy’s Fall in the Temple, he had felt fear, and he had hated it.

Skywalker is the most powerful of all the Jedi, the most powerful of all Force users, and Sidious has always done his best to cultivate that power by planting seeds of the Dark Side in him. He had known that it was a possibility that the boy would not join him as he planned, so he prepared accordingly, but the facing the prospect of a Skywalker gone rogue, bent on murder and vengeance, driven mad by the Dark Side… it is unnerving.

But Sidious is not stupid, and he already took into account the possibility that his chosen apprentice would Fall before he got to him. And he has prepared accordingly. When the boy comes – for he will undoubtedly come, intent on slaughter and death – Sidious will be waiting for him, and the boy will walk right into the trap Sidious has prepared. If it doesn’t work out, fine. He can dispose of the boy and wait for the… other to come to take his place. He has prepared for everything. Everything.

Anakin Skywalker will come, driven by the needs that Sidious knows so well, and when he does, his one and true and only master will be waiting for him.

***

The flight to the Senate is… well, it goes faster than Anakin had anticipated, his mind whirling with thoughts and feelings as he flies. He struggles to put aside all thoughts of Padme and Reva and his unborn child. He cannot allow his fear for them distract him at this crucial moment. It is imperative that he focus so that Sidious dies. If Palpatine survives this, who knows how much chaos he will inflict upon the galaxy? His reign has endured long enough. It is time to end it.

Even as he thinks that, a part of him wishes he could go back to his family and leave with them, run away into hiding. But that is his emotional side talking, his protective side, his Light side. It is time for him to reach back to the Dark that had swamped him last night, offering him a power that was his for the taking. With that level of power at his disposal, it will be monumentally easier to facedown the Sith Master.

Except the Dark does not come as easily as he thought it might, and he suspects that is because he is instinctively trying to block it off; it is how he has been trained, and he cannot undo that in the span of a day. It doesn’t help that Anakin can’t help but think about all the clones who he will undoubtedly have to kill, and he feels guilt for that, because it is not their fault. They did not choose this. The inhibitor chip is in their heads, and Palpatine is holding their strings. But he cannot avoid killing them while protecting himself and taking out Sidious. These feelings, this mercy… they must be crushed, no matter how loath he is to do so.

So, Anakin forces himself to remember last night, forces himself to remember Appo and the rest of his men who he killed at the Temple. He knew each of them, even if not well, and it hurts to know they’re dead because of him. But Fives. Fives had been one of his closest friends, and he was killed by his own brothers, by Fox. Perhaps – Anakin can understand why it happened, but nothing can undo the grief that he and Rex shared together, trying to cope with Fives’ loss.

And when Anakin reaches for the Dark again, grasping at it with both hands, it comes to him in a rush, humming through his veins, burning him with its fire.

He lands on the platform at the Senate, off to the side, hoping he can get into the Senate without too much ado, but then, Fox himself approaches, raising his blaster when he sees – and recognizes – Anakin. There’s only one choice, and Anakin lashes out, clenching the Force around the clone’s neck and squeezing. Fox struggles in his grip for a few seconds before Anakin snaps the bones, dropping the dead body to the platform.

That, he thinks with no small amount of bitterness, Is for Fives. Fives, who had deserved so much better than being shot down by a brother.

Last night, when he drew on the Dark, his power had been amplified by all the death and despair. It’s not even a full day later, and the stain of darkness from last night is still lingering in the Force, but Anakin doesn’t know if it’ll be enough. He – he might need to… do something to amplify his power. He doesn’t want to think about what that something might be as he pulls his hood over his head and stalks towards the side entrance of the Senate building.

***

It takes until early evening, right after sunset, before Obi-Wan finally thinks to go to Senator Amidala’s apartment to seek out Anakin there. He knows that she and Anakin are friends, distant friends, and while he is aware that Anakin has feelings for her, he also knows that Anakin has been controlling those feelings. He hadn’t thought that Anakin would really go to her apartment to seek refuge, but when he couldn’t find anything elsewhere, he came here.

Senator Amidala greets him right inside her living room, expression visibly strained. “Obi-Wan,” she murmurs, relief washing over her. “Master Yoda.”

He doesn’t miss the young girl on the couch; she’s clearly a Jedi youngling, and she’s clutching black fabric in her hands, the sight of which sends a jolt of… something through Obi-Wan. Is that – is that Anakin’s? Casting out with the Force, he can sense the bright residual traces of his best friend, but Anakin clearly isn’t here. “Senator,” he replies, nodding to her. “I’m looking for Anakin. Do you know where he is?”

The youngling makes a quiet, choked noise, and the Senator looks almost fearful. “He was just here,” she admits. “He left, saying he was going after Palpatine.”

A wave of icy fear gripes him, momentarily taking his breath away. No. Anakin couldn’t possibly do something so stupid and rash on his own, could he? But yes, of course, Anakin would do that. Of course, he would. He’s selfless to a fault, and he, not incorrectly, believes that it’s his destiny to destroy the Sith. He is the Chosen One, after all, but right now, after having lost everything, Obi-Wan cannot lose Anakin, too. He cannot. He cannot handle it. He – the mere thought is so paralyzing that it’s not something he can even imagine.

“He promised he would come back,” the child whispers, huddled on the couch, expression scared, “But he’s going after the Sith…”

“Follow him, we must,” Yoda decides aloud when Obi-Wan is incapable of speech.

“If you go now, you might catch up to him,” the Senator tells them, sinking onto the couch next to the child. Looking at her again, Obi-Wan realizes that she’s the same child Anakin was protecting when he left the Temple in the security recordings. At least one of the children survived, even if the rest of them did not.

He also doesn’t overlook the Senator’s rather obvious pregnancy. Anakin? Most likely. When this is all over, he can chew Anakin out then for doing something so rash. But now, now, he has to follow his once Padawan before he gets himself killed.

Or worse.

***

Reva huddles on the couch after Masters Yoda and Kenobi leave for the Senate. She’s glad that Master Skywalker will at least have backup, but even that knowledge isn’t enough to overcome her fear. She’s terrified and angry and hurt, and she wishes that this was a nightmare she could awaken from. No matter how scary Master Skywalker might feel – and look – when he’s so furious and dark like he was last night, he still makes her feel safe.

To others, he might seem like a merciless soldier who will readily kill anyone and everyone, but to her, he’s shown a softer, gentler, more compassionate side. When he’s there, it feels like he can stop everything bad from happening, and now that he’s gone, Reva realizes exactly how alone she is.

The Force feels empty and dark and wrong, and she doesn’t like it.

She clutches the robe closer to her, as if it can somehow offer even a fraction of the protection that Master Skywalker does.

“It will be alright,” the Senator whispers to her, touching her shoulder. “Anakin won’t be alone. He’ll have help, and if anyone can stop Palpatine, it will be the three of them.”

Reva only wishes that she could believe that. She’s lost too much recently to accept that it will be that easy.

***

Anakin’s robes are even more singed and bloodied when he finally reaches the outside of the Chancellor’s – Emperor’s – office. The Dark Side is singing through him, growing increasingly stronger as he approaches Sidious, who is making no effort to shield his darkness anymore. The Force feels of death now, but Anakin doesn’t have the mental capacity to regret it. They got in his way. They tried to stop him from going after the Emperor. They brought their deaths upon themselves.

Aside from the newly crowned Emperor, Anakin can feel two of his Red Guards inside the office, so he reaches out with the Force, lifting them both in a Force choke, breaking their necks and dropping them as the door slides open to reveal Palpatine. Seeing him momentarily throws Anakin off-balance, because he looks exactly the same way he did the last time Anakin saw him. It’s… off-putting to realize how similar he is, how little he’s changed, but it also serves to drive in the point that he’s always been Sidious, always been working towards this point.

He might have gotten this far, but Anakin will not allow him to get any further.

“Darth Sidious,” he drawls, stepping into the office, lightsabers clenched in his hands. He spins them, pointing the two blades at the Sith Master, “Your reign is at an end.”

He is expecting it when Palpatine rises to his feet, lightning arcing from his fingertips towards him, expression hard. “It did not need to come to this, my boy,” he says.

Anakin scoffs, blocking the lightning by crossing the two lightsabers in front of him, deflecting it aside, before throwing a powerful Force shove at the Sith. Sidious is hurled backwards, colliding hard into the wall behind him. He falls to one knee, before rising back to his feet, anger palpable.

“Recognize this?” Anakin taunts, twirling the red lightsaber in his left hand, its grip familiar to him. “You should. I am not here merely for myself. I am here on behalf of all of your victims.”

“You kept it,” Palpatine states flatly, nothing but ice in his yellow eyes.

“It makes me stronger,” he smirks as he stalks towards the Sith Master. “It calls to me, to my darkness, and I will never be a puppet of yours like Dooku was.”

The Force twinges a warning, as suddenly, Sidious Force jumps across the room, making a break for the hallway, and Anakin can’t help but feel a lazy amusement. How powerful is Sidious, truly, if he’s already running?

***

Days earlier

Anakin rolls over on his bed, finally sitting up, and scrubbing his face, unable to find any rest for reasons that evade him. Maybe part of it is that he can acutely feel the dark, mournful song of an unfamiliar kyber crystal. It’s keeping him on edge and reminding him incessantly of what he did. Slowly, he reaches under his bed, pulling the lightsaber hilt hidden underneath. Its grip is… different in his hands. It isn’t his, and it never will be, but holding it, it almost feels like it could be, as if there’s something he’s meant to do with it.

It feels like Dooku, and if he closes his eyes, he can remember every last second leading up the Count’s… execution. Because that is what it was. There is nothing else which could properly define what Anakin did. It was execution, plain and simple. It was wrong, and he can’t hide from the guilt he feels over his actions.

He ignites the lightsaber for the second time since he’s gotten it, staring into the brilliant redness of it, and wondering what might have happened if he had chosen not to follow orders like he did.

Anakin stands, swinging the lightsaber experimentally to test out the balance of it, seeing how differently it responds to him when compared with his own, and even Obi-Wan’s. It’s different, of course, but it’s not too hard for him to adjust to, and he can see how it could suit someone who specializes in Makashi.

Form II has never been Anakin’s strongest point, but he knows the basics, at least; he studied them intently after Geonosis, trying to strengthen and improve his own abilities so that Dooku could never harm him again the way he did then.

Inhaling slowly, Anakin shifts into the opening stance of Makashi, bringing Dooku’s lightsaber up, and working through the stances. He has to be careful not to damage anything in his room, because he has to do this here, since it’s not as if he can go parading this lightsaber in public. He goes through the katas once, slowly, before beginning again, this time moving faster, accustoming himself to the balance of the blade, the shape of the hilt, the way the kyber crystal responds to him.

Somehow, this exercise is soothing, and when Anakin decides to stop, he feels exhausted in a way that might actually allow him to find rest. As he cradles the hilt in his hands, he feels a sharp pang of guilt, one that feels more real than before. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as if that could ever be enough to make amends. “It was wrong. I should not have listened. I should not have done it.” It does little, and it’s not as if Dooku could ever hear it, but for some reason, the kyber crystal’s song seems a little brighter as though it’s saying, ‘I forgive you.’

And Anakin decides to keep on training and practicing with Dooku’s lightsaber. He doesn’t know why he feels almost driven to make amends, since he cannot change the past, and Dooku does not deserve it, anyway, after what he did. Perhaps, he is merely doing this for himself.

***

Palpatine only makes it a couple steps into the hallway before Anakin lunges towards him. The Sith twists around, whipping a lightsaber out of his sleeve, of all places, and swinging to block Anakin’s first blow. They take a moment to size each other up before Anakin springs forwards again. No matter how much it will hurt, Anakin must kill Palpatine. He has no choice. The Dark Side is with him, the Force is with him, and Sidious’ own power is only boosting Anakin’s.

Blue and red meet red as their duel begins in earnest. It’s obvious from the beginning that the Sith Master is afraid. He keeps giving way, retreating from Anakin’s swinging blades. Which is not to say that he’s not good, because he is. He is a good duelist, but he isn’t the best duelist. Anakin has seen better, and he doesn’t think it’s boasting to say that he himself is better.

Their fight is vicious, brutal, and Anakin has long since hidden any regard he had for the once-Chancellor. He will not allow any misplaced affections to stop him. Palpatine doesn’t speak, doesn’t even try to, as Anakin hammers at his defenses, throwing every bit of the vicious brutality he possesses into the duel, the Dark Side aiding him, giving him strength and power, aiding him where he’s lacking or flagging.

He pushes Palpatine backwards down the hallway, and given how narrow it is, especially with Anakin having two lightsabers, the Sith has no choice, but to backpedal, covering himself with a flurry of swift counterstrikes. He is good, but Anakin is better.

Anakin crashes his blue blade against Sidious’, trying to penetrate his defenses with his red one, with the lightsaber that once belonged to Dooku. The Sith flips backwards, backing through another doorway, and nearly tripping on the dead body sprawled on the other side. Anakin uses that to his advantage, swinging at Palpatine’s unprotected side. He rolls under the strike, reversing their positions and leading them back towards the office from which they just exited.

As Anakin lunges for him again, Palpatine tries to electrocute him, but Anakin bats it aside, Force shoving the Emperor backwards again, knocking him into the wall. He doesn’t lose his balance, unfortunately, but it does allow him to duck back into his office where he has more maneuverability.

Unfortunate, because the closed space of the hall had been working to Anakin’s advantage.

Their duel continues, Sidious flipping and jumping, constantly moving around, which Anakin suspects is meant to tire him out so that he starts flagging and making mistakes. How unfortunate for the Sith that his power is Anakin’s power, that his darkness is becoming Anakin’s. He is only feeding Anakin as his fury and hatred mount.

“You could have had everything, and you threw it all away,” Palpatine rages in between blocking the strikes Anakin is raining on him. “For what? An Order that never cared for you? That mistreated you? That is gone?”

“I,” Anakin snarls back, “Stand on the side of life and freedom. You are death and slavery, everything to which I have devoted myself to destroying.”

The duel pauses for a moment as they glare at each other. Finally, the Sith’s yellow eyes narrow. “So be it.” And then, he springs forwards with a cry that jars Anakin’s brain but doesn’t make him falter when he is one with the Force.

Chapter Text

The duel is long and arduous, and a part of Anakin is mildly surprised at his ability to stand against the Sith Master for so long. But he is still standing, and Sidious is tiring. The room currently around them, Palpatine's office, is completely trashed. Somehow, they ended up back in here again, even though one of them accidentally activated the controls for Palpatine's Senate pod, taking them both into the massive chamber where they fought furiously. Sidious even resorted to using lightning again, though he failed when Anakin's two lightsabers were more than sufficient at blocking it.

They used the Force, as well, throwing each other and Senate pods around.

Anakin can't feel too bad about the massive amount of property damage there, but he is a little impressed at Sidious' resilience and how he's so good at keeping his lightsaber in his hands. It makes sense, he supposes, since if he gets disarmed, it will all be over.

But now, they're back in the office again, or what once was the office, still fighting, albeit not with the same vigor as at the beginning. He lands a solid kick on Palpatine's leg, and he stumbles backwards. Anakin swings his lightsabers, taking advantage of the slipup, and sends Sidious' hilt skittering from his hands and somewhere across the room. Instantly, he drops his own lightsaber, keeping Dooku's just to be safe, and lashes out with the Force, pushing past Palpatine's shields and wrapping the Force around the Sith Master's neck, choking him.

He takes a step closer, and for a moment, he sees a reflection of his own face. His eyes… his eyes are glowing crimson, and he really does not think it's merely a trick of the lighting given he's holding a red lightsaber. But he doesn't care to ponder it, slowly and deliberately stepping towards the struggling Sith. Killing him like this, by strangling him with the Force, it's too merciful. The Dark Side demands more, more violence, more bloodshed, and Anakin is more than happy to feed it.

Reaching out, Anakin pins Palpatine's body against the wall with the Force before wrapping his prosthetic hand around the Sith Master's neck, crushing it. He wants to watch as the life drains from Sidious' eyes. He wants to feel it as his struggles weaken, as his body goes limp. This is the power of the Dark Side, the power to kill and destroy, and just this once, Anakin is perfectly content with what he's about to do.

***

Obi-Wan is vibrating with tension and anxiety when they arrive at the Senate building. The Dark Side is rolling in the air, probably because of Sidious, but he fears that some of it may also be because of Anakin. The atmosphere is… staticky somehow, as if there is something dark and dangerous looming on the horizon, and with a jolt, Obi-Wan realizes what it is. Anakin is in danger. Grave danger.

They need to hurry.

Neither of them speaks as they enter the Senate building itself, sneaking into a side entrance. Strangely enough, they aren't stopped, and the reason for that soon becomes clear. The inside is in chaos, disarray. Anakin didn't – he didn't go straight for Palpatine, did he. There are bodies strewn about in the halls, primarily Senate Guards, and there's blaster fire scoring the hallways. It's a slaughter.

Force, Anakin has completely lost control, hasn't he.

He's so focused on killing Palpatine that he didn't think about all of the other casualties. But to be fair, it's not as if Obi-Wan really cares either. He only cares that Anakin did this, that his once Padawan was pushed to this level, that he Fell to this point. Anakin was never like this; he never killed so indiscriminately, and it horrifies him to see the raw darkness which Anakin is now wielding.

Yoda's ears twitch in an obvious sign of disapproval and concern, and they follow the trail of bodies all the way to the Chancellor's office, or what's left of it anyway.

The destruction here is massive, and it's obvious that there was a major, grueling lightsaber duel which occurred in these halls.

"Quickly we must move," Yoda urges. "In peril Skywalker is."

As if to punctuate those words, an unfamiliar lightsaber rolls through the doorway of the once-Chancellor's office, coming to a stop near their feet. It must be Sidious', and indeed, when Obi-Wan reaches out with the Force, he can feel the way the Dark has permeated everything, the way the Force is crying out as something very, very bad is about to happen. All he can feel is fear, rage, and a lust for vengeance.

He darts forwards, skidding through the doorway, his heart in his throat, expecting to see Anakin injured or worse. He does not see that. Instead, he sees Anakin holding Palpatine pinned against the wall, his prosthetic hand wrapped around the Sith's throat, while in his other hand is a red lightsaber. The Sith Master is struggling, but his power is no match for Anakin's. And Anakin –

Obi-Wan can hardly breathe when he feels the raw darkness radiating from his best friend's figure. Anakin is so deep in the Dark that he feels – he feels like –

He has eyes for only Anakin, despite whatever damage and destruction lie around them. Outwardly, Anakin does not appear to be injured, but his eyes… they're red. Glowing crimson. It reminds him of – of the Son on Mortis, of how the Dark Side embodiment was a thing of darkness and death, of how his eyes glinted an unnatural red. And that is what Anakin now looks like. That is what Anakin now resembles.

And Obi-Wan would be lying if he said it didn't terrify him.

This is – Anakin is his best friend, the one person he cares for more deeply than he has any right to, and seeing him like this, Fallen so far beyond what a Jedi is supposed to be, fills him with a bone-chilling terror and dread of what is to come.

***

Anakin had not expected Jedi to come here, much less Obi-Wan and Yoda, of all people, but he has very mixed feelings about their arrival. On one hand, he's relieved beyond words to know that Obi-Wan is alright, that he is still alive, but on the other hand, he knows that what he has done, what he is doing is against everything he's been taught. He tapped into the Dark Side, even if it was to save people, and he's acting out of anger and vengeance. It's not the Jedi way. It's not the way Obi-Wan taught him, and more than anything, Anakin has always striven to please his master. He has always sought to make him proud, to show him that he's good enough.

For a second, just one second, all of them stand there, and Anakin catches a wordless exchange between Obi-Wan and Yoda before the former steps forward. His expression is mostly neutral, but Anakin knows that he will sense a storm of emotion if he reaches out and probes. He doesn't do that, though, because he respects his master too much, and he fears what he might find.

"Anakin, you must stop!" Obi-Wan calls, keeping a distance away, expression pinched. "Let him go! You can't kill him like that. It will destroy you."

No, it won't. Obi-Wan doesn't understand. This was a hard-won battle, and Anakin deserves, at the very least, to see the life drain from Palpatine's eyes as he dies. He wants it, needs it.

"Anakin, please. You must listen to me!" Obi-Wan tries again, but Anakin is past listening to others. All he can see is Palpatine struggling in his grip. All he can feel is the grim satisfaction at watching the Sith Master die in his hand.

The Force twinges on the edge of his consciousness, and he senses the approach of other presences. Too fast. Too quickly.

It all happens so fast.

Anakin senses Yoda reaching out with the Force, as if he's planning to stop him from killing Sidious. But then, the familiar figure of Inquiere steps into the room, followed by several dozen clones from the Coruscant Guard.

"Drop him, Skywalker!" Inquiere screams, igniting his double-bladed golden lightsaber. It's so wrong to see it in his hands, the lightsaber of the Temple Guard, knowing that this is the man who helped destroy the Jedi Order.

And then, the new Sith hurls it across the room towards Anakin, towards his arm. Instinctively, Anakin moves to block it with Dooku's, batting it aside so it doesn't injure him. The clones open fire the same moment, and Obi-Wan and Yoda instantly move to block them, but one of the blaster bolts slips past, and Anakin can't stop it and the lightsaber at once. He prioritizes, deflecting the lightsaber aside and sending it skittering to the floor before Inquiere calls it back to him. The blaster bolt strikes his prosthetic, making the mechanics go haywire. Pain spears up his arm, and his hand spasms, unclenching automatically.

Worse, his Force grip on Palpatine slackens, allowing the Sith Master to shove him back and away. His rage flares further, and he spins towards the Sith apprentice, wrapping the Force around his neck, strangling him. His careful control over the Dark Side is slipping as it crawls further into his mind, confusing him, making him more irrational, more prone to acting on raw emotion with no heed to the consequences.

The Force screams as Sidious raises his hands, and Anakin has only one second to realize that he made a huge error in judgment before lightning arcs into his body, sending him crashing backwards to the floor. It's worse than anything he's ever felt before, stronger, more painful, and it's all he can do not to cry out, as his body writhes on the ground, overwhelmed by a terrible pain. Distantly, Anakin recognizes that he can't handle more than a minute of this without dying.

And then, it lets up.

"Grab him," Sidious commands, voice raspy from being strangled.

The world is blurring around the edges, and Anakin can't even think about moving as he sees Inquiere coming towards him only for a blue lightsaber to block his path. Obi-Wan. Anakin can feel him in the Force, can feel his protective rage, and it calms him somehow, soothes him, because if Obi-Wan is here, everything will be alright. They'll figure this out. They'll do the impossible.

Blue and gold lightsabers clash together, and suddenly, Yoda is standing in front of Anakin, a tiny whirlwind as he deflects the blaster bolts coming towards Anakin's prone, immobile form. No matter the danger, Anakin does not have the ability to move just yet. He needs to. He needs to push past this and get up, but he can't. He's still gasping for breath and blinking away tears of agony, as spasms run through him clenching his muscles painfully.

More and more clones are coming into the room, replacing those who have fallen to deflected blaster bolts and lightsabers. Anakin doesn't see Sidious anywhere, so the Sith Master must have taken the opportunity to retreat – not that Anakin could blame him for that, because he's laughably outmatched now, especially with Yoda and Obi-Wan here. It is frustrating, though, since it means that they'll have to retreat as well. There's no way that they can get past all of this resistance and defeat Palpatine at once.

No matter how much Anakin hates it, they need to leave.

The lightning shook him out of his revenge-induced haze, and he can admit that he was acting rashly. He doesn't regret wanting to kill Palpatine like that, but he recognizes that a fast death would have been preferable, because at least he'd be dead.

For a couple minutes, Anakin focuses on breathing, before shakily pushing himself back to his feet, swaying unsteadily and calling on the Force, the Dark and the Light both to give him the strength that he needs. He uses the Force to keep his body upright, to push past the bone-deep pain, past the burn scars that are undoubtedly littering his skin now. And then, he summons both lightsabers back to him, clipping Dooku's to his belt, and joining Yoda in – slightly clumsily – deflecting blaster bolts with his left hand, as his prosthetic hangs at his side, still sparking and aching, sending pain shooting up his arm.

But no matter how focused Anakin is on killing the clones who are still steadily moving in on them, though it's easy to keep them at bay and push them back with Yoda helping, he keeps a part of his attention on Obi-Wan, as always. He sees the graceful, fast-paced duel between Obi-Wan and Inquire, sees the way that the new Sith apprentice uses Makashi against Obi-Wan to counter his Soresu. Inquiere is no Dooku, but he is good, which makes sense if he is the one who killed the rest of the Temple Guard, not to mention countless other Jedi at the Temple.

Keeping track of Obi-Wan during the fight is second nature to him, and he senses it when Inquiere scores a glancing blow on Obi-Wan's left arm. The Jedi Master falters for a moment, and it's long enough for a nearby clone to nearly hit him with a blaster bolt. It only skims him, but he still stumbles back a step with a pained intake of breath before raising his lightsaber to go at Inquiere again.

Anakin's anger mounts, and he spins away from Yoda, lunging towards Inquiere. This man is responsible for aiding in the decimation of the Jedi Order. He killed children, tried to kill Reva. And he hurt Obi-Wan. All of those are equally unforgivable.

The Dark Side in the room is intoxicating, and Anakin can feel it rolling under his skin, filling him with a power that demands an outlet. They need to get out of here, and fast, before they're completely overwhelmed. But together, with the two of them, it's easy to push Inquiere onto the defensive and out of the destroyed office that was once the Chancellor's. The clones don't dare shoot at them while Inquiere could be hit, so that gives them more maneuverability so long as they don't stay still.

But they need to get out.

Anakin trusts Yoda can escape on his own; the Grandmaster is small but powerful, and he can more than hold his own against the clones. He's taken out entire battalions of droids on his own during the war, so he can do this as well.

Even if Anakin has Fallen now, it's still easy for him and Obi-Wan to communicate with mere glances, and they both agree on the obvious conclusion. They need to run. Somehow.

Perhaps it is merely the increase of death which causes an influx of the Dark Side, perhaps it's the fact that Obi-Wan is injured, that he is injured, Anakin doesn't know. All he knows is that he's so angry, that he wants their opponents dead, or at least disabled, so they can be safe. The Force is flickering in his grasp, feeling violent, uncontrollable even. Raw power is coursing to his fingertips, and when he makes to shove Inquiere backwards into the group of clones standing near the doorway… well, it works.

Inquiere flies backwards, but what is unexpected is the burst of lightning that arcs from his fingers, red and blinding, flying chaotically around the room, fueled by the Dark Side itself. He has not seen red lightning since – well, for a long time. He didn't even know it was a real thing.

The clones and Sith apprentice lie scattered on the floor, stunned and smoking, and Anakin didn't miss how Yoda had to deflect a stray spark with his lightsaber before cutting a hole in the floor and dropping through, neatly escaping the electric chaos.

Obi-Wan is looking at him, seeming annoyed by the lightning storm that Anakin accidentally whipped up, but he's still panicking too much that he just did that to pay it any mind. "Come on," he says instead, whirling towards the exit and running.

He doesn't need to look back to know that Obi-Wan is following him. Yoda must be planning to find his own way out. Escaping from the Senate building is not even half as easy as getting in was, because they need to take a different route since there are clones and other guards collecting the dead bodies. They make it out a side entrance, and Anakin leads Obi-Wan to the speeder he used when he came here.

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan asks once Anakin flies away from the Senate building, mingling with the passing traffic and focusing solely on getting them as far away from the scene as possible. First, he needs to lose their pursuers before he can return to Padme's apartment, so they can plan their next course of action.

Somehow, he doubts that Padme will be terribly willing to run away with him, no matter how much he wants that. Besides, there's the additional problem of Palpatine's survival. It's obvious to him that the Sith Master wants him as an apprentice, and he'll be hunting for him. That will pose a problem.

"500 Republica," Anakin answers, tone clipped. "We must evade our pursuers first, so brace yourself, Master."

Obi-Wan pales. "Nothing too fancy," he warns immediately.

In another situation, Anakin would probably smirk and make a snarky comment about Obi-Wan's obviously sensitive stomach. Now, all he does is nod, his mind focused solely on escaping. I'm glad you're alright, he wants to say, but he doesn't know how to say it. Obi-Wan's presence is soothing, a balm on a wound he didn't know he had. Other than his mother, there is no one in Anakin's life who is as important to him as Obi-Wan, no matter how… complicated their relationship may be.

" You're the closest thing I have to a father."

They are a team, the team, and Anakin cannot imagine being without Obi-Wan. Maybe that's why he's doing his best to not think about what will happen next once they get to safety so they can plan their next moves. There are too many people he needs to protect, and he can't watch over all of them, not when he has such a big target on his back.

And Anakin has no doubt that Obi-Wan will want to speak to him about everything – something he is absolutely not looking forward to, because more than anything, he doesn't want to disappoint Obi-Wan – but he doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about it, not when he has to focus on flying single-handedly to get them to safety.

Chapter Text

“Are you alright?” Anakin asks sheepishly from behind Obi-Wan. He groans in response, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe, his stomach still flipping over and over inside him. He feels like throwing up again, but he hasn’t eaten – or drunk – anything recently, so he doubts that will be happening.

“I’ll be fine,” he grouses. “Thank you so much for heeding my warning to slow down. It was much appreciated.” His words are dripping with barely concealed sarcasm, and he can almost feel Anakin wincing behind him.

“Sorry,” the younger man mutters. His footsteps move away from the alley for a moment before they return, and by that time, Obi-Wan is standing straight again, no longer leaning over the garbage disposal unit at the end of the alley somewhere in the Underworld. “I think we may be safe now,” Anakin reports. “The clones will undoubtedly be searching the crash site to locate any traces of us. If we can commandeer another speeder, we can get to 500 Republica safely.”

Obi-Wan inhales deeply a few times, willing his stomach to settle. “Carry on then.”

Obtaining a speeder is easier than he had thought it might be, and it’s not long before he is flying them towards their destination. First of all, he does not trust Anakin to fly after the fiasco earlier, and second of all, Anakin only has one hand to fly with, making it a rather dangerous endeavor. As Obi-Wan flies, he turns his thoughts towards everything which has transpired earlier. He needs to talk to Anakin about it, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“You embraced the Dark Side,” he finally settles on, looking forwards and not at Anakin. He’s careful to keep his tone neutral because he doesn’t know how Anakin will react to it, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it, either.

“What choice did I have?” Anakin snaps, instantly bristling, and Obi-Wan belatedly realizes that he probably worded it wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the way Anakin’s jaw clenches, the tightness in his posture, as he glares forwards. “We were being overrun at the Temple. There was nothing else I could have done. Would you have had me die, then, Master?”

“No,” he bites back, a little more harshly than he intended. “No, Anakin, that is not what I am saying.”

There’s a pause. “What are you saying, then?”

He feels tired all of a sudden, as if having to talk to Anakin has sucked the energy right out of him. “I don’t know. I – you have Fallen. It is against everything that the Jedi teach, but you… saved people. I suppose it is a little surprising to see.” Obi-Wan reaches out, probing him lightly through the Force. He can feel Anakin, as always, even though Anakin’s shielding is heavy. “You have not changed much.”

And it’s true. Anakin still feels more or less like he did before. His Light is still there, still burning, but there’s a distinct undertone of Dark in him that was not there before. But, strangely enough, he feels… balanced. It is so strange, that it confuses Obi-Wan, given that it’s against everything he has thought, everything he has been taught.

I worry for you, he wants to say. You scared me in the Senate building, when you let your lust for vengeance consume you. He doesn’t know how to say that, though, how to convey his feelings for Anakin in a way that will be real, in a way that that younger man can understand. “Back in the Senate,” he finally settles on, “You were walking a dangerous path.”

“I do not need to hear your criticism, Master,” Anakin growls. “I know what I did there. I know it was foolish, and that it enabled Palpatine’s escape. I know it was not the Jedi way.”

“That is not what I meant,” Obi-Wan replies, feeling frustrated. It’s as if they aren’t even speaking about the same thing. “At least try to remain silent while I’m speaking. This would not be half as hard if you listened.”

“I do. I do listen to you. I feel like all I ever do is listen to you.”

His temper flares, but he tries to squash it, tries to explain to Anakin what he feared so much back in the Senate. “What I mean to say,” he tries, ignoring Anakin’s outburst, “Is that, back at the Senate, you lost your rationality. Anakin, had you killed Palpatine in that manner, you would not have been able to let go of the Dark as you have now.”

The younger man, blessedly, is quiet this time, mulling over Obi-Wan’s words. His expression remains blank despite the brief flicker of anxiety that Obi-Wan feels roll through him. “Why? Killing him would have been justice.”

“Yes,” he allows, “But that is not why you were doing it. I felt your vengeance. It was consuming you. You would not have been able to come back so easily after a cold-blooded murder, committed solely out of a desire to see it. You were so close, Anakin, to being lost, and I shudder to think what that would have meant for you, for the galaxy. You must be careful. You are playing with fire when you don’t know what you’re doing. There is a reason that the Jedi caution against using the Dark.”

Anakin slumps back in his seat, seeming suitably castigated. “Are you sure?” His voice is quiet, subdued, and he’s staring into his lap.

Obi-Wan feels the instinctive urge to reach out to him, to touch his shoulder in comfort, to tell him how grateful he is that Anakin’s still alive despite how many have died. But he quells those feelings because even if the Jedi Order has fallen, he is still a Jedi, though Anakin is not. “Master Yoda was… concerned.” He chooses his words carefully. “I have never seen him so disturbed before. He would have stopped you had the others not arrived.”

Anakin merely nods, and it’s a few minutes before he actually speaks again. “It – I have betrayed what you taught me, Master. You would be right to be angry at me. But the Dark Side gave me strength when I needed it. It has helped me save so many from dying.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan replies. “I know. I saw what you did at the Temple, and I am not… pleased with the methods, but I approve of the result. What you did… it was something that the Jedi have taught to be impossible. I suppose I am proud that you have, at least, managed to mostly resist the lure of the Dark, but you must be careful of where this path takes you.”

A deep flicker of anger answers those words. “You do not trust me to find control.”

What is he supposed to say to that? It’s not true. Not exactly. Obi-Wan trusts that Anakin will try to do good, but the boy has already shown how easily his emotions can get the better of him. And maybe it’s just that Obi-Wan fears. He fears something happening to Anakin. He fears losing him. And those are not feelings that he should have, not as a Jedi, but he has always been weak when it comes to Anakin. He has no idea how to let go of that fear, of that need to protect Anakin from the galaxy, no matter how much he has already failed to do so.

“I worry for you,” he offers. “These are difficult times for all of us. You did what you had to do to survive, to help others survive, and I would never fault you for that.” I was so scared, he wants to say, I was terrified that I would come back and find you dead, and I knew that I could never handle that. I would not have survived that knowledge, knowing that you had died, and that I was helpless to do anything for you. I could not say how little I care what you did at the Temple, because you are alive, and that is the only thing that matters to me right now.

Anakin’s expression twists, equal parts frustration and anger. “I can take care of myself, Obi-Wan. I do not need you to – to act as though I am incapable.”

“I know that you can,” Obi-Wan snaps, his temper finally snapping. “I know that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but you have no idea what your limits are. You push yourself so far, all the time, and it is left to me to come after you, to stop you from dying.” Or worse, he almost adds, thinking of the Chancellor’s office and how Anakin was there, how his eyes were burning with red as he strangled the man who he once considered a close friend, the man who he seems to trust more than Obi-Wan.

“I do not wish to hear it,” Anakin growls. “Not right now, Master.”

“You never wish to hear it,” Obi-Wan snips, still thinking of Anakin, of how terrifying he looked with crimson eyes, face illuminated by a red glow from the lightsaber that was not his. “You had Dooku’s lightsaber,” he remembers. “I was unaware that you had it.”

“I never told anyone,” Anakin answers, rubbing his face with his good hand.

He looks so tired now, not that he ever really stopped, but it’s especially bad now. He looks as if he couldn’t even stand on his own if they weren’t in the speeder. Perhaps, Obi-Wan thinks wildly, despairingly, even a strong wind could knock him over right now. He looks… fragile in a way that makes all of Obi-Wan’s protective instincts spring to life. But Anakin hates it when he hovers, when he worries, and he doesn’t know what to do about that, because he cannot deny how he feels, cannot deny the bone-deep terror that one day, his stupid, beloved former Padawan will get himself killed and Obi-Wan will have to pick up the pieces.

It is maddening, and he does not have even the slightest idea how to deal with it.

“Why?” he queries curiously.

For a moment, Obi-Wan thinks Anakin will get angry again, but he simply shrugs one shoulder, looking away. “It was… wrong. I never told you what happened, Master, because I knew you would be disappointed.” It is so strange how he has gone from being angry to being quiet, and almost depressed, like this. Anakin’s mood swings will never cease to befuddle him.

He waits silently for Anakin to continue, and he does not disappoint. “I defeated him,” Anakin admits, “Disarmed him, and Palpatine ordered me to kill him, to… behead him. I did not wish to, I told him it was wrong, but he insisted. And it was an order. How could I refuse the Chancellor? I complied, but it was… wrong. It was wrong, and I – I felt guilt for it, for what I did. I took the lightsaber with me. I kept it hidden. I – I practiced with it; I cannot explain why. Does that satisfy you? Or do you have a new lecture for me now?”

Obi-Wan grits his teeth and only doesn’t rise to the bait because Anakin looks so tired, and Obi-Wan, more than anything, is inclined to tuck him to bed. He would cart him off to the Halls of Healing if that was at all possible. “I am glad that you told me,” he says, feeling a little awkward, a little off-balance at what Anakin just told him. It makes so much sense, now, that Palpatine would have had Anakin do that. He wanted Anakin as his apprentice, so it stands to reason that he would want Anakin to be the one to execute Dooku, especially like that.

And Obi-Wan still has no idea whatsoever how he ought to feel about Sidious trying to turn Anakin, trying to take him. It fills him with anger, makes him vibrate with the need to kill to protect Anakin from that monster. He will not, cannot, allow Sidious to get his hands on Anakin. Anakin is his, and his alone.

He catches that thought, and cuts it off there, refusing to indulge in it any longer. It is not the Jedi way to be so possessive of someone, but Obi-Wan is weak and exhausted, and all he wants is his best friend. (Anakin is so much more than just a best friend to him, but that is not something he can allow himself to think about. He cannot think about how much he thinks the way he views Anakin is the way a father views his son. It is wrong. It is not the Jedi way, no matter how right it feels to love Anakin this way.)

“You and Senator Amidala?” Obi-Wan inquires, raising an eyebrow, keeping his tone light-hearted. “I thought that you were with Aayla.”

Anakin grimaces at her name, a quiet sorrow echoing into the Force for a moment, and truly, Obi-Wan can understand the reason. For all they know, Aayla could be dead now. “Aayla and I had an… understanding,” he replies, maybe a little too nonchalantly. “We ended it before the Outer Rim Sieges began, since we had no idea when we would see each other again. But it is different with Padme. I – we… want to marry,” he admits in a rush, “We talked about it, but we wanted to wait until after the war. I do not know what will happen any longer.”

“Clearly,” Obi-Wan points out with probably far too much cheer, “You did not wait very well. I was there, to see her, to find you, and I could not help but notice that she is very pregnant.”

Anakin flushes, and even in the darkness of the speeder, Obi-Wan can see the redness of his face. “It was… not intended,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to look at Obi-Wan. “It was… difficult after – after Ahsoka left. We spent some time together, and um… yes. That. … Happened.” He sounds a little strangled at the end, and truthfully, Obi-Wan does not want to hear any more about it at all. It was bad enough how he found out about Anakin and Aayla. He had been unable to look the Twi’lek Jedi Master in the eyes for weeks.

“This is not a good time for a child,” Obi-Wan points out. “What will you do?”

“I… do not know.” Anakin sounds so young, and Obi-Wan is reminded again of how, he is still so young. He is only twenty-three, just barely, and when Obi-Wan was his age, he was still a Padawan. It does not seem right that Anakin should be forced to bear such a burden when Obi-Wan himself was spared. He would do anything, anything at all, to help Anakin, to relieve him of the burden he’s carrying. And now, on top of all of this, he has a child on the way. He’s going to be a father soon. It hardly seems real.

“We will figure it out,” Obi-Wan promises, wanting to reach out again, but stopping himself.

Anakin nods, sighing quietly, fingers drumming on his leg, a nervous gesture. They don’t speak much on the rest of the way back to the apartment, each of them lost in their own thoughts of the future… and the past as well.

So much has changed in such a short amount of time, and Obi-Wan, truthfully, has no idea where they will go from here.

***

Anakin is so worn out that Obi-Wan, embarrassingly, has to help him back into Padme’s apartment when they arrive. Padme and Reva are both still awake, sitting on the couch, even though it’s the middle of the night. The former gasps when she sees them, and in an instant, she’s hurrying over. “Are you alright?” Padme asks, worried. “What happened?”

“I failed,” Anakin answers, swaying unsteadily, only Obi-Wan’s arm around his waist keeping him from collapsing entirely. “It is a long story, but I need to… sit down for a bit. We were injured. We will need a medpack.”

“And some bacta if you have any, Senator,” Obi-Wan adds.

Yes. Right. Lightning burns need bacta to heal properly.

Anakin has dealt with electrocution enough times to know how to deal with it. The most important thing is to get bacta on and then, stay as warm as possible until his body can get over the shock, no pun intended.

“Yes, of course,” Padme replies, turning to give Threepio orders. Anakin will need to talk to her once he and Obi-Wan have dealt with their injuries. He has not forgotten that Obi-Wan’s left arm was burned by Inquiere’s lightsaber and a blaster bolt.

“I told you I would return,” Anakin manages to say, mustering a small smile for Reva.

She looks at him quietly, assessing him, no doubt, before coming over to him and throwing her arms around him. She doesn’t say anything, though Anakin can feel the whirlwind of emotions within her. He touches her head as gently as he can with his bad arm, ignoring the spikes of pain still radiating up it; he’s had worse.

“Soon, we will have to decide what to do next,” he tells her. “We need to leave Coruscant.”

“Where will we go?” she questions, finally stepping back. His outer robe is lying on the couch, next to where she was sitting, and Anakin lifts it with the Force before settling it gently around her, no matter how ridiculous it looks.

“That is something we must determine. Wait here. We will return shortly.”

He levitates his meager bag of possessions to him, knowing that he’ll need the replacement prosthetic as well as his spare set of robes. Once Threepio brings them the medpack and bacta, Anakin directs Obi-Wan to the spare bedroom, the one which Reva was using earlier, so they can have some privacy to get cleaned up. This is hardly the first time they’ve done this, and knowing how soon they may be parting ways, Anakin wants to savor every moment with Obi-Wan that he has while it lasts.

The future is so uncertain, and he does his best to push those worries aside so he can focus on it with a calmer, more rational mind when the time comes to discuss it. The thing is… Obi-Wan was right earlier about what he said. He was right that Anakin was going too far when killing Palpatine, and it wasn’t until then that he truly realized it, realized that he would have become as bad as the Sith Master he was trying to kill if he had gone through with it.

How could he have been so blinded?

How could he ever have allowed the Dark Side to cloud his mind so much?

He needs to – to try harder, to learn. He needs time to himself so he can learn how to draw on the Dark Side without being consumed by it. It will not be easy, but Anakin is confident that he can succeed. The Force has not led him along this path for no reason. The Force would never lead him astray.

“Master,” he says quietly as Obi-Wan rubs bacta onto his skin.

He pauses mid-motion, looking up and meeting Anakin’s eyes. “Yes?”

“I – thank you, Master, for trying to stop me earlier. You were right.” It’s hard to admit, because it means admitting that he betrayed Obi-Wan, betrayed his teachings. It means that he did the one thing he’s always tried not to do: failed Obi-Wan. But a part of growth is admitting mistakes and apologizing for him. Anakin doesn’t know if he can truly apologize – he doesn’t know how he feels about it yet – but this – this he can, at least, do.

Obi-Wan smiles faintly, touching Anakin gently through their bond. “Of course.” For a moment, Anakin thinks Obi-Wan is about to say something else, but he doesn’t, continuing to rub the bacta into Anakin’s skin instead, so Anakin tries to be content with this last contact with Obi-Wan no matter how desperately he wants to hug him, wants Obi-Wan to comfort him, protect him. It’s not – Obi-Wan is a Jedi, and he would not treat Anakin the way Anakin always wanted to be treated. Anakin has accepted that, no matter how it hurts. He will – they will be alright. This is not the end. He won’t let it be.

Chapter Text

Once Anakin and Obi-Wan have treated each other's injuries, they, Padme, and Reva all rendezvous with Senator Bail Organa, who is the one who picked up Yoda from the Senate. They get together in a conference room on Bail's personal starship to discuss the future. With most of the Jedi dead or on the run, and with Palpatine having survived, the utmost concern is what to do next. It's not an easy question to answer, not when the only real answer, hiding, feels more like running away than anything else.

And more than that, Anakin knows that he can't do what he wants most. He can't go into hiding with Padme and their child, not when Palpatine will be after him. When the Sith Master comes for him, he refuses to be the reason that other people get injured or worse. More than that, he doesn't want his family's deaths on his head. They will not die because of him.

"Failed we have," Yoda states, summing up the situation perfectly, albeit in depressing terms. "Into exile we must go."

He's not wrong.

"Master Yoda is right," Anakin agrees quietly, looking at the child at his side. Reva is silent, but he can feel her fear curling into the Force. Her fear and her anger.

He probes at her lightly, and she doesn't resist him. She's angry and bitter and hurting. She lost so much in such a short amount of time, and after having lived in such a sheltered life at the Temple, she is struggling to reconcile it, not to mention that it happened so brutally. Reva needs help, help that she cannot get from any Jedi. She is being drawn to the Dark Side, and while she is fighting it right now, at some point, Anakin fears that her growing desire for vengeance will get the better of her unless she learns how to control herself.

Anakin does not trust himself with anyone right now, but he can try for Reva. He held himself back from attacking Sidious and Inquiere in the Temple because of her, and he can force himself to learn control for her, too. She needs him, needs his help, and he knows how dangerous it will be, but he doesn't want to send her out into the galaxy on her own, not when she's struggling and grieving so much. Reva needs stability, and she trusts him. He rescued her, saved her life, and he feels as if he owes her this much, at least.

Perhaps if he takes care of her, trains her, gives her a life, he can somehow make up for how he's failed, for all the people he has already failed.

"Where will we go?" Obi-Wan queries, looking to Anakin.

Anakin feels a sharp pang in his chest when he catches the look and realizes what it means. Obi-Wan thinks that they will go into exile together, and truly, he would like nothing more. He would love to have Obi-Wan at his side as they navigate this difficult part of their lives. But… he will not put Obi-Wan in that kind of danger.

"I think we need to split up," he tells him, shaking his head, trying to convey his regret with his expression, and with a touch through the Force. He doesn't know how to express it aloud, how to tell Obi-Wan how much he loves him, how much he wants to stay with him without being castigated for those feelings, for this attachment. Instead, he buries it, tries to focus on the rest of his family, on Padme and their child. They are what matter now, no matter how much he loves Obi-Wan, no matter how much he will always seek his approval and acceptance and love.

"Why?" Obi-Wan demands, clearly unhappy. "It would make sense for us to stay together. Sidious will be looking for you, and –"

"Exactly," Anakin interrupts. "Master, I will not put you at risk like that. When he comes for me, he will not be able to use you against me. Besides, I need you to watch over Padme and our child, if you can, if it is safe. I need you to do that for me. I cannot be there for them –" Padme makes a quiet, choked sound at that, but he doesn't look at her, doesn't look away from Obi-Wan's eyes, willing him to understand, "– so I would like for you to be there. Please, Master. Protect them."

Obi-Wan hesitates before he finally nods. "I will," he promises.

"Why must you go alone?" Padme sounds upset, and Anakin can feel her distress bleeding into the Force.

"I will take Reva with me," he answers. "She needs my help. I would – Padme, believe me, I want nothing more than to go somewhere safe with you, but I cannot. It would be too dangerous for you, for our child." In front of the others, Anakin will say nothing more, but he knows that Padme will understand, even if she doesn't like it.

After a long moment, she nods.

"Then decided it has been," Yoda states.

"May the Force be with us all," Obi-Wan murmurs, and the sentiment hangs heavily over their heads for a moment, and they all think about the enormity of what is to come.

"Senator," Anakin says, turning to Bail, "I saw Grievous' starfighter on your ship. May I take it?" It would not be the most ideal, but it's a starfighter, and if he is pursued, it will be easier for him to escape if he has a fighter. It's bigger than the Jedi starfighters, so Reva should be able to sit on Anakin's lap, though it will be a little uncomfortable. They can make it work. These are difficult times, after all.

"Of course," Bail agrees instantly, "And rest assured that I will do my utmost to see to the safety of Padme and your child."

They are not friends, exactly, but they are… acquainted, and Anakin cannot say how much he appreciates Bail's words. "I appreciate it. So much."

They nod to one another, before everyone rises, ready to part ways. But first, Anakin needs to bid his goodbyes to Obi-Wan and Padme. Leaving them will hurt but staying with them and knowing that they are hurt because of him will be even worse. This is not forever.

He talks to Padme first.

"I don't like this," she confesses in a whisper, and he wraps his arms around her, holding her body pressed against his, memorizing the feel of it, lest he never get the chance again. He is certain that he will, that they will get their forever, their family, but it will not be yet. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want you to be gone."

"It will be okay," Anakin answers with as much conviction as he can muster, as though he can will it to be true merely by stating it. "This is not forever, Padme. I do not like it, either, but I will do anything to protect you, to protect our child." He presses a hand to her stomach, feeling the kick from inside. "Anything," he repeats.

She nods, tears in her eyes, though she struggles to hold them in. It kills him to see her in pain, but better her tears than her funeral. If he keeps telling himself that, maybe it will hurt a little less. This – it feels like he's being gutted. Repeatedly. But he doesn't know what else to do, either. This is the only path that he sees ahead of him and given how easily he lost control when confronting Palpatine, he doesn't trust himself to be around his family right now.

"I will take a leave and go to Naboo, have the baby there," she tells him, a wistful look of longing flickering through her dark brown eyes. "My parents can take care of him, keep him safe. I will remain in the Senate and see what I can do politically."

Fear seizes him in its bitter grip, and he can't help but tense. "Please," he all but begs, "Please, Padme, be careful. I cannot lose you."

"You won't," she promises, lifting her chin, fire in her eyes. "Palpatine will regret the day he thought to make an Empire. He will regret what he has done. I will make him." She looks so fierce, so determined, that Anakin finds that he believes her. For a moment, he can see a little girl, a spitting image of Padme with the same fire in her eyes. His daughter. Their daughter. He blinks, and the image is gone, but the impression remains. He has no doubt that their child will be a girl.

"Make sure she knows how much I love her," he requests, still touching her belly.

"I will tell him every day," Padme smiles.

Anakin huffs out a strained laugh, leaning forward and kissing her, gently, tenderly. It's a goodbye. It's not a permanent one – he will not let it be – but it is still a goodbye, and it could be a long time before they meet again. "My heart is yours," he vows.

Padme's smile reaches her eyes, but it's not enough to drive away the heartbreak of their goodbye. "And mine is yours."

They don't let it drag out, and Anakin goes to Obi-Wan after that, knowing that this is something he is really not ready for, something he will never be ready for. Obi-Wan…

Anakin's feelings towards his former master are complicated, to say the least, but Obi-Wan has been the one constant in Anakin's life ever since he came to Coruscant. No matter how upsetting he has found Obi-Wan over the years, he has always been there. Always. The idea of being without him for an indefinite period of time is terrifying, and he has no idea how he'll ever do it. But he has to do it.

He has to.

He will not let Obi-Wan be hurt because of him.

They look at each other, meeting each other's eyes, a look saying more than words probably ever could. I love you, Anakin thinks a little desperately. "Do not do anything stupid," he finally manages, smirking slightly, "I will not be there to rescue you."

Obi-Wan fixes him with a stern look. "I do not need you to rescue me, Anakin. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

And it's not until that, that Anakin realizes that Obi-Wan doesn't want this either. His expression is too… forced, and his shielding is too strong. He's hiding, hiding his feelings, and Anakin wishes he could find a way to push Obi-Wan until he lets loose, but that desire fades just as fast. He's exhausted with the push-pull relationship they have. He's tired of Obi-Wan's attitude for all that he loves him. He will never stop loving him. He can't. It's impossible, but he also wants – he wants…

He doesn't know, can't properly put it into words.

All he does know is that he wants to cry very badly, but he swallows those tears back, because if he starts crying, he'll never be able to stop. If he falters now, he'll shatter. "Ten times," he reminds pointedly.

"Nine," Obi-Wan grumbles.

"It is still too many for me to be comfortable," Anakin snips back, because in truth, he is afraid that, without his presence, Obi-Wan will get himself in trouble and have no one who can help him, who can rescue him.

But they are only putting off the inevitable and dragging it out won't make it hurt any less.

Still, Anakin doesn't know what to even say to the man who means more to him than anyone in this entire galaxy. Obi-Wan is a part of him. When apart, he is only half a person. Do you love me? he wants to ask. Was I more to you than an obligation? Do you feel anything more for me than you do for anyone? He can't ask that, though, any more than he ever can.

"Be careful," Obi-Wan finally says. "You have a target on your back more than any of us. You are in the most danger. Don't do anything rash."

"I won't do anything you would not do," Anakin offers cheekily.

"Such gratitude you give me after everything I have done for you," he grouses, but his eyes are fond, so Anakin knows not to take it seriously.

He feels so much right now that he doesn't know what to say, and he can't act on his impulse to hug Obi-Wan. To Anakin's surprise, Obi-Wan reaches out suddenly and clasps his shoulder. He leans into the touch slightly, trying not to be obvious about it, feeling surprised and caught off guard, wondering what could be behind this highly irregular contact that could almost be comfort. Obi-Wan touches him so rarely – and never hugs him – that Anakin has learned to savor each and every moment.

"If you die," Obi-Wan says finally, with an undertone of something that Anakin would think was fear if he didn't know better, "I will bring you back to life and give you a lecture that you will never, ever forget. I mean it."

Anakin raises an eyebrow at him. "Yes, okay. I could say the same to you."

Obi-Wan chuckles, but it sounds strained. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what your planned destination is?"

"I have not fully decided," he answers truthfully, "But even if I had, I do not think it would be safe for either of us. The less we know, the better."

He nods, and there's a flicker of something like resignation in his eyes, but Anakin doesn't push, doesn't know how he even could ask Obi-Wan what he's really thinking, much less feeling. "May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replies, stepping back, and Anakin instantly misses the warm, familiar, comforting weight of his hand.

"And with you, Master."

He forces himself to turn away from Obi-Wan and beckon to Reva as they walk towards the waiting starfighter together. Anakin slides inside, situating himself, before helping Reva settle in his lap. It is awkward, because she's kind of… big, but he can still reach the controls, so he supposes it will have to do.

Anakin does not look back at Padme, at Obi-Wan. He does not look back at the family he is leaving behind while he heads into the unknown, while they all head into the unknown. He will see them again. He will. Maybe it will be years, but they will meet again. They must.

If he looks back, he will hesitate, and his courage will flag. Never before has he done something on his own, something without another person there to guide him. It terrifies him, this – this… independence. Is this what freedom means? If it is, he doesn't know how much he likes it. It is wrong, foreign, lonely. It's not who he is. It's not where he's meant to be.

Anakin Skywalker does not look back as he fires up the engines of the starfighter that once belonged to General Grievous. He does not look back as he flies out into the blackness of space and towards the future that awaits him.

***

Sidious is seething as he paces – storms, more accurately – back and forth across the ruined floor of what was once his office. In a rare show of temper, he waves his hand, crashing the broken desk into the wall and sending splinters flying. Rarely has he ever been so angry, but then again, rarely has he ever come so close to dying. That is an unacceptable outcome.

This is not okay. This is very not okay.

His throat throbs painfully, but he ignores it; pain is power.

None of this should have happened this way. None of it. He had been so certain that he could get Skywalker on his side, that he had, perhaps, overlooked how strong the boy would be. He had been too confident in his manipulations to realize how far the boy has already Fallen. He knew, of course, that Skywalker would come to him to try and kill him, and he had thought that he had been adequately prepared.

The boy would come, and when he did, he would walk into the trap. Sidious would spring it, would use the boy's wild, uncontrolled emotions to get into his head, and he would twist it. It would have been so easy to deepen the fractures in his mind enough to dig in and hold onto it. What he had not accounted for was Skywalker to have Fallen so far and to have mustered enough control that made any form of mind-control impossible. The boy truly meant to kill, and he was too angry to be controlled.

Sidious has but one option left. Skywalker must die. It will be a regrettable loss, but it's one he can work with. After all, the boy's unborn child could make a wonderful apprentice. If not, there is still the… other. He will have to wait, however, because a newborn cannot be made into a Sith. In the meantime, while he waits, perhaps he should try out his mind-manipulation technique on someone else. It's best not to leave anything to chance.

Not after last time.

At the end, he has still emerged the winner in this game. His life is not a small victory, not when he came so close to losing it.

***

In the center of the room that was once the Council chambers, Inquiere kneels. In his hands, he holds the two kyber crystals from his lightsaber, and he keeps his eyes closed as he pours his anger and hatred into them, bleeding them to red.

His new lightsaber will be different. He will design it so that he will never suffer the same fate again. Nearly falling to his death once was enough, and his weapon can, perhaps, double as something else. If it can spin fast enough, it may be enough to stop the same thing from happening once more.

Skywalker caught him off-guard.

Inquiere will not make the same mistake twice. He is a Sith now, and he will be strong. He will gain power, and perhaps, in time… he can become even stronger yet. He will make Skywalker regret his decision to decline Sidious' offer to make him his apprentice.

The title Emperor Inquiere has a nice ring to it.

But that's not what he wants most. He wants to find Skywalker and kill him. He wants to serve his Emperor and become the most powerful – more like second-most – powerful being in the galaxy. He wants to rewrite the pages of history so that he will long be remembered in the future. He wants to be the best, strongest Sith he possibly can be.

And he's already started down that path by destroying the Jedi.

When Inquiere ignites his newly-built lightsaber, it works exactly as he had hoped. It is a weapon, but it is also more than that. It will be his salvation, his escape if a battle gets too hard. With it, he can fly.

Chapter Text

In the end, Anakin decides to go to Tatooine. It seems fitting, he thinks, that he return to the place where everything started, the place where he first met the Jedi. For better or worse, Tatooine was his home, and he has never truly escaped the twin suns, the sting of the sand and of the whip of his childhood. Tatooine does not bring good memories, but this is – it is strategical. It is logic over comfort.

“Where are we going?” Reva asks curiously, one of the first times she’s actually spoken since they left the others. She’s been quiet, alternately dozing and just sitting, and Anakin has given her quiet, has given her time to process everything. But he is glad to see her initiating the conversation, glad to see the curiosity. It means that she’s focusing on her surroundings.

“Tatooine,” he answers, hands firm on the controls of the starfighter as he guides it down through the atmosphere. “It was where I grew up when I was young, before I came to the Temple. I know it well.” He has never forgotten, could never forget. He can just as keenly remember working in the junkyard as he can recall the too heavy, too still weight of his mother in his arms.

“We’re going to your home?” She leans forward, and Anakin thinks, with a vague flare of amusement – Force, he is exhausted; he feels he could sleep for a week or longer – that it’s a good thing he doesn’t need to see to fly.

“I have no home there,” he replies numbly. “It is – the planet is cursed, but it is a good place to hide. Sidious will never look for me there. He knows I would never willingly choose to return.” Belatedly, he tightens his shields, suddenly mindful of the painbitternessanger bleeding into the Force around him.

Reva twists a little, peering back at him over her shoulder. “What happened?”

Anakin forces his grip with his prosthetic to loosen lest he damage the steering mechanism. The Dark Side weighs heavily on him, lapping at his heels, eagerly licking up his pain. He pushes it away firmly, knowing that he cannot allow himself to indulge. It would be a foolish risk, one that would drive him to do stupid, reckless things. Already, a part of him is tempted to impulsively go back to Coruscant and crash the fighter through Palpatine’s window, killing him – killing them both. But Reva. He will not abandon Reva like that.

And for as much as he doesn’t want this child to know the truth of his origins, he cannot hide it from her. There are people who know him on Tatooine, and he cannot shield Reva from the cruelty of the world, not when she’ll be a part of it now.

“I was a slave as a child,” he explains matter-of-factly, “My mother and I both. I was freed by the Jedi. She was not. I left her behind, and when I came back… She had been freed, had found happiness and family, but she died. In my arms. Tatooine is a harsh, brutal planet, and you must be careful never to stray from me when we are there. The scum of the galaxy resides there.”

In the Force, Reva’s presence curls with understanding, with sympathy, with… fear. “Oh,” she whispers, laying a hand on his left forearm, her way of offering him comfort. “That’s awful.”

“We’ll stop by my stepfamily’s moisture farm,” Anakin tells her. He hasn’t seen them since his mother’s funeral, but on Tatooine, family is important. They will willingly welcome him, irrespective of the risks of harboring a fugitive Jedi.

Reva is quiet again, not speaking as he lands on the Lars homestead. He hoists her out before climbing down, stretching after being in such a cramped space for so long. “Is the whole planet like this?” she wonders, twisting around.

“Unfortunately,” Anakin answers dryly. “It’s a desert.”

A figure approaches from the homestead, a blaster in hand, until she recognizes him. Beru. “Anakin!” she exclaims, hurrying towards him with a bright smile. “It’s so good to see you again. We weren’t sure when we’d see you again.”

He gives her a strained, forced smile, knowing that, by now, he’s running pretty much on sheer willpower. His exhaustion is not nearly as physical as it is mental or emotional. “It has been a long few days,” he admits. “I do not know what you have heard, but the Republic and Jedi Order have fallen. Few have survived. I am seeking refuge here for the time being. This is Reva. Reva, this is Beru Whitesun.”

 “Hi,” the girl offers shyly.

“Lars, actually, now,” Beru corrects lightly, “And, of course, you are welcome here. You can stay with us for as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Anakin replies, “But I do not wish to bring you trouble. I can survive on my own. We will find a small place to stay, close to here, perhaps, but if we disappear in the Wastes…” He trails off, looking towards the wilderness. “The newly crowned Emperor is after me. He is dangerous. I will not drag that danger into your lives.”

Beru’s expression pinches. “The Jundland Wastes are perilous, Anakin. All sorts of dangers lurk out there. You know that.”

“I am a Jedi,” he assures her, though he no longer knows if that term is correct. “We will be fine. Are Owen or Cliegg here?”

The moment grief flashes across her face, he knows something is wrong. “Cliegg has… left us,” she tells him softly. “He did not take well to losing Shmi.”

Anakin inhales slowly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

She waves it off. “You didn’t know. But please, come in, at least. Let me offer you something. Stay for the night, maybe. There is a place, an abandoned homestead in the Wastes. You can check it out, but I’m sure the vaporators need to be fixed.”

Despite himself, he can’t help but smirk. “There is not a machine I have met that I cannot fix.”

Beru laughs at that, and even Reva smiles a little. “Shmi said that about you, that you are very gifted.” She beckons them in, and with only a moment of hesitation, Anakin follows her down the steps into the homestead. It looks much the same as it did before, and she shows them to a room, telling them that they should rest, until the suns have passed their zenith, and the heat of the day has dissipated some.

“She seems nice,” Reva comments the moment they’re alone. Anakin is glad to see that the child seems much more relaxed now. She doesn’t appear nearly as wound up, and her anger and grief aren’t nearly as pronounced anymore.

“She is a good woman,” Anakin agrees. “I…” He trails off, yearning fiercely. “You would have loved my mother,” he finally says, not looking at her. He hesitates to talk about himself to other Jedi, too afraid of being judged by them, but there are no Jedi anymore are there? And Reva is only a child. She respects him, looks up to him. Perhaps he doesn’t deserve it, but she will not castigate him for feeling.

Reva plops down on the bed. “What was she like?”

He swallows hard, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, idly fingering the edges of his bag. “She was very kind, very compassionate,” he replies. “She protected me as much as she could. She… she always told me that it’s important to help others, especially if they cannot help themselves. That’s how I met Qui-Gon – I offered him shelter when a sandstorm blew in. I won a podrace to help him and Padme.”

A myriad of emotions threatens to drown him when he mentions Padme’s name. He fears for her. He’s terrified for her, for their child. Being so far away, he will be unable to help if they are in danger and trusting in the Force to protect them is hard. He fears for them, fears for Obi-Wan, too. He fears for Ahsoka, for Aayla. He… fears. Sometimes, it seems that’s all he does: fears.

Pushing aside the crushing weight of his emotions, he pulls out the holodrive he packed into his bag, plugging it into a datapad and activating it. If he doesn’t do something, he’ll lose his mind. As exhausted as he is, he’s too tightly wound to sleep, so he scrolls through the various engineering projects, trying to find something to distract himself with.

Reva wanders around the room quietly, studying everything, probably comparing what it’s like here compared to what she knew at the Temple. Probably, he should talk to her about how she’s feeling; Force knows he got enough experience at that with Ahsoka, but he just – he needs to sort out his own head, first, and mediating with Obi-Wan or Master Yoda aren’t options. Nor is going to the Room of One Thousand Fountains. Nor is –

He blows out an irritated breath at his own spiraling thoughts, clicking on the first design. It’s a prototype spacesuit made with nanodroids, something he started over a year ago and never finished. Maybe finishing the design will be pointless, but it will give him something to do.

On that note, he also ought to do something with the starfighter. Maybe he can redesign it, make it use less fuel so he doesn’t have to scrap it – the weapon’s array will be very useful if he gets into a firefight. Fuel is the most important concern, however, since starfighter fuel will not be available here on Tatooine.

During the war, he never had the time for all of his various projects, but now? Now, all he has is time. Too much time.

***

The next morning, Anakin and Reva officially move to the homestead in the Jundland Wastes. It’s hardly even a homestead by this point – it’s more of a hut cut into the stone walls of the mountainside. Still, it will be a serviceable home for the two of them. He’s been in far worse conditions during the war, and Anakin can’t help but notice the strategic advantages of this hut. It’s on the side of the mountain, meaning that there’s only one direction from which enemies can come, and he can see for several klicks around them.

Despite Anakin’s protests, Owen insisted on coming and helping him repair the vaporator outside as well as loaning him a second. “You’ll need the water, especially with a child,” he states, tone brooking no room for argument, “And I don’t know how those Jedi were, but here, we help our own.”

All Anakin can do is thank him profusely.

“You can work on the farm,” Owen offers. “I’ll even pay you.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Anakin assures him. “I can probably get work in the nearby towns, too. If you could watch Reva while I’m gone –”

“Of course,” his stepbrother answers gruffly. “You needn’t ask.”

After a while, Owen returns to his own property, leaving Anakin and Reva alone. Throughout the rest of the day, Anakin helps Reva get used to their new life, explaining to her, in great detail, what it will be like for them now. He tells her that the life she had in the Temple is not normal, by any means, for the rest of the galaxy. Jedi younglings at the Temple are very privileged, cut off from the life of the common people elsewhere, especially in the Outer Rim.

Thankfully, Reva accepts it all quite readily, even if she has some… concerns about their ‘fresher, or more like the lack thereof. Obviously, they have a ‘fresher, but it’s a rather primitive one which doesn’t have a water shower. Water is far too precious on Tatooine to be used for showering, at least regularly. The Lars have a water shower, but only because they’re so well-off, and even then, it’s rarely ever used.

Their first night in their own hut is… hard.

It’s all so quiet, so empty. For years, Anakin has been used to being surrounded by people, by the presences of other living things in the Force, but here on Tatooine, it’s a desert. It’s empty of that thriving life. He misses Obi-Wan, Padme, his child. He misses Ahsoka. He misses his boys. He misses Aayla.

(He tries not to remember Appo, tries not to remember the way it felt in the Force when he broke the clone’s neck.)

He tries not to think about what’s happened with them, tries not to wonder about Ahsoka, about Rex. Wondering is dangerous. It only reminds him how little he can do to help anyone right now, when he’s probably the most wanted man in the Rep- Empire.

Reva is shifting around a lot, too, her presence too bright and alert to be sleeping, and finally, Anakin sits up on his sleeping mat, which is on the opposite side of the room. “Can’t sleep?” he asks quietly.

The child groans. “No. It’s too… dark here, lifeless.”

The only living presences around for miles are the two of them. It must be a strange thing for her, to be in an environment like this. But, from the quiver of unease echoing into the Force, Anakin suspects that isn’t the only problem. “C’mere,” he finally offers. He doesn’t need to ask twice.

Reva readily pops up, scooting her sleeping mat over next to his and curling against his side. Anakin reaches out, lightly stroking a hand through her messy hair – he’ll have to have her comb it in the morning; he knows why she’s too tired to bother with it tonight – and tucking an arm around her. “You’re safe, Reva,” he promises gently. “I will always protect you.”

“I – I feel so… alone,” she confesses, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I miss the others. I – I… I’ve never been alone like this before.”

Anakin has never felt so out of his element before. He’s never faced anything like this before, comforting a child who has lost everything, so he thinks back to how he felt when he first came to Temple, taken from everything he had known, trying to remember what he had wanted and needed then. Reassurance. Comfort. Familiarity. He had missed his mother terribly and being told that he needed to let go of her had only made it worse.

“It is natural to grieve,” he offers hesitantly, tightening his grip on her, giving her the assurance that he’s here, “And even knowing that… they are a part of the Force does not make it easier. But you are not alone in this, Reva. If you are troubled, I want you to come to me. I will help, whenever I can.”

She sniffles, resting her forehead against his chest. “Okay,” she chokes out. “Okay. I will. I – thank you… Anakin.” She sounds so uncertain calling him his name, even though he had told her, several times, that she cannot call him ‘Master Skywalker’ here. And until he finds a different name for himself, he will continue to be Anakin.

Reva falls asleep shortly thereafter, but Anakin lays awake for what feels like hours before he finally, finally drifts off.

In his dreams, he’s back in the Council chambers, his body unresponsive to him, no matter how hard he struggles. The clones’ hands are hard and unyielding, keeping him on his knees as Inquiere spins his lightsaber around, taunting him, as he cuts down the children who had looked to him for help.

But it’s not the boy – Sors – who is killed last. It’s Reva, her dark brown eyes wide with terror. “You promised,” she says, accusing, her headless body crumpling to the floor. “You promised to protect me.”

He wants to throw up, feeling both hot and cold at once, the Force wild and uncontrolled in his grasp. “I tried,” he gasps out, fighting tears. “I tried.”

“Not hard enough,” Reva’s head argues, and the Force wrenches from his control, the clones and Inquiere thrown to the opposite wall, crushed on impact. And when he looks, he can see two of his men. Rex. Fives. Faces he knows as well as his own. Men he had loved and protected. Men who were as close as brothers to him.

He jerks awake, emotionally wrung out, silent tears sliding down his face. He knows better than to cry on Tatooine, because tears are a waste of water, but just this once, he gives himself a minute of weakness, and lets himself cry. It’s his greatest fear, to fail everyone around him. Already, he has failed so very badly. He has failed all the people counting on him: Obi-Wan, the Jedi, the younglings, his men, Padme, their child. He’s failed them. It’s easy to resolve not to do so again, but it’s hard to actually carry through with that resolution.

Is he truly good enough for Reva? Before he left the others, Anakin had thought he would be. He had thought that he could help her, but can he truly? Or he is only destined to fail her too, as he has everyone else?

Breathing out shakily, he blinks away his tears, forcing them away. He cannot afford to cry; they do not have the water to spare, and he has no right to dwell on his own self-pity when he has more important things to worry about: namely, Reva. There is a child counting on him, and true, this is hardly the first time, but it’s far more terrifying now, because he’s entirely alone. They’re alone.

The thought rings hollowly in his mind, as hollow as the gut-clenching devastation he had felt in his nightmare. His stomach twists, but he swallows down the nausea, counting backwards from a hundred to calm himself and unwind the tension in his body.

Finally, when his breathing is steady again, Anakin lets his gaze focus on Reva. She’s sleeping, her expression peaceful and childlike in a way it isn’t when she’s awake. She has lost so much, and she cannot lose him, too, to his own self-loathing and guilt. He must be strong for her sake. Her body is warm and alive next to him, and he touches her Force signature, lightly stroking along the weak bond linking them together.

The feel of her, her deep, even breathing, assures him that she’s still alive, and with her as an anchor, knowing that sleep will not come, Anakin lets himself drift into the Force, seeking out meditation in lieu of sleep. No doubt, he will regret his inability to rest tomorrow when exhaustion nags at him, but for tonight, it will be enough. He has faced worse during the war, after all.

He empties his mind as Obi-Wan taught him, and in the cold of the desert night, Anakin seeks out solace from the Force, the one thing he has always had, the one thing he can never lose.

Chapter Text

Padme loses her battle with tears some indefinite time after Anakin has gone, and after she has departed for Naboo. She needs a break from this all, and the child will be coming soon. She needs rest. She needs to see Sabe again.

But right now, on the starship, she sobs.

The world as she knew it has come careening down all around her, and the one single good thing she has left is her child, her unborn son. She presses a hand to her belly, feeling the kick beneath her palm, as if the baby somehow can sense her distress and is reacting to it. Probably, it is. Probably, she needs to calm down.

Padme has asked for a short leave of absence which the queen granted to her, so she’s going to her parent’s place. She hopes to remain there until the birth of her child; after, she’ll figure out what to do. Like she said to Anakin, she plans to return to the Senate and fight for what’s right, for democracy, for Palpatine’s reign to come to an end. She knows she’ll be playing with fire, but she’ll be ready for it. She’ll be strong.

Right now, she just needs a moment to be weak.

When Padme arrives at Theed, Sabe is waiting for her on the platform along with Padme’s sister, Sola. She hurries towards them as fast as she can, given her pregnancy, and she embraces Sabe first – though it’s horribly awkward when they’re both very pregnant – before her sister steals her away in a bone-crushing embrace.

“We’ve been so worried for you,” Sola confides, looping her arm with Padme’s as she leads her to the speeder, “And you don’t look very good. Maybe you can finally get a well-deserved break from politics. You work too hard.”

Sabe snorts. “Please,” she says, “Don’t even bother. I have tried fruitlessly for years to get her to take more time for herself, but she won’t do it.”

“Ah, I see how it is,” Padme states dryly, feeling a lot more like herself now that she’s surrounded by friendly faces again, “You two are ganging up on me.”

They make light-hearted conversation as they make the short flight from the spaceport to the Naberrie home. Padme looks forward to being back, to being in the familiar, cozy surroundings of her childhood home, especially when she has just lost Anakin. She understands why he left, but she still wishes that he hadn’t done so. She wishes that he could be here when their child is born. She wants the safety and security of his arms around her.

But wishes will change nothing; fighting will. So, she will fight to bring her husband-to-be back to her and their child.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been staying in your room,” Sabe tells her, leaning back, one hand absently rubbing circles on her belly.

Padme nudges her. “We used to share, back when I was queen. Why ever would I mind?”

“I’m bigger,” her best friend and body-double deadpans, and for some inexplicable reason, Padme finds that hilarious. She giggles until she nearly cries, and then, they’re both laughing.

“How are you?” Padme questions when she finally stops wheezing for air, sobering.

Sabe’s pregnancy is a very touchy subject. She had discovered it around the same time as Padme herself had, and she’d left for Naboo several months later, when she became too far along to continue to serve as a handmaid. To this day, they have no idea who the father is. Tearfully, Sabe had confessed that it should have been impossible, that she had done nothing that could have led to it. The revelation of the pregnancy had left her deeply shaken, and Padme doesn’t know if she’s truly recovered from it; she had not wanted it, after all.

“Your family is lovely,” Sabe answers, which is not an answer at all, but the shadows on her face are deeper. “You are fortunate that I told your mother, or she would chew your ear off when we arrive.” Padme doesn’t doubt it.

But that isn’t what she asked, and after a moment of hesitation, she decides to persist. Reaching out, she takes Sabe’s hand, squeezing it. “What will you do after the child is born?”

Something flickers across the other woman’s face, and she shrugs one shoulder, squeezing Padme’s hand in return. “I thought I would give the baby to Yane and Sache.” For some reason, that makes Padme’s heart clench painfully, even if it logically makes sense. Yane and Sache, who have adopted one another as sisters, decided to start a family together, adopting children from all over. They love children, and they would never refuse to take in another.

And yet.

And yet –

“Are you certain this is what you want?” Padme asks gently.

Sabe glares at her. “I don’t fault the child for growing, but I didn’t ask for it, Padme. I didn’t want it. It is innocent, though, so I can at least give it a home.”

“I can take it,” she blurts out before she even thinks about it.

What – why – why did she just say that? What came over her?

Sabe’s eyebrows fly upwards. “You?” she repeats, disbelieving, “But I thought you were planning to leave your child here on Naboo with your parents?”

“I am,” Padme replies, “But I – our children will be born around the same time, by our estimation. I could adopt your baby.” She hadn’t thought about it before now, and she has no idea why she feels so strongly about this, but there’s something… something…

Inside her, the baby turns, and Padme reflexively touches the bump.

“If you want,” Sabe says neutrally, “But I… please do not ask me to care for it. I will watch yours, but I –” She chokes on words, and looks away, squeezing her eyes closed. “This child means something to me that no child should ever mean to its mother. I cannot forget it, but I don’t want to see it. Not right now.”

“It’s okay,” Padme soothes. “I understand.” And she does. She and Sabe have been friends ever since the latter first became her handmaid when they were fourteen, right after Padme was elected queen. A deep bond has been forged between them, one that has stood firm for years, despite everything thrown at them.

No matter what Padme decides, she knows that Sabe will support her. And that means that she, in turn, must support Sabe when she needs it, too.

***

Somehow, Padme and Sabe go into labor only hours apart on the same night, a mere week after Padme came to Naboo. Childbirth is hard. It’s painful and excruciating, and she wants Anakin here, but he’s not here, and –

Sabe gives birth to a boy fifteen minutes before Padme gives birth to a girl.

Huh. Anakin was right.

A girl.

Leia.

Padme cradles the newborn baby against her chest, taking in the sheer beauty of her, the miracle of having a child of her own. She has never felt like this before, so protective. She has never loved so deeply and fiercely before, and maybe for the first time, she can understand why Sola encourages her to have a family of her own. Right here and right now, she would love nothing more, but the galaxy needs her too, and she is used to ignoring her own needs for the sake of others.

Still, she cannot deny that something is… missing, other than the obvious.

Anakin ought to be here, but he’s not, and it’s not just him who is missing.

It’s… something.

“What will you name him?” Padme queries, trying to distract herself from the pain and exhaustion and feeling of wrongness.

“I… don’t know,” Sabe admits, shaking her head. They’re in the same medcenter room now that the births are complete. “I never thought about it.”

“Luke,” Padme replies instantly, and around her, something sings. “When Anakin and I talked about names, I suggested Luke, if it would be a boy.” She pauses, and then laughs. “I guess I was right, in a sense.”

“Luke,” Sabe echoes. “It fits.”

Padme asks the droid nurse to bring her Luke so she can hold him, this baby that she chose even if she didn’t give birth to him, and somehow, he fits in her arms the same way Leia does, as if he always was hers. It’s unnerving.

It’s even more unnerving when Leia twists in her other arm, as if sensing Luke’s presence, reaching a flailing arm in his direction. And Padme’s breath catches when Luke reaches back. There’s something happening here, something that she cannot understand or perceive, and it makes her wish that Anakin, or a Jedi, was present. Surely, they would know, would understand, what it was that just transpired.

The babies coo, softly, as if talking, and Padme gets the feeling that they are. This is…

Luke might not have been hers by birth, but he is still hers by choice. She has chosen him to be her son just as Leia is her daughter. And that means… she has twins. Twins. Imagine that.

***

It’s not until the morning after the birth that Padme asks the droid to do a paternity test on Luke. Privately. Sabe does not want to know. She would prefer to forget about it all – it’s been very hard on her, mentally, and she needs a break. Padme understands. But she also wants to know the truth. She wants to know who the father of this child is, who it was that caused her best friend so much pain.

“I’m afraid something must have been wrong,” the droid frets when the test finishes running. “Something must have been contaminated. Perhaps I should run it again.”

Warning bells go off in Padme’s mind. “What did you find?” she asks, glancing towards the crib where Luke and Leia are sleeping together. She commed her parents already and explained the situation to them. As she’d expected, her mother is more than willing to take in both children and care for them, but she needs to make some additional arrangements; all of this happened so suddenly after all.

“The results are… inconclusive,” the droid answers, “But it would appear that the father is not human.”

Padme’s head whips towards the crib as she studies the baby’s features. He looks fully human, with bright blue eyes and faint whisps of reddish-blonde hair. “Are you certain? What species is he, then?”

“I am uncertain,” comes the reply, “It is listed solely as unknown.”

The alarm bells get stronger. Something is wrong. “What else?” she demands, sensing that there’s more.

“It appears that the child is somehow related to Emperor Palpatine… and the Jedi Anakin Skywalker.”

And her blood runs cold.

It all makes sense now, in a horrifying way. Sabe’s pregnancy should not have happened, and Padme has heard from Anakin how his own mother inexplicably became pregnant with him. She knows that Anakin is not fully human, that half of his genetic material is marked simply as ‘unknown’ by all tests which are run. He never had a father, not a true genetic father, and he chalked it up to it just being the Force.

But what if he was wrong?

What if… Anakin’s “father” was actually a Sith? Is it even possible for them to create a child using twisted Dark Side magic?

Padme has no idea, and as much as she wants to protest the impossibility of such a thing, every instinct she has is screaming that this is the answer. That little Luke was created by Palpatine using a twisted Force ritual, for reasons that she does not even want to fathom. And this means that her child – her children – are probably in grave danger.

She has not seen Obi-Wan since she came to Naboo, but she suddenly wishes that he was here, even if they are barely friends, because she is… frightened. Politics, she can handle. The Force and strange dark magic, she cannot.

Despite the pain in her body, she pushes herself to her feet, walking to the crib and standing there, staring down at the sleeping babies. They’re touching each other, as if seeking each other out, even unconsciously. “I’ll protect you,” she whispers, touching their heads lightly, a fierce motherly love washing over her. “I’ll protect you, no matter what. You are mine. I will not let Palpatine get you.”

No matter what it takes.

And that means she has to go back to the Senate. She has to go back to fighting for freedom, fighting for the tyrannical empire to be torn down.

Now, she will be fighting for her children, too, and she will fight for them until her last breath.

***

Sidious feels the disturbance in the Force. He feels it as a small star is suddenly birthed, glowing dimly on the edges of his awareness. In the privacy of his office, he smiles, reaching out to the currents of the Force as he senses out the newborn.

His future apprentice has been born.

Oh, to be certain, the baby is only his backup apprentice – he will go for Skywalker’s child first but having a creation of his own was an opportunity he could not pass up. And it had been so easy, too. He had learned everything on the manipulation of midi-chlorians from his master, and he has, finally, successfully applied it.

Perhaps this younger Skywalker will not become his either, but this child, this creation of his own… It is his own flesh and blood, his own genetic material worked into its genome. He is the only father it will ever truly have, and in time, it will come to him when he calls.

He reaches further into the Force, casting his consciousness towards the tiny lifeform.

And then, he stops cold. Something is… wrong, because he does not just sense merely one Force presence when he reaches out, towards the link of blood binding him to this creation of his. He senses… two. One is his child. The other… She burns bright in the Force, bright and strong and fierce like –

Kriff.

It’s Skywalker’s child.

Somehow, in some inexplicable way, his own child has become bonded with Skywalker’s. It makes no sense. It should be impossible. And yet, it has happened. Well, maybe he can somehow use this to his advantage in the future. But for now, he will sit back and wait. They are still too young to be of use to him.

***

Obi-Wan looks up from the cup of tea in front of him when the door slides open. He is unsurprised to see Breha enter – he had expected she would come to him, sooner or later, bearing news of Senator Amidala.

Ever since he parted ways from the others, he has been in hiding on Alderaan. He has nowhere else to go, and this is the best place for him to hide while watching over Anakin’s family from a distance. As much as he would like to stay nearer to the child, he knows it isn’t safe. No doubt, Palpatine will be watching, and he cannot take a risk like that, no matter how much he would like to. Maybe in the future, when the galaxy has settled, he can live near the child.

But not now. Not yet.

“There is news?” he requests, trying to keep the heaviness of his thoughts from his voice. Anakin’s absence has been weighing heavily on him. He misses his once Padawan fiercely, even if he would never admit to it aloud. Nothing in the galaxy feels right when Anakin isn’t with him, and it’s worse knowing that their separation has no endpoint.

Breha nods. “Bail contacted me,” she replies. “Senator Amidala gave birth to a girl. Leia.”

“Leia,” he repeats, sounding out the name. It fits, he thinks, the child that he imagines her as being in the future when she gets older.

“Her handmaid, Sabe, gave birth to a boy, Luke, whom the Senator has chosen to take in as her own. Bail thought you should know.”

“Thank you,” he answers, nodding, and Breha takes her leave.

Alone, he turns the unexpected news over in his mind. There is something there, on the edges of his mind, something that tells him this is significant in some way. He cannot understand how, but he knows that he will do his utmost to keep Leia safe. And Luke as well, if the Senator has chosen him. Perhaps, he realizes, it was their birth that sent a faint ripple through the Force.

The future has shifted, and this time, he hopes it’s for the better.

***

Anakin feels the Force shift around him, and faintly, distantly, he can feel the flicker of a small star. If it was not so dangerous, he would reach out further. But he does not need to, to know what this is. His child has been born.

A sense of joy fills him, no matter how fleeting it is. He has a child now. He’s a father.

It hardly seems real, and probably, it will not truly feel real until he sees her with his own eyes – it is a girl, he is certain, no matter what Padme has said.

But along with that joy, Anakin also feels grief, because he was not there to witness it, to see as his child was born, to welcome her into the world. He will not be there to hold her, to feed her. He will not be there to see her smile or watch her as she grows from infancy. He will not be there so long as the Empire continues, and that knowledge crushes him. By all rights, he should be there, but he won’t be.

Because of the Empire. Because of the Sith. Because of Sidious.

Anger follows the grief, but he takes a deep breath and lets it go. Now, his anger can do nothing. He can be as angry as he likes. It will change nothing. He will still be here on Tatooine, in exile, and his child will still be on Naboo. It might as well be the other side of the galaxy, for all the distance that separates them.

But he vows, in his heart, that one day, he will find his way back home. He will return to the family he was forced to leave, and he will make up for all the time that they have lost. Someday. Someday he will see his daughter. Someday, she will get to know his face, his voice. But that day is not today, and he can only hope that it will be soon.

Chapter Text

It’s the faint curl of distress into the Force that awakes him, and he comes awake all at once, half reaching for the blaster that he keeps next to him before he realizes that there’s no danger.

Anakin lets out a quiet breath, turning over to look for Reva. She’s not next to him as she always is, but he sees her figure not too far away, so he doesn’t start panicking. Slowly, he sits up, trying to gauge her feelings in the near darkness. She’s sitting near the entrance of their hut, knees pulled up to her chest, arms looped around them as she stares out into the blackness of the desert.

She doesn’t move when Anakin slips off the sleeping mat and sits next to her, not saying anything for a few moments. “Nightmare?” he guesses finally.

Even now, three weeks after everything went down, they still struggle with it. They have good days and bad days, and today seems as though it will be the second. Maybe it’s because they were trapped inside all day due to a sandstorm. Maybe – it could be a thousand things really.

“Mm.” It’s not really an answer, but in the Force, Reva flickers with exhausted grief.

Anakin nudges her shoulder lightly. “You can talk to me.” He used to say the same to Ahsoka, when she struggled with her grief and guilt after missions gone wrong, where she watched the men under her command die. You can’t protect everyone, Anakin told her, You are still learning. It had been different for him, of course; it has always been different for him. He is expected to succeed where others fail, triumph when others find defeat.

It was that burden that crushed him slowly, bit by bit, as the war dragged on. And now that it’s over, he is left with a hollow sense of failure, knowing that everything he did was never enough to save the people who counted on him.

“If I had… fought,” Reva says haltingly, “I could have saved them.” She doesn’t look at him, a cool gentle breeze blowing through the entrance, ruffling their hair and clothes.

“You were hurt,” Anakin replies, “And a child. It was never your place to protect yourself – or others. It would have been an unfair burden to put on you. What happened is not your failure or your doing. Life is not always fair. We must make the most of it. The Force works in mysterious ways.”

She makes a face. “You make it sound so easy.”

He laughs emptily. “It is crushing,” he replies matter-of-factly, “The knowledge that you survived, the questions of how you could have done better or done more. The truth of it is that we can never know. It is enough that you survived. You could not have saved them. It would only have prolonged the inevitable. They are – at peace. It is not… an easy thing to be the one who survives.”

Reva tightens her arms, leaning against his side, and he tucks an arm around her shoulders, holding her small body against his. “We have each other,” Anakin adds quietly, “That is not nothing.”

It’s minutes before she begins to relax, shifting sideways and winding her arms around him, burying herself in his embrace. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers.

Anakin cannot take her guilt or her grief from her, no matter how much he wishes he could. He can only be a support for her, letting her presence soothe him when he falters. And like he said, they have each other. It is not a small thing, when so many Jedi survivors are likely alone and being hunted. They are relatively safe, for now at least.

They sit there for at least an hour before the sky begins to lighten, heralding the start of a new day. Reluctantly, Anakin urges her up, so they can get a head start on their work. Because of the sandstorm that lasted nearly two days, they need to check their vaporators to ensure that they’re still functioning optimally before they go to the Lars homestead; no doubt, Owen will be needing their help today.

Over the half month that they’ve been on Tatooine, they’ve fallen into a comfortable routine. After checking their vaporators each morning and eating, they head to the Lars homestead. Reva stays there, helping around the farm, while Anakin either aids Owen or goes to Anchorhead or Mos Eisley to find work. Given his skillset as a mechanic, it’s easy to find well-paying jobs. Reva doesn’t like being separated from him for extended periods of time, but they all have to make do – and truthfully, Anakin is equally on edge when they’re apart.

The starfighter – once Grievous’ – has been modified into a unique, solar-powered speeder. He redesigned parts of it, so it’s still space-worthy, even though it doesn’t look like a starship from the outside. But it’s a reliable, trustworthy vehicle, and so long as it functions, Anakin intends to keep using it.

While they fly to the Lars homestead that morning, the early morning sunlight shining red gold on their backs, Anakin quizzes Reva on the Huttese he’s been teaching her. Not only has he been working to teach her an Outer Rim accent, not too different from the one he had as a child, but also, he’s been teaching her Huttese, since it’s the second most common language here on Tatooine. Some people only speak it and don’t even know Basic. It will help her blend in, which is of utmost importance.

“One of the vaporators isn’t working,” Owen tells him when they arrive, “And it’ll need parts to be fixed. I need to make some repairs on the north side.”

Fixing things. That he can do. Sometimes, it seems like that’s the only thing he’s still good at, amidst all the rest of his many failings and shortcomings. “Send me a list. I will have to go to Mos Eisley, probably.” He doesn’t want to, but then again, he never does.

“Then I’ll expect you back by sunset,” Owen replies. They’ve done this enough times by now. Mos Eisley is a distance away from the homestead, and it doesn’t make sense to spend the whole day going to and from. Instead, Anakin will go there, get the parts, and find an odd job or something to make better use of the cost of going.

“Reva, be good until I get back, okay?” he says, turning to her. She looks as unhappy as he feels, and she throws her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing her against him, stroking a hand over her hair. And as he does, he can’t help but think that this must be what it’s like to have an actual daughter. Ahsoka was – she was his. He was tasked with raising her and training her, but they were at war. All he could do was teach her to protect herself.

But with Reva, it’s different. With her, he can give into the overwhelming desire to protect her and keep her safe.

(He does not let himself think about his own child, the newborn who is on another planet, maybe even on the other side of the galaxy from him, his own flesh and blood who needs him. He ought to be there. He ought to –)

“Of course,” she murmurs into his tunic. Both of them wear the simple, gray garb of farmers and people on Tatooine. It’s cheap, light, and durable, protecting them from the elements while not trapping the heat.

Anakin squeezes her again and lets go, checking that his canteen of water is filled, before getting the list of parts and supplies to get from Mos Eisley. He glances back at her as he fires up the engine, speeding away from the homestead. He goes into town quite regularly, but it never really gets easier. Maybe it’s not… good, that he and Reva are so attached to each other, but he cannot imagine it being any other way. They are survivors, and all they have left is one another.

When he reaches the town, he estimates that he has three hours of daylight before the suns reach their zenith, and all sane individuals seek shelter from the sweltering heat. First, he gets the parts they need, and haggling over the prices takes time. His tunic is sticking to his back with sweat by the time he’s done. Force, it is hot today.

The cantina is nearby, though, and he ducks into the darkness of the interior, immediately being overwhelmed by flashing lights and music. After a moment, he adjusts to the dimness, and the coolness, and he moves to the bar. He has made contacts here, and he might as well check in with some of them while he’s here.

“One shot of your strongest,” Anakin says, dropping credits on the counter.

The bartender, a Rodian named Idhi, complies, sliding the glass to him. Anakin downs it, feeling the burn of the alcohol. He doesn’t drink much, mainly because it’s so pointless. He can’t get drunk – he has tried before, once when he was newly Knighted, when he was trying to forget the feel of death in the Force, the scent of blood and mud and the stickiness of it plastering his body, after a particularly difficult mission. Nothing had come of it.

He glances around, leaning forward. “Did you get my order?”

He could deal with the Jawas for this, but… well, he would rather remain more inobtrusive. If he pays well, Idhi won’t ask him any questions and won’t sell him out, either. Most people don’t request pieces of durasteel armor, made to certain specifications. Maybe it’s foolish, but Anakin wants to do something of use. He’s designed a prototype of a spacesuit, and even if he can’t get his hands on nanodroids, he can at least experiment with what he can get to see if the design is actually space worthy. Maybe he could sell it for a high price when it’s done – get more credits that way. They all need to survive somehow.

“I did,” Idhi answers. “The pieces are out back. The freight was extra this time – no questions, you said. I had to get a smuggler involved.”

“I said I’ll pay you,” Anakin reminds, calculating how many credits he has, and how many he can afford to spend on this trip without dropping the balance to a critical point. “You still owe me for fixing your cooling unit. And your speeder.”

Idhi grunts. “I’ll balance it out,” he agrees grudgingly.

Anakin raises an eyebrow. “I think you still owe me some credits.”

The Rodian rolls his eyes. “Get a few drinks then, on the house.”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He should be more responsible than drinking in the middle of the day, like one of the scum here who wastes away their lives and credits with alcohol. But he thinks about the oppressive cloud of guilt dragging him down, the deep yearning ache to be with his family again, to be with his child. He thinks about how badly he failed, how many people he failed, how close he had come to defeating Palpatine… and becoming like him.

Most of all, he thinks about how badly he wishes he could stop thinking about everything.

“Sure,” he says. “Bring it on.”

And when Anakin downs his second shot, he deliberately refrains from tapping into the Force to keep the alcohol from dulling his senses. He doesn’t let himself use his power to filter the alcohol from his blood. If he’ll drink, he wants to feel it.

Maybe it’s useless and impossible, but Anakin wishes that he could forget everything that he’s lost, if only for a few hours.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when Idhi informs him, over yet another refill, that it’s his last free one. “How are you still standing?” the Rodian asks, grumbles really. It’s not a serious question, and he doesn’t really care either. He and Anakin have an arrangement, and Anakin pays him not to ask questions.

“High-alcohol tolerance,” Anakin slurs, tripping a little over the syllables. “Unfortunately.”

He leaves the cantina after that, flinching when the brilliant sunlight outside sends pain stabbing through his head. Ouch. Alcohol-induced migraines are awful, because they not only drain away his energy, but also, they completely dull his senses. But. That was… kind of the point?

Anyone else would be too drunk to walk, possibly too drunk to move at all. But he is not most people, and he feels a certain frustration at his inability to – to let go or forget or anything. It seems like a curse, almost, that he cannot ever forget, even temporarily, what has happened. It’s been such a short amount of time, and yet – and yet… when he closes his eyes, he can still see the dead bodies in the Temple. He can still smell the smoke, blood, and ash.

If he could go even a day without remembering, that would be just as well.

When he gets back to the homestead much later, the suns are close to setting, and despite his detour at the cantina, Anakin still managed to get everything on his list – as well as picking up the delivery for his little project – in addition to fixing a couple speeders which broke down from the sandstorm that just ended. All in all, he thinks it was pretty successful day, even if he feels a little unsteady still from the alcohol.

“You’ve been drinking,” Owen states flatly once Anakin returns.

He huffs out a breath that isn’t really a laugh. “That obvious?” He’s still slurring his words, and his head feels foggy. That makes it harder for him to focus on – on the things he wants to forget. But still, it’s not enough. It’s not what he could get if he wasn’t so strong with the Force, if his body didn’t metabolize things so rapidly.

Owen presses his lips together, and Anakin pokes at him through the Force; he’s radiating annoyance and most of all, concern. “Go clean up,” he orders. “You don’t want Reva to see you like that.”

Hm? Well – no. Probably not. He… hadn’t thought about that. Maybe it wasn’t one of his best decisions, but oh well. If it helps him cope…

He does as he’s told, though, and after a short shower – and silently promising to pay Owen extra for the use of the water – Anakin feels a lot more clear-headed. His grief and depression weigh him down, though, no matter how much he struggles to hold them off and ride through the never-ending storm.

When he leaves the ‘fresher, Owen is lingering nearby, working with a broken vaporator part. “Do you have a moment?” he asks.

Anakin hesitates, looking towards the rest of the homestead where he can feel Reva’s presence. It’s nearly sunset now, and he wants to check in on her, even if, through their bond, he can feel that she’s alright.

“She’s with Beru,” Owen adds, obviously seeing Anakin’s glance.

“Sure,” he agrees, giving Owen his full attention, already suspecting what this is about. “What is it?”

Owen hesitates slightly, before straightening, meeting Anakin’s gaze head-on, determination and resolve settling over him in the Force. “Look, I know it’s not easy for you right now,” he begins, and it takes all of Anakin’s willpower not to instinctively tense up. “You’ve lost a lot, and… I understand that. I do. But you can’t let it get to you like this when you have a child depending on you, Anakin.”

“I – I’m not…” His voice trails off as words fail him. He doesn’t know to put his thoughts into words, but Owen is waiting patiently, giving him time, and he appreciates that more than he can ever say. “I… had someone,” he says finally, quietly, looking down at the floor. “We were supposed to marry. I have a child now, that I may never meet. I left the galaxy in ruin and ran away. I – I failed everyone, Owen. I can’t – I do not know how to – let go of that.”

“No one is perfect,” his stepbrother offers. “You’re too hard on yourself. You’re only one person. It’s not on you to save the galaxy from its own stupidity. You’re not alone. Don’t forget that. I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it destroy you like this.” He nods to him, the implication clear. Owen doesn’t want to see Anakin turning to alcohol to drown out his problems.

It’s one thing to hear it, but Anakin has no idea how to actually… put it into practice. He has always felt the burden of being the Chosen One, the one destined to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force, the one who would, somehow, make things right. And Anakin has never known how to do that, but that has not stopped him from trying. He always tries – he has to. He is nothing if he does not try and give it his all, even if it destroys him in the process.

“I know,” he replies, a bit belatedly. “Thank you.”

Owen reaches out, unexpectedly, squeezing Anakin’s shoulder. “You don’t like sitting still, staying in one place, do you?”

Anakin makes a face. “I am no longer accustomed to it, after the war.”

He hums. “Shmi said that about you.” They’re both content to pretend that Owen’s voice didn’t waver on the name. “She said that you could never stay still, that she always knew you were meant for something… bigger. Something greater.”

Despite himself, tears prick at Anakin’s eyes, but he swallows down the emotion. “I am no longer certain I am meant for… anything.”

“You’re a Skywalker.” Owen’s tone is a little harsh, sharp, and maybe it stings, but Anakin lets it be, because he knows he needs to hear this. If he can’t keep his head straight, it helps to have someone that he trusts, someone who is family to remind him. “Skywalkers never break. When the masters beat them down, they always stand up and keep going. You know this.”

Anakin blows out a breath, feeling, for the first time, as if the world is settling into place around him. He knows. Of course, he knows. His mother told him that so many times over the years. Having been away from Tatooine, he had… forgotten. It had become less – it was something he did not think about much, and Owen has reminded him of what it was like, to be the slave child who could face anything without bending. That is who he was. He tried to leave that behind, but… in truth, maybe he was always destined to come back here, to the sand and the suns. To survive, he has to become that person again. Resilient.

“I – thank you, Owen,” he whispers. There is so much more that he doesn’t know how to say, more that he doesn’t even need to, because Owen understands.

His stepbrother nods. “It’s nothing,” he answers gruffly. “You need to find a purpose, Anakin, your purpose, wherever that leads you.”

Somehow, those words feel a little ominous. They feel… final.

Chapter Text

The next time Anakin goes to a cantina – because yes, he knows what Owen said, but it's hard, and he has a theory, okay? – it's after he's been experimenting with his awareness of his own body with the Force. He tries shutting it down, tries closing out the Force, to see if that will be enough to let him forget, if only for a moment.

The first shot of alcohol hits him hard, far harder than he thought. It sends his thoughts to spinning dizzily, and he feels a reprieve from everything for only a minute before his control over the Force wavers, letting it flood back in, filling his veins with power and wiping away the alcohol in his system. Well, apparently, his normal, non-Force, human body is very much not alcohol-intolerant. Good to know.

But also, he probably won't be trying this again. It doesn't seem worth it, to drink, only to get a very short moment of peace from the demons in his head.

Instead, he throws himself into working on machines, into furthering his own personal projects. You need to find a purpose, Owen had said, and Anakin knows that he's right. He does. It just… isn't easy. For so long, he has followed the orders of others, and he has become accustomed to it. Even now, after weeks on Tatooine, he has not fully adjusted to being able to make choices of his own – it feels like, at any moment, he'll get a message or mission or something he needs to do. He can do anything now, though, anything at all.

It's unreal.

It's also terrifying.

He takes the freedom – if that is truly what this is – seriously, focusing even more intently on finishing the prototype of the spacesuit. He's gathered most of the pieces already; the only thing left is the pieces for the built-in regulator, and whatever programming he'll have to input into the helmet. Those weren't things that Idhi had been able to get, unfortunately, so Anakin went to Mos Espa for those.

And he's in Mos Espa now. Being here is… hard. The streets, many of them, are so familiar to him, and it feels as if every time he turns a corner, he's running into another ghost of his past. It takes far too long for him to acquire and finish haggling for the pieces with the local Jawas, but finally, he has them. Which means he can finish the suit.

He doesn't know if it's his own desire or something deeper, more subconscious, from the Force, that pushes him to work on it, but it's relaxing. It makes him feel as though he's accomplished something, and he craves that feeling. He needs it, needs to know that he's done something useful, that he's something other than a failure and a coward.

After he finishes the transaction and heads back towards his starfighter-turned-speeder, he passes a cantina on the way. It's one he knows well, because he has been down this street more times than he cares to remember. He has no intention of going in, or even nearby, but then, a faint ripple of distress in the Force draws his attention anyway.

His heart skips a beat when he sees a far-too-familiar Toydarian, wings beating rapidly, hovering in the alley on the side of the cantina. He's speaking to two drunkards – the haziness of their presences, and the way they're swaying a little, is a giveaway – and behind him, pressed up against the wall, cowers a Twi'lek girl. She's in her teens, late teens if Anakin had to guess, and the distress he sensed is coming from her. There's a sickening feeling of lust from the two men, and it all clicks into place, with sinking dread and numb horror.

Memories cavort around the edges of his mind, teasing him with whispers of horrible things that he tries so hard to suppress, things of nightmares. He's breathing too fast, heart hammering as he remembers the unwanted sensation of hands and – and –

Roughly, Anakin shoves away those memories, willing them down to the deepest, darkest parts of his mind where they can't bother him, but he's unable to take his eyes off Watto, off the young slave girl who is about to be sold off to these two monsters.

No.

Not on his watch.

He will not ever stand by and watch someone suffer in that way if he can do something about it. The Dark Side rises in response to his anger, and he doesn't think as he curls his hand into a fist at his side, wrapping the Force around Watto's neck and choking him. The Toydarian flounders, voice cut off, grabbing at his throat, but there's nothing he can do to remove the invisible grip, and his movements falter, slowing, before he falls to the ground in the alley, his life slipping away. Anakin feels nothing as he sees his former owner lying dead.

The two men back away slowly, eyes wide and panicked, as they take in the dead slaver at their feet. They glance towards the Twi'lek girl, before turning and running away, no doubt fearing that they'll be blamed for the death.

Anakin waits a few moments, pulling the Force around himself to make him less obvious as he ducks into the alley where the girl is still standing, her fear pouring into the Force. "You're safe," he tells her quietly, holding out his hands so he doesn't startle her. "It's okay."

"Did – did you… do this?" she whispers, looking at Watto before meeting his eyes.

He reaches out, touching her shoulder lightly, fleetingly, sending a tendril of the Force through her body as he searches for her slave chip. With the Dark as his ally, and the Light waiting for him to call on it, he delves into the mechanism, deactivating it. It can never be used against her now, even if the chip is still inside her body. "You're free," he tells her, stepping back. "Run. You will not die. Find somewhere to go. There are people who will help you." And then, "It would be best, for both of us, if you forget you ever saw me."

She looks at him, understanding in her eyes, as she nods, lekku swishing. "Thank you," she whispers, turning and disappearing into the alley. She'll be fine. She's strong; all slaves are.

Anakin watches her go before turning and going back the way he came, heading back to his small hut to drop off the items he picked up. As he goes, he realizes that it's the first time in days that he feels so calm. He feels… relieved. He saved someone, a slave. He freed her. But he is only one person, and he can't save everyone on this planet, can he? He doesn't know if he's really ready to start another war so soon after escaping his first, either.

He thinks about it late into the night.

***

Even two days later, Anakin is still thinking about it, that feeling of accomplishment he had felt when he saved the Twi'lek. He doesn't know what happened to her, but he has no doubt that she probably escaped to a safe place. And he remembers how, years ago, when he was still a child, he'd had a dream of being a Jedi and coming back to Tatooine to free all the slaves. It had felt like his mission, at the time, the sole reason why he had so ardently hoped to become a Jedi. He had wanted to help people. Even when he left his mother, he had promised her to come back and free her.

But he had been a child. He had not understood the politics, at the time, and what it would mean for him, as a Jedi, to start a war against the Hutts. The Council would never have let him do it, and they discouraged attachment to origins. He would have been castigated for wanting to help the people of his past.

Now? Now, none of that matters anymore. There are no more Jedi. The Order is gone. The Council is gone. There is no one who can stop him from fulfilling his childhood dreams. And yet, he hesitates. He hesitates because he is… afraid. He is afraid. Doing anything now, even if he is free to do so, feels like struggling up a cliff with no support. It feels like climbing up a hill with no top in sight. It feels impossible. He might have the Force as his ally, and he might be the Chosen One, but he is still only one man. And he has Reva to worry about, too. He isn't as free to act as might otherwise be – he will not abandon her, either.

What should I do? He asks the Force as he meditates in the nighttime hours when he can't sleep. What path is the right one for me to take?

By the next morning, Anakin is in Anchorhead, selling some Bantha milk he got from a wild Bantha as well as some water from the Lars homestead to get credits for him and Owen. His mind is still unsettled, unrested, as he struggles to find answers that aren't readily apparently.

Soon, the Force whispers to him, all at once. Wait and watch. Soon.

A disturbance draws his attention minutes later, and he turns towards the source of the shouting to see a young Zabrak boy being beaten by an older near-human male. The boy is in his early teens, and from the tattered clothing he's wearing, as well as the fear and resignation he's radiating into the Force, Anakin realizes that he's probably a slave. An attempted runaway, no doubt. The man knocks him to the ground, kicking him and shouting Huttese obscenities at him, and Anakin feels the familiar surge of protective rage.

People look to the scene, but they look away again, going about their affairs, totally ignoring the plight of the child. It's sickening, and it's then, in that moment, that Anakin knows he has to do something. Sure, he's only one person, but even if only one person wages war, he'll at least save someone. Like that Twi'lek girl who survived a fate worse than death. She's alive and free now.

There are children suffering here, children who are being beaten, children who are dying. And he cannot be true to the name Skywalker, cannot hold up his head and bear that name and its meaning, if he looks away and does nothing in the face of these horrors and injustices. He is not a slave any longer.

He is Anakin Skywalker, and he is free.

Anakin reaches out with the Force, wrapping it around the slaver's neck and crushing. The beating stops abruptly as the man struggles and gasps for air. That, he realizes bitterly, draws even more attention, a few people moving closer as if they could somehow offer the slaver aid. But it's to no avail, of course, and Anakin tightens his telekinetic grip, feeling bones in the man's neck crunch before he lets go. He feels nothing but grim satisfaction as the dead body collapses on the sandy road in the middle of the town.

No one looks at him or suspects anything, and a couple people stop to investigate while the Zabrak slinks away into the shadows to nurse his wounds. Anakin watches him through the Force until he determines that the child has found a safe place before going on his own way.

Like Owen suggested, Anakin has found his purpose again.

He is the Skywalker, the one who will bring freedom as the ancient Tatooinian legends, passed from one generation of slaves to another, have foretold.

***

Reva is sleeping when Anakin finally slips off the mat and creeps from the hut, making his way down the short path to his workshop, which has been carved into the stone, the entrance hidden carefully so no one can see it. All of his miscellaneous projects and jobs are done here, and while Reva knows where it is, she knows not to come in here alone, since there are potentially dangerous things here.

He can't sleep, his mind racing as he calculates and plans his next moves. Now that he knows that he has to act, to fight slavery however he can, he has to figure out how to do so. He cannot let anyone discover his identity, because Sidious will come for him. So, he'll have to be clever, crafty. He will have to hide himself, and luckily, the environmental suit he's been designing will function perfectly as a disguise. And that means he needs to finish it.

Anakin loses track of time as he works feverishly, pulling all of the components together to complete it. He has everything he needs to complete the model he's envisioned. He can start by liberating Tatooine, no matter how long it takes – he will find allies on the way, he knows. And from there, he can go galactic. He can – he can go after Sidious himself. Eventually. In due time. Slavery will not exist in the galaxy on his watch. This – this is what he was born to do.

It must have been hours, and he doesn't remember dozing off, but he must have, because the next thing he knows, he's drifting in a canvas of stars, inky blackness surrounding him on all sides, broken only by the pinpricks of light all around. It's beautiful, breathtaking, and Anakin admires it for a moment, wondering why he's here… wherever here even is.

"Skywalker."

He startles at the voice, because of all the voices he could have heard here, Dooku was not on the list. He's dead, after all. Slowly, Anakin turns, warily, to see the red-tinted translucent apparition of Dooku. He looks, surprisingly, or not, much the same as he did when he died, except he looks strangely peaceful; there is none of the dark maliciousness in him that Anakin sensed when he was alive.

"Dooku," he answers, gesturing to their surroundings. "Why am I here? Did you bring me here?"

"Yes and no," the ghost replies. "I have seen what you are planning, and when you fell asleep, your mind was opened to the Force. I reached out to you, and you answered."

Anakin frowns, caught off guard. He's instantly wary, because he doesn't know what Dooku's angle is. "What do you want?" he asks slowly.

"The Jedi have called you the Chosen One," Dooku says, clasping his hands behind his back. He looks contemplative, and for a brief moment, Anakin wonders if this is what he was like as a Jedi Master: a cool smoky presence, hard but not Dark. "And you are. It is your destiny to bring balance to the Force, but I don't believe you, much less the Jedi, understand what that means."

"And you do?" Yes, he's suspicious. He might regret having killed Dooku in cold-blood, but that doesn't mean he trusts the man.

"Perhaps," Dooku allows. "You were never meant to destroy the Sith, Anakin; that is merely what the Jedi wish to believe. They have been blinded. They do not understand or embrace the Force in its entirety. I have been watching you. I have seen what you have done. You have seen the truth of the Dark; it is dangerous, but not evil."

"Yes," he concedes, "What is it that you want from me? I don't trust you, and I do not understand how this is possible, but I know that this is… really you. Somehow." The Force doesn't lie, and the Force is telling him that this is Dooku, even though he's dead.

"All things are possible through the Force," the ghost tells him. "You yourself are balance. You walk the fine line between the sides of the Force, and you must be cautious so that you don't lose your way. The future of the galaxy depends on it."

Well, now Anakin is worried, because if Dooku is warning him of something? Yes, there is no better time to be concerned. He doesn't know how to reply to that, but then, he doesn't need to, because Dooku keeps speaking.

"When I Fell, it was not out of weakness as the Jedi believe. It was out of a desire to do good, to bring justice. I saw where the Republic and the Order were headed, and… I sought to fix it. I was misled, and I lost my way. Perhaps it is because I realized it, at the end, that the Force let me linger." There is a surprising amount of sincerity in Dooku's voice. He is being genuine and not attempting to manipulate or confuse Anakin as he has in the past. "When I look at you," he continues, "I see the person I once was, but you are… better. You have faced temptation and resisted. You are… stronger." From his expression, it seems to pain him to admit to it.

"But you want something from me," Anakin manages, trying not to think too deeply about the words. He doesn't want to believe that he's anything like Dooku, and yet, if the ghost is to be believed, he truly wanted to help people once upon a time. Much like Anakin now.

"In you, there is a chance for the Sith and the Dark Side to be redeemed," Dooku informs him, eyes solemn. "Through you, all of Palpatine's victims can find justice… and vengeance. You, Skywalker, are the future of the Sith. You can be something new, neither Jedi nor Sith, but a Knight of the Force itself. I give you the name Darth Vader. Use it wisely and use it well. The galaxy is depending on you."

The red-tinted form flickers, fading, and with it, so does the dream, no matter how Anakin grasps at it, trying to linger so he can ask more questions. All of it was so unexpected and sudden that he doesn't know how to begin reacting to it.

When he comes awake, he's slumped over the completed suit. He rises, stumbling from his workshop and returning to the hut where Reva is still sleeping. She rolled over in the night, probably seeking out him, and he settles on the floor next to her, slipping into a light meditative trance as he tries to clear his mind. So much has happened so suddenly, and if even Dooku approves of what Anakin is doing, then he really must be doing something right. It's strange to think of the man's spirit watching him from beyond the grave, and as unsettling as it is, it also makes him feel… strangely protected.

"I am Darth Vader," he whispers, barely audible, but knowing that Dooku will hear him from within the Force, "And I will avenge you."

This is it. This is what he has been working towards, becoming a lone, masked vigilante who will rain death and bloody justice on the heads of the slavers on Tatooine. Masquerading as a Sith, using Dooku's red lightsaber, he can hide who he is. And more than that, he can do it without fearing the Empire. He's no Jedi, and it was the Jedi who have been banned in the Empire, not the Sith, not Force users.

Maybe Dooku deserved to die, but he didn't deserve to die by the order of the man he called master. He was Anakin's first cold-blooded kill, the first he executed, the one who, from a certain point of view, started him down this path.

A little louder, he adds, "I am a Knight of the Force."

And around him, the Force sings, content.

Chapter Text

It’s a full week before Anakin can actually do anything. Freeing slaves sounds simple, but it’s really not when he has to ensure that they can find a safe haven where they can hide. Jabba and the slavers have a durasteel grip on the planet, and it’s important for him to carve out a niche of his own where he can build a network and allies. Probably, he should get into contact with the networks that already exist, and he will, but he wants to start on his own. He doesn’t want to be dependent on anyone else.

He knows that Owen, Beru, and Reva notice that he’s more distracted than usual, but he assures them that he’s fine, and with some persuading, for Reva anyway, they accept it.

Finally, he locates a small settlement a good distance away from any of the others, one which is mostly independent and unbothered by Jabba’s tax people, so long as they pay their taxes. It’s a good place to start, a stronghold from which Anakin can start building his freedom network and amassing forces and allies to free Tatooine as a whole.

On the first night he plans to go out as his new alter ego, Anakin can’t quite hide the nervous anticipation simmering within him. The Dark Side is whispering promises of power, and he lets it seep in slowly as he dons his armor in the workshop once Reva is sleeping. With the safety measures in place, he knows she’ll be secure until he returns.

He’d tested it out, and it works as he had expected it to; it’s space worthy as he’d hoped, and it’s secure, durable, and lightweight enough for him to fight in. Anakin pauses to look at his reflection, at the intimidating figure he poses, attired in all-black armor, pieces fitting together seamlessly to give him an impenetrable defense against the world. The helmet provides him a wide array of information, and it’s equipped with a vocoder to disguise his voice as well as a respirator, should he end up in a place where he needs it.

It’s everything he needs as a vigilante.

With a blaster strapped to his thigh and Dooku’s lightsaber clipped to his belt, Anakin sets out.

For the most part, he’s planning to use this first night to get used to his new persona and the suit that will become the face of his identity. He has to try to be Darth Vader instead of Anakin Skywalker, and the helmet is a mask against the world, giving him a sense of invincibility and security and safety.

Climbing onto a small, unmarked, unremarkable speeder, he sets out.

He goes to Mos Eisley first since it’s decently close, and it’s a large city, large enough for him to patrol in without drawing too much attention. He leaves the speeder on the edges of the town, hidden in a secure location, before he sets out on foot. Because of the darkness of his armor, he blends in with the shadows, and it’s far easier for him to hide than it otherwise would be.

The Force is wrapped around him, as he lurks in the shadows, pulling him towards the spaceport. At first, he doesn’t understand why, until he hears the distant sound of an approaching engine. A large transport is coming in to land, and as he reaches out with the Force, he can feel the pain and misery and resignation emanating from within. A slave ship. He can feel the minds of the slavers within, the cold hardness of them, and he probes their minds lightly to get a read on what their intentions are.

The slaves are Jabba’s, apparently, brought in to be used in his palace or sold in an upcoming auction. When Anakin came out to patrol, he thought he might help a few slaves get away, but this is much more than a few. This is – this is his dream come true.

He steps closer, watching as the transport lands, and as the guards get off, ready to unload their “cargo”. That’s when he strikes. It’s easy for him to reach out with the Force, the Dark Side nipping at his heels, fueled by the pain of the slaves inside, crushing the guards’ necks quickly and quietly, letting their bodies slump to the ground.

Anakin pauses a moment, but the night is still, and no one moves.

Probably, freeing this transport is bound to get Jabba’s attention, but he doesn’t care. These are people, not property. They don’t deserve this. If he doesn’t stand up for those who can’t protect themselves, what good is he? How can he call himself a former Jedi if he doesn’t do what he can to try and help those who are suffering? How can he consider himself a good person if he just stands by and watches? What would his mother think if he walked away and kept his head down?

He enters the ship, hands close to his weapons, though he senses no immediate danger; it’s better to be on the safe side.

The slaves are contained in a cage in the main cargo hold of the ship, and Anakin fights off a wave of nausea when he sees it. Was this how he and his mother were brought here to Tatooine to be sold off? Caged like animals? It fills him with a furious rage, and he clenches his hand, crumbling the locking mechanism with the Force.

Dozens of frightened eyes stare back at him, and the Dark burns in him, demanding payback for the suffering of so many innocents.

“You are safe,” An – Vader says, holding out a hand in a gesture of peace. “The guards are dead. You are free.” He steps back, pulling open the door to the cage, and letting them venture out. They stand huddled together in the main hold, scared and confused.

“Who are you?” asks a man, probably not much older than Anakin himself is. There’s a light in his eyes, a defiance, and Anakin knows that this man hasn’t been enslaved for long.

“I am your savior,” he replies, turning towards the ramp. “Come. Hurry. You must disappear before anyone can find you. I will cover your traces. I know a place where you will be safe.”

“Why are you doing this?” questions a young teenage girl. Her wide, frightened eyes are light blue, and they remind him so much of Ahsoka, that his heart clenches. “Why do you care?”

“I have been where you are,” Anakin tells her, tells all of them, “And I will help those who I can for as long as I am able.”

They exchange looks, quiet murmurs passing between them before the man who spoke first steps forward, the self-appointed leader. “Name’s Cobb Vanth, and we –” he gestures to encompass all the slaves who are present, “– Are grateful to you, whoever you are.”

“I am doing my duty,” Anakin states solemnly, because to him, that’s what it is. He glances around the inside of the ship again, before pointing to the smaller ground transport that had obviously been intended to transport the “cargo” to its destination. “Take that.” He plucks a small datachip from his belt, activating it, handing it to Cobb. “This is a map. The coordinates of the safe place are contained within it. Memorize it.”

He watches as the freed slaves clammer into the transport, huddling down together, feelings of tentative hope piercing through the cloud of darkness that had once been drowning the ship. Cobb hands the datachip back to him with a quiet nod, sliding into the pilot’s seat of the transport, and firing up the engines.

Anakin waits as they leave, waits until they’re out of sight, disappearing into the night, before planting explosives inside the starship, primed to explode when the pressure sensor on the ramp is triggered. Tomorrow morning, when Jabba sends his goons to locate the rogue ship, it will detonate in a massive fireball. He smirks to himself as he steps back and surveys his handiwork, the rigged ship and dead bodies of the guards scattered on the ground. It will be a fitting message to the Hutts, a warning that their reign of slavery, death, and despair is coming to an end.

Darth Vader will be coming for them.

***

When Anakin returns to the hut, it’s with a sense of fulfilment that he hasn’t felt since the last battle he fought in the Clone Wars. And he doesn’t know how to feel about that. He – because of the war, especially, he knew he’d be far more comfortable in war; that’s how he was raised. Sometimes, it feels as though he’s known no other life, but it’s so against everything the Jedi teach – everything the Jedi taught, that is, and it… Looking back, he can see that what the Jedi did, did not exactly or entirely align with what they taught.

Maybe it’s for the best, then, that he’s on his own. He can make his own decisions now. He can learn to follow the will of the Force above everything else; that is what the Jedi were supposed to do, after all. But it’s hard. He doesn’t know if it ever won’t be hard. He’s used to war and to fighting, even killing, though he’s never been fond of it. Making the transition to find another way… He doesn’t know if he can do it, doesn’t know if he’s even supposed to do it. Maybe this is really what the Force wants him to do.

But despite his questions and uncertainties, Anakin knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that fighting slavery and freeing slaves is the right thing to do. Perhaps he’ll have to stain his hands with blood, but it’s for a good cause. It’s for the greater good. Those people deserve better, and he will not abandon his people again.

A tendril of distress echoing into the Force pulls Anakin from his musings, and he hurries into the hut, going to Reva’s side. She’s tossing and turning, expression scrunched with obvious upset, and he reaches out to touch her shoulder lightly, calling her name. “Reva. Reva, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. Reva.”

She awakens with a gasp, jolting and rolling over onto her back. A quiet whimper escapes, and she pushes herself upright, trembling.

“It’s okay,” Anakin whispers again, soothingly, reaching out to run a hand over her hair.

A strangled sob escapes from her, and she throws herself into his arms. He pulls her close, stroking her back and murmuring comforting words to her as she finally calms down from the terror of whatever it was that she’d been seeing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he queries gently, after some minutes have passed, and her trembling and tears have mostly abated into exhaustion.

Her breathing hitches again, and she burrows closer, clinging to him. “I – I was at the Temple,” she says, her voice shaking a little as she speaks, “A-and – and instead of… the – the guard who – who –” She can’t say the rest of it, and Anakin holds her tighter.

He knows that, even if he healed her from the injury, that doesn’t mean it’s been forgotten. The moment still haunts her, and he can’t even imagine it, can’t imagine knowing what it feels like to have a lightsaber blade cut through him and walking away from it. I’m sorry, he wants to say, though apologies will change and fix absolutely nothing. I’m sorry. I should have protected you from it. I should have stopped him. I should have saved them.

But again, regrets fix nothing.

“It – it was – it was you, and I....” She trails off, shuddering, crying, and Anakin feels his heart break a little for her, something inside of him twisting uncomfortably. It feels significant, and he doesn’t know why.

“You’re okay,” Anakin whispers against her hair, cradling her against him. “You’re okay, Reva. You’re safe here. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Maybe he should be careful about making promises so readily, but he – he has to give her something, and Reva needs reassurance right now. She’s just a child. She shouldn’t have to fear for her life every single moment. It’s Anakin’s responsibility to keep her safe and protect her from threats, and he’ll do that for as long as he’s able. But it also means that he needs to be extremely careful, because given what he’s doing, it could draw attention.

It will draw attention, and Anakin has to be ready for it. He’s always been a good strategist though, and he knows the risks of what he’s doing. He knows that if he’s not careful, if he makes even one misstep, it will bring Sidious down on him. The Sith Master is looking for him, and he’ll probably never stop. Anakin, and his family, by default, will never be fully safe in the galaxy until he’s dead and gone. But that is a goal for the future, when he has the allies and resources to attempt something… bigger.

For now, he has to focus on this planet, on his people. He can’t reveal himself too much, can’t let it become definite, public knowledge that there’s a Sith here until he’s ready for the fight that will come. And he will be ready, but not… yet. Not yet. For now, he’ll keep to the shadows. He’ll let Vader be a ghost story, a myth. The galaxy is a big place, and Sidious has no reason to watch the goings on or unrest on Tatooine any more than he would any of the other thousands of planets out there.

The shadows and darkness will be his mask just as much as his helmet is. Subterfuge and stealth are things Anakin has grown to excel at because of the war. He can do this. He just needs to trust the Force and his instincts. They’ve never failed him before.

But he won’t worry about any of that right now, no matter how hard it is for him to put aside his own worries of the future in favor of caring for the child in his arms. Reva is his daughter as much as Ahsoka was, as much as his own child with Padme is, and he – he owes it to her to be present with her, to focus on her. He wants to give her the care and protection that he was never able to give Ahsoka because of the war and the Code. He wants to give her the world.

“You’re safe,” he tells her again, as she relaxes against him, slowly but surely, “I’ll keep you safe. I would never hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Reva finally whispers, sounding half-asleep, “Yeah, I know.”

***

The next morning, in front of dozens of shocked onlookers, the ship denotes into a massive fireball in the spaceport. The explosion rocks the ground, and the smoke is seen across much of Mos Eisley.

And though most do not yet know it, it marks the beginning of the war.

***

Sidious always knew that the Empire would not form overnight. It was a gradual process that began before the Clone Wars started, and it will continue for some time after. But it is not proceeding as he had hoped, either. He’d though it would be… a little smoother. The galaxy ought to be settling down into the new system, adjusting, no matter how reluctantly. And it is, somewhat, but in many ways, the chaos only seems to be worse than it was during the war.

The Senate is restless. The people are restless. Systems, primarily those which were once part of the Separatists, are restless.

It would have been better if he’d gotten his chosen apprentice on his side. It’s still workable, of course, but it’s not ideal by any means, and Sidious finds that he’s only becoming increasingly on edge about it, his temper on a short fuse. But without Skywalker as an apprentice – or even controllable; because yes, even if what he had planned worked out, just not on Skywalker, that doesn’t mean it’ll be sustainable for someone of Skywalker’s power – things have… become a little messy.

He needs the boy dead. He’s too strong, too rogue, and simply put, he’s too dangerous to be left alive. It’s such a waste after all the time and effort Sidious put into him, but it’ll be better to cut his losses now and move on rather than try to contain a krayt dragon in his home, so to speak. He needs to find the boy, but that’s easier said than done.

The galaxy is in turmoil, and even with all of his resources, he doesn’t have the skillsets necessary to launch a galactic search for Skywalker. The Inquisitors are dealing with the many surviving Jedi who are scattered all over, and he’s already begun the process of phasing out the clone troopers and replacing them with more cost-effective and easily disposable enlisted troopers.

And through it all, Skywalker has remained… elusive.

He had thought the boy would gravitate to staying near his family, near Amidala and his child, but there have been no signs of him, and Sidious in uncertain that he’s even in contact with them. Certainly, he could have the Senator arrested for some reason, the child seized, but what good would that do? Skywalker wouldn’t hear of it, and he wouldn’t come. Better to leave the children on Naboo where they can remain until they’re old enough to be of use to him, and he will work on contingencies in the event that the boy comes after him again.

After what happened the first time, he cannot afford to be so caught off guard again. His master has studied the workings of the Force, false ways of increasing power, and perhaps he should look back into that research again.

But with the Inquisitors busy, and his temporary apprentice attempting, and miserably failing, at commanding the armies, much less gaining their respect – he’s weak and useless, and if no one even respects him, Sidious doesn’t see him being able to ensure their military is strong any time in the near future – he needs to get someone else to hunt down Skywalker. A large search party will be easily noticeable, and the boy will catch wind of it in much the same way any wild animal might, disappearing into the shadows before Sidious can ever find his trail.

He won’t send a search party.

He’ll send one person.

With that thought in mind, he reaches for his comm, inputting the frequency of an assassin that he’s used in the past, one who he knows is loyal to him, and him alone. The Inquisitors will never be strong enough to deal with Skywalker, so perhaps Sidious can train someone himself who can be.

Chapter Text

The so-called “freedom” network has always existed on Tatooine in some form or other, and Jabba has done his best to squash it time and again. It hurts business, but no matter how many resources he throws at it, it still perseveres, like a pesky thorn that won’t go away.

And then, the Shadow came.

The Shadow, who’s identity is unknown to this day, who has scared – and killed – some of the best of Jabba’s men. The Shadow, who is building a secret, untraceable network, who is rallying people to rise up and cast off their chains. The Shadow, who is known solely as the Shadow, a masked vigilante in black armor who strikes in the dead of night, killing indiscriminately and stealing slaves away. Jabba and the Tatooinian business class hate – and admittedly fear – him. The slaves revere him. It makes them… rebellious. Already, he’s had to replace his slave girl when the previous one tried to kill him with her chain.

It had not gone well for her, but the fact that she had tried –

The slaves are growing restless, defiant, and Jabba needs to do something about it before the situation gets too far out of hand. He’s assigned his best people to it, hired outside bounty hunters with a million-credit reward for anyone who can successfully track and eliminate the Shadow.

But the Shadow, it seems, actually is a shadow.

No traces of him can be found during the day; it could be anyone, anyone at all, and Jabba is not ignorant of the fear that many have, wondering if the Shadow is someone close to them, someone they know. No one survives the Shadow except the slaves who sing his praises, and there’s no way of knowing what is the truth and what is merely legend.

Despite the increasing pressure, the Shadow is still out there, still working, and it makes Jabba angry, because this is his territory. This – this Shadow has no place here, and he looks forward to the day when it can be crushed once and for all. Maybe when the slaves see that the myths are exaggerated, that their so-called “savior” is nothing more than another, very mortal, fraud, they will summit and stop fighting. They only make it harder for themselves when they resist, after all.

Almost every slave owner’s death is being attributed to the Shadow now, whether in daylight or not, and this whole thing is getting majorly out of hand. Some are now claiming he’s a Jedi, because they claim it’s the only thing which can explain the inexplicable deaths by choking that happen sometimes during the day. It needs to be dealt with. Jabba cannot allow the Empire to get involved – because he knows they would do it in a heartbeat if they could claim jurisdiction. This is his territory. He doesn’t want the Empire here.

Only one sighting of the Shadow has been verified to date, several weeks ago, in the aftermath of an attack on a transport carrying slaves to Mos Espa from Mos Eisley.

The witness spoke of a man in black armor, wielding a blood-red sword, cutting through the guards as though it was nothing, and when the resistance grew, he become the eye of a storm. In the blink of an eye, the sand stirred around him, whipping into a whirlwind, red lightning crackling, the storm not quite loud enough to drown out the screams of the guards as they died. When it was over, the slaves were all gone along with the Shadow, leaving the transport on fire, bodies strewn all over the ground.

Jabba knows the Jedi; he worked with them sometimes during the Clone Wars, and he knows that the Shadow is no Jedi. No Jedi would mete out such violence on others. It actually reminds him of Maul, when he came to Tatooine during the war, seeking an alliance, and though Jabba is unwilling to say it aloud, he is beginning to wonder if the Shadow is actually a Sith. And that is something he cannot allow to reach the Empire under any circumstances whatsoever.

He needs to crush this Shadow once and for all, and to do it, he’ll need more resources. And he knows just where to get them.

***

Padme hears the whispers from Sabe, late in the evening one day when she’s recovering from a long, tiresome Senate session. She’s still in the Senate, still tirelessly fighting for justice and for freedom, fighting with Riyo Chuchi for the clones, fighting to give them rights, especially now that the Empire is considering replacing them with enlisted troopers in the wake of Kamino’s fall. She’s fighting, but it feels like it’s going nowhere. It feels like she should be doing more.

She has hardly seen her children, except over holos when she calls Sola and her parents, and she misses them fiercely. Whenever she feels herself begin to falter, begin to question if all of this is worth it, she takes out a picture of them, of her twins, staring at their faces as she reminds herself why she’s doing this. She’s doing this for them. She will do anything for them, to protect them from Palpatine. She will not let him take them or hurt them.

“I’m still in communication with some of my contacts on Tatooine,” Sabe tells her, combing through her hair as she prepares to put it into a simple braid for bed, “And I’ve been hearing more and more rumors of… someone. They call him the Shadow. He’s killing slavers, freeing slaves, rallying the people to stand up to Jabba. We’ve gotten a lot of freed people coming through the network who are being transported off-world.”

Her heart lurches, skipping a beat, and for a moment, she can’t breathe.

Once, years ago, Anakin had told her of his dream to return to Tatooine, to free the slaves there. It had been his most ardent desire, something he’d wished for deeply, and it was because of that, because of him, that Padme had sent Sabe there after her terms as Queen were over. Sabe had helped where she could, alternating between helping on Tatooine and helping her as her handmaid and best friend.

“It’s him,” Padme whispers, reaching up to touch the japor snippet that’s around her neck. She’s carried it with her everywhere, and now especially, because it brings her comfort. It reminds her of the man she loves more than anything except her children. “It’s Anakin.”

She meets Sabe’s eyes in the mirror, sees the half-smile on her best friend’s face. “Yeah,” she agrees, “I had wondered that, too.”

“We can’t let the word get out,” Padme says, voice level and hard. “We cannot let Palpatine hear any rumors of this.”

Sabe squeezes her shoulder. “Already on it. I knew it had to be a Jedi, even if it wasn’t Anakin, and I’ve given instructions. The network is working to keep the rumors down, to add embellishments and Tatooinian myths to them. The Empire should not pay it any mind. They’re too busy, anyway, with all the unrest.”

“Good,” Padme replies fervently, passionately. “Let’s keep them busy, if we can. Let’s keep them away from Anakin.”

***

It’s been weeks since Obi-Wan has come to Alderaan. Weeks and weeks and weeks, and it feels more like years than the three or four months that it’s actually been. He has, admittedly, somewhat lost track of time. He has helped Bail when he can, offered whatever aid to the Organas that he’s able. He’s so… restless. He has nothing here, nothing to do except exist, and after the war, it’s not something he’s accustomed to anymore.

He promised Anakin that he would watch over Anakin’s family, but it’s hard to do that from afar, hard when he knows that being in their vicinity would be more likely to bring harm to them than anything else. But Obi-Wan is tired of hiding; he wants to act. He wants to help, to cause as much trouble for Sidious as he can, to let him know that he’s still out here, still fighting. These feelings, this anger, is of the Dark Side, and he works hard to let it go to the Force, but that, too, is hard when the Force itself is so dark. It still feels of death, even weeks later.

He’s angry, and he can’t lie to himself that he doesn’t want revenge for the destruction of the Jedi Order, even if many Jedi survived, thanks to Anakin.

Obi-Wan needs to do something, and he says as much to Bail, on one of the Senator’s trips back to Alderaan when they speak about the state of the galaxy.

“You are not the only Jedi to feel that way,” Bail informs him. “All over the galaxy, there have been various rumors and reported sightings of Jedi who are carrying out attacks on Imperial bases. For now, there are only a handful of them, a few dozen, but it shows the beginnings of a major problem for the Empire. Insurgents they can kill, but Jedi are notoriously difficult to eliminate in such a way.”

“Are these sightings real?” Obi-Wan queries, hope stirring in his chest. He is not one of the last of his people, and he knows that, but sometimes, he can’t help but feel alone.

“Some of them are, yes,” Bail replies. “Some, I imagine, are fake, but we have validated reports of an unknown vigilante with a blue lightsaber who has been taking out Imperial bases in different sectors.”

Blue.

Anakin.

“Is it –?” he begins, hardly even daring to hope.

Bail knows what he’s asking without him even having to finish the question. “I don’t know,” he answers, shaking his head. “Blue is not exactly an uncommon lightsaber color, though, so we have no reason to suspect it’s him.” He pauses, the briefest hesitation that makes Obi-Wan wonder if he does think it’s Anakin, even so, but he just doesn’t want to get Obi-Wan’s hopes up. “Some… Imperial chatter indicates it could be him, and we’ve assembled a file on what is known of this particular individual as well as other suspected targets that he’s hit.”

He sets a datapad on the table, sliding it across to Obi-Wan. “This is what we’ve been able to ascertain.”

Obi-Wan picks it up, staring down at the screen, half-reaching for the button to turn it on before stopping. “So you do think it’s him,” he states, a myriad of emotions beginning to rise up in his chest at the prospect of being able to find Anakin, of being able to see him again. Anakin wanted him to keep his distance, because he thought it would be dangerous, and he’s probably right, but the one thing Obi-Wan is certain of is that he’ll never truly be able to stay away from Anakin.

He had thought they’d be parted on his mission to Cato Neimoidia, since it was right after Anakin’s Knighting, and he had felt so… lost, almost, without Anakin at his side. But Anakin came back, came to save him, even if he did not need it, and he proved then that nothing could keep them apart. They were always meant to be together.

The same is true now, and Obi-Wan has every intention of investigating this lead, of seeing if this mysterious blue lightsaber wielding vigilante is really Anakin like he half thinks and hopes, and if it is… he will join him.

He’s been in hiding for long enough.

***

“I know you’re doing something at nights.” Beru’s voice makes Anakin freeze in place, which he realizes a moment later only makes him look guilty.

“I – why would you think that?” he deflects. He still hasn’t told them what he’s been doing. At first, it was because he wanted to do it on his own, but later, it became about safety. He was afraid, once his network started growing, once he became more popular, once he got the nickname of the Shadow, that if they knew, it would put them in danger, and admittedly, he wasn’t sure how to even begin explaining everything, either.

“I know you were a Jedi,” she replies, a little amused, “And you must have heard the rumors of the Shadow.”

Yes.

He has.

He’s also been trying to avoid looking at them too much, since he doesn’t really want to listen to all of the hero worship that he’s been getting. Still, the knowledge that so many slaves consider him a beacon of hope is… uplifting, soothing. It comforts him to know that he’s been helping people, especially after his failure with the Jedi. It’s made him more confident in himself, in his ability to help. It’s been just what he needed, having something to do which will help while simultaneously letting him remain in the shadows, unseen. He’s never wanted to be the center of attention, and it makes him uncomfortable. What he wants is to – to be recognized by the people close to him. He’s only ever wanted to be good enough for them.

“Yeah,” he answers, a little sheepishly, because the secret is out, and there’s no use in continuing to hide it. “I – I’m the Shadow.”

It feels so freeing to admit to it, and he’s more than a little taken aback when she moves to him, hugging him tightly. “Shmi would be proud,” she whispers, before stepping back, “So proud, and I am, too.”

He flushes, ducking his head, completely overwhelmed by the praise. He hadn’t expected it. The gratitude he’s gotten from the slaves he has freed has been enough, more than enough, and he… he knew Owen and Beru would be glad that he’s doing what he is, but not – not like this, and it makes something inside of him curl up happily. He has a family now, people who care about him, and sometimes, it’s hard for him to remember that. He doesn’t have to do everything alone. He doesn’t have anything to prove to them.

He was used to being that way with his mother, but after he went to the Temple, that changed somehow, somewhere along the way, and it’s not something he particularly cares to look at. This is enough.

“I need your help,” she says, “On a mission. I need you to meet with a member of the Trail, as the Shadow probably.” A pause, “Although they would like to know who you are, too. Jabba has been raising taxes for the moisture farmers, and it’s been rough for all of us. I – they’re going to be coming here next, and we can use some of the funds the Trail is planning on seizing, but they’ll need your help to get them.”

Anakin sobers at her words because he’s heard it, too. He knows of the burden that’s been placed on the moisture farmers and how much they’re struggling now. He feels guilt for it, because he knows that it’s because of him, because of the Shadow, because of Vader. They’re hurting, and he needs to fix it if he can. Ideally, that would mean taking the fight to Jabba, but he doesn’t think he’s ready for that, not for the politics that will be involved.

“Of course, I’ll go,” he promises her.

He leaves that night, heading out towards the rendezvous point that Beru gave to him, and when he arrives, there are two figures there who meet him. When he sees them, feels them in the Force, his heart drops to his stomach in shock, because he knows them. He knows them. Kitster and Wald, his best friends when he was growing up here on Tatooine. He hadn’t known what had happened to them, and he would never have guessed that they’d become important leading figures in the Trail.

The duo relax a little when they see him, but he can still sense their curiosity and awe as they study the imposing figure that he makes, cloaked in armor and shadows, anonymous. “Beru said you were coming,” Kitster states at last. “I didn’t ask how she got into contact with you.”

“That is for the best,” Anakin replies. He should tell them who he is; he knows they would be relieved to see him, to know what he’s doing, but he hesitates, because the more people who know, the greater the risk is. Until Tatooine is secure, he cannot go around telling others of his identity. It isn’t safe for them or him or Reva.

Kitster nods, taking it in stride, and they move out towards the edge of a cliff ridge overlooking the valley beneath where the transport will be coming, carrying the money that Jabba has looted from the people. They’ll return what they can and use the rest to help the Trail.

He feels uneasy though, on edge, and he can’t quite say why. The Force is… restless.

But then, the transport comes, and Anakin doesn’t have time to dwell on what he senses, too focused on killing the guards who are accompanying the transport and helping Kitster and Wald acquire the credits inside. It’s easy; he could do it in his sleep. He’s done far harder things during the war. And when it’s over, the credits secured, Anakin feels it.

The Force shifts, a warning of danger, though it’s not centered near him, and there’s a flare of panic through his bond with Reva before everything quiets. He reaches for her, but her presence is dimmed with unconsciousness.

“Something has happened,” he tells the other two. “I must leave at once.”

“Thank you for your aid, and for everything you have done,” Kitster says to him, his gratitude echoing into the Force. “Do you have a name?”

“Vader,” Anakin answers. “I am Vader.”

He turns, using the Force to enhance his speed as he climbs up the ridge to his waiting speeder, gunning the engine and speeding away across the desert. It feels like it takes hours before he arrives at the Lars homestead, and the sound of the speeder brings Owen from inside, his rifle raised, though he lowers it when he sees Anakin.

“What has happened?” Anakin demands, ripping off his helmet, his own panic rising when he realizes that he doesn’t sense Reva here. “Where is she? I felt something.”

“Jabba sent his tax collectors,” Owen replies, regret and anger warring on his face. “I told them I’d be able to pay them tomorrow, but they didn’t care. They – they took Reva and shot Beru. She’ll be fine,” he hastens to add, “Thanks to Reva. She – she used the Force to save her. They know.”

His panic of before is nothing compared to the raw terror that he feels now, knowing that Jabba has taken Reva, that they know she has the Force. They’ll sell her into slavery or hand her over to the Empire, and neither option is one that Anakin is willing to stand for. Not Reva. He brought her here, where he thought he could protect her, and… he failed.

The Dark Side rises in response to his fear, his fear shifting to anger as the initial shock wears off, nipping at him, whispering promises of power, and for the first time since the Temple, since the Senate, since he fought Palpatine, Anakin lets go entirely. It floods him with a rush, curling greedily inside of him, filling him with a power that he’ll need.

“I’m going to get her back,” he says, voice eerily calm. He knows his eyes have bled yellow, or maybe even red, but he doesn’t care. Jabba will die for this.

He took Reva.

He took Reva.

Nothing else matters.

Chapter Text

“Wait,” Owen calls as Anakin pulls his helmet on, turning back towards the speeder, “Is it really safe for you to go alone? If you wait a few hours, I can contact other members of the Trail. We can launch an attack, provide a diversion for you to get in and out without being seen.”

He hesitates for only a moment, knowing what it will mean if he goes there, if he goes in through the front door. He’s the Shadow. The cover works because he’s a shadow, elusive, anonymous. If he’s seen by people other than slaves, by Jabba or his goons, he’ll be outed. It’ll be more obvious that he’s a Jedi, or at least a former Jedi, and the game will be up. If he goes in through the front, which is the only way for him to get Reva back on his own, he’ll have to kill everyone.

Everyone.

Only the slaves will be able to survive.

It’ll be a slaughter, and Anakin hesitates, because he doesn’t know if he should really go that far, but the Dark Side gives him the answer. Do it, it whispers, the coldness of it sending power humming through his fingertips, ready to obey his every command. Do it. The Dark demands blood. It demands pain and suffering and death, and Anakin is willing to feed it, to give it the lives of Jabba and his goons, if it means Reva will be safe.

He’ll do anything for her, even burn down the planet, and that level of protectiveness should scare him, but it doesn’t. Once, he would have done the same for Obi-Wan, for Ahsoka, for Rex or his boys, for Padme. And maybe even for Aayla. In truth, he knows that he would do the same for them even now.

He can figure out the details later, but for now, he knows what he has to do.

It’s time to take this all the way to the top.

It is time for Jabba to die.

“She can’t wait,” Anakin answers, the vocoder hiding the fear in his voice, but he knows Owen can feel it all the same. “I cannot leave her there, to suffer.”

“I understand,” Owen replies, nodding, acceptance in his voice and eyes. “I’ll get the Trail, bring them in to get the slaves out. Let’s end this.” A pause, and then, “It’s past time anyway. Go. Bring her home.”

Anakin inclines his head, swinging onto the speeder and flying away, following Reva’s trail, going to Jabba’s palace. He won’t get there until daybreak, but it seems fitting that the Shadow’s first major attack would be in the daylight.

Once it’s all over, he can do damage control.

Saving Reva comes first. It always will.

***

Hours earlier

Reva is half asleep when she feels the tremor in the Force whispering of danger, and she’s up in a flash, scrambling from the room before she even fully registers the need to move. Anakin isn’t here. He’d mentioned that he had something to take care of for Beru, something… illegal, if she had to guess, based on the way he’d worded it, and that worries her, because he’s gone, and there’s danger coming.

“Something’s wrong,” Reva blurts out, startling Owen and Beru where they’re conversing in quiet, hushed voices. “Something’s coming.”

They trust her instincts, and she feels a small flare of gratitude and affection for them when he goes to the other side of the room, drawing a rifle and blaster, passing the latter to Beru, before giving her a look. “Jabba’s sending out his tax collectors,” he tells her, not one to mince words. It makes her feel better that he’s not treating her like a hapless child. Anakin is very similar, but not… quite. Owen is straight-forward, and she likes that about him, just as much as she likes Anakin’s gentleness. She loves all of them; they’re her family.

“Reva, go back to your room,” Beru tells her, voice calm and even, though she knows the coming danger. “Stay there. If something happens, escape through the window and go hide.”

She balks at that. “I’m not gonna leave you here!”

“It’s our job to protect you,” Owen answers firmly, “And we need you to listen.”

She doesn’t want to, and she hopes it won’t come to that, but she obediently goes back to her room. And waits.

And waits.

And when she feels the approaching Force presences of people, hears the harsh voices, she creeps to the door, trying to listen, picking out muffled words about “taxes” and “credits”, Owen trying to convince them to come back tomorrow when he collects the payment.

They don’t take no for an answer though, and she hears them force their way into the home. She should run. She knows she should run, because it would be safer, but she’s frozen in place, memories of what happened at the Temple flickering on the edges of her mind. The danger comes closer, and it spurs her into motion. She scrambles to the window, shoving it open, and using the Force to scramble out, glancing back as she makes a break for the desert, for the safe place that she knows of there.

A blaster shot tears past her head, and she yelps, startled, scrambling back, as two large men cut her off. They’d been watching the homestead, maybe expecting someone to escape, she doesn’t know, but she can’t –

One of them grabs her, drags her back to the homestead, and she’s panicking too much to try and fight back or break free. Besides, she can’t openly use the Force since it’s not safe. Owen is attempting to dissuade the men from doing anything, but he cuts off mid-word when she’s dragged up, eyes widening with unmistakable fear.

“She was trying to run,” the man says roughly, shoving her forward a step.

She twists in his grip, trying to hit him and break free, using what she’s learned from Anakin. The blow she lands makes him grunt, and he pushes her hard, sending her stumbling to her knees. Beru starts forward, hands tight on a small blaster hidden in the shadows of her dress, face hard and angry.

“Take the girl for insurance,” orders the leader, and Reva chokes on a gasp, because no, no, they can’t take her they can’t –

It all happens so fast.

Beru raises her blaster to fire, but one of the men is faster, and it’s going to be a kill shot, Reva knows. She reacts without thinking, throwing up a hand to push Beru back, enough that the shot only hits her shoulder and not her chest, because that’s her aunt, and she’s not going to stand by and just watch her die.

Everything freezes, and one of the man curses, throwing a bunch of Huttese slurs in her direction, and she’s grabbed and yanked backwards. “Jedi kid,” says one of the others. “Jabba will like to hear this.”

“Let her go!” yells Owen, but he’s pushed backward by the end of a blaster, a second pointedly waved in a fallen Beru’s direction before Reva is dragged, kicking and flailing from the homestead.

“Lemme go!” she shouts, biting the arm of the man holding her. He hisses, but doesn’t release her, unfortunately. “My dad’s gonna make you regret this!”

They only laugh at her. “No one can save you anymore, girl,” he mocks. “We know what you are, and the Empire will pay a handsome bounty for locating a thing like you.”

A thing. She’s not a thing!

A blaster fires, a stun bolt slamming into her and jolting her unconscious before she can think up a suitably scathing response, and her last thought before darkness blacks her out is ‘Anakin will come for me.’

***

The first sun is just starting to rise when Anakin gets to Jabba’s palace. He parks his speeder a distance away, behind a rocky outcropping, before he activates the scanner inside his helmet to get an idea of what he’s up against. Unsurprisingly, the heat signatures reveal that most of the people inside are in one place. Probably, Jabba is in his throne room with his goons, the majority sleeping given the time of day.

Good.

It’s the perfect time for the Shadow, for Vader to make his first major public appearance.

He wants to charge in, but first, he reaches for Reva. He can’t rush in there, not like he would have if he was alone, or if this was during the war. Reva’s only a child. She isn’t Ahsoka. He has to… be careful. She’s conscious, but her Force presence is dim, indicating that she’s probably been put into Force restraints. It makes him angry. Angrier, that is, and the need to destroy is slowly rising up inside of him in much the same way it did when he went after Palpatine. He’s losing control, but it – if he stays realistic about his abilities and limits, he’ll be fine. Jabba deserves to die. All of them do. They’re slavers, scum of the worst level, and with them gone, Tatooine can be free.

Anakin – Vader, for that is who he is now, jumps from his hiding spot, landing lightly in the sand in front of the palace, stalking towards the door. He doesn’t wait for anyone to admit him, instead reaching out with the Force and using it to unlock the mechanism and force it open. Slowly, it rises, and he stalks inside.

The halls are dark, lit only by a few torches along the walls, and he moves towards the throne room, meeting no resistance at first, until two Gamorrean guards approach, blocking his path. They’re wielding axes, as is normal for them, but these are different. They’re make of phrik – a metal that Vader only recognizes because it’s used in electrostaffs, and he fended off those many times during the Clone Wars – and they have blades that very much resemble… lightsabers. When he pauses, listening, he can hear the song of the kyber crystals inside, and it makes him angry, because those crystals were looted from dead Jedi. Using them, especially like this, in a place such as this, is wrong.

Lightaxes, then?

He’s never seen such a thing, or heard of them, but it makes sense that Jabba would have them, especially since he’s afraid of the Shadow, no doubt.

“Stand down, Shadow,” demands one of the guards, but he’s leaking fear into the Force, concealed under false bravado.

Vader doesn’t even bother to draw his lightsaber, not for them, lifting a hand and clenching it, stepping aside easily when one of them swings the blue-bladed axe towards him in a haphazard manner before dropping it as he clutches at his neck. The female has dropped her own gold blade as she, too, struggles fruitlessly for air. With a tightening of his telekinetic grip, their necks break, and he drops their bodies to the ground, stepping over them as he moves deeper into the palace.

The next to approach him is Bib Fortuna, Jabba’s majordomo, and Vader feels the pit of rage within him only increase. He flicks a hand, hurling the Twi’lek into the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious as he storms forward. Fortuna could have used his influence to help other slaves, but instead, he’s only used it for himself. He deserves to die, and die he shall, but he’s the most likely to take charge after Jabba dies, so Vader needs him alive… for now.

Because of how early in the morning it is, most of the rest of the walk to the throne room is quiet, and the stragglers that Vader encounters are immediately killed. It only fuels his bloodlust, making him and the Dark Side crave the violence that is yet to come, a building storm simmering in his blood.

A revolution is at hand.

He steps down the stairs into the throne room slowly, moving casually with the air of someone who knows he has already won. This is just for show. The outcome has already been decided, no matter that he’ll be facing down dozens of armed individuals inside. The Force is with him, and he will come out on the other side unscathed, at least relatively.

When his booted feet hit the floor, it sends a faint echo through the room, and if that wasn’t enough to draw the attention of those slumbering inside, the snap-hiss of Dooku’s red lightsaber is. There’s a moment of stillness, as Jabba and his goons realize just who is present, and then, everything descends into absolute madness.

And Vader loves every bit of it.

He throws himself into the fray, deflecting blaster bolts that are fired, using the Force to shove back his opponents, blocking them from swarming him, as he cuts through them all. They are here, and they are fighting, and they will die for it. Everyone in this room, aside from the slaves, will die here.

A blaster bolt catches him from behind, from someone who was injured but not quite dead apparently, hitting him in the shoulder, and the resulting pain that shoots down his arm makes something snap inside of him.

They took Reva.

They would have enslaved her the way he had been, the way Jabba’s slave girl is now, and he just… loses it.

The lightning comes unbidden, a blinding red energy crackling down the blade as he aims it at the mercenaries on the other side of the room who are trying to flee, sending them writhing to the floor. No one is leaving. There is no escape for them, for any of them.

The fight goes on, and it’s easy with the Force as his ally, and then, all at once, it’s over.

The room is quiet, filled with the faint groans of the dying, the only living beings who are still alive – the slaves fled already, and Vader let them go – are Jabba and the girl that is chained to him. It’s not until now that he actually looks at her, and his blood runs cold, because… he knows her. He knows her.

Aayla Secura, a Force-dampening collar around her neck, her skimpy outfit hardly even concealing her body, is the one who is chained to Jabba. He blinks, but she doesn’t disappear, and he feels frozen for a moment, just staring at her, another Jedi survivor who somehow came to be here, of all places, before he turns to Jabba, leveling the red blade at his neck.

“It is over,” he proclaims, “I win.”

Jabba cowers back in fear, a fear that makes the Dark – and him, too – curl with glee, but he knows he’s done for. There is no escape from the Shadow; there never was. “Who are you?” he demands in Huttese, and it’s a fair request, for him to want to know the name or face of the man who is ending his rule. “Why are you doing this?”

Vader – Anakin extinguishes the blade, hooking it to his belt as he reaches up and removes his helmet, showing his face for the first time. “Guess,” he says mockingly, seeing out of the corner of his eye, the way Aayla’s eyes widen with shock.

Jabba blinks at him, and he, too, recognizes him. “You’re a Jedi,” he accuses. “You must let me go. The Jedi do not kill the defenseless!”

Anakin glares, his red eyes narrowing. “I am no Jedi,” he snarls. “They are gone, dead, because of the Empire. I am what remains. I am Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.” Well, maybe that’s not entirely true, but it is partially true, at least, and that’s what counts. He gestures casually with his hand, unlocking the chain and collar from around Aayla’s neck, and she’s quick to move away from the Hutt.

“I am your death,” Anakin snarls, reaching out and wrapping the Force around Jabba’s neck, strangling him. “You touched my child, and you will die for it.”

Jabba flails and struggles, and Anakin uses the Force to open the trapdoor in the floor of the throne room to where the rancor is kept, tossing the Hutt inside. There’s a terrified yelp from Jabba and a roar of hunger and some struggling and screaming before it all goes quiet as Jabba dies, fed to his own pet. Personally, Anakin can think of no fate more fitting for him than that.

“Anakin, I – I can’t believe you’re really here,” Aayla says finally, her voice faint, and Anakin turns from the trapdoor to look at her, grimacing.

She’s practically naked.

Not that he hasn’t seen her like that before, but it’s – she’s a slave, and Force knows what’s been done to her. It horrifies him as much as outrages him, because she was his friend before she became anything else. They’d known one another well when he first came to the Temple – she was still a Padawan then, and she’d helped him with his studies, helped him catch up. She always tried to include him and never ostracized him like so many of the other Jedi did. She cared.

“I’m here,” he replies, and it feels lame, but it doesn’t really know what else to say. He hesitates a moment before using the Force to tug the cloak off one of the dead bounty hunters, handing it to her. “Here. Most of the guards are dead, though there may be some resistance still. Can you get the slaves to safety outside? I will meet you there.”

“Of course,” she replies, her eyes sharpening with determination. Anakin is glad to see it, because it means that, no matter what she’s endured, her spirit is still unbroken. She’s strong, he knows, and though her Force presence is a little darker, a little sharper, she’s still her.

He needs to talk to her, because he can understand what she’s going through, especially if – if –

It’s a line of thought he shuts down, the mere prospect of having been hurt like that, enough to make him sick, the sensation of unwanted hands crawling over his skin, even as he tamps the memories down.

But they can talk later.

Reva comes first.

They part ways after they leave the throne room, Aayla taking a side exit to find the other slaves while Anakin puts his helmet back on and makes his way down to the dungeon. There are only two guards there who he dispatches quickly and quietly, so either the others are all dead, or they’ve fled. He doesn’t look around him, the Force guiding him straight to where Reva is being held. She’s curled in the shadows against the stone wall, a collar around her neck cutting off her access to the Force, the only light in the cell coming from the grate overhead, letting in the golden rays of the rising suns.

She looks up when he approaches, and the fear on her face makes him angry enough to want to kill Jabba all over again, but he merely holds out a hand, using the Force to unlock the collar. It opens, and she yanks it off, throwing it across the cell and scrambling to her feet, relief flooding her features when she realizes who he is.

Anakin doesn’t waste a second, ripping open the cell’s barred door and dropping to one knee to catch her when she throws herself at him with a strangled sob, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him. He holds her tightly, and with her so close, the Dark Side falls away, the song of the Light rising up to welcome him in its soothing glow.

It’s over.

She’s safe. She’s here. She’s safe.

Chapter Text

For many long minutes, Anakin just holds Reva close to him, as close as he can with his armor, relaxing in the warmth and brightness and nearness of her Force presence. He could have lost her. She could have been sold into slavery like he was, or handed over to the Empire, and he might never have seen her again.

But that didn’t happen. He rescued her in time, saved her, and it’s all over now.

“Come,” he says to her at last, shifting, and hoisting her up his arms, his prosthetic gripping her, so she doesn’t fall, “Let’s go home.” She doesn’t seem phased by the way his vocoder alters his voice, clinging to him physically and through their bond as he carries her from the dungeon.

No one stops him as he walks through the palace – no one is there to stop him anymore – and when he gets outside, it’s to the brightness of the twin suns, the first time he’s shown himself in public during the day. He’ll worry about the consequences later, and what it could mean for him. Right now, what matters most is that Reva is safe.

Aayla is out there, along with the slaves who were in the palace, and with them are Kitster and Wald, and some other members of the Trail. For a moment, everyone stands there staring at Anakin, at the child in his arms, but Reva doesn’t lift her head, though she must be aware of the scrutiny.

“You have done what we have sought to do for years,” Kitster says at last, stepping forward. “We have a chance to have a free planet now, thanks to you.”

“Think nothing of it,” he replies, tightening his grip on Reva. “It needed to be done.”

And once he’s had time to rest, and once Reva has had time to recover, he will need to think about his next moves very carefully. He cannot afford to make any mistakes, and the power vacuum that will be left in the wake of Jabba’s death is… massive. Everyone will be clamoring to claim it, even if Fortuna gets it first, and if they don’t do something, they could end up with a tyrant just as awful as Jabba was, if not worse. If the Empire is called in to find the Shadow…

No, that cannot happen. It would be a disaster for everyone, and Anakin owes it to the slaves on this planet who he has freed to protect them from re-enslavement.

He turns to Aayla then, who is carrying both lightaxes that she obviously took from the dead Gamorrean guards. “Come with us,” he says to her. “We need to leave.”

She obeys without asking any questions, the cloak from the bounty hunter still pulled around her body. Anakin leads her to where he hid his speeder, climbing on and settling Reva on his lap so he can still grasp the controls before nodding to Aayla. She swings on behind him, holding the lightaxes carefully and wrapping her arms around his waist so she doesn’t fall off.

With them secure, Anakin fires up the engine and flies away, back to the Lars homestead.

It’s a long flight, and they don’t arrive until mid-afternoon. The suns are beating down on them relentlessly, and Anakin is glad to be there. Even with the modifications in his armor so it’ll somewhat thermoregulate, it’s hot, and he can’t imagine how Reva and Aayla must be feeling.

Owen and Beru, the latter of whom has her shoulder bandaged, come out of the homestead to greet them even before they’ve gotten off the speeder. Beru scoops Reva into a hug, fussing over her, asking if she’s okay and so on, while Owen comes to Anakin.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” says Owen, taking Anakin by surprise when he gives him a brief embrace. “I heard the news. It must be everywhere by now, talk of how the Shadow killed Jabba. The rumors are really flying.”

“We’ll need to deal with it somehow,” Anakin replies, pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. Introductions first. “This is Aayla Secura,” he says to Owen and Beru, “She was a good friend when we were Jedi. And these are Owen and Beru Lars, my stepbrother and his wife, and Reva Sevander, a youngling I rescued when I escaped from the Temple.”

Beru, with a hand on Reva’s shoulder, approaches Aayla, taking in her state of dress with a quick glance. “Come with me,” she offers. “I have some clothes that will fit you. You’re more than welcome to stay with us; it’s not as though we don’t have Jedi here already.”

“I would appreciate that,” Aayla replies, and she follows Beru back into the homestead, still clutching the lightaxes.

Reva sticks close to Anakin while he puts the speeder away and removes his armor, piling it in a corner of the garage, deciding to take it back to its proper hiding spot later. He leaves Dooku’s lightsaber with it, before taking Reva into the cool interior of the homestead so they can get drinks; staying hydrated is very important on Tatooine, after all.

“What happened when they came?” Anakin asks her gently as they settle onto a bench, Reva curling against his side. She hasn’t spoken a whole lot, hasn’t had a chance to, either, and Anakin knows that she probably needs to talk about it. He helped Ahsoka when she struggled after difficult missions, and he can help Reva with this, too.

“I felt the danger,” she tells him, resting her head on his shoulder, “And I told Owen and Beru. They told me to run if it got… bad. I – I tried escaping through the window –” which was something they’d done drills for, should the Empire ever find them unexpectedly, “– But there was someone there, and he saw me. They stopped me, and Beru tried to stop them from taking me. They tried to shoot her, and I used to Force to push her out of the way. Then, they took me.”

It makes him so angry to hear it, angry at the injustice of it all, of the way they hadn’t even cared not to hurt a child or kill an innocent. But Jabba is dead now, and his reign is over. It’s all over. They’re safe now, or they will be if they make a move to liberate Tatooine while they still have a chance. It’s something they’ll have to plan out very carefully, and Anakin knows that he won’t be able to do it alone. He’ll need help if he is to succeed.

“You’re okay now,” he promises her, smoothing back her hair and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, tucking her close. “They’re all gone.”

“Is it bad that I’m glad you killed them?” Reva asks quietly.

If they were still Jedi, Anakin would be obligated to give her a lecture about the Code, and about how they should not let themselves feel satisfaction when being victorious over opponents, when defeating and killing them. But they are not Jedi, and she is only a child. “It is natural,” he says instead, “To feel that way. Your feelings are not wrong. In time, you will understand. They hurt you, and it is normal to feel relief when something that hurt or scared you has been destroyed.”

It’s something of a simplified answer, but it’s one that seems to satisfy her nevertheless.

She’s quiet for a few moments, and Anakin can sense the way she’s thinking something over, before she tentatively queries, “can I ask you something?”

“Always,” he answers, “Anything.”

“I – can – can I call you ‘dad’?”

It takes him off-guard abruptly, that she would even want to, and he can’t breathe past the wave of emotions that crashes into him, choking him, and he blinks away the tears that instinctively rise. She is – everything to him. Everything. She is the only one he has here, the only one who is keeping him grounded and stable, his lifeline amidst all of this. If he didn’t have her, he doesn’t know where he would be.

“Of course, dear one, if that is what you want,” he replies when he’s certain that his voice will be level, no matter how much he suddenly wants to cry. What did he ever do to deserve a child like this? He had thought he could help her at first, when he took her, but he’s seeing more and more that they’re helping each other.

I love you, he thinks, but he doesn’t know how to say it to her when she’s been raised a Jedi, even if they’ve been together for months. He hadn’t expected her to become his in the same way Ahsoka is, in the same way his own blood child is, the child he has yet to meet. Instead of saying the words, he pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her head and holding her, letting her feel his affection for her through their bond.

She’s his child, and they’re family, and Anakin wouldn’t want it any other way.

***

Reva is very clingy the rest of the day, sticking next to him, hardly even straying more than a few feet away, and it’s very similar to the way she was at the beginning. He doesn’t mind though. To the contrary, it relieves him to have her within arm’s reach at all times, especially after nearly losing her so abruptly.

He’s under no delusions that it could have gone badly, very badly.

He doesn’t see Aayla again for a couple hours after Beru takes her, and he knows that she needs the time to recover and recenter herself. She’s been through a very trying ordeal, and it won’t be easy for her to heal. When she comes back, she follows Beru around, not saying much, though he exchanges glances with her many times, and he can see in her eyes the same thing that he feels: they need to talk, preferably once Reva isn’t there.

Some things, she is too young to hear.

They get their chance that evening, once Reva has fallen asleep, the ordeal of the previous night finally catching up to her, her exhaustion pulling her under. “Don’t go,” she whispers to Anakin, curled in his lap – she’d refused to go to bed, insistent on staying with him while he talks to Owen and Beru in quiet voices about the state of affairs on Tatooine.

“I’m staying right here,” he promises, lifting her into his arms as he finally takes her to her room. “I’m not leaving for anywhere tonight.” It wouldn’t be safe anyway, with so many people undoubtedly after the Shadow. Besides, he’s tired too, and he knows when it’s best not to push himself.

She snuggles closer, pouting when he gently pries her grip off, situating her on her bed and tucking her in, brushing a hair back from her face as he lingers. “’kay,” she murmurs, mostly sleeping already, “G’night, dad.”

Anakin feels an overwhelming fondness and affection for her sweep over him, and he squeezes her hand before straightening. “Sleep well, little one,” he answers. “I’m only a room away.”

By the time he leaves, she’s already asleep.

“She’s sleeping,” he says as he reenters the room where the others are, his eyes meeting Aayla’s as he gestures to her. “We can talk outside.”

She follows him, and they climb onto the roof together, just sitting there and staring out into the darkness of the desert, thousands of stars overhead, the light of the three moons shining down on them. It feels strangely peaceful, empty in the way the desert always is. Once, Anakin feared the wildness of it, but now, it soothes him. He has a complicated history with Tatooine – it’s brought him so many joys and sorrows – but it is still his home, and even if he can’t say he’s glad to be here, he’s… not discontented either.

There is so much for them to talk about, but Anakin hardly knows where to begin. He feels like a completely different person from the one she knew, and it’s – it’s been so many months since they’ve been together physically, as opposed to brief conversations over holos. “What happened to you,” he asks her finally, “When the Purge began?”

“I was on Felucia,” she answers, wrapping her arms around herself. She’s wearing one of Beru’s dresses, and even if it’s a little small on her, it’s not even half as revealing as her previous outfit was. “It – it happened so fast,” she continues, a tendril of grief escaping through her shields into the Force. “I sensed it, their intention to fire, and I – I was able to react in time. I –” Her voice wavers, and Anakin leans towards her, bumping their shoulders together to offer her comfort, “I ended up killing some of them when I deflected the blaster bolts as I tried to escape. I’m not sure if Bly survived or not. I don’t understand how they could have done that. I always protected them when I was able, but…” She trails off, her emotions a mess of grief, pain, and betrayal.

“It was not their fault,” Anakin tells her quietly. “If you remember, Fives had… found something. Inhibitor chips. The Council and Chancellor agreed with the Kaminoans findings, and I saw no reason to question their assessment. The clones were programmed; they had those things implanted into them which forced them to obey. It was not their fault.” Sometimes, he thinks of Appo, and how he’d killed him, and he feels sick with guilt. It wasn’t his fault. And Anakin killed him anyway – even if he hadn’t known, at the time.

Aayla sucks in a sharp breath, horror flaring outward, and he can only imagine how she must be feeling, not too dissimilar from how he did when he realized it. She has always worked to protect the clones when she could, he knows, and she was a good General. She cared for her men deeply, even if not as strongly as Anakin did his own; he doesn’t think any Jedi was as fiercely protective of the clones as he was, and he knows it’s because he’s never been the Jedi he should have been. Once, he would have felt shame at that, or regret, but now, it is merely another fact to him. The time of the Jedi is over, and it was not their way that helped him survive all this time.

“I escaped Felucia,” she continues after a moment, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on her crossed arms, “And I wandered for a short time before pirates got the jump on me. They realized I was a Jedi, but because – because I’m a Twi’lek, they sold me to Jabba instead of collecting the bounty on Jedi which the Empire has put out.”

Because I’m a Twi’lek, she says, and he can only imagine how her species has affected her life and choices. Twi’leks are heavily sought after as slaves, especially female ones. “And then Jabba got you,” Anakin states quietly.

“Yeah,” she replies, “He got me around a month ago, and he thought that I’d be more… obedient. His last slave girl tried to kill him, apparently, and he probably figured I’d be grateful that I wasn’t handed over to the Empire or some such nonsense.”

“You are safe now,” he tells her firmly because he thinks it needs to be said. “I imagine it wasn’t… easy there.”

She looks away. “It could have been worse. They never really… hurt me much. They just… said things, talked about it.” Her lekku twitch as a shudder runs through her body, and Anakin hesitantly reaches out, touching her shoulder lightly.

“It’s okay.” His voice is quiet, distant, his mind drifting off to memories he’s always tried to keep buried. “I – I understand. You do not need to speak of it if it’s too hard.”

“What happened to you?” Aayla queries, visibly shrugging off the thoughts that are troubling her. “I felt you using the Dark Side.” She sounds more curious than disapproving, for which Anakin is grateful.

“I was at the Temple,” he answers, “When I felt it. I was there when the clones came, and I – I didn’t really understand what had happened to them. I only saw them killing the Jedi, and there were… younglings there, who the Emperor’s new apprentice killed, and that was when I – Fell. I first touched the Dark then, and I helped many survivors flee the Temple, including Reva. I… went after Sidious, but I failed to kill him, and then, Reva and I came here, to Tatooine. We’ve been here ever since, and I have tried to use my abilities to free slaves when I can. I am the Shadow that Jabba has feared for so long.”

Aayla leans toward him, nudging his shoulder. “Good,” she replies passionately, “I know your use of the Dark is something most Jedi would frown on, but I know you, Anakin. I know I can trust you to do the right thing, or at least to try to. Now, I guess we can only try.” A quiet huff. “No matter what Master Yoda might have said.”

Anakin smirks a little at that, blowing out a breath and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, tucking her against his side. She fits there perfectly, just as she always has, and he feels a pang in his heart at that. So much has changed, and their relationship has changed, too, with time, growing and becoming more complicated in ways he can’t even fully understand. “Will you help me?” he inquires. “In my fight?”

“You know I’ll always be with you,” she promises. “I’ll stand by you, like I always have.”

And it’s then, that Anakin realizes he loves her, and not just in the way he loved her when they were younger. He loves her, a small, little spark in his chest that flickers and burns, humming with life at her presence.

It’s nothing like he feels for Padme, though; nothing could ever compare. With Padme, his love is an all-consuming devotion, something that can overrule logic and common sense, and everything. He loves her with a fierceness that could rival the twin suns of Tatooine, and it’s something that will never change, especially not when they have a child together. They have a future together, and it was the one thing that gave him something to hold onto during the war, something to look to, for when it was over, the promise of a family.

He loves Padme, more than almost anyone – there are exceptions, of course; his mother, his child who he has yet to see, Reva, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka chiefly among them – and this, whatever he feels for Aayla, will change nothing. It’s Padme who he has a future with, a child with, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt a little to know that he’ll have to let go of whatever he feels for Aayla. He can love her as a friend, a sister – if he can manage it after the things they’ve done together – but nothing more.

Chapter Text

After Ahsoka left, nothing in the galaxy felt right anymore. Everything felt wrong, out of alignment. She had been his star in the war, the thing Anakin clung to most when it became rough. She was all he had during the dark days, when the battles drug on, and he watched friends and brothers fall all around him. The war was hard. It was hard to fight, hard to watch his men die, his boys who relied on him to protect them. It was hard to try and shield Ahsoka from the worst of it, to protect her from being scarred like he has been.

It was hard, but Anakin did it anyways, did everything he could to protect his padawan, his child, his light. He took blows for her. He went hungry for her. His world revolved around her, because he had no one else to focus on outside of the war. There’s Padme, of course, but it’s different when they are only friends and when he wants so much more. He wants a family, something he can never get until the galaxy sees peace.

And then, Ahsoka left.

Ahsoka left, and in his grief, a pain that Padme shared, because she, too, had loved Ahsoka as a sister or daughter, or maybe both, they had done something they shouldn’t have. They’d craved intimacy and comfort, and it had just… happened. It felt so right, and Anakin hates, a little, how right it feels, even now, that they… did it.

But he doesn’t know how to look at Padme anymore, either, and he knows he shouldn’t be avoiding her, but he… is. It’s easier. Easier because he doesn’t trust his own willpower anymore either, not now that they’ve gone so far. There is no going back, only forward, and forward is a tricky path, one without any clear steppingstones or answers.

The war doesn’t wait for him to deal with his conflicts or his grief. It doesn’t wait for anything, much less for him to be ready to face the rapidly mounting losses. Sometimes, it’s beginning to feel as though the galaxy is trying to drive in even harder, how little he can do to protect his family. He couldn’t protect Ahsoka. He can’t protect his boys now, either.

They’ve been here for weeks already, fighting off the Separatist forces and the weather both. It’s miserable, just another in a long series of horrors that Anakin has seen and endured throughout his life. This last assault, especially, was bad. Sure, they might have achieved a victory, but it feels hollow in the face of everything, and everyone, they lost. The celebrations among the clones are subdued, compared to normal, even in the companies which didn’t lose men. They’re scattered, quiet, while the rest of them hold memorials for those who were lost or sit by the bedsides of those who were injured and are now clinging to life.

Anakin would have been there, in the medbay, checking on his men, and he was there earlier, but now, he’s hidden away in a cluster of bushes, just trying to breathe. It would help if he cleaned up, if he washed away the stench of blood and ash and mud and sweat that’s clinging to him, that’s been clinging to him for days and days, but he – after everything they lost, he just can’t.

His arm, though bandaged, is burning from the blaster bolt he took to protect Rex, a shot that would have killed him, and he’s still shaken by how close things came. It could have been over. Rex could have died there. (He could still die in the future, at any moment, and the fear of that unknown is almost more than Anakin can handle. He’s not good enough to protect Rex or his boys or anyone, is he? He tries, but he still fails. He can’t protect them anymore than he could protect Ahsoka or his mother.)

He doesn’t move when Aayla comes and sits next to him, her exhaustion radiating into the Force. She was here first, and he and the 501st had come to reinforce her. “You did everything you could,” she says quietly, tiredly, somehow reading his train of thought. Or perhaps it’s not too hard to know what he’s thinking, with the guilt and regret and grief that’s drowning him in the Force. And they’ve been friends for so long; she’s the only person he’s had at the Temple, other than Obi-Wan.

She leans closer when he doesn’t answer, half leaning against him. “We’re okay,” she whispers, though it sounds more directed to herself than to him. “We’re – we’re okay.”

Some moments, Anakin hadn’t been sure they’d even make it, and all he could think was ‘at least Ahsoka isn’t here’ because it would have killed him to lose her like that, to hold her body like he held his mother’s. “Fives – Fives will be alright,” Anakin says, his voice breaking. He’d been shot in the abdomen, and it had hit a major artery. There’d been so much blood, and he’d – he’d panicked, blasting back the droids with the Force, giving Kix a chance to get to him.

He’ll make it, but he almost didn’t, and how many more times will this happen, how many more friends and brothers will he see die in front of him, while he’s helpless to watch?

“Bly will be, too,” Aayla tells him, and her relief over that fact is obvious. A pause as she studies him, worry in her eyes, and then, “try not to dwell on it too much.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” he answers tiredly. He never has, even though he knows it makes him a bad Jedi; Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him, but then, what else is new?

She presses their foreheads together, and he leans closer, winding his arms around her, and exhaling a breath that’s half a sob. Something flickers through her eyes, and he knows what it is, because he’s seen it in Padme’s eyes before, but he doesn’t stop her when she presses the lightest of kisses to his mouth. He should stop her. He doesn’t. He can’t, doesn’t know how when he needs a distraction from the war so very badly. Even if he could go to Padme now, even if they’d married at the beginning of the war instead of waiting, he wouldn’t.

She’s too good for him, too light. She – he can’t make her understand the things in his mind, wouldn’t do it even if he could, because he doesn’t want to – to drag her into the darkness with him. He’s afraid of hurting her, of… tarnishing her somehow, especially after – after –

But Aayla is here and real and she understands the war and the pain and the death. She’s lived it with him, side-by-side, and he feels so horribly guilty over what he did over what he was forced to do over those things on Zygerria that he never lets himself dwell on because it makes him feel the need to rip his skin off to get those feelings away. He hated it, hates it, hates what happened, what he did, what she made him do, hates that he was weak enough to give in and submit, because there was Padme who was waiting for him when they’d promised each other a future and he was ruining it, did ruin it, and he can’t fix it, can’t make it better or change it or reverse it or –

Aayla kisses him again, a little more purposefully, intently, and he responds to it instinctively, fragments of thoughts bouncing around in his mind, demanding his attention, making him feel dirty and violated, but the insistent pressure of her mouth against his, gentle instead of demanding, tender instead of dominating, brings him back to the present.

It’s calming and soothing, and nothing at all like – like –

He tries to shove those memories back, but it’s hard when they’re so close, so present, threatening to invade his every intimate moment with another.

“What’s troubling you?” Aayla asks pulling back, her hand warm and grounding on his neck. “I know it’s not just the battle.”

Anakin makes a quiet, strangled noise, dropping his head on her shoulder so he doesn’t have to look at her. It’s been burning inside of him for so long, and he can’t get rid of it, no matter what he does, and even Padme’s touch didn’t chase it away from his mind. “She ruined me,” he manages, voice muffled. “She – she – I – we – I didn’t want it, but I still did it when she demanded it, and I cannot get it out of my head, no matter what I do.”

Aayla’s fingers card through his hair, gentle, light, comforting, but he can still feel a tendril of anger creeping over their bond. “Who? Who is she?”

He can’t say the name; it gets stuck in his throat, and he chokes on it. “Zygerria,” he whispers instead, as much of an answer as he can ever give. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he needs someone else to know, so he’s not drowning in these memories all alone.

Her anger flares, sharp and hot and protective, and she reaches to him in the Force, touching him soothingly over their bond, pushing feelings of safety to him. “She’s gone,” she offers, assures, “But I know it’s not that easy to forget things.” Her grip around him tightens, making him feel protected, and he needs it, needs it more than anything, even if it’s not real, because at the end of the day, they’re both Jedi, and the Order has to come first. “Do you… want me to help you?” she asks hesitantly.

He shouldn’t, but he needs to be able to look at Padme someday and be able to touch her without feeling like throwing up and without feeling as if he’s ruining her, too, the way he himself has been. “Yeah,” he rasps, lifting his head. Aayla watches him, waiting, letting him take his time as he gathers himself together and leans toward her, kissing her very lightly, uncertainly.

Her hand strokes along his back as they exchange slow kisses, and finally, she pulls back. “Is this still okay?” she asks, ever mindful of him.

He nods wordlessly. It’s good. It’s… The thoughts aren’t intruding the way they were earlier.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” she requests. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

He considers that, feels the pinpricks of anticipation skate down his spine, mingled with something akin to dread. Anxiety, maybe. She’s not forcing him to do anything, though. Aayla is good. She’d never do that. “Okay,” he agrees shakily. “Yeah.”

Aayla helps. She’s his friend, and he trusts her, and they can help each other. It helps to have someone they can turn to when the war takes its toll on them. They don’t officially talk about what they are, but it’s pretty obvious. It goes without saying that they don’t tell anyone – they can’t, since they’re Jedi, and what they are doing is forbidden, against the Code, but it – it doesn’t seem wrong, and Anakin needs the closeness and intimacy, almost as much as Aayla herself seems to.

Obi-Wan finds out by accident.

They hadn’t been as careful as they should have been – Anakin had forgotten to lock his door.

He has her pressed against the wall, needing to feel the closeness, and they’re both half out of their clothing when the door opens. “Anakin, I –” Obi-Wan begins, and then stops. For a moment, all three of them freeze in place, before Obi-Wan backs out with a pointed, “– will talk to you later.”

The whole thing is unreasonably hilarious, for some reason, and he and Aayla spend a good five minutes laughing over it, which they probably shouldn’t, because they could get in huge trouble if Obi-Wan reported on them to the Council. Which he ought to. They’d be reprimanded, and probably reassigned to different sides of the galaxy. Still, the look of absolute horror on Obi-Wan’s face was priceless to behold.

It doesn’t last forever, their relationship, or even for that long, just barely over a month before the Outer Rim Sieges break out and they amicably part ways, both knowing that whatever they had is now over.

Aayla helped him, helped him put his broken, damaged pieces back together, helped him find comfort in intimacy instead of just fear and anxiety. She helped him heal, gave him a chance at having a future and family again, and that’s something he can never repay her for. He wouldn’t even know how.

***

Present day

They sit in a comfortable silence, letting a breeze from the desert wash over them. They are both different people now than when they were last together in person, darker, a little more damaged, but they’re still them, and they’re still friends.

Sometimes, like right now, Anakin can hardly believe that it’s been nearly five months, half a year, since the Empire formed. It feels like only yesterday, some days, that it all happened, and other times, it feels as though it’s been so much longer.

“What will happen with… us, now?” Aayla queries, and even if she doesn’t spell it out explicitly, it’s pretty obvious what she means.

That means Anakin needs to tell her about Padme, something he isn’t looking forward to at all; it’s bound to be an exceedingly awkward conversation. 

“I – there is something… I should tell you,” Anakin begins, feeling awkward, entirely uncertain how to even explain any of this. Not looking at her helps, though, makes it a little bit easier. “I – you know Senator Amidala, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she answers, “I’ve met her sometimes. I wouldn’t say I know her well, but I know her.”

How is he supposed to say this? He doesn’t have a problem with talking about himself, but he – he knows that he sometimes lacks the diplomacy that many others have, probably because Basic wasn’t his first language. He can be too blunt sometimes, and bluntness isn’t what he needs right now, but he doesn’t really know any other way of speaking.

“She – she was there, when I was first freed from slavery,” he tells her, deciding to start at the beginning. “We… became friends, I suppose, because she was kind. She saw me as a person when most did not. She was… freeborn. And I – we – when – before the war broke out, when there were assassination attempts on her, I was assigned to protect her, and we came to realize then how much we cared for each other.” He pauses, breathing out shakily, wrapping his arms around himself, mirroring her position. He can feel her watching him, but he can’t bring himself to look at her, not yet.

“We talked about marrying,” he says honestly, “And I seriously considered it, even if it was against the Code, but there was the war, and we would have been living a lie. I did not want to do that. She did not want it, either, so we – we decided to wait, until after the war, when I would be free to leave the Order without abandoning my duty. But then Zygerria happened, and things… changed a little. You know how much I struggled with… closeness, and I do not know that I would have been able to explain it to her.” Even after Ahsoka left, in their first and last time together, he had felt the anxiety crawling over his skin, but he’d been determined, and he’d ignored it. It worked then, but he doesn’t know how long that would have remained true.

“You helped me with it,” he continues, finally turning to look at her, reaching out to take her hand, “And it is… much easier for me now. I don’t fear… closeness like I used to. I care about you. I do. But I love Padme, too, and we – we… were together, once, and she – we have a child now, a child I have never seen. It is not safe for them to have me close. Once this is over, once the galaxy is safe, perhaps then I will be able to… have the family I dream of, but until then, I must fight, for them, for… everyone.”

Aayla squeezes his hand. “I understand,” she answers. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect it, any of that, but I understand.” There is a sort of resigned acceptance in her words, and in the Force. “You have someone waiting for you, and I know she must be a good person, for you to care for her so deeply. This – it won’t change anything. I’ll still stay with you and help you.”

“Thank you,” Anakin whispers, feeling the sudden, inexplicable urge to cry, but he stubbornly forces it back. Aayla is a true friend, and perhaps that is why, because he has never had a friend like her, who would do anything for him, even if it hurts her to do so. She doesn’t need to say that she cares about him because her words speak for themselves. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t stay. She’s strong. Resourceful. She could easily make her own way and go into hiding somewhere far from him, but she’s choosing to stay and fight, and he’s grateful to her for that.

“Of course,” she replies. “Anything.” They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, a contented understanding resonating between them before she breaks it again. “I have never seen a… lightaxe like that,” she remarks, “But the one, the blue one, that one has my kyber crystal in it. I thought I could take it out and remake my lightsaber again. Even if I don’t use it often, it will be good to have it, at least.”

“And I could use some sparring practice,” Anakin answers. “I can locate whatever parts you need.”

“What of the other crystal?” she queries. “What will we do with it?”

Anakin pauses, considering it for a few moments, before a smile spreads across his face. “We’ll keep it for Reva,” he answers. “She is only eleven still, but she will need a lightsaber of her own. She will need to be able to fight, to protect herself.” What happened yesterday won’t happen again with Jabba dead, but his henchmen are hardly the only ones who could pose a threat to Reva, or any of them. If she can fight, protect herself, she’ll have a better chance of evading capture should someone come after her.

“She is your padawan, then?” Aayla asks curiously.

“My daughter,” Anakin corrects without even hesitating, remembering Reva’s soft can I call you dad from earlier. “The Jedi are gone. There is no Order anymore. We are… no longer Jedi, and I would not make Reva a padawan, even if that was not so, because she is just a child, not a soldier. I raised Ahsoka as a soldier, because of the war, and it is something I regret. I cannot do that again. With Reva… it will be different. She will not fight now unless it is to defend herself. She is still young.”

“Yeah,” Aayla murmurs, a weighted sorrow in her words. “I will help you teach her, Anakin, if that’s what you want.”

“I do,” he answers immediately. “It will be good to not be the only former Jedi here. Tatooine needs us, and we need to be ready.”

Chapter Text

Tatooine has been in a state of unrest ever since Jabba's death, even with Bib Fortuna taking immediate control and trying to cement his control. With so many of Jabba's henchmen dead, it's hard for him to do so, something that makes Anakin feel no small measure of smugness, especially when he hears that one of the settlements to which he'd been sending freed slaves, Mos Pelgo, has declared their sovereignty from Fortuna and is now under the rule of a council, led by Cobb Vanth. Fortuna doesn't have the resources to resecure it, and given the small size of the settlement, it's most likely that he'll leave it.

But the unrest is only growing, slaves from all over standing up and fighting back, killing slavers and freeing themselves. It makes Anakin feel… proud. Proud that he was able to inspire these people to fight back, proud that he was able to accomplish something so vast.

His work is not yet done, though, and it's a little over one week later when he finally collects the armor that he needs to somewhat hide himself as he takes the next step forward. With Aayla at his side, he's not alone, and he feels far more confident in taking actions which could lead him back to war. But the Force has guided him thus far, and Tatooine is only one planet of many. Sure, he can help the slaves here, but what about the slaves who are all over the galaxy? What about the clones, who have been enslaved to the Empire with inhibitor chips? Who will help them?

He could never forgive himself for abandoning all those people out there who need him; this is what he was born for. All he's ever wanted is to help people, and it's time for the Shadow's rule to expand further.

But first… first, he needs to free Tatooine once and for all.

The armor he's wearing is made of a durasteel alloy, colored gold with a rising sun painted on his pauldrons, the symbol of the Trail. He's also wearing greaves and vambraces of a similar color, and a helmet that's open in the front. It's just enough to mostly cover his face, giving him a certain anonymity as well as concealing his face from holos so the Empire won't recognize him as a Jedi. His clothing underneath is a light gray, the typical garb of moisture farmers or many of the residents on Tatooine.

He also covered the scar next to his right eye, the scar he got from Dooku during their duel on Naboo in the middle of the war, and tied his hair back with a simple piece of leather to keep it back and to distinguish himself further from Anakin Skywalker.

And it's with that disguise that Anakin walks up to Jabba's palace in the middle of the day, Aayla at his side. The two guards outside are shot dead before they can even reach for their blasters, and weapons drawn, Anakin and Aayla venture inside the darkness of the palace, to the throne room where Fortuna is holding court.

Two more guards try to stop them, and they, too, are shot down before the walk down the steps onto the floor of the throne room. "Your rule's at an end, Fortuna," Anakin calls out, raising his blaster and firing, shooting the Twi'lek through the skull. "I am in charge here, now."

Someone to the side lifts a weapon to fire at them, and Aayla spins, gunning him down.

"Anyone else?" Anakin asks, looking around.

Slowly, one of the individuals in the room, someone who looks to have been a security officer or the like, steps forward, dropping to one knee, and the others in the room follow his example.

"I am Jacen Starkiller, your new Daimyo," Anakin states. "You will answer to me. Disloyalty will be punished harshly. Am I clear?"

Murmurs of agreement echo through the room, and he casually strolls to the throne, shoving Fortuna's body off it and taking a seat, Aayla standing to his right side, his loyal protector.

"You are of the Trail," realizes the officer, standing, and something about him is… off. Anakin narrows his eyes, touching him lightly through the Force, just a flicker, but his shields are strong. Still, he seems oddly familiar for reasons Anakin can't quite place.

"I am," he answers coolly. "It is because of the actions of the Shadow, whoever they are, that we have won this victory. I expect full compliance from all of you." Slowly, he meets their eye one by one, watching the way they react, assessing them, judging who he can trust, who he'll need to watch his back around. Slowly, he slides his two blasters back into their holsters, but he keeps one hand close to them, just in case.

None of them know he's the Shadow, and if he has his way, they never will. He knows the Shadow has a huge bounty on his head, and that will only ensure to keep him as a myth, a legend among those who are freed and even those who are not. Anakin Skywalker cannot be the Shadow anymore than he can be Jacen Starkiller. He has to build a new persona for himself, a new identity entirely, and yes, it's a risk, but it's one worth taking.

Sidious won't be looking too closely at a change in power on Tatooine because it's not important in the whole scheme of things, especially not when Anakin knows that many other Jedi survived, some of whom will undoubtedly be causing problems for him. Tatooine is far in the Outer Rim, virtually important, with no major resources. He's counting on that to protect him, to protect all of them, to keep them and their actions hidden from the eyes of the Empire.

He's the Shadow. That means he can work in the shadows, in the dark. Why not start his own Shadow Empire to combat the Galactic Empire?

It's a thought for later, at any rate, something to seriously consider.

To do that, of course, he'll need a better set of armor, one he can get on and off much faster. Maybe he should look into his original idea of designing it with nanobots. Now that he's the Daimyo, all of Jabba's resources are his, and he can utilize them to make things better. Better for his people, the people who are now his to protect, and better for the galaxy as well.

This – this is where he's been led all this time.

It's not the place he could have imagined himself being a year ago, or even when he first came here, but it's the place where he's been brought, the place to which the Force has guided him. Anakin does not know what will happen now, on Tatooine or in the galaxy, what the repercussions of this act will be, but he will continue to fight for as long as he is able.

He is Anakin Skywalker, and he is free.

***

Anakin spends the rest of his first day as Daimyo overseeing everything, getting a sense for the current state of affairs on Tatooine, and crushing down any of the revolts that spread on Mos Espa when the slavers learn of his identity as part of the Trail.

It's nightfall when Owen and Beru finally arrive along with Reva. He hadn't wanted them to come until he could be relatively certain that it's safe for them, and he's not, not really, but it'll have to be good enough. Ruling a planet is not easy, and maybe he'd underestimated a little how much work is involved, especially when the elite on the planet will be adamantly opposing him. Well, he'll just have to win them over. Nothing worth doing is ever easy, after all.

Reva jumps out of the speeder, running across the sand and jumping at him before it's even fully stopped. Anakin stumbles back a step when she crashes into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. "Missed you, dad," she mumbles into his chest.

"I missed you, too," Anakin answers, stroking a hand through her hair, "But you know what I'm doing is important, and I do not wish to bring you into danger."

He feels more than sees how she makes a face. "Yeah, I know," she answers, "Can I stay here with you? Do I haaave to go back to the farm in a couple days with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru? You're staying here. So's Mas- Aayla. I'll be safe, right?"

Anakin exchanges looks with Owen and Beru over Reva's head, both of whom are watching with fond amusement. "Just give it a little time," he replies, trying to be soothing, "There is still much unrest, but I will have it handled in a couple weeks. Then, it will be safe for you to be here."

He doesn't tell her that he fully expects bounty hunters or mercenaries or other want-to-be-leaders to try and kill him in his sleep. He and Aayla have already settled on a sleeping schedule where they'll alternate shifts at night, just so no one gets the jump on them, no matter how unlikely it would be since they're Jedi. They need to be careful. They cannot let anyone find out that they can use the Force, or the Empire will be down on them in hours.

For Reva's sake, for the sake of Tatooine and its people, Anakin cannot let that happen.

He has people to protect.

"A couple weeks?" Reva yelps. "That's way too long!"

"I have an idea," Beru offers, stepping forward. "Why don't I get into contact with Kitster and Wald? I'm sure they might not mind staying here with you, to offer more protection and people you can trust. If you have more allies, it'll be safe for Reva."

"She can use a blaster good," Owen points out gruffly, stepping forward to clasp Anakin's shoulder. "You taught her that well, and you know Tatooine isn't a place to go soft."

Anakin very nearly rolls his eyes at that, but Owen is right. "What?" he asks, half incredulous. "You want her to stay with me?"

Owen and Beru look at each other, having an entire silent conversation without words. "Well," Beru answers, "She'll be miserable without you, and you will be miserable without her. You cannot afford to be distracted, and at least if she's close, you won't worry as much."

… She has a point. He can't deny that.

"I'll think about it," he says instead of agreeing, because he still has a couple days to dwell on it, to make up his mind and decide what would be best. "Would you like to see Jabba's rancor?"

"You kept it?" Owen asks, skeptically.

Anakin shrugs, turning to lead them into the palace, Aayla falling in step beside him, Reva on his other side, clinging to his hand. "She's a good deterrent to anyone who might want to threaten me," he answers, amused.

He leads them to the underground pit where the rancor is kept. She's still young, an adolescent, and after he connected to her with the Force, she's very accepting of him. Reva leans against the bars, clasping them with both hands and peering at the rancor within.

"Her name is Muchi," Anakin tells her, watching as she reaches out into the cage to touch the rancor. Muchi makes a snort-growl noise and shuffles closer, letting Reva pet her head. In the Force, Anakin can feel Reva reaching out, touching the rancor's mind, connecting with her, and somehow, he just knows that they're going to be… close.

"I like her," Reva announces, delighted, still petting Muchi. "Can I ride her?"

Aayla hides a laugh with a cough. "Technically, yes," she answers. "She's been ridden before, and she might welcome the bonding experience, teach her who her… owners are."

"In the morning, though," Anakin interrupts quickly before Reva can beg for a midnight ride. "Let's go settle down, talk things over, get some rest."

"I'm not tired!"

"Yeah," he agrees dryly, "You say that now. It will be a different story in the morning, when you need to wake up and are too tired."

She sulks, but doesn't argue, knowing he's right.

Anakin reaches for her, taking her hand to lead her on a short tour of the palace, Aayla, Owen, and Beru following along with him. He's the Daimyo, so he has a lot of responsibilities to his people and planet, and that means he won't have nearly as much time for moments like this, where he can spend time with his newfound family without his duties calling him away. But he's doing this for them, for his child who he has yet to meet, for Padme, for Obi-Wan, for Ahsoka, for the clones, for the surviving Jedi who are out there.

He's doing this for freedom.

It will be a long journey, a journey which has only just begun.

***

It's the dead of night when he slips outside, a cool breeze from the desert rustling his clothing as he ducks behind a rocky outcropping and withdraws the comm unit, rapidly typing up a report, compiling everything he's gathered, before sending it out. He doesn't know what to make of any of the most recent developments. They are… unexpected.

He waits until the unit shows that the report went through before entering a frequency and making the transmission. It takes a few minutes for the connection to be established – or maybe he's being deliberately forced to wait, he doesn't know – before the hooded hologram appears. "You have a report for me."

"Yes," he replies, voice quiet. Sound carries at night, especially in the desert, and he cannot afford to be seen. His mission here is far too important to allow anyone or anything to interfere. This is for – for all of those who have been lost.

"Speak."

"Jabba is dead. Fortuna is dead," he says. "The new Daimyo goes by the name Jacen Starkiller, but I have reason to believe that is not his name. He claims to be part of this… freedom network."

"I see. Will it affect our plans?"

He hesitates for a moment. "Probably, yes," he answers. "Starkiller is cracking down on crime and slavery, but the people support him."

An unimpressed hum. "For now. There is still much we can do to unseat him should it be necessary."

"I – there is more," he ventures slowly. He hadn't seen it happen, or he knows he would probably have been killed too. He'd fled when the attack began, and not a moment too soon, it would seem. "The Shadow is the one who killed Jabba."

"The bounty has turned up nothing?" The hologram crackles with static, but the transmission remains unbroken.

"No, not that I have heard." He pauses again. "I believe the Shadow is a Sith."

"Oh?" There is naked curiosity in the voice.

"The Shadow used a red lightsaber," he answers, a little defensively. "He was no Jedi."

"Wait for now," comes the order. "Do nothing yet. Keep your eye on Starkiller."

"Do you want me to take care of him?" he queries. "I – it is not impossible that he knows the Shadow – or is the Shadow."

"Yes, I suspect as much." The tone is dismissive. "Do nothing without contacting me. Now is not the time. Let him think he's in control. Let him become complacent. We will strike when he does not expect it, and when we are ready."

"As you wish," he answers, bowing his head and ending the transmission. It seems he'll be on Tatooine for a while yet. His job here is not yet over.

***

"The insurgents are getting bold," Neyo, CC-8826, remarks, pausing outside the door to the outpost in Iziz, the capital of Onderon. "Keep your eyes open, boys."

Neyo and a company have been here since a couple months after the Empire formed. They were reassigned after the previous company had met an unfortunate fate at the hands of an unknown, lightsaber-wielding individual. A surviving Jedi, no doubt. Kriffing traitors. He doesn't know how he didn't realize it sooner, what those aruetiise, those traitors, were planning. And sure, he doesn't really like being assigned here to guard duty, but he's a soldier, so he'll always do his duty, no matter how distasteful it may be.

(Still, he thinks it's somewhat of a waste of their abilities. They're commandos; at least they could be tasked with actively hunting down the insurgents, but no. That was given to the new natborn TK troopers who are nothing like what good soldiers should be, in Neyo's opinion, not that the Empire ever asked him, of course.)

"Copy that, sir," the two troopers in the front of the outpost reply, saluting, snapping to attention.

The insurgents have recently been attempting to raid Imperial buildings and supply storages, no doubt to get more weapons and ammunition. They haven't come to this base yet, but Neyo is relatively certain that they'll be next, no matter how well-armed and defended they are here.

A flicker of movement draws Neyo's attention, and he turns, lifting his blaster instinctively. It's dusk outside, not late enough for an attack to occur, so it's probably just an animal.

But then, a dark-robed humanoid figure steps out into his line of vision, hood drawn up to shroud its face from visibility. Something about him – or her or it or whatever it is – sends a chill down Neyo's spine, and his grip on his blaster tightens.

"Halt," barks Sparker, stepping forward. "Stop where you are! You are trespassing on Imperial property!"

The figure does not stop, casually holding out a hand towards them, and all at once, the two troopers are lifted off the ground, clutching at their throats as they're choked. Despite Neyo's rising panic, he still slams the button to lock the facility. "We have a Jedi," he calls into his comm, as he opens fire.

His brothers' bodies are slammed into the durasteel, followed by the snap-hiss of a blue lightsaber as their unknown assailant deflects the bolts away. Neyo knows he's going to die here, but he can only hope that his brothers will be able to stop this traitor and avenge him.

Chapter Text

"Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will."

***

The Jedi Order might have been destroyed, but Jedi Master Jocasta Nu refuses to let it die. She means to reestablish it, no matter how long it takes. It is something to which she is willing to devote the rest of her life if need be. The information she has and the knowledge she possesses is invaluable. Many would kill to get it – especially the Sith – and for that reason, she must be cautious.

But when she sees someone in the Archives, carelessly going through the information and tossing it aside as though it's rubbish, she cannot stand by idly. She cannot leave when such a desecration is happening. The Temple was her home. It is her home despite all the things that have transpired over the last two months, and Jocasta will not walk away while it is being treated this way.

She draws her lightsaber and reveals herself. She does not recognize the Pau'an male in front of her, but when he admits to having been a former Jedi, she has the vague memory of someone like him. A Jedi who always sought access to things better kept secret. There were many such individuals, and there is a reason that the Council entrusted her to protect the secrets of the Archive. Not everyone is ready to learn some of the mysteries of the Force without abusing that knowledge.

"I am Darth Inquiere," he sneers, drawing a red lightsaber and attacking her. Their duel is fast and furious, and Jocasta is quickly overwhelmed. She has never been the best duelist of the Order. Her strength always lay in her knowledge. She is not afraid to die at the hands of this Sith, this Jedi turned traitor. She is only afraid of the Sith using her knowledge to gain more power for themselves.

"I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me," Jocasta whispers, and the Force flares.

Her eyes fly open in time to see Inquiere – or whoever he used to be – being hurled into the shelves. He crumples to the floor, and she turns her head to see a dark-robed figure standing there. He feels… strange in the Force, oddly muted, and she cannot see his face because of an all-too-familiar helmet concealing his features.

It is not a helmet Jocasta has seen more than a handful of times.

The Mask of Venamis, constructed of cortosis ore, belonged to a Fallen Jedi from a century ago. After his death, the helmet – designed to resemble a grinning skull – was stored in the Temple and kept with other dangerous Sith relics. For this man to have gotten it, he must have broken into that part of the Temple, and her alarm flares. What else has the Empire gotten their hands on?

Something is crackling around him, a strange, dangerous power that makes the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Wind currents whip up around him, electricity crackling on the tips of his fingers. "Master Nu," he says, and his voice is unrecognizable. It could be anyone. "It is not safe for you here."

"Who are you?" she asks, but even as she does, she knows he will be unable to hear her. The helmet was built for sensory deprivation. It cuts the wearer off from all physical sensations, allowing them to be one with the Force.

He lifts a hand, and the Force rips. Well, perhaps rip is not the correct term for it, but it certainly bends, and in front of her startled eyes a tear appears. It starts as a small spot edged with purple and rapidly grows bigger until it almost resembles… a portal? The wind picks up, growing stronger though it should be physically impossible to exist indoors, and purple lightning arcs from his hands, hitting the spot and making it bigger as it crackles around the edges.

"Go," orders the mysterious stranger. "I will be right behind you."

"What sort of sorcery is this?!" demands Inquiere, and Jocasta wastes no more time. The helmet masks the man's presence, but there is a part of her that is certain he is familiar… and that he can be trusted.

She lurches to her feet and steps through the portal. It feels as though something odd buzzes over her skin, and abruptly, she is standing elsewhere in a dim, run-down room. It is as though she has teleported, and unease slithers down her spine. Whatever power her rescuer has obtained is dangerous. Possibly even dark, though she did not sense the Dark in him as she did in Inquiere. Whoever he is, he is no Sith.

Jocasta turns sharply as the Force ripples, and instead of the man following her, the portal closes, disappearing as though it was never there in the first place.

***

Inquiere is furious at this… Jedi – for it must be a Jedi; no one else would be so bold – for helping the Archivist escape. He has spent so long dreaming about the day he would be able to kill Nu for denying him and to have it ripped from his grasp angers him like nothing else could.

"Identity yourself, Jedi," he snarls, reactivating his lightsaber and pointing the red blade toward him.

There is no answer as the helmet turns toward him. It looks… odd somehow, and it feels strange to Inquiere in the Force. It almost seems to be muffling or distorting the Jedi's Force presence. Despite his anger, he is cautious. He has never seen a Force user do what this one has. Making a portal is not a Force ability of which Inquiere has ever heard – although what does he know? Nu kept all the secrets to herself. This man might be an ally of hers, perhaps.

Inquiere steps forward, prowling toward him. It's only a Jedi, and he's alone. Killing him shouldn't be hard. He swings, but the man ducks under it, drawing and igniting a blue lightsaber. He brings it up to meet Inquiere's follow-up strikes, and he seems to be deliberately allowing Inquiere to push him backward.

"Your anger does you a disservice," the stranger says abruptly, sidestepping when Inquiere tries to kick him. "It distracts you."

Inquiere snarls. "It gives me power."

The stranger's words enrage him further, and he lunges at him, trying to land a blow, trying to push him off balance and disarm him. But somehow, the stranger manages to stay one step ahead of him, constantly anticipating and countering Inquiere's blows in a way that few others could. The Force around him is a whirlwind, and Inquiere narrowly manages to throw up a shield to block a Force push that would have hurled him across the room.

As the former head of the Temple Guard, Inquiere is well-versed with the various lightsaber forms, even if he isn't proficient in combat with all of them, and he recognizes the style that the stranger is using as Form VII. Juyo. It startles him because that form is not one that many – if any – Jedi use. He personally knows of no one who uses it.

"You are weak," the stranger tells him, and he almost sounds taunting. "You are no Sith."

Then, he attacks Inquiere in a flurry of blows, fast and furious, and he backpedals, struggling to parry the strikes that would kill him. Not for the first time, Inquiere feels fear rising. This – this Jedi is far stronger than he anticipated, and though he doesn't want to admit to being overwhelmed, he is.

He is, and he knows it. They both know it.

They continue dueling, lightsabers slicing through the desks, floors, and shelves in the Archives, undoubtedly destroying much useful information, but it's not something Inquiere can dwell on. And then it happens. The blue blade slices through the hilt of Inquiere's lightsaber, cutting it in two.

It's instinct for Inquiere to lift a hand, Force shoving the stranger away from as he turns and runs for the halls, heading for the exit of the Temple where the clones are standing guard. He'll lead this Jedi to them and watch them finish him off.

The stranger follows him, and Inquiere slows his pace, so he doesn't give the impression that he's fleeing to the clones. "A Jedi is coming," he says to them. "Kill him."

The dark-robed figure steps into the doorway, at the top of the stairs, and the clones turn their weapons on him, opening fire. He deflects them away with ease, and the Force surges again, rippling and rolling as lightning crackles on his fingertips. It's happening again.

The stranger turns, walking along the ledge outside the Temple instead of trying to cut through the clones like Inquiere had expected he might. He seems unconcerned by the blaster fire, batting it aside as though it's nothing as he pauses, head turned as though looking at something. And then, he jumps.

Off the Temple.

Inquiere lunges forward, and he catches a glimpse of the stranger falling through a portal like the one he created earlier before he's gone – and the portal with him. He barely made out the blur of buildings on the other side, but he knows with certainty that this stranger is still on Coruscant. He activates his comm.

"Inquisitors, assemble," he orders. "There is a dangerous and powerful Jedi Master hiding in the Underworld of Coruscant. I want the planet ripped apart until we find him."

***

Inquiere takes the opportunity to repair his lightsaber while the strike team assembles. He's not holding anything back, not after seeing how strong the man was. And while he waits for the team – and a possible lead of the stranger's location – he considers the encounter, and he begins to wonder… if it is Anakin Skywalker himself. The robes were dark, and the lightsaber blue, much like Skywalker's were. The helmet is new, but of course, he would want to hide his face. He had a darkness to him, and that, too, would match with the Skywalker that Inquiere last saw, the one who was Fallen.

And… he could swear there was a hint of Skywalker's presence inside of the Temple. Skywalker is unmistakable. It has to be him.

If it is Skywalker, they must attack with all their force to destroy him. The Emperor wanted Skywalker captured, but Inquiere thinks that to be foolish. Skywalker is powerful. That kind of power will never bend or break, not when he's already chosen a side.

This stranger, whether Skywalker or not, must die.

It's not until after nightfall that Inquiere receives word that the stranger has been sighted, and he and the team set out immediately, descending into the Underworld. The Dark Side goes with them, wrapping them in a blanket of shadows, but for some reason, it does not bring comfort to him the way it usually does. This time, it feels as though it is whispering a warning. It is murmuring a song of… death.

Hopefully the death of the stranger.

Inquiere brings six Inquisitors with him along with a full platoon of clones who have been assigned to the Inquisitorius as Purge Troopers. The stranger will never escape them.

"Spread out and start searching," Inquiere barks, repaired lightsaber in hand as he stalks down the street.

The troops – and Inquisitors – obey his orders.

He can feel the stranger down here, somewhere nearby, but he can't see him. The streets are dim, dark, like they always are in the Underworld. It's a good place to hide – unless you're a Jedi with one Sith Lord, six Inquisitors, and forty-one clones bearing down at you.

Civilians are quick to scramble out of their way, ducking into alleyways or pressing up against the entrances of buildings as the Imperials spread out.

It takes ten minutes before Inquiere feels the rush of fear and death in the Force mingling with blaster fire, and he activates his comm. "Report," he snaps, hand tightening on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"My Lord, we have a sighting on–"

The clone's report is cut off by a scream, and with a curse, Inquiere spins in the direction from where he senses the chaos. He sees the flashes of light next, a telltale sign that his Inquisitors have engaged the stranger. There are two of them there, so far, and he's still thirty meters from them when the blue lightsaber cuts them down with ease. A quick stab and a kick to push the black Twi'lek aside, followed by a vicious jab that nearly bisects his female companion.

Their bodies crumple to the ground, and Inquiere lunges forward, but the stranger is faster, flipping backward into the shadows.

"Converge on my position," Inquiere yells, running after. He will not let the Jedi get away again.

But the moment he steps into the alleyway, he can see that it's empty. The stranger has vanished as though he was never there, and if not for the bodies, he could have thought it to be merely his imagination.

They keep searching, and Inquiere only sees a flash of the stranger one more time in the next half hour. All they're finding are the bodies.

Purge troopers are lying around, dead from stab wounds or bodies broken from being smashed into the walls. One of them is scorched, as though he was burned. Inquiere does not care about the clones, but it is still disturbing how this keeps happening without any of them seeing him. The stranger is less of a stranger and more of a… specter.

If this is Skywalker, he is far more powerful than Inquiere dreamed.

And he hates – hates the tendrils of fear that are crawling up his throat. He is a Sith. Sith do not fear the Jedi.

And yet.

***

He always knew, from the start, that the Jedi Order would fall. The moment they agreed to the Senate's demands to get involved in the war, Prosset knew it was over for them. He tried to tell Windu, but the Jedi Master refused to listen. They all refused to listen.

And here they are now, scouring the Underworld for yet another Jedi survivor.

It is… odd to work with his former padawan, especially in a setting such as this. They serve the Empire now, but Prosset knows that the bond they share is as deep as it always has been. Bruck had a difficult time when he was younger, but despite his brushes with the Dark Side, he remained a Jedi and was Knighted. He even trained his own padawan, though tragically, she died during the Clone Wars.

They're several blocks away from Lord Inquiere when Prosset feels the eyes on him.

"I feel it, too," Bruck tells him, his voice oddly distorted by the bird head-shaped mask he wears. Though Prosset cannot see it – he is blind – he has heard the other Inquisitors poke fun at the design.

"We must be cautious," Prosset warns, and no sooner than he speaks the words does he feel the Force swell with danger. He spins in time to block the first strike, and he and Bruck fall in sync together as they fight off their attacker. The blows are quick, brutal, and he's forced to back away, knowing even as he does that this Jedi is only playing with them.

He can feel the fear of a nearby civilian, and he uses the Force to throw the individual in front of the Jedi to slow him down so they can pull back and regroup. The Jedi does not hesitate, and Prosset feels the life flicker and die as he pushes toward them anyway. A Jedi who does not care about innocents harmed? That is… unusual.

Bruck cries out as he's thrown against the wall, and Prosset lunges at the Jedi. He does not need eyes to see him, but even as their blades cross, he can hear the snap-hiss of Bruck's lightsaber, as their opponent uses the Force to kill him with his own blade.

Their bond withers, weakens, breaks, and something inside of him dies, too.

That was his padawan.

A blow connects with his exposed chest, and he feels something crunch on impact. He's sent stumbling backward, and he trips on something and crashes hard into the ground.

"I should never have let you live," says a mechanicalized voice. "Lights out, Dibs." It's almost mocking, and it dawns on Prosset, in that moment, who it is.

No, it's not possible. He would never –

White-hot pain explodes in his chest as a lightsaber blade stabs downward, once and then again further down, and the world spirals into darkness.

… And death.

***

Inquiere nearly trips over the electrostaff of a dead purge trooper as he stares incredulously down at his comm. "Dead?" he echoes and then swears. That's four of their Inquisitors dead at the hands of this – this Jedi.

They've even tried using civilians as shields to no avail. The Jedi is not stopping, and Inquiere feels less like a Jedi hunter and more like… well, like Jedi prey. It's not a feeling he cares for.

He sees a flash of blue up ahead and judging by the startled intake of breath from the Inquisitor – the Eighth Brother – next to him, he sees it, too.

They arrive at the scene in time to see Marrok and his head both falling in opposite directions.

All the Inquisitors he was assigned to work with are clearly weak imbeciles.

Inquiere and the Eighth Brother run at the stranger, but a Force-wave catches them, and Inquiere is thrown at a wall hard enough to temporarily stun him. As he struggles back to his feet, he watches, horrified, as the Eighth Brother is yanked forward into the stranger's right hand. He hears the crunch as bones break, and he feels the life disappear into the Force.

He doesn't know what this man, this creature is, but he is no Jedi. He is a predator.

Something that could be amusement flickers, though it feels too… off to truly be considered such. "You are right about one thing," he intones. "I'm the Predator."

And then he lunges.

Inquiere panics, knowing he's next. Six Inquisitors have fallen to this – to the Predator, whoever and whatever he is, and he does not want to be one of them. He gathers all of his desperation, all of his fear and hurls the Force at the coming monster. The stranger doesn't expect it, and he's thrown back. By the time he recovers, Inquiere is spinning his lightsaber as he takes off, using it to fly away to safety.

It might be cowardly to run, but he knows of no other option, and the Emperor must be informed.

He doesn't know why the Predator lets him get away.

***

They don't go back to the Underworld to retrieve the bodies. Inquiere calculates the risk as being far too great with such an opponent still out there on the loose, and he orders all Imperial troopers to stay away from the lower levels of Coruscant.

It's just one Jedi. What can one Jedi do down there all alone, living in the shadows and the garbage heaps?

"What happened down there?" the Emperor demands. He sounds displeased. Though Inquiere had expected no less, he still winces. "I am told you took six Inquisitors and a platoon of Purge troopers with you, but none of them returned."

"The foe we encountered was far greater than I anticipated," Inquiere admits. "His powers are unmatched."

He can feel the withering glare being directed at him. "You are a Sith," he hisses, "or was I too hasty when I picked you to be my apprentice?"

"No, Master," he replies immediately.

"This… Jedi, you encountered, who is he?" Sidious questions.

Inquiere falters. "I– I do not know. He wore a helmet made of a strange material I have never before seen."

"Was it Skywalker?" the Emperor presses, and he sounds… almost intrigued.

"I– no," he answers. "I don't believe it was."

"Do not make assumptions!" The sentence is punctuated by a blast of lightning that brings him to his knees, and suddenly, he realizes why the Predator let him get away. He was to be the messenger to bring the news to Sidious.

"I saw a hologram of the Jedi," the Emperor continues, voice suddenly calmer. "The clones guarding the Temple recorded him." Something in his voice tells Inquiere that Sidious knows more than he's saying. "He is dangerous. Very dangerous. We must track him down at all costs – though I cannot trust you to complete the task. Every time there has been a Jedi sighting, they always get away from you." His voice sharpens, turning warning. "It seems I must show you how to kill a Jedi, apprentice."

It goes without saying that if Inquiere continues to fall short, he will be replaced.

And that is not something he can allow to happen. He needs to start training harder. Perhaps he should look into learning Form VII. That way he will be able to take down this… Predator and please his master.

***

Jocasta is… alarmed.

A look around the apartment to which she was sent has revealed another ancient artifact from the Jedi Temple, this one arguably much more dangerous than the Mask of Venamis.

It's too ancient to be a holocron, and it's unknown when it was created, but it was retrieved at the same time as the Mask was. Known as the Mystery of Abeloth, the artifact contains information the Jedi Council labeled as dangerous and not to be studied under any circumstances. The Jedi Master who wrote the report – Vernestra Rwoh – actually requested that it be destroyed, but its destruction never came to pass for reasons unknown to Jocasta.

She doesn't know why this artifact is here, but it… concerns her.

The door to the apartment opens, and her rescuer enters, still wearing the Mask. He reaches up, pulling the helmet off.

The face of Mace Windu stares back at her.

Chapter Text

Two months earlier

Lightning consumes him, whiting out his senses with pain, and Windu can’t even scream as he’s thrown through the shattered window.

Then, he falls, and it’s only through sheer luck that he’s able to use the Force to cushion himself as he slams into a building, gravity dragging him inexorably downward. When he hits the ground, he’s lucky that he doesn’t break half of the bones in his body. It’s only due to a last-minute desperate tug on the Force that saves him from death, the residual power of his Vaapad use and the Dark energy Sidious hurled at him fueling him.

His body is aching, pain stabbing through his nerve endings – pain from the electrocution and from his right wrist being severed. His head hurts, too, and it’s only now, crumpled into a heap on the duracrete that Windu realizes he cannot see out of his right eye. Dimly, he remembers feeling the pain as his kyber crystal shattered, lightsaber exploding. Something must have hit him in the eye. He’s bruised and bleeding, nearly dead, but he draws on the Force, dragging himself into an alley to hide.

Sidious won, and that means the galaxy is doomed.

Windu has not managed to catch his breath and siphon away the worst of his pain before he feels the wave of death and darkness washing across the galaxy. He shuts himself off from it as much as he can, but he knows he lost. They lost. The Jedi are…

Gone.

They’re gone, but that is not something on which he can focus, not right now. Survival comes first. Vengeance comes later.

He locates his mostly destroyed lightsaber and finds a stray scarf which he uses to hide his face from view as he limps through the alleys, searching for someone who can help him. Though he is not as skillful as a trained Jedi Shadow might be, Windu still knows people who are friendly to the Jedi. It is to one of them that he goes, and there, he finds shelter. He doesn’t stay long, only long enough to heal from the electrocution and get a prosthetic hand to replace the one he lost.

His right eye is… damaged. When his kyber crystal exploded, a shard embedded itself in his eye socket, causing him to lose his vision. Physical vision. His Force vision is a whole other story, and he will need time and training to adjust to seeing without seeing. The crystal is a part of him, and kyber is more strongly connected to the Force than many other materials. He may be able to master a form of sight that is unheard of, but that, too, will come later.

First, he finds a small, rundown apartment where he can hide out. No one will look here – it was kept for Jedi Shadows, and he doubts the Empire will come this far down in the Underworld. Here, he can recover and plan his next moves. The Sith may have won – temporarily – but he will not allow them to remain in control of the Republic.

No, the Empire, because the first move Palpatine made was to reform the Republic into a galactic Empire. That, too, is something Windu does not know how to process. The Republic endured for a thousand years, far longer than any Jedi has been alive. He grew up knowing that it would be his duty to serve the Republic and to protect it, and when the Clone Wars broke out, that role became even more important. Being a Jedi became synonymous with fighting for the Republic and for freedom, and Windu does not know who he is without that.

He is a Jedi, and that means he must fight for the Republic, except… there is no Republic left. Fighting from the shadows is not a thing to which the Jedi are accustomed. They worked together as an organization, but there is no Order left. The knowledge rings hollowly, and Windu struggles to accept these unexpected changes. The Jedi sacrificed so many of their ideals for the war. They gave up their way of life at the behest of the Senate, the same Senate which is so publicly in support of the new-Emperor’s actions against the Jedi Order.

After everything they sacrificed, they still lost. They lost, yet that is not an outcome Windu can accept. He is a Jedi. He cannot put down his lightsaber until he has finished the fight, no matter what it takes. He has lost… everything. Everyone. If he is the last of the Jedi, then he cannot stop fighting in the names of all his brothers and sisters who lost their lives due to the machinations of the Sith. Of Sidious.

The Order is gone, but he, at least, is still here, and he will not stop.

He cannot stop.

Time has no meaning down in the Underworld, so Windu does not know how many weeks it has been when he ventures to the surface and sneaks into the Temple. He obtains supplies to rebuild his lightsaber and borrows another one, a blue one. Blue is a color that many Jedi use, and should he use his purple saber in public, Sidious may learn of his survival. Better to keep it hidden.

He also enters the secret vault in which the Council stores dangerous artifacts. For a while, he considers destroying everything inside so the Sith cannot get their hands on them, but then… he hesitates. Some of them could be useful.

In the end, he takes one of them back to his apartment. It’s one he’s heard of vaguely, and it feels… important somehow.

Windu hides in the Underworld for weeks, recovering, learning how to adapt to a prosthetic, experimenting with how his kyber eye might work. He also studies the artifact, and he realizes how useful the knowledge contained therein will be. He will need any advantage he can get for the next time he goes after Sidious. And it is a when. Though he lost the first time, he does not intend to lose again. He cannot afford to lose again. The galaxy depends on it.

And then, a full two months after the formation of the Empire – and his own fall into the Underworld – Windu leaves. He goes back to the Temple and retrieves a special mask from the forbidden vault. He is ready to destroy Sidious.

But when he sees Jocasta Nu, he helps her, and as he does, he formulates a new plan.

He will not fight like Sidious would expect a Jedi to. It would be too predictable. No, he will fight from the shadows. He will fight like a shadow, like the predator that the Fallen Jedi accused him of being.

For Sidious does not just have one Fallen Jedi on his side. He has many, and he has the most powerful Jedi of all.

Anakin Skywalker.

Windu felt his presence soaking the walls of the Temple, saturated with darkness that only a Fallen Jedi turned Sith could achieve. Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side and helped in the destruction of the Jedi Order.

Perhaps the prophecy was wrong.

***

One month later

Jocasta doesn’t stay. Windu had not expected her to. She isn’t a fighter, and she has chosen her own path, which is different from his, though it’s no less important. He continues to train, practice, and prepare for the coming fight. He also searches for other survivors, though he finds none. If there are any here on Coruscant, they are well hidden. Undoubtedly, there are Jedi on other worlds, but they are of no use to him now.

The Coruscant Underworld is the last place Sidious would expect to find him, and after the message he sent back to the Empire by letting the Fallen Jedi escape, he knows he is safe down here. Imperial forces will not return. At first, he had not been so certain, but as time passed, and when he saw that the bodies were left down here to rot, he knew.

Sidious is no fool, and he will not waste resources to track down and destroy a Jedi he does not even know. The Empire will come for him, eventually, but for now, Windu knows he is safe.

He works to expand his network, searching for those who are still favorable to the Jedi. Cantinas are a good source of information, but the more he goes to them, the more he finds himself giving in to the very un-Jedi-like desire to drink. Drinking for show turns into something else. It’s not the Jedi way, and Windu feels so small amount of shame at it, but he – it is hard to be the only surviving Jedi. Once, he could have gone to Master Yoda with his troubles or turned to any number of other colleagues. They struggled together and supported each other, but down here, he is alone, and the Underworld is a dark place.

Meditation, which was always his normal answer to conflicted feelings, is all but impossible. When he reaches into the Force, all he feels is the death that soaks it. The galaxy is filled with thar Darkness, and with the Jedi gone, the Light has dimmed. There is no peace to be found in the Force.

Alcohol numbs the pain. He cannot feel quite so keenly the weight of death and despair that soaks the air if he drinks.

It isn’t the answer, and Windu knows it, but it is also not preventing him from reaching his goal, so he doesn’t try to stop. There will be time for that later when there is actually hope.

So, what if he ends up being involved in a few barfights when he hears someone slandering the Jedi – his deceased brothers and sisters? They’re too far down in the Underworld for someone to suspect him as being anything other than a Jedi sympathizer, and there are thousands down here already. There is no reason for anyone to think he could be a Jedi. Still, he’s careful, just in case. No need to take unnecessary risks.

He kills sometimes, criminals and other potential threats to his existence. He doesn’t like to kill, of course, but he grows used to it. Numb to it. After he killed everyone the Empire sent down except one Fallen Jedi, Windu has forced himself to adjust to this new life. He isn’t a Jedi Master anymore. He’s…

In the eyes of the Repub– Empire, he’s a traitor. These are difficult times, and what matters most is finding a way to bring down Sidious and his allies, so the Republic can return. There is a price to be paid, and that price is blood. The people he kills are not innocents.

Time blurs together, so he doesn’t know how many weeks it is before he stumbles on an ally. An agent of Saw Gerrera contacts him, and Windu realizes that this is his answer. Here is someone who can help him. This is someone with whom he can begin to build a network to fight back. It’s the first time he leaves Coruscant, stealing aboard a transport and making his way to Onderon. Gerrera and his rebels are more than open to working with him, and Windu helps them there, attacking an Imperial garrison.

He is not merely making a point and striking another blow to the Empire. It is also his declaration of war. He will fight, and he will kill. He will do whatever he has to do to take down the Empire and restore the Republic. Without the Republic, the galaxy will descend into chaos, and they have come too far and done too much to stop now.

Killing the clones is… It is.

Windu has never been as close with the clones as some other Jedi, but he still valued their lives deeply. He was responsible for them, and they were living beings. He thought he could trust them, but… he was wrong. The clones turned on the Jedi without a second thought. Whatever protection he thought he owed him was baseless. He does not want to hurt them, per se, but they sided with the Empire, and by doing so, they made themselves enemies of the Jedi.

They helped destroy the Order. Windu doesn’t owe them anything, not anymore.

Palpatine thinks he’s won. He thinks that now that he’s the Emperor, he’s safe. He thinks that the war is over.

Palpatine is wrong.

The war is just beginning.

***

Obi-Wan studies the information that Bail collected about the unknown individual, trying to pinpoint a pattern of attack so he can figure out where Anakin might be hiding. It must be Anakin. Who else could be going around the galaxy, causing so much chaos while never being caught?

He should have known that Anakin would never be able to give up the fight. He is too passionate. Too good. He cares so deeply, but it is that passion which might yet save the galaxy. If anyone can bring down Sidious, it is Anakin. Anakin will find a way through sheer stubborn determination because that is what he has always done, and Obi-Wan needs to be there to make sure his former padawan doesn’t die before the end.

But no matter how much investigating he does, the attacks seem fully random. The dates and times are… well, they’re random. Anakin would not strike without purpose, so whatever the reasoning is, Obi-Wan is unable to see it. Maybe he’s overlooking something, or perhaps he is missing a key piece of information which is making it impossible for him to understand what he is seeing.

Either way, the intel is unlikely to make more sense, even if he meditates on it. It’s time to leave Alderaan. He needs to go out and start searching on his own. Anakin is out there, and he will find him. It’s been over half a year – almost six months – since the Empire formed.

He lives in the Alderaanian palace, in a mostly unused guest wing. The only people who know he is here are those Bail trusts implicitly, and the cover story is that he’s a distant relative who lost his family. He keeps to himself, preferring solitude to the company of others, but Bail was gracious enough to give him a place to stay after he lost everything. It’s close enough to the truth that no one asks questions.

It’s nearly evening, late enough that Bail and Breha have undoubtedly retired to their private chambers, which means Obi-Wan can go to them and tell them he’s leaving. He takes the servant’s corridors, going through back halls and secret passageways to avoid being seen.

He’s halfway there when he feels the Force ripple and hears the scream. It’s instinct that makes him turn toward it and go to investigate. The scream came from one of the guest rooms, and Obi-Wan glances in cautiously to see an Imperial officer – Bail had mentioned that the Empire sent someone here to presumably spy on him under the guise of finalizing some agreements – hanging in the air. He’s clawing at his throat, trying to break away from an unseen attacker. Someone is using the Force on him.

Obi-Wan’s heart skips a beat, and he hesitates for only a moment before bolting into the room. “Stop!” he yells when he sees a dark-robed figure standing there, hand outstretched.

The Force shifts as the officer – Barokki or something like that – is yanked forward. There’s a snap-hiss as a blue lightsaber ignites, stabbing the man in the abdomen and sliding upward to nearly bisect him. The body falls to the floor with a dull thump.

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan demands. The description matches that of the individual that Bail gave him the intel on, but that means nothing. It could be someone else entirely. He can feel a sense of familiarity from the Jedi, though there is something… elusive about him.

For a long moment, there is no answer, and then, “… Kenobi,” says a mechanicalized voice, distorted by the vocoder of a helmet.

Obi-Wan steps closer, hand falling to the hilt of his lightsaber. “Stand down,” he orders.

“Tell me where he is,” the stranger demands.

“… Who?”

But he can feel the Force pressing on his mind as this Jedi tries to rip through his shields and find something. He doesn’t hesitate to ignite his lightsaber, and the stranger lunges at him, their blades crashing together. Obi-Wan can’t make out who it is, and he feels a stab of shock when he catches sight of the helmet concealing the man’s face. He knows that helmet. He’s seen it before, in the secret vault located deep within the Temple.

Who is this Jedi? Is he even a real Jedi?

It takes all of Obi-Wan’s focus to avoid being injured or killed as he fights off his mysterious attacker. The stranger stops suddenly, pulling back. “He is not here,” he intones, stepping back. He turns, leaping through the window and disappearing into the night before Obi-Wan can follow. He takes a moment to catch his breath, knowing how fortunate he is. That could have gone so much worse. The rogue Jedi, whoever he is, is powerful. Obi-Wan is lucky to have avoided injury.

Bail is concerned when Obi-Wan tells him the news. By the morning, no traces of the man have been found. All they were able to ascertain is that he is heading to Coruscant, though for what purpose remains to be seen. With no signs of Anakin and a greater mystery in front of him, Obi-Wan decides to follow. He wants to know who this mysterious Jedi is… and who he was trying to find.

He is going to Coruscant, no matter how foolish or risky that may be.

***

The Seventh Sister stares at the readouts on her datapad, watching the live feed as her droids comb through the Underworld, searching for traces of the Predator. He has not been seen again since the Empire sent forces after him who never returned. The only survivor was Lord Inquiere, but they haven’t stopped looking. The Predator is good at hiding, she’ll grant him that. Sending small droids to locate him covertly seems to be working best. They sent probes once, but they were all neutralized in short order, either by him or by other criminals.

Her datapad pings, and she pulls up the screen, looking at what the droid is telling her. Her heart skips a beat, but it doesn’t change.

There has been a match, not for the Predator, but for someone else.

Another highly sought after Jedi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

A grin spreads across her face. The Emperor will love this.

Chapter Text

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd stepped in," Aayla says softly.

Anakin startles, turning away from the window where he was staring out at the dunes, trying to figure out what to do next. Ruling a planet is exhausting. He never realized how much work it would be to ensure everyone has food, clothing, and shelter. Wiping out slavers and attempted criminal uprisings keeps him up late into the night, and once he had to rely on his alter ego, the Shadow, to suppress it. It's taking so much longer to secure Tatooine than he anticipated, and that doesn't even begin to touch on the strange visions he's been having, either.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

Aayla sighs. "I was here once before with my master," she explains. "We were on an undercover mission, and I– I knew when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon came here. I saw them."

His heart summersaults and plummets. "Oh," he answers, staring. He didn't know that. She's never told him that before.

"I thought– after I heard what happened, I wondered if I should have gotten involved and tried to help," she continues. "If I'd helped Qui-Gon, he might not have… died, and we might have learned about the Sith sooner."

Anakin crosses the room, sitting down at her side. "Aayla, there was nothing you could have done," he tells her. "I will always mourn Qui-Gon, but we cannot understand the Force's ways. If it was his time, we could not have saved him."

He didn't know what it was that was troubling her until now, but he knew that there was guilt over something which has been keeping her here with him. He could feel it, and when he asked her if she wanted to leave Tatooine and see if she could find any other survivors, she had declined. Though she had not explained why, Anakin could sense that her feelings of regret were holding her back.

But in truth, he is grateful to have her here. He knows he can rely on her, and she's a good friend. He can confide in her, and she will understand him in way that Owen and Beru cannot – they were not Jedi like he and Aayla.

"Alright, what about you?" she questions. "I know something is on your mind."

"Ruling Tatooine," he deadpans, and she smacks his arm, almost laughing.

"Not that."

Anakin looks away. "I keep seeing a planet. The Force is calling to me, telling me to go there."

Her brow furrows, lekku twitching slightly. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I have tried meditating on it to no avail."

Aayla pauses, considering it. "Joint meditation? With all three of us?"

Anakin wants to say no because he doesn't know what the Force is trying to tell him, and he doesn't know if it's something he's willing to let Reva see, and yet… he knows Aayla has a point. If they focus together, they may uncover what the Force is saying. "… Fine."

It's later in the day, during the nap they always take at noon when the suns are highest, when they settle down to meditate. Anakin feels Reva's soft presence brushing up against his along with Aayla's, and they fall into the Force together. They keep him from becoming lost as he opens himself to the currents of the Force, searching for the vision that has been haunting him and letting it drown him.

He sees it again, that same planet. He sees the same silhouetted ruins of a wrecked ship, and he forces himself to focus. He allows himself to drift further.

And that's when he sees it. The barest glimpse of a face, a face he knows so very well. He sees the body, frozen in stasis, and Anakin knows.

He jolts back to himself, eyes flying open. "Kix," he breathes, and there are so many feelings vibrating through him, drowning him. "Kix." Kix is alive. When he disappeared, Anakin hadn't known what had befallen him, but now he knows. The Force is telling him that it's time. It's time to bring his missing brother home, and perhaps – perhaps he can begin to make up for what he did to the clones. The guilt of it haunts him. He hurt them. He killed Appo. He killed so many of the clones at the Temple.

It wasn't their fault. He shouldn't have done that. They did not deserve to die so the Jedi could live. He should have found a way to save them all.

"I need to find him." He looks between Reva and Aayla, seeing the quiet understanding in the Twi'lek's eyes, and the unspoken worry in his daughter's.

"I can come!" Reva offers immediately, hopefully.

Anakin shakes his head. "I don't know what I'll be walking into." He takes her hand, squeezing it. "Besides, Aayla could use your help to rule Tatooine in my absence. I won't be gone long."

Her expression scrunches, and he can feel her discontent acutely. "But–!"

"Reva," he interrupts, and she goes quiet, sulking. He pulls her closer, an arm around her shoulders as he tucks her into his side. "I'll be okay. I need to do this. I need to save him."

She slumps, burying her face against his neck. "I don't want you to go."

"I know," he answers, cradling her close. "I know."

But the Force is calling him, and he has to go. He leaves the following night. Finding the right planet is easy with the Force, and he takes the modified starfighter as he leaves Tatooine for the first time in months. It's strange to leave, and he's surprised by how alone he feels once he's in hyperspace. He misses his new family. He misses Reva, Owen, Beru, Aayla, Kitster, and even Muchi the rancor. He never thought he could call Tatooine his home, but it undeniably is.

The Force guides him, pushes him onward, and it isn't hard to locate the wreck that he's seen in his visions. It's easier still to find the stasis pod containing Kix, and for a long moment, Anakin stands there staring at it, heart hammering wildly in his chest. Kix is in there, and he knows that when he sees him again, when he talks to him, the aching longing for Rex and all of his boys will hit him with a vengeance.

He still doesn't know what happened to them.

A part of him is afraid to know.

Anakin activates the pod, and he nearly stops breathing when he feels Kix's Force presence flickering back to wakefulness. He hadn't seen him in months before the Empire formed, and he has missed him so much. He thought Kix was dead. They all thought he was dead.

"Where– where am I?" Kix rasps.

"Kix," Anakin replies, and he has to pause as emotions choke him. "Kix, you're safe now."

Kix jolts forward, grabbing at him. "General," he says, and in the Force, his emotions are a storm, "there's something I need to tell you. I found something out. I kept investigating after– after Fives, and somehow, they found out. The Seppies captured me. They were gonna take me to the Sith to find out who I told. I didn't tell anyone. I–"

Anakin feels the grief rise to choke him, and he gently grasps Kix's shoulders. "Take a breath, Kix," he says quietly. "It's been a long time since you've been captured."

Panic and dread flash across the medic's face. "How– how long, sir?"

"Too long," Anakin whispers. "I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner."

Kix looks away, blinking rapidly as he tries to process and reorient himself after so long in stasis. "It's– it's too late?" he asks, his voice going high.

Anakin squeezes his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he repeats and feels his heart break as Kix's expression shatters.

If he had been able to listen to Fives, if he'd paid more attention when Kix disappeared, maybe they could have avoided all of this. Maybe the clones could have been spared. Maybe the Jedi could have been saved. But it's too late for any of that. All they can do is keep living with the truth of their reality as it is, burdened by the knowledge of the things they could have changed… and didn't.

***

He was following orders.

These are the consequences that Mas Amedda warned him about, and Rampart struggles against the guards dragging him out of the Senate chamber. He didn't do it. It wasn't him. It was Tarkin! Tarkin gave him the orders, but it's too late. He's out of the room, and all the snarls and curses in the galaxy no longer make a difference.

Rampart is seething as the clones drag him through the halls. The Emperor ordered this, covering up the truth because it would look too bad on him. On Tarkin. And what is he, then? He followed their orders.

It doesn't matter.

No one cares.

He doesn't immediately sense the disturbance, and it's not until he feels the static in the air, his hair standing on end, that Rampart actually focuses on his surroundings. The hallway is windy, but that doesn't make sense. They're indoors. Something changes around him, and he sees a dark, murky hole ringed with crackling, purple electricity open at the end of the corridor. A scream catches in his throat, and he hears a swear from one of the Shocktroopers next to him.

They raise their blasters as they shift in front of him, moving to intercept whatever… this is.

Something lifts them off the floor, and Rampart scrambles back instinctively as they grab for their throats, trying to breathe. A… Jedi? Here?

Purple lightning arcs from the portal, emanating from the hand of a shadow, masked, dark-robed figure on the other side, hitting the clones and sending them flying down the hall. Their cries fill the air, and Rampart has only a moment to see them – their bodies on fire with amethyst flames – before he's yanked forward.

Through the portal.

This time, he does scream, but his breath is ripped from his lungs as he passes through the staticky energy, crashing hard onto a duracrete floor. Energy jolts into his body, and the world goes dark.

***

Even though the truth came out, it doesn't matter. It was easy enough to put the blame solely on Rampart's head. The public will hold him – and the clones under him – responsible, and the stormtrooper program will move forward. It is vital that the clones be eliminated, so the threat they could – and will – pose is neutralized before it grows too great.

Satisfaction swiftly melts into concern when Sidious senses the disturbance in the Force. It warns him of danger, of something dark and twisted that makes him uneasy in a way he doesn't like. It doesn't take long for the report to come in that Rampart is gone. Sidious leaves the Senate chamber to go to the scene of the escape himself, knowing that something is very, very wrong. All he sees there are the bodies, burned and blackened almost beyond recognition. The cameras that recorded the corridor only picked up a shadowy distortion. Rampart was yanked through it and then he was gone.

It's the Predator. It must be.

Whoever it is, they are… crafty. This it the first confirmed sighting on Coruscant since the attack months ago.

Sidious pretends that his uneasiness isn't growing from moment to moment. The Predator has struck again. He issues an order that all Imperial forces be on alert for the masked vigilante, and only an hour later, he receives yet another report. This one is from one of the Inquisitors. The Seventh Sister. She is reporting a confirmed sighting on Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He's here. On Coruscant. In the Underworld. Right now.

Maybe Sidious was too quick to assume that the Predator was Skywalker. Perhaps it has been Kenobi all this time.

It is time for the hunter to become the hunted.

Kenobi will die.

***

It's been a month since Obi-Wan left Alderaan and came to Coruscant. So far, he has seen so signs of any other Jedi… at least not living ones. Rumors spread down here, and he has run into many brief allies and other individuals who are happy to whisper half-truths that inspire fear. There was a Jedi down here. Or at least there was someone, and Obi-Wan was directed to the scene of where the "Jedi" was last seen.

The air reeks of the Dark, and he sees the rotting corpses there, stripped of anything valuable. If there was a Jedi, they are either dead or long gone. He doesn't know what it was that happened here, but it looks less like a battle and more like a slaughter.

There are no answers to be found, though, and Obi-Wan is not a master of psychometry like Quinlan, so he keeps moving. Eventually, he finds… her.

The little Zabrak girl only comes halfway up his chest. Her face is pale and dirty, and she's too thin for her age. Her brown eyes are shadowed by grief and pain, but they're also filled with courage. She's strong. And she's a Jedi youngling.

"Master Kenobi," she says, her presence brushing softly against his before recoiling away.

"You're a Jedi," Obi-Wan says numbly. How long has this child been struggling to live on her own down here? Is she alone? "Are there others here, too?"

She shakes her head, messy hair falling into her face. "Master Nema told me to run when the attack happened," she answers. "I felt…" She trails off, hesitating. She doesn't complete the thought.

Obi-Wan studies her. She's familiar, but he cannot remember her name. "You've been on your own?"

"Yes," she replies quietly, "but it's fine." She studies his face, and he feels as though she can see him in ways he is unfamiliar with. Uncomfortable with, even. "Mill Alibeth," she tells him. "I don't know if you remember me." The last part is almost shy.

His eyes widen. Oh. Oh. "I– yes, I remember," he answers. How could he have forgotten the little youngling tagging after Anakin on Cato Neimoidia? She was the one who made him realize that Anakin would be good with a padawan. It's why he ensured that Anakin got Ahsoka.

She shifts, arms wrapping around her body. "I– I've been helping whoever I can."

She's so young, so young, but she's so strong, too. So determined and courageous. No matter what Mill has endured, she is still a true Jedi.

"You shouldn't be down here," Obi-Wan murmurs, hand settling on her shoulder. "I–"

And that's when he feels the danger.

It's whispering, screaming, and he draws his lightsaber instinctively, whipping around and cutting through a small probe droid that was attempting to sneak up on him. Kriff.

"Here." He shoves his ration bars and some credits into her hands. "Go!" He knows that he must have been spotted, and now, the Empire will be after him. It's no place for a child.

"But what about you?" she asks. She's scared for him.

He glances back at her, already turning away. She'll be fine. She's survived this long, and she doesn't look like a Jedi. The Empire won't pay her any attention when they have him. "I'll survive."

Obi-Wan does not look back at Mill Alibeth as he hurries down the streets of Coruscant. He feels as though he's being watched, though, no matter what he does. No matter where he turns. The Empire is coming. The Force is crackling with tension, and he reaches for it, pulling the Light close to him as he prepares for the inevitable. He doesn't know who will come: if it will be a battalion of troopers or a Fallen Jedi.

He feels the storm of Darkness before it arrives, and he throws himself to the ground, rolling aside instinctively as a dark-robed figure jumps down at him. A red lightsaber ignites, nearly taking off his head, but he draws his own in time to block the blow. Blue meets red, and despite the glaring light and the darkness all around them, Obi-Wan recognizes his attacker.

"Sidious," he spits, taking a step back.

Anger rises instinctively – this is the man who destroyed the Jedi Order. This is the man who tore apart the galaxy and forced it to kneel at his feet because he sought power.

The Sith's yellow eyes flash. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. Or should I call you the Predator?"

Obi-Wan startles at that. What? What is he talking about? But Sidious doesn't give Obi-Wan a chance to respond to that bizarre statement.

"You are messing with powers you cannot even begin to fathom, Master Kenobi," he snarls.

"Oh, and you aren't?" Obi-Wan retorts. His voice is ice. He steps back, letting Sidious push the attack, parrying the Sith's strikes with quick, precise movements that waste no energy. This is what he's been trained for. Fighting a Sith is never easy, but defense is always the best option. Defense and not overestimating them.

He won't repeat the mistake he made on Geonosis when fighting Dooku. No one will be coming to his aid this time, and he will not die down here at Sidious' hands.

"I do not fear the Dark Side like you do," Sidious answers. Victory is in his eyes. He knows he hasn't won – yet – but he is certain of his inevitable victory. "I have studied it. I do not shun it."

"Only the weak embrace the Dark," Obi-Wan replies. Sidious' blade crosses against his own once more, and Obi-Wan holds him off, breaking the saberlock and ducking away when Sidious tries to impale him. The Force is his strength. The Light is with him. The Dark is an unfaithful ally as Sidious will come to see eventually.

"You are closer to the Dark than you choose to accept," Sidious mocks.

It is true, unfortunately, that Obi-Wan has struggled with balance ever since the Jedi fell. He has never been able to center himself the way he did earlier. The war eroded at him, chipped away at his ability to remain firmly in the Light. And then the Jedi were destroyed, and everything shattered. He is not Fallen, but he knows – he knows the Sith Master is right.

And he hates it.

A part of him craves vengeance for the blood of all of his fellow Jedi who have died. He wants to destroy Sidious for what he did to the Order. So many innocents died, all because one man craved power.

"The Dark calls to you," the Sith purrs, and Obi-Wan grits his teeth to resist the words.

The Force is with him, and he is one with the Force.

Their lightsabers meet in a deadly dance of red versus blue, and they work their way down the street, blades slashing through the walkways, grazing the sides of nearby buildings, and even cutting down a few light posts. Obi-Wan is keenly aware of the growing number of people who are observing him, just as he knows of the Imperial reinforcements who are arriving to aid the Emperor when he needs them.

But right now, this isn't about them.

It's about them.

Him and Sidious.

Anakin's chosen master versus the master who wanted to enslave him.

The Light versus the Dark.

They're evenly matched, with Sidious attacking and Obi-Wan defending, and Obi-Wan doesn't know which of them will come out on top – not that he has time to dwell on it anyway. He's more focused on staying alive and remaining one step ahead of the Sith master.

An unexpected Force shove throws him back against a wall, but he recovers quickly, steadying himself as he braces for the coming attack. Maybe he should up his game a little. Sidious is expecting him to defend, but Obi-Wan is skilled in more than just Soresu… and he's counting on the Sith master not being prepared for it.

He shifts into the opening stance of Ataru, the first form he learned and one at which he is still proficient, even if he knows Soresu better. He watches with some satisfaction as a surprised yet calculating expression flits across Sidious' face.

Good.

Sidious wasn't anticipating it. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't. He's just good at preparing for all possibilities… and Obi-Wan is good at letting people underestimate him.

Chapter Text

Windu has been working tirelessly for months now and with the death of the Imperial officer on Alderaan, he has gotten a foothold into the Empire.

And they don’t even know it.

Rumors run rampant in the Underworld, and when he heard whispers of an aspiring Imperial who covertly obtained codes that allow him to remotely access the Emperor’s office, Windu knew what he had to do. In the whole scheme of things, Barokki meant nothing, but through him, Windu has gotten something which will serve him well.

With the codes he has obtained, he will be able to splice into the Imperial network and issue orders that will be followed without question. Those who receive them will think they are being given a command by the Emperor himself. He will need to use them wisely because he suspects it will not take long for the Imperials to realize it. But it has given him an advantage, nevertheless.

Perhaps if he gets ahold of a skilled droid, he can use the codes to tamper with the network itself so he has permanent backdoor access, but that is something he will need to consider later.

And now he’s gotten ahold of another prize.

Rampart.

With the intel he undoubtedly possesses given what his rank was, Windu stands a chance of doing a lot more damage to the Empire, especially with what – who he just found.

He stands in the shadows, helmet under his arm as he watches the modified Omicron-class attack shuttle fly away. Maybe he was wrong about how all the clones are pro-Empire, but that does not change the fact that most of them are now traitors.

He waits for a heartbeat and then steps forward.

The two clones who are there, along with Senator Chuchi, startle, instinctively whipping out their blasters as they whirl toward them. They freeze, and then slowly lower their weapons, obviously recognizing him as a former Jedi.

“General?” Captain Rex asks incredulously.

“No,” Windu replies, reaching up to push back his hood. He can feel their shock in the Force.

“General Windu,” ARC trooper Echo blurts out, eyes widening. Windu remembers him well from Anaxes. It is… heartening to see that at least some of the clones are not blindly loyal to Sidious.

“What happened to you?” Rex asks, no doubt taking in the purple shard of kyber embedded in his face. Windu knows he’s changed. They all have.

“Palpatine happened,” he replies. “I have someone for you.” He uses the Force to drag the unconscious Rampart forward, dropping his body at their feet. “I had a talk with him. When he awakens, I think you will find that he will be willing to tell you anything to get back at the Empire.”

“I– General–” Rex begins, obviously overwhelmed and shocked, no matter how good he is at hiding it.

“Master Windu, thank you,” Senator Chuchi says earnestly.

“No thanks are needed,” Windu interrupts. “I will be in touch. There is something else I must do.” He turns away, stepping into the shadows and sliding his helmet over his head, sealing out the rest of the world. He has Rex and his clones on his side. Possibly some Senators, too. Now, he needs to find some Jedi, and he knows exactly where to look.

The headquarters of the Inquisitorious.

They will undoubtedly have a list of all the Jedi suspected to have survived the Purge and armed with that knowledge, Windu will be able to find more Jedi who can join him.

Together, they will make the Empire burn.

He grabs the Force and rips, stepping through space into the fortress of those who have Fallen. He will show them that they are not safe from the Predator, not even in their own home.

***

Obi-Wan dives forward, but Sidious backflips to avoid him, and suddenly, there’s a second lightsaber in the Sith’s other hand. It gives Obi-Wan pause because dueling a Jar’Kai wielder is a little trickier than fighting someone with only one saber. But he trained with Jar’Kai, too, so he knows how to defend against it.

“You will never defeat me,” Sidious gloats, and then, he lunges. He’s a whirlwind of fury and Darkness, coming at Obi-Wan with his blood-red blades, but where Sidious is a storm, Obi-Wan is the eye of it. Obi-Wan is the cold, unbiased justice of the Light, while Sidious is the scorching, lying power of the Dark.

“We’ll see,” Obi-Wan answers coolly.

Their blades meet, and no matter where Sidious goes, Obi-Wan is there to meet him, his blade a deadly extension of him, as the Light guides and protects him. Maybe alone, maybe if Obi-Wan had enough time, he could destroy Sidious, defeat him where everyone else failed. Perhaps. But they are not alone, and the moment the Sith master falters, his minions will step in on his behalf.

It doesn’t matter. Obi-Wan is not just fighting for himself. He is fighting in the name of all those innocents who have fallen to Sidious’ machinations. They give him a strength that he might be lacking in himself. Most other Jedi would fall to him, but not Obi-Wan. This is what he was trained for. This is what he has been known for.

He was the first to defeat a Sith in a thousand years, and he earned that title over and over, training himself and pushing himself again and again to go further. To be better. He had to be the best, the master of Soresu so that he could protect Anakin if Anakin was unable to protect himself. He could never allow himself to stand by idly again and watch as someone he loves gets cuts down.

Obi-Wan is not known as the Master of Soresu for nothing, and it shows now, in the way Sidious drives him back, in the way the Sith tries to get through his defenses but never quite succeeds.

Obi-Wan rolls out of the way of Sidious’ next strike, bracing himself as he slips into Ataru and attacks back. He knows it won’t get him far because Sidious is wielding two blades, and it’s easier to defend than attack, but this has gone on for long enough, and if he can throw Sidious off-balance long enough, he can run. He’s not stupid. He knows that in a one-on-one duel, he might come out on top, but he has to keep in mind the reinforcements waiting to step in the moment their Emperor commands it.

Running is the best option he has.

If he runs, he’ll live to fight another day.

Sidious falters a bit at the unexpected barrage of blows, and Obi-Wan can feel the growing Darkness around him. He hurls Obi-Wan back with the Force, and in the time Obi-Wan is getting back to his feet, the Sith master has lifted his hands to unleash lightning on him. He raises his lightsaber to block the attack. The lightning is intense and bright enough that he has to close his eyes against it, letting the Force guide him.

He can feel the approaching Force presences, the Imperials closing in on him, and he knows that he’ll never be able to fend off both them and Sidious at once.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, trusts the Force to strengthen him… and extinguishes his lightsaber. The Force guides him, and he forms a shield, catching the lightning being hurled at him and deflecting it aside with the Force alone. It’s a lot, almost overwhelming, but the Light is with him. In the end, Light will always triumph over Dark.

They’re at a stalemate, and Obi-Wan knows that he has to play this carefully. He lets the energy crackling against his palms build and build until it’s almost too much, and then, he lets it go. It explodes outward, throwing Sidious away from him and blasting the two of them apart. Obi-Wan allows it to carry him away, flipping over the edge of the walkway and falling deeper into the Underworld.

He catches himself with the Force when he hits the ground, rolling to his feet and hurrying away. It’s easy to disappear down here, and he’s careful to keep his hood up and head down as he walks through the streets. He doesn’t know if Anakin is on Coruscant or not, but he’s leaning towards the not, especially after this. It probably doesn’t matter anyways. He needs to get off Coruscant and fast before the Empire – and Sidious – track him down again.

He’s not sure he’ll be able to escape successfully a second time, and right now, with how worn he is from the duel he just fought, he doubts he’d make it out.

Survive first.

Find Anakin second.

He would like to go back for Mill, but if the girl knows what’s good for her, she’ll have run too far for him to get her before the Empire catches up to him. She’s survived all this time, and while choosing to leave her behind is one of the hardest things he has ever done, he cannot go back for her and risk them both. At least here, she’s alive. If he goes back for her and the Empire catches up, if Sidious catches up, she’ll die.

That is not something Obi-Wan can live with.

I’m sorry, Mill.

***

Sidious feels his rage build as Kenobi falls out of sight. This is not how the duel was supposed to go. He didn’t expect Kenobi – the Predator – to run from him, not so easily, not with how powerful he has become. But no matter. He will pursue and destroy Kenobi once and for all.

He readies himself to leap after when his comm beeps.

It’s the emergency code, one that only a few people know and one which they would only use in the most dire of circumstances. Unease snakes up his spine. Perhaps this was an elaborate ruse of some sort, a means to distract him from something else.

Sidious answers the comm, and he nearly startles at the hologram of his current apprentice lying under the delimbed and probably unconscious form of the Ninth Sister.

“Master, the Predator is here!” Inquiere blurts out in a rush. He sounds terrified. He feels terrified. “He broke into the command center.”

Sidious curses internally. “Is he still there?” he demands sharply.

“He’s– no–” Inquiere heaves off the body of the Ninth Sister, looking at something out of range. Sidious really, really should have chosen a stronger, better apprentice. He scowls impatiently, waiting, and he doesn’t think he imagines the startled, fearful intake of breath. “He knows you’re–!” The words are cut off abruptly, the connection fizzling out.

A chill creeps down Sidious’ spine as he realizes what that could mean. The Predator may have finished off the rest of the Inquisitors. In their own base. Rage crawls to choke him, and he pushes it back with an effort. He needs to go back and assess the damage. Perhaps he was wrong about Kenobi. He and the Predator could still be in league, but he finds it unlikely that they can be the same person, not unless there is an ability to split oneself into two different places – which there isn’t.

… He doesn’t think.

The Force shifts, ripples, screams, and Sidious stiffens, looking around with the Force not his eyes. He can sense something changing, and before his eyes, the air in front of him tears. A crackling ring of purple electricity forms, growing bigger and bigger as a dark-robed figure steps through.

The Predator.

For a heartbeat, Sidious is frozen, not from fear of this Jedi, but from fear of what this could mean.

She is coming.

The Jedi are more foolish than he thought.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, not when the Predator’s blue lightsaber ignites as he closes in on him. Sidious has felt fear many times in his life, but what he feels now is white-hot rage. “You are more foolish than I thought,” he snarls, igniting his blood-red blades and swinging them to intercept the Predator’s attack. “I was right to destroy you and your kind if this is what you mean to unleash upon the galaxy.”

The Predator’s presence feels familiar to him somehow, though he is unable to place it. It is… elusive, and as he takes in the Mask, he knows why. He is hiding himself, concealing himself in the shadows and Darkness the way only the Sith have done. This… Jedi has done what he thought no Jedi would ever do. Some powers are not ones even the Sith should dabble with, and now that it’s begun, now that this final line has been crossed, She will come again.

And when She does, Sidious will only have himself to rely on. If the Jedi are willing to dabble with powers they should not touch, then there is no reason he cannot do likewise. He will need all the power he can get with Skywalker still out there, far from his reach. This – the Predator who is coming at him now, a whirlwind of blue fury, cannot possibly be Skywalker, no matter how similar the fighting style he is using is. Skywalker was a Chosen of the Force, not of… Her. He was not chosen to rip their reality apart, of that Sidious is certain.

He doesn’t have Skywalker, so he will have to make do alone. Without him.

The Predator is strong, and perhaps Sidious could defeat him, but he cannot take the risk, not now. He needs to retreat, regroup, and prepare for the worst. He draws on the Force, flipping away from the Predator’s merciless, brutal attack and hurling his opponent away. Sidious does not give him time to recover, unleashing lightning on him, powering it with everything he has, everything he feels.

The Force flickers around the Predator as he throws up his hands at the last second, catching the electricity in much the same way that Kenobi did, but his method is… different. Stronger. Sidious pushes harder, and the power builds before exploding. He’s slammed against the wall of a nearby building, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. It takes him a moment to recover, a moment too long, and the Predator is on him before he can get back up.

Sidious tries to Force-choke him, and nearly succeeds, only for the attempt to be shoved away ruthlessly. So, he draws his lightsabers again, leaping at the Predator to take him off-guard. He survived Kenobi, and he survived Skywalker. He will survive this Jedi, too.

Their fight is wild and violent, far more so than the duel he had with Kenobi was. Then, they were evenly matched, but now… there are moments when Sidious feels as though he is truly fighting for his life. The Predator will not stop at anything. There are no lengths he will not go to, and that… is startling, because it is not something Sidious has ever seen in the Jedi. The Jedi will stop at a certain point.

But the Predator? He isn’t stopping.

Sidious manages to throw him over the edge of the walkway, before he turns and bolts, making his way back toward the Imperial forces and safety. This isn’t over, but this is not a fight he can afford to engage in right now.

He feels the Force ripple again, the disturbance growing near him, and another rift begins to form. He responds instinctively, hurling his own lightning at it, pouring himself into it. The edges waver, flicker, and finally, the rift closes. He has to pause to catch his breath and regather his strength. It’s only a moment, but it’s all the time the Predator needs.

Another rift forms – he can feel it though he can’t see it. He’s hit with the Force and thrown into a light post, and as he moves to get back up, he can see the shadowy figure of the Predator approaching. Sidious stands, letting lightning arc from his fingertips toward his opponent. And like what happened with Kenobi, the Predator blocks the attack with his own hands. The energy crackles against his palms, and Sidious can feel that something about it is… amiss. It grates against his senses in a way he has only felt once, and that realization sends a chill down his spine. He knows this power. He has felt it, and it doesn’t mean anything good.

Perhaps the Predator has dabbled more than Sidious thought.

The electric storm is hurled back at him, and Sidious rolls to a crouch to avoid it – most of it, at any rate. Some of it sparks against his robes, and they catch fire, the flames glowing purple as they burn through the fabric.

The Predator’s power is indeed far greater than Sidious anticipated, and he tosses off his burning robe, drawing the Force in on himself and disappearing. He was good at hiding his sensitivity – he had to be as the Chancellor – and he knows the shielding will work just as well on this Jedi as it did on the ones in the past. He flips onto a lower walkway, creeping through the shadows. He can feel the stormy rage of the Predator, but he doesn’t react to it.

Sidious doesn’t relax until he’s back on the surface of Coruscant, securely in the Imperial palace. He waits there for the full report of the damage caused to the headquarters of the Inquisitorious, and while he waits, he plans.

It’s time to make things serious.

***

Fourteen years earlier

He is facing the storm alone, just as he faced the storm alone when it was unleashed by Venamis. But this storm – this storm surpasses anything Sidious has ever before seen. The wind is howling, nearly blowing him over, and he has to lift his arm to shield his face from it. His master is unconscious on the ground a hundred yards away. He was thrown when the rift cracked open.

It’s only him now. Him and the young Togruta child at his side. She’s powerful but untrained. She won’t be much help to him.

Already he can feel the creeping sensation as foreign energy pushes its way free, eroding the grassy, rocky ground of Brandok wherever it touches.

Sidious draws in the Dark, and for a moment, he can see it. He can see what She will cause when She emerges, and he cannot let that happen. There will be no galaxy for the Sith to rule should She destroy it.

It’s just him and Her, and he has no option but to prevail.

“I don’t like her,” the child states emphatically. Sidious doesn’t even look at her. She means nothing. She is his master’s lab rat. An experiment. Her strength… could be an asset, but those are thoughts for the future. He can almost see the scowl on the girl’s face. “She’s creepy.”

Sidious seconds it, but he doesn’t take his focus off the rift. He can already see the first creeping tendrils of Chaos invading. He gathers the Force, hurling it against the invader. “Focus,” he grits out. He doesn’t know that the girl can help, but perhaps…

It can’t hurt, at any rate.

His arms are trembling from the strength She exudes as She pushes back against him, but he does not stop. He cannot stop.

A soft snarl from next to him as the girl bares her fangs. She could be a terrifying Sith if only he could turn her. “I don’t like you!” she yells at the creature. “Go away!”

How is she not more terrified than she is?

But he can feel her clumsily reaching into the Force, her too-Light presence brushing up against his as she adds her strength to his. The creature roars, and the wind howls with her, lightning crackling across the sky, hitting the ground only feet away.

Sidious pushes harder, and his whole body is shaking from the force he’s using. Nothing matters but shutting the rift and keeping Her out. She will destroy everything.

Everything.

He feels the shift in the Force, feels the shadowy, clawed fingers settling on his shoulder, and he nearly falls to his knees from the force of the Dark that washes through him. It’s like touching a live wire, and he doesn’t know if he will even be able to survive the power that is now pouring into him. It’s too much, overwhelming, but he uses it, draws on it, lets it fuel him.

Next to him, something Light materializes, and he glances at the child for a moment to see her almost glowing. The white and green convor on her shoulder is so Light that it hurts, but it powers her, too, and slowly, inch by inch, the purple rift closes.

“No!” She screams, a wild, furious cry, and a tentacle lashes out.

Sidious evades it, flicks it aside with the Force, but it catches the girl. She screams and struggles as she’s dragged toward the rift. Her wide, terrified, blue eyes meet his, and Sidious is faced with the choice of trying to free her from the monster or closing Her out forever – and the child with her.

He will have no galaxy to rule if it has all been consumed by Her.

Sidious shoves harder, and the creature screams again, trying to get through, but the power of the Dark is a living thing inside of him, and She is not in this galaxy enough to push back.

The rift slams closed, and the storm dies down, fading away as through it was never there.

Sidious crumbles to his knees from the backlash and exhaustion, the Dark presence that had been fueling him suddenly departing. The child is… gone. He does not regret the choice, but he feels, for a moment, something like pity for her. He does not know what She will do to her. The child does not deserve that fate, but it was her or the galaxy, and of course, there was only one choice Sidious could make.

He hears movement and turns his head to see his master standing there. Plagueis’ face is contemplative. Intrigued. “Fascinating,” he whispers, and Sidious feels a jolt of dread.

Was this not proof enough that She cannot be weaponized???

He has one option left.

It is time for Darth Plagueis to die.

Tonight.

Hours later, when he gets back to Coruscant, he senses his chosen apprentice for the first time.

Chapter Text

Rampart regains consciousness slowly, the words of his captor ringing through his mind. He’s not stupid. He wasn’t planning to resist anyway, not much. He might not know who these people are or what they want with him, but the power of the man who captured him is not to be trifled with.

And besides, the Empire owes him.

He gave everything and followed his orders only to be cast aside as though he meant nothing. He should be Vice Admiral still. He deserves to be. He deserves so much more than that.

If he can’t get what he’s owed from the Empire, he’ll make them hurt for betraying him like this.

He didn’t need the extra incentive offered to him by his captor to make him talk. Rampart has a strong sense of self-preservation, and he has no intention of dying to keep the Empire’s secrets.

When he wakes up, he’s in a different place. He’s cuffed, secured well enough that he has no chance of getting away. The stranger who took him is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he’s being faced down by clones.

… Familiar clones.

He’d recognize the ARC trooper anywhere, mainly because he was a member of Clone Force 99, and Captain Rex was famous enough for him to be on Rampart’s radar. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “What do you want?” he asks coolly.

The two clones shift, and the way Rex straightens is meant to be intimidating. Annoying enough, it works.

… A little bit.

“Tell me everything,” Rex answers. “I want every single piece of intel you have on the Empire, especially with respect to the shadow clone assassins.”

Oh.

Those.

Hemlock’s pet project and one which Tarkin fancied, too.

Well, he’d be happy to tell these clones everything they want to know.

“In exchange for my freedom,” Rampart replies, “I’ll tell you anything.”

The Emperor and Tarkin should have thought twice before discarding him. They forgot how much he knows about them and their plans.

***

Windu delays a few weeks before he goes back to see the clones again and until the Force nudges him that the time has come. He waits for them to extract the intel from Rampart and undoubtedly formulate a plan of attack. While he intends to aid them if he can – if only to further gain their trust – he also wants to allow them to decide what they wish to do on their own. His plans are bigger than theirs. They plan to rescue their own, but Windu intends to build a movement to take down the Empire.

The garage is a buzz of activity the next time Windu stops by. He observes silently from the shadows as Captain Rex and his ARC trooper study something together. They’re going over some sort of plan, and Rampart is there, adding his own input. Windu studies the Imperial for a moment, but no, Rampart is too angry to be a double agent, and Windu has no doubt that the clones have already considered the possibility and taken measures to prevent it.

He’s not wearing his helmet this time, either, and like before, it takes the clones almost no time to notice him when he steps forward.

Rex seems relieved to see him. “General,” he says, “I wasn’t sure if we’d see you again.”

“I told you I would be in touch,” Windu reminds him.

Rex gives him a look. “The Empire hunts Jedi even more than it does clones, sir.”

Yes, as though he needed the reminder, but Rex doesn’t know who he is. The clone doesn’t know that he is the infamous Predator that even criminal networks whisper about on the planet. Windu has no doubt that Rex has heard the talk, but he does not blame him for not connecting the dots. It’s not as though he wants it to be easy for someone to uncover his identity.

“I have been safe,” he allows. “What is the status? I am sure Rampart has given you much useful information.”

Rex is quick to fill him in, explaining about a base called Tantiss where the Empire is doing a number of high-level experiments that even Rampart does not know about. All he’s able to confirm is that they are of personal importance to the Emperor – and therefore to Windu. Tantiss is also the place where clones are being taken, both for experimentation and to be remodeled into assassins.

“The clones are waking up,” Rex tells him, his dark eyes grim. “More and more are now turning on the Empire. That’s why they’re being phased out.”

Windu considers that for a moment. It’s too little too late in his opinion, but this is something that he can use to his advantage if nothing else. The clones were good soldiers. They would be a formidable force if he had a way of turning them against the Empire. “Tell me what you know about Tantiss.”

“The coordinates are not known,” Rex answers, “but if we can steal aboard a shuttle leaving one of the orbital stations over Coruscant, we will find it.”

“That would be risky,” Windu points out. “Your ability to bring a sizable attack force would be limited.”

“We’re ready,” Rex replies steadily. “We can’t wait anymore. I’m calling in everyone I know who can aid us.” He meets Windu’s gaze. “Will you help us, General?”

“I will,” Windu says, “and I have resources of my own which will contribute to your cause.”

He thinks about the backdoor access he has to Sidious’ office. He might not be able to pull the coordinates from there, but he can get them a large ship without too much attention being drawn. And he can call on Gerrera. He has no doubt that Saw is itching to take his rebels and hit a sizable target. If this… Tantiss is important to the Emperor, Windu expects it will be a crippling blow to the Empire.

“Incoming,” the ARC calls, and Rex turns toward the door, a breath of relief escaping him. “Some of our reinforcements are coming now. You’ll want to be here for this.”

Windu follows him curiously, watching as an unremarkable shuttle lowers onto the platform. He doesn’t see anything special about it, and a tentative probe with the Force reveals two Force presences inside. He’s not sure if he can believe what he’s feeling until the ramp lowers. A too-familiar teenage Togruta descends first followed by an equally familiar Kel Dor.

Ahsoka Tano.

She survived.

And –

“Plo,” Windu says.

The Kel Dor’s gaze snaps to him, and his eyes widen, his shock and relief flaring into the Force. “Mace, you’re still alive.”

Windu approaches him. “I have not found any other survivors.” He has the list which he obtained from the Fallen Jedi’s headquarters – it’s sizable – but he hasn’t known where to begin searching.

“I’ve been looking, too,” Ahsoka says. “I found Master Plo three weeks ago. We’ve got a few leads but nothing else. Do you– do you know what happened to Anakin?”

The fear in her blue eyes is unmistakable, and Windu is abruptly struck by how much this child has changed. He remembers her when she was a small, skinny, bright-eyed thing, running along at her master’s elbow. Her face is harder now. Older. Her eyes are shadowed by grief and exhaustion but that same stubborn determination which she had when a padawan is still there. All of them have their scars.

Windu considers his options. He could tell her the truth, or… he could let it rest. Plo would understand the need to stop Skywalker before he goes further, but Windu knows that Ahsoka is too attached, much like her master. “I have not seen him,” he answers.

It’s not a lie.

Her face falls for a moment before she lifts her chin. “Then we’ll keep searching. If anyone could have survived, Anakin would have.”

It’s relieving to be with another Jedi, and Windu finds a moment to talk to Plo privately. He tells him how he fought Sidious and nearly died at his hands. Plo – and Ahsoka – undoubtedly noticed the mechno-hand and the kyber shard in his eye, but neither of them commented. Plo, in turn, relates the story of his survival. He sensed his men’s intent, and he managed to eject himself from his fighter milliseconds before it exploded. They didn’t realize he survived, but he still laid low to avoid drawing attention and eventually smuggled himself off the planet. He wandered for a while until he ran into Ahsoka.

Of all the people Windu thought he might find, a fellow Council member was not one of them. Having Plo at his side feels right, and Windu knows the feeling is too close to attachment, but he – he’s been alone for so long. Having another Jedi around makes him feel completed. He didn’t realize how empty he felt until now that Plo’s here. It’s soothing to sense the bright presences on the edge of his mind. Non-Force sensitives don’t give the same comfort. They’re not bright enough.

But Windu knows better than to allow these feelings to distract him. He contacts Saw to set up the joint operation. This is familiar, too. Though Windu had not wanted the Jedi to participate in the war, he was forced to adapt like everyone else. He learned how to fight, how to lead, and those are the lessons that he now employs as he works with Plo, Ahsoka, and the other clones as they piece together a plan. Ahsoka’s astromech, R7, taps into the backdoor access that Windu has and slices a special code into the Imperial network to ensure that they have permanent access. So long as the Empire doesn’t realize they have a leak, no number of code changes will prevent Windu from tapping in.

He could even take entire Star Destroyers now if he wanted to.

It might draw too much attention, especially this early on, but it’s a possibility for the future.

The Bad Batch come back, too, which Windu had expected, and it turns out that their sniper is being held prisoner at Tantiss. This mission is personal for them. It’s personal for all the clones. That’s good. It means they’re committed and won’t back down or have second thoughts. Once, Windu would never have worried about that, but now, after the way the clones turned on the Jedi, he no longer trusts them.

Windu uses his backdoor access to the Imperial network to locate a transport that will be heading to Tantiss. They go to intercept it before it can leave it’s starting point and head to Coruscant. Gerrera and his partisans take over the ship, posing as stormtroopers along with some of Captain Rex’s clones. The rest will go in as prisoners. They don’t know what they’ll be walking into or what the facility is like, but Windu expects it to be massive. That means it’s important to spread out as quickly as possible so they can infiltrate as much of the facility as they can before the Empire realizes what’s happened.

With him, Plo, and Ahsoka as backup, the clones and partisans have a good chance at succeeding.

May the Force be with them all.

***

The Empire has stood for months, and Padme is beginning to feel the strain of it. She has worked tirelessly with the allies she knows she can trust to build something of a resistance. In the Senate, she has fought, standing strong for democracy and for the people who still need her. She fights for freedom, and she has worked closely with Riyo Chuchi to fight for the clones. The clones have no voice at all, and though she does not understand what has happened, or why they chose to side with the Empire after everything that happened, they still need her.

Padme has never been in favor of the clone armies. They were bred and born, raised and trained for warfare. She hates it. She hates what the clones stand for, most of all. They are a symbol of the way the Republic has fallen. Purchasing armies??? Is this what the Republic was meant to be?

No.

And again no.

Padme spoke out, but no one listened, and here they are today. Maybe no one will ever listen. It is easy to become discouraged, and when she does, she stops early and calls her mother so she can see her children. She looks at them, still so very young and robbed of the parents they should have had, and she feels herself filled with the same righteous rage that has driven her ever since Palpatine declared himself Emperor.

Her twins don’t deserve to grow up in a galaxy like this. They don’t deserve to never know freedom or justice. She will fight because she must fight and because no one else will fight for her if she doesn’t step up first. Riyo shares her rage. She feels it with every fiber of her being as the clones were tossed aside despite her best efforts. Bail and Mon feel the same rage when their every attempt to redirect wartime funding to the millions of refugees and to rebuild the hundreds of destroyed planets is crushed.

The four of them are becoming… something. They started out as colleagues, and then they became friends. Padme doesn’t know what they are now, but she is just as ready and willing to let Riyo braid her hair while they watch a stupid holodrama to unwind from a difficult Senate session as she is to let Sabe do the same. She thinks – she thinks they might be something like a family now. They’re bound together in a struggle they all share, forever tied by the knowledge that no one will listen to them. No one cares.

Palpatine says to jump, and the Senators ask him how high. They never stop to ask why. They never question why one man should have so much power. They never wonder if this is really what it means to be free, to have justice.

When Riyo asks her – sounding distressed – if she wouldn’t mind meeting her in the Underworld, Padme goes without asking questions. And when she gets to the random intersection, Riyo picks her up in an unmarked speeder and takes her further down, to a garage. The place is deserted, but Riyo still seems to know it well, if the way she paces across the floor means anything.

And it’s there that Padme learns the truth.

She learns that Riyo has been in contact with Rex – Rex, Anakin’s Rex, and is he alive too, where is he? Is he still on Tatooine? – and she has helped him where she can with the clone network he is building. They’re not rebels, not quite, because their focus is to help the other clones, but Riyo admits that she expects a rebellion will be the next step. She tells Padme about Master Windu – Windu, thank the Light that there are still more Jedi out there – and about how Master Plo and Ahsoka showed up, and how they went to destroy an Imperial facility that is holding clone prisoners.

Padme waits with her for them to return, and eventually, their restlessness is great enough that she sits Riyo down and begins to braid her hair in an elaborate braid just to keep them both busy. This, Padme thinks, is what it means to be a rebel.

It feels like she ages in a year in the time it takes for the ship to return, and when Padme sees Ahsoka, older than she was the last time they met, there is no force in the galaxy that can stop her from going to the young Togruta and wrapping her in her arms. “Ahsoka,” she breathes, squeezing, and Ahsoka makes a strangled sound, hugging her back.

“Senator,” she answers, “I’m so glad to see you.” She steps back, and Padme can see the tiredness and ash on her face, but she looks happy. Hopeful.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Master Windu adds.

It is there, in a random garage in the Coruscant Underworld that the Rebel Alliance is forged. It’s an oath between the Senators who still believe in democracy, the clones, the surviving Jedi, and Saw Gerrera’s partisans, a promise to fight to the death and beyond to bring down Palpatine and restore peace.

It will be a hard fight, Padme knows, but it will be worth it. All of this will be worth it eventually.

And when it’s all over, Palpatine will be dead, and they’ll be free. She will be free to have the family she has always wanted. She’ll be free to live with Anakin and the twins, and they’ll be happy.

Please. Please let it be so.

***

The columns of smoke rising from Tantiss are enough of an indication that something is very wrong. The lack of a response from the base is even more proof. Hemlock watches through the viewport as the shuttle lands in the hangar bay. The troopers who accompanied him surround him, and the commando moves out first, weapon held at the ready.

He needn’t have bothered. Whoever came here and destroyed Tantiss is already gone. Hemlock can see the dying embers of the fires that must have one raged. The fight is over… and the Emperor will be most displeased.

“Spread out,” he orders. “Search for survivors and report back with what you find.”

One of the troopers remains with him just in case and the rest go to find out what has happened. There are very few survivors, and all are injured in one way or another. Their stories vary, but Hemlock is still able to piece together what transpired. It was a group of rebels – primarily composed of clones – who came here and decimated the facility along with a few rogue Jedi. They took all the prisoners and destroyed all the research.

Even Emerie left him.

His fury simmers as he walks through the halls of the demolished structure, stepping over and around debris as he goes to the section where the Clone X program was run. Though he has no more Clone Xs, he has one more prize which he hopes the rebels were unable to find.

And sure enough, CC-2224 is still in the stasis tank. It’s not obvious what it is, and the personnel who oversaw the program would never have cooperated with the rebels. He is fortunate that he did not put Emerie in charge of this operation. This research is still complete. The databases were kept separate from those in the main laboratory.

All is not lost.

He can put his focus onto making this final clone into the most dangerous Clone X to exist, and he can hunt down and destroy the rebels who did this. The Emperor will be pleased.

Chapter Text

Kix stays. At first, Anakin hadn’t been certain that he would, but the clone eventually settled down on Tatooine. Though he’d wanted to track down his brothers, the 501st was impossible to locate. The most they were able to ascertain was that they’d returned from Mandalore. Either they were retired along with the rest of the clone armies – something that Anakin is still trying to process; the clones are gone now – or they’d defected or escaped. Knowing that his boys were safely out there somewhere is the only reason he didn’t go personally with Kix to track them down.

He knows Rex, and he trusts that Rex will keep them safe, even if he has to do it alone. Without him.

He misses Rex. He misses his boys. He misses Ahsoka. He thinks about them constantly, and a part of him yearns for the war, for the times when he had them and could be assured of their safety.

He misses Obi-Wan, too, and sometimes, he wonders what happened to him. He wonders where he is – if he’s out there fighting the Empire or if he’s still in hiding. A part of Anakin is afraid it’s the former. He’s terrified of it. Obi-Wan has a track record of not knowing how to handle himself alone. The number of times Anakin has had to save his life is too high for Anakin to be comfortable at the possibility of Obi-Wan fighting on his own.

But the one thing Anakin was forced to learn during the war was to trust others to handle themselves. So many times, he had to send his boys and Ahsoka into battle, hoping and praying to the Force that they would make it out, knowing that some of them would not, and trusting them to do their best and accomplish the mission he gave them. He has never been able to do the same with Obi-Wan, not quite, but he is trying now because he has nothing else. He cannot worry about Obi-Wan when he has to focus on the people who need him now.

And of course, there is Padme. Padme, and the child Anakin has never met. It troubles him sometimes, keeping him up into the night as he thinks about all the things he has missed. Their child is no longer a baby. She – or he? – has already started talking, started walking…

He tries to be content with what he has on Tatooine, tries to focus on the people here who need him. Ruling a planet is not easy, and he doesn’t know how Padme ever managed, but he thinks she would be proud of what he’s accomplished. Tatooine has become far more stable than it used to be. The slaves have been freed, and Anakin is working to give it a self-sustaining economy. Things haven’t always been easy, but they make do.

It’s been… so long since the Clone Wars. So long since the Republic.

The Empire formed one and a half years ago.

Sometimes, Anakin can’t believe it’s been that long. It feels like yesterday that he was with Rex, with Ahsoka even, fighting on the frontlines together.

Those feelings only grow when he watches Reva practice her forms. The girl has grown so much since she came with him to Tatooine. She’s gone from a traumatized, scared child to one who is far more confident, self-assured, and determined. In the Temple, she had her first taste of war, and her experience has only grown since then. Reva is not a soldier the way Ahsoka was, but Anakin is still training her to be able to handle herself. Tatooine is no place for any child to be untrained and defenseless, even the Tatooine he is now building.

“Good,” Anakin says, nodding as he circles Reva. He reaches out, hands light as he nudges her posture into one that’s slightly better. “You don’t want to be too tense,” he adds, touching her shoulders. “Trust in the Force to flow through you. Trust it to guide you.” He steps back. “Alright. Again.”

He watches his daughter work through her katas, lightsaber tight in her hands. It’s technically not hers – she has not been afforded the chance to build her own yet – but it’s a lightsaber, and she deserves to know how to fight with one, no matter how dangerous such knowledge could be. Should the Empire learn of her, they will come for her. And yet, Anakin trusts his ability to keep her safe while preparing her for the fight that he knows is inevitable. He will not let Sidious keep the galaxy as his playpen.

He cannot afford to.

Aayla enters the room where they’re working, and he doesn’t even need to look at her to know that she’s stressed about something. He could feel it before she arrived. Anakin holds up his hand to stop her from interrupting while Reva finishes.

“How’d I do?” she asks hopefully, extinguishing the blade and wiping the sweat from her forehead. “I’m getting better, aren’t I, dad?” She turns to Aayla without waiting for an answer. “Mom, did you see?!”

Mom. It’s a new term, one Reva has only started using recently. Anakin asked Aayla privately if she was really okay with it. She’d shrugged, looking away, her lekku twitching a bit. I never thought I’d have a padawan, she’d answered, and he could feel her grief. Her pain. If Reva wants me to be her mother instead of her teacher, I can try. And they left it at that. They’re committed to giving Reva the best childhood they can.

“Yes, I saw,” Aayla answers. Her smile is strained around the edges. “I need to talk to your dad, okay?”

“Yep, got it,” Reva chirps.

“You did good, kid,” Anakin calls after her as she heads toward the door.

She grins back at him. “Going to stay with Beru. I know the drill.”

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asks almost before the door has closed.

“Cobb Vanth just contacted us from Freetown,” Aayla replies. She withdraws a holorecorder and flips it on.

“The Pykes have come to town,” Vanth says. He sounds stressed. He looks… He almost looks scared. “They wouldn’t take no for an answer. They have strange weapons, and one is armed with the same type of sword that the Shadow used. Starkiller, we need your help.”

Anakin startles. “The– the Shadow? The Pykes have a lightsaber wielder?”

Aayla presses her lips together. “Yes, I confirmed it with him before the connection was severed. Anakin… what do you want to do?”

He takes a deep breath. In truth, he had expected this. Ever since Tatooine had freed itself from Hutt rule, Anakin had known that the time would come when they would have to fight to defend their planet. He has seen the way other criminal groups have been circling, sniffing out their weaknesses. Tatooine is a very small fish in an ocean of sharks. Jacen Starkiller is known as a strong and just leader, but when it comes to the power and numbers of the Pyke Syndicate, he may not be strong enough.

Without him, the Trail would be helpless. They might have no choice but to cut their losses and make a deal with the Pykes so long as they did not implement slavery once again. Someone else might back out entirely and run.

Anakin is not those people. He has the Force, and he will trust in it to guide and protect them.

“We have to help them,” he answers. “What good are we to these people if we cannot protect them from those who desire to exploit them?”

Aayla nods. She’d expected his response. “No lightsabers,” she states more than asks.

Anakin hums in agreement. “We’ll make a stand on our own. No lightsabers, no Shadow, no Force. Just us.”

“Got it.” Aayla spins toward the door. “I already told Kitster we’d probably be going out, and Owen got the ship ready.”

Without Aayla as his second, Anakin doesn’t know how he would have survived the past year of leadership. She’s his closest friend. Without Owen and Beru splitting their time between the palace and their homestead, Anakin wouldn’t be able to take care of Reva properly. Without Kitster and Kix, he wouldn’t have anyone to hold the palace when they’re away. They’re his friends, his family.

They’re ruling Tatooine because there is no one else who will if they don’t. They know his secret. They know he’s the Shadow, and they help him keep his identities hidden. Without them, the Empire might have realized he’s a Jedi by now, and Tatooine would no longer be safe or free.

They fly out together, Anakin pushing the engines to their limits as they fly low across the sand. The ship is fast, but it doesn’t feel fast enough, not when he knows that the people there are undoubtedly suffering.

“Get the guns,” he orders, and Aayla reaches for the controls when they see the shadow of Freetown in the distance. It can’t have been more than six hours since they got the call, but already, he can see the smoke rising. The Force is heavy with pain. Death. The battle is already over, or mostly, and the Pykes have declared themselves victors.

Mm.

Not for long.

Not if he has anything to say about it.

“Fire.”

Aayla pulls the trigger, aiming for the closest speeder with the Pyke insignia emblazoned across it. It explodes, and Anakin can feel the shock and surprise flare into the Force.

“Draw their attention. I’ll circle us around and land,” he tells her. Aayla keeps firing as they fly, carefully aiming at the Pyke targets while leaving the nearby civilians unscathed and scrambling for cover. He can sense the blaster fire hitting the ship. The shields are taking a beating, and he frowns at the readout. Something isn’t right. His senses are tingling, and he jerks the ship aside as an explosion rocks hit.

Cannon?

No, that doesn’t seem right, and yet…

“Be on guard,” he warns as he flies to the outskirts of the town and lands in the sand. “This might be a trap.”

“They want to lure us out,” Aayla agrees, “but they have no idea what to expect.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Anakin murmurs, but still, he feels uneasy.

Something isn’t right. The Force is too tense for this to be an attempted incursion. It somehow feels like more, like he’s overlooking something, like there are other forces at play than he can see right now.

They disembark from the ship, and Anakin keeps his hands tight on his blasters as he steps onto the sand. Aayla is at his back, but he’s aware of how exposed they are. If there’s a sniper out there, they could try to pick him – or Aayla – off, which could lead to their abilities being exposed, and that is not something they can afford.

He can see the Pykes in the distance, spread out and closing in on them.

“You don’t belong here!” he yells at them when they get within earshot. “This planet is under my jurisdiction. You have no right to be trespassing on my territory and hurting my people.”

The air is tense the way it always is before a battle breaks out, and Anakin braces himself for the worst. An attack could come from anywhere, even behind if someone managed to sneak between them and their ship – unlikely, but possible. “You go right, and I’ll go left,” Aayla whispers to him. “We’ll pick ‘em off.”

She’s become so good at killing.

This is hardly the first time she’s killed with him. For him. Being his right hand means that she has to do things that are… less than savory at times. They are Jedi – or they were. It’s that was that keeps Aayla from becoming his assassin. It’s a truth they are both uncomfortable with, and one they choose not to acknowledge. These are difficult times, and they will do what they must in order to survive.

“Is that so,” the Pyke in front intones. “You’ve attacked our forces, killed our men. That means war, Starkiller.”

“If you leave peacefully, I will give you your lives,” Anakin replies. His grip tightens on the triggers. They have only seconds before someone starts shooting.

Or not, he realizes, when there’s a too-familiar snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber. It’s in one of Pykes’ hands, green in color. The hilt is shaped differently, though, and the blade is somehow… wider and flatter than Anakin had anticipated. It’s more sword than saber, almost like the Darksaber. They’ve been experimenting with kyber, making weapons from the crystals looted from the dead Jedi.

Rage washes through him, and he can feel the answering anger in Aayla as it sinks in.

“Tell me to shoot,” she breathes, “and I’ll kill them.”

Anakin takes a deep breath and reaches for the Force. “Kill them,” he says, and they lift their weapons in sync, firing in opposite directions. Anakin takes down the Pykes in rapid succession, the ones with mere blasters falling easily, almost before they can return fire. The one with a lightsaber lasts longer, and Anakin wonders if he’s a cyborg. A computerized brain could keep up with the shots and deflect them away.

Like Grievous.

Danger screams through the Force, and Anakin throws himself aside as an explosion tears through the ground. Sniper but the weapon has the force of a cannon. It doesn’t feel normal.

“He said they had strange weapons,” Aayla reminds him as they scramble for cover.

Their cover comes in the form of crates and vaporators which is not ideal but it’s their only option. Though it’ll do little to protect them, it will have to be enough. Yes, Cobb had warned them, and Anakin can see it now, in the remaining Pykes who approach from the back. Their blasters are sleeker, the firepower greater. They don’t resemble any blaster Anakin has ever before seen. Of course, they are only blasters and therefore cannot protect their user like a lightsaber could, but it still unsettles him.

It unsettles him even more when a stray shot hits the vaporator and obliterates almost the whole structure. Whatever fuel source they’re using, it’s – it’s strong. Another shot comes from above, exploding even more violently. It’s enough to throw them back, but they were trained as Jedi, so they’re quick to recover themselves, firing at the last few Pykes who are still shooting.

The rest of them raise their hands in surrender. It feels… staged somehow, but Anakin won’t gun down someone who isn’t fighting him. If he leaves them alive, he can send them back with a message. He and Aayla approach them warily, but the Pykes make no move to attack.

“Leave your weapons and go,” Anakin orders, voice cold. “Tell your master that you are not welcome on Tatooine, and do not return.”

The Pykes obey, taking their last remaining speeder as they leave.

Next to him, Aayla twitches. “This isn’t over,” she says, realizing the same thing that Anakin is now sensing. The Force is tense, warning them of approaching enemies.

He hears the thump of someone hitting the sand at the same time as he feels the intent. Anakin spins to face the masked individual, taking in the black and red garb as he identifies him as a member of the Order of the Night Wind. They’re highly trained assassins who only work in Hutt Space. Something… does not feel right.

The man is joined by five others, standing in a loose circle around Anakin and Aayla. They activate their energy shields, and the weapons they’re wielding look… as odd as what the Pykes had. There’s a snap-hiss as they activate; they look like lightsabers, but they’re not just lightsabers, and with a sudden flare of horror, Anakin realizes that the Pykes’ blasters were using kyber. That’s why they were so strong. That’s why they feel so bright.

Their attackers close in, and for the first time, Anakin wishes he’d brought his lightsaber with him. Sure, he might have outed himself, but he’d have a much better chance of defeating them with a lightsaber. His first instinct was right. This is a trap.

“We fight,” Aayla says, voice filled with fierce determination, bolstering him when he falters. “We’re not going to let them win.”

She’s right. They won’t. They can’t.

Anakin thinks of their daughter. He thinks of Reva who is undoubtedly waiting for them to return, and he knows that they cannot die here. They have to go back to her. She needs them.

Aayla grabs for one of the Pykes’ unusual blasters on the ground, tossing it to Anakin as she grabs a second. They fire at the assassins, but the blast is blocked by the energy shield, and the subsequent explosion nearly knocks the assassin off his feet – and Anakin and Aayla with him. This is not a good situation, though Anakin has faced worse during the war. The only difference is that now, he needs to focus on not using the Force like he would have in the past. If he gives away his Force-sensitivity, the risk is too high that the Empire will come for him.

And he cannot take that chance.

An idea occurs to him, one that’s dangerous and risky, but it’s better than nothing. “We’ll shoot at one of them,” he murmurs, “and then try to get past their circle. If we can get their weapons, we can use them.”

Aayla doesn’t hesitate. They fire in sync, and Anakin is pleased to see that the impact sends the assassin reeling. Aayla skids past, ducking around as she engages him in hand-to-hand combat. He tries to use his lightsaber and shield to keep her at bay, but she’s good, and he doesn’t stand a chance against her.

Anakin isn’t quite so fortunate.

Facing off against five opponents with nothing to aid him, all he can do is fire futilely at them, hoping that the smoke will be enough to disorient them a little. The Force guides him when they attack, and he uses that foreknowledge to stay a step ahead of their blades. But at the end, he is only one person against five. He feels the sharp burn as the first blade makes contact, burning through his armor and singing skin. He kicks the man’s wrist, rolling aside as another blade nearly bisects him, but the strain is showing.

Then Aayla is there, her blue blade flashing as she engages another assassin. It gives Anakin the leeway he needs to duck out of their circle, leading them across the sand as he fights them off the way the Twi’lek did. It’s easy for him to swipe one of their weapons, stabbing it through the heart of the second assassin as Aayla finishes off a third.

The three survivors pause and reassess before two of them charge forward. They’re skilled, no doubt about it, but a lightsaber is not a normal weapon, and Anakin and Aayla have trained in lightsaber combat for far longer than these men. He loses sight, momentarily, of the sixth attacker.

It proves to be a mistake.

The Force screams, and Anakin turns in time to see that the sixth man has shifted the configuration of his lightsaber, using some mechanism to make it more blaster-like. And then he fires. Anakin tries to block the shot on instinct, but it’s – it’s not a blaster bolt. It’s more, and it detonates like an energy grenade. The force of it hurls him backward, slamming him into the wall hard enough to rip open the burn on his back and probably break a couple of ribs. Pain flares in his chest, and he gasps for breath, trying to blink away the blurriness from the hit to his head and the brightness of the explosion.

A life goes out. Anakin can feel the death in the Force, and he struggles to push himself upright. He can hardly see straight, his vision blurring, and he thinks he can see three Aaylas which can’t possibly be right. He tries to grab for the weapon he dropped. He misses – he can’t locate it properly – so he instead reaches for his blasters. He lifts, aims, and at the last second, closes his eyes to let the Force guide him.

The shot strikes true, in the back of the assassin dueling Aayla. The man drops.

Anakin looks around, searching for another target, but it’s quiet. Everything is quiet. The six assassins are down. He takes a step, pain stabbing violently through him, and he can’t breathe through it. Sticky warmth is trailing down his back, and he stumbles, falling to his knees, unable to hold in a cry of pain.

He doesn’t think he blacked out, but Aayla is suddenly there at his side, crouching next to him.

“Give me a minute,” he rasps, “and I’ll be fine.”

She looks like she wants to slap him. “It’s over,” she answers. “I’m taking you back to the palace to put you in the bacta tank. A couple of hours in there will do you good.”

He frowns at her. She’s being ridiculous. It’s not that bad. He’s had worse.

“Kix won’t let you say no,” she adds almost smugly, hauling him upright and letting him lean on her. “We’re going home. We need you on your feet to deal with the fallout.”

… Yeah, okay, she has a point. He’ll deal with Kix and whoever else fussing over him so he can get back up and figure out how to handle this.

This isn’t the end.

He thinks it’s just the beginning.

Chapter Text

Aayla comms ahead to let Kix know that Anakin is injured and to wait for them. She also tells Owen, so he can keep Reva distracted while they get Anakin treated. There is no reason to terrify the girl unnecessarily. With the adrenaline of the fight wearing off, Anakin is struggling far more to move around – and even breathe properly – by the time they arrive. Kix helps Aayla get him off the ship, and they take him to the medbay so Kix can treat him.

Once Anakin is settled, Aayla returns to the shuttle to retrieve the weapons she’d picked up from the Pykes and the assassins that followed. She takes them to where Owen is working with Beru and Reva.

“I need your help analyzing these weapons,” she tells them, laying them out on the ground. “I think they’re being powered by kyber crystals.”

Reva gasps. “How? Only Jedi use kyber.”

“That’s what we need to find out,” Aayla replies grimly. “Whoever sent those people in knew what they would be facing. The alternative is that kyber weapons are becoming far more popular than we’ve realized.”

“We can’t be having those kinds of things here,” Owen states firmly.

“Or anywhere,” Aayla adds quietly. “These crystals, they were probably looted from the Jedi.”

Her words hang in the air, and she sees the worried looks that the Lars exchange. She isn’t as close with them as Anakin is, but Beru is still a good friend. Owen, too. Even if he’s a bit gruff, he always means well, and he’s fiercely protective. They couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Mom, we can’t let them use these weapons,” Reva blurts out tearfully as they disassemble the first blaster. The design is similar to a regular blaster, but it’s been modified to allow a kyber to be the source of the energy blasts. Though she had expected it, it still sends a chill down her spine. Aayla is not surprised – though she is very alarmed – to see that the rest of the weapons are the same.

How common are these things?

She thinks that the crystal shards inside the blaster were made by fracturing a normal crystal into smaller pieces. The blasts were powerful, but not as much as they could have been if it was using a whole kyber. The sniper who was shooting at them might have had a rifle with a whole crystal. They never did find the rifle. The sniper must have gotten away without anyone noticing.

“I know,” Aayla answers, trying to hide how unsettled she is. Her shields are strong, but Reva is both Force-sensitive and very intuitive… and when Aayla is worried, her Twi’lek accent tends to become stronger. “Don’t worry. Anakin will take care of it.”

Reva doesn’t seem convinced. “Is Dad okay?”

Aayla pats her arm. “He’ll be fine. He’s strong. Why don’t you lock these up somewhere secure? It’s getting late. You should get some rest. We can talk to Anakin in the morning when he’s awake.”

“Aayla is right, dear,” Beru chimes in. “Let’s go get some food in you.”

Owen stays behind, and he and Aayla are quiet until Beru and Reva are out of the room. “It’s bad, isn’t it.”

He isn’t asking, and Aayla sighs, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. Either someone knows there are Force users here, or kyber crystals are being looted for weaponry. We need to get to the bottom of this and put a stop to it, no matter what it takes. This is something that could hurt millions. There is a reason why we are so careful not to let our lightsabers fall into the wrong hands.” She falters. “We were careful about it.”

“I got faith in you,” Owen promises. “You and Anakin will figure this out.”

She didn’t know how much she needed to hear the words until they’re spoken. “Thank you,” she murmurs, scrubbing a hand over her face. Their mission is only growing, and she is not ready.

***

It’s hard to sleep in a bacta tank, and Anakin uses the time to drift into the Force. It’s close enough to true rest, a deep meditation that will hopefully provide him with some sort of enlightenment about their situation. Touching the Force like this is akin to touching a live wire. It’s hard, overwhelming. It always has been, but Anakin doesn’t let that stop him. It’s never become easier to delve into the Force, though he has grown accustomed to it. It became a necessity during the war when he had to push past his exhaustion and pain and keep moving.

Even so long after the Jedi were destroyed, the Force still feels dark to him. It is still soaked with the feeling of death. It permeates everything, never leaving. Or perhaps, that is just what Tatooine feels like to him.

He reaches farther, catching glimpses of something bright and blue, perhaps a lightsaber. It blazes in front of him almost ominously. The color shifts, taking on a purplish hue before fading to black. It feels like an accusation and like death. Something orange catches his attention, and Anakin is wrenched out of the vision, the Force screaming in his ears as his bacta tank is opened.

But it’s not Kix who’s standing over him.

It’s someone else. A masked guard. Anakin vaguely recognizes the outfit as having belonged to one of the security officers who worked in Jabba’s palace. He replaced everyone with people he could trust, but some of the old guards still patrolled nearby. The man does not talk. He only lifts his hand, a short orange blade hissing to life.

Instinct makes Anakin scramble from the tank, naked save for a pair of underwear, dripping with bacta. He slips on the stone floor, reaching for the blasters that should have been left in the medbay for him. He keeps his gaze focused on the intruder… who is wielding a weapon Anakin had not thought possible. It’s not a lightsaber; it’s too small for that. The handle is smaller, palm sized. It’s a dagger. A lightdagger.

That is decidedly not good.

Whoever this is will soon learn that he’s messing with the wrong person. They’ll capture him, get the information from him on who sent him, and then kill him. That means they can use the Force if they need to. He can use the Force, and with the odds currently against him, Anakin has no doubt that he’ll need to.

His fingertips brush the cold durasteel of his blaster, and he lifts it, aiming and firing at the intruder. He ducks the shots with an ease that makes Anakin wary, lunging forward. Anakin uses the Force to stop the blade only inches from his bare skin. He senses no surprise from his opponent, and with a sinking feeling, he realizes what it means. Whoever sent him knows. They know he can use the Force. They might even know that he’s the Shadow and Anakin Skywalker.

His appearance has changed in his time on Tatooine but not enough. Anyone who knows his face will recognize this new version of him if they look closely.

Anakin kicks at him, catching him in the leg and sending him back a step, enough for him to shoot again. The assassin – whoever he used to be and whatever his role may once have been is here to assassinate him – deflects one with the dagger’s blade and swings at him again. They exchange a rapid flurry of blows, Anakin ducking away from the heat of the dagger when it gets close enough to singe his skin.

All at once, the door flies open and Kix runs inside, blaster in his hands. His eyes widen when he sees the assailant. “We have a security breach,” he calls into his comm.

Between him and Anakin, the assassin is put onto the defensive, and it only takes moments before Aayla and Owen join them. It doesn’t take long for them to get the lightdagger from the man’s hands and get him up against the wall, held at blaster point.

“Who are you?” Aayla demands sharply. Her accent is thick with her protective fury. “What are you doing here? Who sent you? Was it the Pykes?”

The helmeted head turns toward her, lingering for a long moment. Abruptly, he lifts his hands. The four of them are thrown backward with the Force. Anakin slams into the wall, collapsing to the floor. It’s shock that keeps him from instantly recovering and chasing the fleeing assailant.

The assassin is a Force user?

How did Anakin not sense him?

Aayla is the first to scramble to her feet, running after him, Owen right behind her. Kix pauses to help Anakin up, giving him a robe as they follow. They catch up at the entrance of the palace to see a speeder flying away at a speed too fast to be safe for any non-Force user.

Anakin stares after it, nonplused. “That… is not good,” he says – which yeah, obviously not.

“Something about him was familiar,” Aayla admits, crossing her arms. Her expression is troubled. “I don’t know who he was.”

Well, add that to the list of things they need to figure out, and fast. “He saw me use the Force,” Anakin admits, rubbing his face with his human hand. “We need to find him.”

“The palace is secure,” Kitster informs them, approaching, “but you should see this.” He hands over his datapad. It’s playing a recording of a burning building. Anakin recognizes it immediately. It’s the headquarters of the Trail, located in Mos Espa.

“When is this from?” he asks.

“Just now,” Kitster replies grimly. “It was the Pykes.”

So this is it.

This is the war that Anakin always knew could come to Tatooine but always hoped never would. They’re such a small out-of-the-way planet. They have no resources to offer anyone, but the Pykes, for whatever reason, are intent on invading anyway. He doesn’t understand why. What do they have to gain?

If it was the Empire, he could understand it. The Empire, at least, would have a reason to be hunting down a suspected Force user, even all the way out here in the Outer Rim. But this isn’t the Empire. This is a crime group… who might know – or at least suspect – who he is. Why?

Anakin doesn’t know, and he’s running out of time to find out.

They gather in the throne room to discuss the situation. He finds out from Aayla that some of the Pykes’ weapons – and those being carried by the six assassins from the Order of the Night Wind – were powered by kyber crystals. That, too, is a mystery. How could the Empire allow that? Anakin doesn’t know what Palpatine’s long-term plans are, but it seems foolish to permit the use of kyber crystals in weaponry. Such things could easily fall into the wrong hands and be used against the Empire… so how is it that they exist?

Even more questions.

Even fewer answers.

He had hoped to put this off for a little longer. Reva is still so young. He would like to protect her from the reality for a bit longer, but Tatooine is no place to hide the truth. She needs to know what’s going on, too. Anakin glances at her. Fear is in her eyes, but her face is set with determination. She’s too young to fight, but she still wants to do her part.

Everyone in this room are people he would trust with his life, and it’s for that reason that he admits what has been weighing on him ever since they first went to Freetown. “Whoever sent these men knows exactly who they’re dealing with, which means they might know who I am,” he tells them.

He watches their expressions shift, watches as realization dawns.

“We can’t take any chances,” he continues. “Owen and Beru, I need you to keep Reva save until this is over. If you think it’ll be best on your farm, then go once it gets dark. Kitster, you will need to be my double. If we can keep people thinking that Starkiller and the Shadow are separate, that will be best for everyone. I don’t want to bring out the armor or lightsaber unless it’s necessary, but I will do it if it’ll mean the difference between victory or defeat. Aayla and Kix, I’ll need you two with me.”

He looks between them. His friends. His family. This might be the last time they’re together… either at all or for a while depending on what happens.

“Understood,” Kitster answers. “I’ll do my part, and the Trail will do theirs. All the freed stand with you, Anakin. We’ll fight with you. You’re not alone in this fight.”

Anakin nods back to him, and their eyes meet, a moment of silent understanding passing between them. They were best friends when they were young, and Anakin always knew that Kitster had his back. Even when the other children laughed at him, Kitster believed in him. He knew Anakin was able to build that pod and win that race. And here they are, years later, reunited and fighting side by side to make their planet free.

“We need to spread out. Find out where the Pyke leadership is. They won’t be attacking us unless they’re here somewhere on the planet. Aayla, Kix, we’re going to Mos Espa.”

“Sir, is that wise?” Kix questions. “We’re far more secure here.”

“I know,” Anakin answers, “but those are my people, and I need to show everyone that I will not tolerate outside forces attempting to mess with us. This isn’t like the Clone Wars, Kix. The people who see us here are the ones who will either support us or turn on us.”

The clone pauses before nodding. “I’m with you.”

“I’ll go look around the city,” Aayla chimes in. “Someone somewhere must know something.”

“And I’ll meet with the leaders of the various quarters in Mos Espa,” Anakin says. “May the Force be with us all.”

It’s only Kix and Kitster who are with him when the leaders arrive at the palace. The meeting does not go as well as Anakin had hoped. They are not eager to commit themselves and their people to him, not if the Pykes don’t intend to attack them personally.

Tatooine has many species that live on it. The slaves were only one part of the population, and it is the unenslaved who will be his biggest adversary. Many of them were not fond of the way he overthrew the system and changed everything. Though there have been no rebellions, Anakin knows of the unrest. He’s doing the best he can, but with this new threat, his best might not be good enough.

Once, that knowledge might have filled him with discontent, but he has changed from the time when he was a Jedi. He is beginning to realize that maybe it isn’t fair to demand he fix everything. Maybe it’s not fair for him to be expected to do better than what he is capable of him. Maybe his best isn’t what is needed, but his best is still better than nothing.

This isn’t a battle he is waging alone.

They will do what they can, and though Anakin is afraid of the outcome, he also trusts that the Force will guide them. He has not had any premonitions of doom… though he does sense that everything is about to change in a major way. Whatever happens here will change his fate, and the fates of many others as well.

Perhaps he isn’t ready, but then, he probably never will be.

“So, it means war, then,” Kitster states after the leaders depart.

Anakin sighs, rising from his throne and descending to the stone floor. “Indeed, and we cannot count on their support, though I expect they will choose to remain neutral until they have cause to believe we will lose.”

“Better than nothing, I guess,” the other man mutters, shaking his head. “Be careful out there, Ani.”

A small smile flickers across his face at the childhood nickname. “You too.”

They hug each other briefly before Anakin goes to bid farewell to Owen, Beru, and Reva. The girl jumps into his arms the moment he appears, clinging tightly. “Dad, come back,” she all but begs.

Anakin holds her close to him, soaking in the soft warmth of her presence and wishing, fiercely, that Ahsoka was here, too. He could use her support and more than anything, he would like to know that she’s okay. His first daughter. The child he trained to be a soldier, no matter how much she had loathed the thought at first. He wishes he could go back and do it all again. He wishes he could spare Ahsoka from that, but he knows that his lessons are what kept her alive.

“I’ll be back, Reva,” he promises, kissing her forehead and letting her go.

Owen huffs. “You’d better,” he says, and he steps forward, squeezing Anakin’s shoulder. “We’ll stay here ‘til dark and then head out to the farm.”

Beru hugs him, too, and Anakin wraps an arm around her shoulders. She’s become a sister to him in the same way Owen is his brother. He’s glad he got the chance to get to know them.

They don’t linger, and they don’t give each other extended farewells. Though this could be the last time they see each other if something goes disastrously wrong, this is Tatooine. The planet is never a fully safe place. A risk is always present that something could do badly. That is just what it means to live here.

He feels their eyes on him as he climbs into the speeder with Kix, heading toward Mos Espa to join Aayla. Kitster will stay behind in case he’s needed to double as Starkiller and so he can oversee the operation from a safe distance. If something goes badly, he needs to be able to step up and lead the Trail. Even if they all die here, the movement must go on. The slaves who have been freed do not deserve to be re-enslaved when the Pykes arrive.

And, of course, there is still the other mystery of who is behind them. Someone sent them. Someone hired the Order of the Night Wind even though they only work under Hutt control. Someone sent in a trained Force user to kill him. That someone needs to be found and disposed of before the truth gets out, because Anakin knows that the moment Palpatine catches wind of him, he will bring down the Empire on Tatooine, and there will be no safe place for anyone.

Chapter Text

Anakin looks around in dismay at the burned-out building that once was the headquarters for the Trail’s network in Mos Espa. The Force feels of pain and death here, and if he looks closely, he can see the drying blood on the floor in some places. It’s obvious to him that this wasn’t just a random attack. It’s as he suspected: the Pykes mean to invade.

“I don’t understand what they could hope to gain,” Kix admits, standing at Anakin’s side. “Tatooine might be an easy target, but they have no foothold on the planet. Expanding their business here could be costly.”

Anakin nods in agreement. “Something about this does not seem right. Someone is pulling their strings, and we must determine who the puppet master is.”

“Where do we start?” Kix asks. “We weren’t trained for this kind of warfare.”

He says we as though there are other clones around. It hurts, momentarily, remembering where they used to be and looking at where they are now, but Anakin lets that feeling go. Now is the time to fight. They can mourn later.

In reply, he taps on his comm. “Kitster, do you have anything for us?”

Static answers him for a moment before Kitster’s voice comes through. “I just got a report from Wald. He’s at the docks. The last transports that arrived are filled with Pyke soldiers.”

Not good, but Anakin had expected no less. He knew they meant war by bombing this building.

“Do we get reinforcements? What’s the status at Freetown?” Once he knows who will be there to help, he’ll be able to plan a means of attack. Or defense, depending on the situation.

“I got in contact with Vanth,” Kitster tells him. “The people are shaken from the attack, but the uninjured intend to come here and help. If we fall, so do they.”

“Keep an eye on the status,” Anakin orders, “and I’ll let you know when – and if – I need you.”

“Got it,” Kitster replies.

Anakin exchanges a look with Kix as he comms Aayla. For now, it’s just the two of them against… Force knows how many Pyke soldiers. They’re good, but he doesn’t think they’re that good. “Where are you?” he asks Aayla.

“Searching the city,” she replies. “I’m hearing whispers that the Pyke leadership is already on the planet holed up in Mos Eisley.”

That could mean… many things, and Anakin weighs their options, trying to determine the best path forward.

“I can take them,” she continues. “Give me the word, and I’ll take them out.”

His heart clenches. Can he truly ask her to do something like that? Can he ask her to assassinate someone in cold blood? And yet, he knows that she already has – even if she’s never talked to him about it. She’ll do it again, too, if she has to. This isn’t just about them and their morals and what the Jedi Code dictates. They are long past those days, no matter how Anakin might mourn where they used to be and how far they’ve had to fall.

“Okay,” he whispers, and hopes and prays that it won’t damage her too badly, “do it.”

Kix is wandering the length of the room when Anakin gets off the comm. “We can set up base here,” the clones points out, tapping on the walls. “They’re strong. Durable. They’ll hold up well against blasterfire.”

“And there is just the one entrance,” Anakin realizes. He glances at the destroyed doorframe. It’s still secure, even if it’s blackened. The window next to it has been shattered, but it’s only the one side they need to worry about – at least for now.

“If we can shoot fast enough, we’ll be able to hold them off until reinforcements get here,” Kix answers. There’s a certain feigned cheer to his voice that Anakin doesn’t like.

“You’re not dying on my watch, Kix,” Anakin says firmly.

The medic doesn’t answer. Maybe he doesn’t believe him, or maybe he’s thinking about how once, he’d have had his brothers at his side – and they’re not here. He leans forward, staring out into the streets. “Gen- Starkiller, I think someone is out there.”

Anakin doesn’t comment on the slip. It’s instinct for his men to call him ‘General’ and Kix has done his best to shake the habit, but sometimes, it comes out anyway, especially if he’s distracted. He draws his blasters, keeping them in his hands as he ventures through the entrance, trusting the Force to warn him if there’s immediate danger.

He sees a shadowed, but familiar, figure strolling down the street toward him.

“Starkiller!” yells Cad Bane himself.

Great.

Anakin has run into Bane a handful of times. The bounty hunter is slippery and dangerous, even for Jedi. He captured Ahsoka once and nearly killed her. Bane is not someone Anakin wants to face unless he’s armed with the Force and a lightsaber. Unfortunately for him, Jacen Starkiller is supposed to have neither.

“Looking for work?” Anakin drawls, ready to lift his blasters on a moment’s notice.

Bane ignores the question. “The Pyke Syndicate sent me.” His posture is casual, but Anakin can feel the intent focus of his gaze. The moment Anakin moves to lift a weapon, Bane will, too. “They want to negotiate. If you let them run spice through Tatooine, you’ll get part of the profit.”

Anakin scoffs. “No. I don’t deal with criminals. Tell them to leave, and I will allow them to depart with their lives.” Maybe what he needs to do most right now is stall for time.

Bane grins. “I hope you’re not counting on getting help. None is coming.”

The Force rings with a lie. Bane is lying to him, trying to cow him into submission.

“I don’t need help,” Anakin replies. It’s a bold statement, but at least he isn’t lying. When he gives the word, Kitster will come with the armor and lightsaber and the Shadow will strike again.

“Oh? Don’t think I don’t know about your Jedi,” Bane sneers. “The Shadow you people call him. He’s no match for the Pyke forces.”

Anakin almost smiles.

Almost.

“Do we have an agreement?” Anakin asks politely.

Bane turns away. “You had your chance, Starkiller.” With those words, he walks away, and Anakin doesn’t miss the two figures backing away from the edge of a nearby roof. One’s holding a sniper rifle, body clad in black, an orange helmet obscuring her features. He can tell it’s a woman, but he cannot see her face. The other figure… is familiar. His beskar armor gleams in the sunlight, and it sinks in just who that is.

Boba Fett.

Anakin hasn’t heard from him since he escaped from prison after attempting to assassinate Windu. But here he is. It sends conflicted feelings through Anakin to see him. Boba is… many things, but he’s still a kid, and Anakin would like to avoid killing him if possible.

“Will we need the Shadow?” Kix asks softly as Anakin steps back into the building.

Anakin takes a deep breath and reaches out to the Force. He doesn’t know what’s coming, but this – this is war. He has to do whatever he must in order to win. The people here need him, and he cannot afford to fail. He can feel the struggle ahead of him, not just today, but in the coming weeks. Things are changing, some for the better and some for the worse. This is the path he was meant to take, but it will still be filled with difficulties and challenges.

“Yes,” he answers, hesitating, “I think we will.”

Kix nods to him, face hidden by his helmet as he looks back at the streets. “Their Force-sensitive ally might return,” he points out, “and even if he doesn’t, they’ll probably be bringing kyber weapons with them.”

Anakin appreciates the reminder though he could never have forgotten the risks lying ahead of them. He misses the steady, solid presence of Rex. He misses the way they worked together, the way Rex completed his leadership in a way that no one else ever has. They learned each other’s weaknesses and how to make the best possible strategies. If Rex was here, this would be easier.

But he doesn’t have Rex.

“I know,” he answers, tapping on his comm. “Kitster, I’m going to need you here. Bring the crate – you know which one. We need to switch roles.”

“On it,” Kitster replies immediately. “I’ll come in through the underground entrance.”

Right. The one in the back office that he doubts the Pykes could find even if they knew the tunnels existed. It’ll be their only means of escape if this goes badly.

“They’re coming,” Kix warns him, and Anakin steps up to stand next to the clone, looking out into the streets, and the myriads of Pyke soldiers who are approaching.

“I don’t see Bane or the other bounty hunters,” Anakin notes.

“They’ll bring up the rear,” Kix replies, flicking the safety off his blaster. “The Pykes will wear us down and Bane will come in for the kill.”

Anakin follows his lead, lifting his blasters and preparing to fire. “Last chance,” he yells into the street. “Surrender or die.”

He feels amusement from some of the Pykes – understandable given that he and Kix are only two individuals against dozens of soldiers. The people from Freetown will come and so will Kitster, but Anakin doesn’t know if they’ll arrive soon enough.

“Pick your targets,” Anakin tells Kix.

The clone huffs. “It was an honor to serve with you, sir.” His voice is dry, betraying that a part of him doesn’t believe these are really his final words.

Anakin smirks. Bantering before a battle is familiar. Soothing. “Alright, cut the chatter.”

He and Kix open fire on the Pykes, picking them off one by one. Briefly, Anakin thinks it might have been a good idea to bring some of the kyber weapons with them, but it’s too late for regrets. They can only work with what they have now.

The Pykes return fire, the barrage of blaster bolts slamming into the exterior walls. Some of them enter the broken window and entrance, narrowly missing them. Anakin uses the Force to nudge s few of the shots off-course, so they fly harmlessly past instead of hitting either of them. It’s the most he can do to protect them without outing himself, and if he can avoid revealing his abilities, that would be for the best.

He and Kix shoot as fast as they can, but it isn’t fast enough. Many Pykes are falling to the ground, but even more are slowly advancing on the building. It won’t be long before they’re at the entrance. Anakin and Kix might be skilled, but the Pykes have numbers which works to their advantage. For a few, terrifying minutes, Anakin thinks they’ll have to flee and hope for the best right when an explosion shakes the ground outside.

“Is that–?” Kix starts, lifting his head and shooting a couple more Pykes as some of them turn toward the person – or people – who fired the explosive.

More blaster fire rings out, taking down the incoming Pykes, and Anakin watches with relief as a speeder that’s been converted into a tank of sorts pulls up in front of the building. Vanth is driving with Wald next to him. The people from Freetown are here. Finally.

Their arrival gives Anakin the opportunity to comm Kitster again who answers that he’s in the tunnels and will be getting there soon. Though it might be risky to slip away, Anakin still does so because his transformation into the Shadow is probably the only thing that will win this war. If he shows the Pykes that they cannot win, they will withdraw eventually. It is not profitable for them to fight a losing battle.

Unless, of course, someone is controlling them, but one thing at a time, and Anakin cannot worry about possibilities.

“I am going to call in reinforcements,” Anakin tells Kix. “If I know the Pykes, they will send their bounty hunters back to pick more of us off. We need all the help we can get.”

Kix nods to him, and Anakin slips away into the back office. He finds the tunnel system without too much difficulty and opens the hatch, dropping inside. It’s dark, so he turns on a flashlight as he ventures into the tunnel. He meets Kitster a mere ten to fifteen minutes later, pulling the crate behind him. They don’t need to talk to know what has to be done, and in the darkness and safety of the underground, Anakin removes his Starkiller armor.

The crate has the supplies they need to disguise Kitster as Starkiller, and they make the change as quickly as possible. When that’s done, he withdraws the final object. It looks like a compact cube, but when Anakin presses the hidden button to activate it, it unfolds. The nanobots crawl up his arm, covering his entire body. This suit of armor is sleeker than the one that he used to use as the Shadow, but it’s also more durable. Dooku’s lightsaber hilt flies to his hand and he clips it to his belt.

“Where is the exit?” Anakin asks.

“Continue down the passageway for a couple of minutes and then take the tunnel to the right,” Kitster replies. “You’ll come out in the back of a warehouse. There are speeders there.”

Anakin nods. “I will meet you shortly.”

They part ways, and it’s only a handful of minutes later that Anakin emerges in the warehouse. The speeder is there as Kitster said it would be, and Anakin climbs on it, firing it up and flying away. It doesn’t take him long to reach the site of the battle. He can hear – and feel – it from afar, and the Force guides him. He leaves the speeder in an ally before rounding the corner and stepping into the sunlight of the streets.

The Pykes don’t notice him right away, too focused on closing in on the building. Despite the many of them who have fallen, they do not stop coming, pressing in and trapping the fighters inside. Anakin checks on them through the Force. A couple of them are injured, but no one is dead. Yet. That can – and will – change soon if he doesn’t do something.

He draws his – Dooku’s – lightsaber, igniting it with a familiar snap-hiss. He misses the feeling of a lightsaber in his palm, the kyber crystal resonating with him in the Force. It’s been so long since he’s last wielded one of these in battle – and spars with Aayla or Reva don’t count. It’s not the same.

The sound draws the Pykes attention, and they turn on him. Anakin’s lightsaber is a blur as he stalks closer, reaching for the Force and tugging. He rips several of their blasters from their hands, letting them fall harmlessly to the sand and hurling the soldiers backward. They are nothing when he has embraced his true form. The Dark flows through him, filling him with power, and Anakin cuts through the Pykes with ease.

He can feel the shock of the fighters on his side that soon morphs to relief. It’s the first time he has appeared as the Shadow during the day in front of so many people. When he stormed Jabba’s palace to save Reva, he was seen but it was not like this.

This is a public statement, and he knows that there is a high risk that word will get back to the Empire, but that’s a chance he had to take. For his people, he will risk anything.

The Force warns him of danger, and Anakin spins away from the Pykes, knowing that their attention will return to the others with him distracted to see Bane followed by two other bounty hunters. It’s the two he saw shadowing Bane earlier. Anakin pauses, assessing them. At least now it will be a more even fight.

The bounty hunters begin shooting at him, trying to box him in as they close the distance between them.

“Starkiller has so much faith in you,” Bane drawls as they get closer, “but I’ve face down many Jedi.”

“I’m no Jedi,” Anakin replies and lunges. They exchange blows, and he’s not surprised that Bane mostly keeps up with him, even though a punch gets through, grazing the Duros’ jaw. Too bad it was Anakin’s organic hand. The mechanical one would have done a lot more damage.

Bane gives as good as he gets, but Anakin is still better. Defeating him will be easy.

And then Fett and the other bounty hunter close in on him. The three of them attack him together, and he’s mildly impressed that the female nearly gets a knife into him. He sensed it in time to block her, metal fingers crushing her wrist and forcing her to drop it.

They’re good, but Anakin is better.

He draws on the Dark, letting it flood him as he blasts all three of them back and away. Bane is slammed against a wall, and Anakin turns on the other two, opting to deal with them first. He can handle Bane if he’s not being backed up by someone else. Boba charges him, and it’s instinct for Anakin to let lightning burst from his fingertips, slamming into him and hurling him backward. It sets off his jetpack, sending him flying a short, uncontrolled distance away, smashing into the corner of a building. His helmet falls off as he hits the sand, and Anakin closes in on him, lightsaber in his hand.

Boba goes still when he feels the heat of the red blade on him, and Anakin stares down at the teenager’s terrified but stubborn, familiar brown eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you, Boba,” he says. “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

“I’m not–” he snarls, outraged.

“Stay out of this for your own good,” Anakin interrupts. He would have said more, but he senses the female sneaking up on him. He spins, his blade stabbing through her gut. She makes a choked sound as she collapses to the ground.

She’ll die soon, but she’s not his primary concern and nor is Boba.

It’s Bane.

He glances around, but he doesn’t see the Duros where he last was.

The Force prickles with warning, and Anakin barely throws up a Force shield in time to block the kyber-powered blaster bolt from hitting him in the head. The explosion nearly blinds him, and as he blinks the afterimages away, Bane attacks. It forces Anakin to draw on the Force to keep up with him. His prosthetic hand hits Bane in the chest, and a blast of lightning from his other hand narrowly misses the bounty hunter, but he still keeps coming.

Anakin reaches for his lightsaber again, going for the kill. Bane must sense it, too, because he grows more cautious, his attacks becoming more careful. The next lightning strike hits him, and Anakin electrocutes him until he’s unconscious. He might have killed him just to send a message when he hears the snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber.

He turns, and on the far end of the street stands the masked Force-user who attempted to kill him when he was in the bacta tank, a green lightsaber in his hand.

“Sith,” he hisses, “or is that Darth Vader? I’ve been hunting you.”

Chapter Text

Anakin glances in the direction of the remaining Pyke forces, turning away from them as he stalks down the street toward the assassin. He can trust that Kix, Kitster, and the others will be able to hold off the Pykes while he deals with the much greater threat. He draws on the Dark Side as he gets closer, letting its power sweep through him.

This will be the first true duel he has had since he fought Sidious – and failed to kill him. Though he has sparred with Aayla, it was never the same. They have always gone out of their way to avoid injuring each other.

“Where did you hear that name?” Anakin demands as he gets closer, red lightsaber blazing in his hand. The name Vader is one he has kept under tight wraps. For this masked assassin to know it is alarming. If he knows it, who else does as well?

The Force flickers with something that could be amusement. “You shared your name with the Trail, and I learned it from them,” he answers. “They call you the Shadow. They call you Vader. I have been wanting to meet you.”

With those words, he lifts his green lightsaber. Their blades meet, and Anakin tries not to focus too hard on how this unknown man is probably a former Jedi. He does not have the same raw Darkness that the Sith do. He is a Fallen Jedi. It’s the first Jedi that Anakin has ever fought – since Dooku wasn’t a Jedi – and he doesn’t know what the right choice is.

Should he go for the kill and live with the guilt of it, or should he attempt to disarm him so they can capture and question him? The second option is preferable but also far riskier.

And yet, if this man was willing to kill him when he was defenseless in his bacta tank, he is no longer much of a Jedi.

The assassin meets him blow for blow, and a part of Anakin enjoys it. He has not fought a worthy opponent in a long time, and he relishes the chance to let loose in this manner. The Force flows through him, warning him of the other man’s intentions before he makes the move. Anakin’s red blade is always there to block his green one. The assassin is relying on Form IV. Ataru. Unluckily for him, Anakin trained Ahsoka with that form extensively. He knows it well which means he knows how to counter it.

They fight, blocking and parrying each other’s blows as Anakin forces him backward, driving him away from the rest of the battle. Once, Anakin was one of the best duelists in the Order. He suspects that is still true, though he is admittedly surprised by his adversary’s skills. Not only is he able to keep up with Anakin, but he’s also more agile and versatile than Anakin anticipated.

“Who are you?” Anakin demands. “What do you hope to gain by allying with the Pykes?”

“Ever heard the saying of curiosity killing the tooka?” The assassin sounds amused. “I could tell you… but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Aren’t you planning to kill me anyway?” Anakin counters. “Is that not why you are here?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re dead.” He kicks Anakin back, and it would have hurt if his armor hadn’t absorbed the worst of the impact. He skids several feet back, catching his balance easily and rising to his full height. The assassin lunges forward, and they trade a flurry of furious blows, each trying and failing to push through the other’s defenses.

The duel is becoming tiring, and Anakin lets his frustration fuel him, pushing him deeper into the Dark and filling him with an intoxicating power. Lightning crackles at his fingertips and when their blades lock again, Anakin shoves a hand at the other man, letting electricity arc into his body, hurling him backward. He hits the ground, body sparking. Pain echoes into the Force, but he doesn’t let it stop him. He gets back up anyway, lifting his lightsaber into a ready stance though he’s more wary this time.

“You will fail,” Anakin promises. “Do you think yourself clever? You are hardly the first to want me dead, nor are you the first to attempt it.”

The Force whispers along with him, reverberating with Anakin’s certainty. He lifts his lightsaber again and attacks.

***

Aayla pushes her speeder to the limit, flying across the sand toward Mos Eisley. She lets the Force guide her, so she doesn’t hit anything as she goes. She knows what she has to do, even if she doesn’t want to do it. The Pyke leadership must be eliminated no matter the cost. It will render their soldiers leaderless, and the survivors will undoubtedly pull back. They have to make a stand to drive the Pykes away and protect their planet.

She knows Anakin can handle himself, but she still worries for him. She worries for everyone who will be fighting at his side. War does not come with a guarantee.

It feels like it takes far longer than it does to arrive at her destination, and she parks the speeder a distance away, closing in on foot. Reports have come in about where the Pykes have holed up, and Aayla surveys the warehouse from a distance away though a pair of macrobinoculars. There is a number of lifeforms inside, and she calculates the best way to eliminate everyone. The guards have to go first, but those should be easy.

She creeps closer, staying low to the ground and taking shelter around the corner of a building as she focuses on the two Pykes at the entrance. Being up-close to the target is always easier, but that’s not something she needs to worry about here. She focuses with the Force, squeezing their tracheas closed. They struggle, clawing at their throats as they try to breathe, but their deaths are relatively soundless. Their dead bodies collapse onto the ground, and Aayla walks closer, stepping over them as she opens the door to the building itself.

A handful of individuals are inside, not near enough to entrance to realize that she’s here. Not yet, at any rate. Her blaster is warm against her waist as she slinks toward the doorway of the main room. It’s large, a high ceiling and almost entirely empty space guaranteeing that any blaster bolts will be heard for a distance. Aayla cannot take the chance that someone will hear and come to the Pykes’ aid, especially not when she hears the murmur of voices. She shifts closer, listening.

It’s a transmission, and the voice who undoubtedly belongs to the Pyke leader is speaking. “– promised this would be a good deal for us!”

“Do not pull back,” replies another voice, low and rasping. It sends a shiver down Aayla’s spine. Whoever this is, it’s the one behind all of this. “Do not fail me.”

“But–”

His voice is interrupted by the crackle of static, signaling that the transmission was abruptly ended from the other side. If she can get to the projector, she might be able to find out to whom the Pykes were speaking. That makes it even more crucial that she end this quickly and quietly.

Time for plan B.

She shrugs off her outer cloak, leaving the blaster hidden under it in the shadow corner and securing the dagger to her thigh beneath the fabric of her undertunic. Boldly, she saunters into the room, hips swaying in seductive manner – or so she hopes. This is not something she has ever had to do. Her master refused to allow her to train as a shadow. He didn’t want her to be forced to take on the role that Twi’leks so often are, but she still learned from him, and in her time on Tatooine, she perfected the mask she knew she might have to one day wield.

Aayla is not stupid. She knows how other species see Twi’leks – as pretty, brainless creatures who are to be used and flaunted as decoration. Ever since what she endured as Jabba’s slave, she was forced to face the reality of what she might one day have to do at Anakin’s side. No one ever touched her when she was with Jabba, but she was forced to dance for his entertainment. She knows this role well, and though it makes her skin crawl to behave in such a manner, she does it.

For Anakin.

For Tatooine.

Weapons turn on her almost immediately, and she stills, holding up her hands to show she is unarmed.

“How did you get in?” barks one of the two guards on the inside of the doorway. Two more guards are guarding the back door.

“I thought,” Aayla purrs, letting her accent seep through, “you might wish for some entertainment.” Anakin taught her how to lose her native accent so she could blend in better and draw less attention, but there are still times when it has its uses.

The Pykes exchange looks.

“Should we throw her out?” the guard asks.

The Pyke leader sits back on his chair, staring at her thoughtfully. “Give us a show, Twi’lek, and I will let you live.”

Aayla almost smirks. Almost. Males are so predictable. She lets herself remember the moves she was taught in Jabba’s palace, and despite the lack of music in the room, she can recall the songs well enough. The rhythm of it is always there inside of her, and she allows herself to dance to it. Her body sways to the beat in her head, and she hums softly, nudging them with the Force to make them entranced by her. Unable to focus on anything but her.

She goes for the leader first, using the Force to clamp down on one of the major arteries in his chest. It takes almost no time for him to go into cardiac arrest. If they look at his body, it will appear as though a blood clot killed him – she has done this before once, and it worked. He gasps, clutching at his chest, and Aayla dances faster, waiting until the thud of his body hitting the floor resonates throughout the room.

Her startled half-shriek would have alerted the guards even if the sound didn’t, and they all rush to his side, panicked. Aayla waits until their backs are turned before she withdraws the dagger and goes for the kill.

The next few minutes are a blur of violence as she slits one throat after another, kicking aside the Pykes who go for her directly. The final one she stabs in the chest, the dagger sinking into him down to the hilt before she yanks it free. Her knife and hands are sticky with blood, and she makes a face at it, wiping it off on the bodies and using a canteen of water to wash it.

Then, she goes to the projector. Hacking is not her strong suit, but she can do it, and now, she must do it. When the signal from here goes dead, she expects that the Pykes will fall back, and she cannot be here when they arrive.

The mastermind behind this plot must be uncovered.

Everyone is counting on her, and Aayla does not intend to fail when she’s come this far.

***

The fight against the assassin turns brutal, neither he nor Anakin holding back in the slightest. It’s a fight to the death, a fight to see who gains the upper hand, and it is not a fight Anakin can afford to lose.

Their lightsabers clash repeatedly, and Anakin throws everything he has against the assassin.

Slowly, he is winning. He uses the Force to throw the man backward, leaping forward to deliver what could be a killing blow. It isn’t, but the tip of his blade cuts through the assassin’s helmet before the man kicks him back. Anakin stumbles, recovering himself, and in that time, his adversary stands, throwing his ruined mask onto the ground. When he turns back, Anakin’s breath catches in his lungs.

He knows that face. He knows him. It’s – it’s Quinlan Vos. It’s Aayla’s master. It takes all his willpower not to blurt out his name and demand answers, but he doesn’t. Can’t. He’s playing a role, and he cannot step out of it, not yet. The Kiffar’s eyes are narrowed and yellow, and Anakin feels a pang at the sight. This is not the first time Vos has Fallen to the Dark Side.

Vos may be trying to kill him, but that doesn’t mean Anakin wants to see him dead. What would it do to Aayla if she came back to see her master dead? Anakin knows how close they are, and he would never be able to forgive anyone who killed Obi-Wan. He doesn’t know what the right thing to do is.

And if Vos knows who Anakin is, he shows no signs of it. The promise of murder is still in his gaze, and Anakin fully expects him to attack.

Except then, Vos’ comm beeps. He glances down at it, brow furrowing. He taps on it. “Pull back,” he orders, casting Anakin another look. He wants to keep fighting, but the Pykes must be being overwhelmed for him to issue such a command. “I’ll meet you back at the base.”

He lifts his hands, and Anakin doesn’t anticipate the strength behind the Force shove that catches him. He’s thrown into a wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

When he looks up, Vos is gone.

***

“Aayla, come in.”

Anakin sounds breathless, and she looks away from the console that she has just finished hacking into to answer the comm. “What is it?”

“The Pykes have pulled out,” he tells her. “They’ll be heading toward you. Are you done?”

“Almost,” she replies. “I’m hacking into their communications to find out who was directing them. I think I can pull the coordinates.”

“Good,” he answers. He sounds hesitant, and her instincts – and the bond linking them together -let her know that something isn’t right. “I fought the assassin again.”

“Did you kill him?”

“… No.” His voice is strained. “It’s– Aayla, it’s Vos.”

Her world crashes to a halt. Vos. Vos? Her master? She’d thought him dead. Hoping for his survival would have been foolish when so many Jedi fell during the Purge. But he’s… not dead. He’s – he’s alive. Relief and gratitude hit her first, followed closely by dread. If her master could have fallen so far that he’s turned to the Dark Side and tried to kill Anakin, then what else is he capable of? What does he know? Does he realize it’s Anakin? Does he know that Anakin is both Jacen Starkiller and the Shadow? What will that mean for them? Who else knows???

So many questions and too few answers.

“Let me talk to him,” she says. “I know my master. He would never hurt me.”

“Aayla, don’t,” Anakin almost begs. “He’s not the man you once knew.”

“No,” she agrees, “but none of us are the same anymore. Anakin, trust me. I need to do this.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Okay,” he whispers, “but you need to come back home.”

Aayla swallows, nodding even though he won’t see. “I promise.”

She disconnects the comm, copying the coordinates she’s finally located onto a datastick before retrieving her cloak and blaster and stepping into a side alley, waiting. It takes a while before the retreating Pykes arrive. They don’t notice her, and she stares at Vos as he climbs out of the speeder on which they’d fled. His face is exposed. It’s the first time she’s seen him in months. Over a year. He looks older. It’s her first thought. Older and tired.

Aayla pokes at him through the Force, fleeting but still enough that he’ll sense it. Come and find me. He stiffens, looking around, and she retreats further into the shadows, knowing that he’ll follow. Sure enough, it’s only minutes before she can sense his footsteps on the sand coming closer. “Hello, Master,” she says softly as Vos steps into view.

Emotion flashes across his face, and she can see that despite how much time has passed, he is still just as fond of her as she is of him. He was the only father she’s ever known. “Aayla.” He says her name the way he always has, and it makes her want to go closer and hug him, but she holds back, waiting. “You– you shouldn’t be here.” He studies her, taking her in. “Was that your handiwork inside?” He sounds… sad.

“The only path is that of survival,” Aayla replies. She feels little guilt for her actions. It was necessary for the greater good and for all the people here who are relying on them for protection. “You know that as well as I do. The Jedi are not safe anymore.” Her tone borders on accusing, letting him know that she can feel the Dark in him.

Vos nods. “No, they are not. The Sith have gained power.” His words feel oddly pointed in a way that Aayla doesn’t like, and she risks taking a step closer to him.

“What are you doing here, Master?” she asks. “Why are you doing this? You’re hurting innocent people. Allying with the Pykes? They are criminals.”

Vos shakes his head. “I’m not their ally,” he answers. “I’m not the one they are working for.”

Her heart is hammering. “Then who?” she demands. She’s afraid to know, but she must. She needs to know the truth.

He hesitates. “Maul,” he replies, and Aayla stares at him, wide-eyed and horrified. Of all the people Vos could be working with… why Maul? He must see the question in her eyes, because he moves closer to her. She flinches back instinctively when he tries to reach out to her.

“Aayla, you must understand,” he pleads. “Sidious won the war. I had no choice! I was on the run, living in hiding, constantly moving from place to place. And then I met Maul. He promised me something. He promised me a way to kill the Sith Lord and avenge all the Jedi who died.”

“Then why,” she enunciates slowly, “are you here?”

“You know,” Vos replies. “I have no doubt that the moment you can, you’ll run back to tell Starkiller everything.” He pauses. “Or should I say the Shadow?” His eyes glint dangerously. “I know who he is, Aayla.”

Her hands curl into fists, and she hates the part of herself that wishes she had a lightsaber. She swore herself to Anakin, and that means protecting him from every threat… even if that threat is her very own master. But Vos doesn’t give her a chance to speak.

“He’s dangerous. You have no idea how dangerous he is. He is of the Sith. If I can destroy him, then I can destroy Sidious,” Vos presses.

Aayla scoffs. “Anakin is not a Sith, Master, and I think you know that, too. Or did Maul blind you so thoroughly?” She hurts for him, too. At his core, Vos is a man who feels intensely. He is not doing this out of spite or anger. He is doing this because he, like every Jedi, was hurt deeply when the Order fell.

“He is the key,” Vos insists.

She frowns at him. “Yes…” she agrees slowly. “He’s the Chosen One.”

“No,” he answers. “He is the key of the Sith. Unless he is stopped, Sidious will win.” His eyes glint gold in the sunlight, and he holds out a hand. “Join me, Aayla. Together, we can destroy the Sith and avenge all our fallen brothers and sisters.”

Aayla shakes her head, stepping back. “You have gone down a path I cannot follow, Master,” she answers. She pretends her voice isn’t trembling. “You don’t know Anakin like I do. I will not let you hurt him. If you want him, you’ll have to go through me.”

For a moment, he looks betrayed, and she expects that to turn to anger. She expects him to lash out at her, and everything inside of her screams at that. This is her master. In another life, he could have been her father. It’s wrong for him to hurt her.

But instead, his expression crumbles. “Aayla,” he whispers, silently begging her to reconsider. Asking her to choose him over Anakin.

“I can’t,” she says, backing away. “Maul is either deceiving you or misguided himself. I am not betraying Anakin. He is the Chosen One, and he will save us.” Of course, that’s not why she’s staying with him. Even if Anakin wasn’t the most powerful Force user to walk the galaxy, she would have chosen him because of who he is. He’s a good person, and most of all… she loves him. She loves him, and she will not betray him.

She will never betray Anakin.

Vos steps toward her, and Aayla turns and flees. She cannot stay here any longer, cannot take the risk that the man she loves as a father might turn her against the man she would marry in a heartbeat if she could. She will never ask that of Anakin, but that does not mean she cannot feel for him.

It is Anakin who saved her from Jabba, and it is Reva who is their daughter. It is to her family that she will give her loyalty, not her once master who has Fallen to the Dark Side and joined yet another Sith.

She hears Vos calling her name, but she doesn’t look back.

She cannot look back. Her future is ahead of her, and that is where she must be.

Chapter Text

With Vos gone, Anakin knows it’s time for the Shadow to disappear once more. He signals for Kitster to meet him in the tunnels, going back the way he came. They switch easily, and Anakin leaves Kitster to get back to the palace while he returns to join everyone else. He can feel their exhaustion in the Force before he emerges back into the daylight.

“Kix?” he asks, looking around. He doubletakes when he sees Kix treating the black-clothed bounty hunter. She’s still alive. Anakin expected her to die, but… she didn’t. Boba is crouched next to her, radiating a sullen stubbornness. He’s still here, though. “What’s the status?”

The medic glances at him only briefly as he works to stabilize the dying bounty hunter. “Some injured,” he answers. “Nothing that won’t heal. Boba agreed to work with us as long as I saved Fennec Shand.”

Anakin nods, glancing at the young clone again. “That was the right call. He’s your responsibility though, Kix. Keep an eye on him.”

Boba scowls. “I’m not going to betray you.”

“Forgive me for being cautious,” Anakin answers dryly, “but you were just fighting us. Kix will treat your companion. We won’t deny her medical care, and then… I guess you’ll be on your way?”

A hesitation. “Will you feed us to your rancor if I say no?”

Anakin nearly rolls his eyes. “No, kid, I won’t. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want if you don’t hurt my people. Deal?”

Boba shrugs. “Yeah. Deal.”

He will have to keep an eye on Boba Fett and hope he doesn’t get himself into too much trouble, but for some reason, the Force is telling him not to worry. It’s saying Boba will prove to be useful to them in the future. He is not their enemy.

Anakin might question that a bit more if he didn’t have far more pressing matters to worry about. “Kix, can you and Kitster handle the situation here? I need to strategize and figure out what to do next.”

Kix glances at him again. “Yes, sir,” he replies. “You can go ahead. We got this.”

Anakin leaves the building, heading out to wait a distance away for Aayla’s return. He knows that they’ll need the privacy – he can feel the turbulence of her emotions through their bond. Her skin is pale, and her expression is tight when she flies up to where he’s waiting. She climbs off the speeder, and Anakin scans her, closing the distance between them to touch her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She nods. “Y-yeah,” she answers, lekku twitching. “I’m fine.”

Physically, yes, but Anakin isn’t certain that the same is true emotionally. “What happened?” he asks. He already knows she spoke to Vos. It’s written in her posture, and he felt her emotions spiking through their bond. And more than that, he knows her. She would never leave without confronting her master. Aayla might be a Jedi, but she still cares deeply for Vos.

Her shoulders slump. “He’s working for Maul,” she whispers, glancing around. She withdraws a datastick and hands it to him. “I was able to hack into their communication console. This should have the information we need to trace the transmission.”

Anakin looks at it and then back at her. “You mean we can find Maul?”

“Yes,” she confirms, “we can find Maul… and we can find out why he’s doing this. We can stop this. All of this.” She gestures vaguely. “The Pykes, the kyber weapons. We can end it.”

The Force tells him it will not be that easy, but all his life, he has taken risks and chosen the path most likely to bring him success. There have never been any certainties in his life, and that is especially true now. Why should it be any different now?

“Agreed,” Anakin answers. “This is something we must do.” He glances in the direction from which he came, where Kix is still patching up the wounded. “We should go back to the palace,” he continues. “I will let Owen and Beru know it is safe, and then, we can locate Maul. We must move quickly before he slips from our grasp.”

Aayla bobs her head in agreement, but he can sense that she is still troubled.

“What did Vos say to you?” he asks gently.

For a moment, the Twi’lek doesn’t answer. “He… wanted me to join him,” she replies quietly. “He said Maul promised him a way to defeat Sidious… and that it involved killing you. I– I–” She stops, breath hitching, and Anakin doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“We’ll locate him,” he promises, “and we can find a way to show him that he doesn’t have to go down this road.”

This is, after all, not the first time Vos has Fallen. He found his way back once, and Anakin believes he may be able to do so again if they can give him a reason. He knows it is inevitable that his path with cross with the Fallen Jedi Master, and when it does, he only hopes that he will not be forced to choose between protecting himself and killing Vos. It would devastate Aayla to lose her former master, just like it would break him to lose Obi-Wan.

They return to the palace together, and Anakin immediately gets to work on breaking the encryption on the information that Aayla downloaded. It takes him several hours before he’s broken in, and when he does, he’s a bit disappointed to realize that it doesn’t have Maul’s coordinates. The planet, Daiyu, is merely a bounce-off point for Maul’s signal. But it’s a good start, at least, so he’ll take it. He shouldn’t be surprised. Maul has always been crafty. He won’t make it easy to track him down, or the Republic would have located him long before Ahsoka and Bo-Katan came to him for help.

He doesn’t know what happened on Mandalore. Last he heard, Ahsoka was still working on tracking and capturing Maul. She’d fought him once and lost, but she admitted that Maul wasn’t trying to kill her which had allowed her to escape. She was planning to keep searching, and Anakin had hoped to go there to reinforce her.

But then Order 66 happened, and he never got the chance.

He doesn’t know where Ahsoka is now, but she must be alive, or he would have felt her die. If he finds that Maul killed her, there is nowhere he can go, nowhere he can hide to escape from Anakin’s wrath. He is not a Jedi, not anymore, so revenge is something he can afford to get.

They wait until the next day to act on it, and Anakin gets confirmation from Kix that the bounty hunter Fennec Shand will survive her injury. Good. That means he doesn’t need to worry about Boba turning on them in his absence. This will be the first time he’s left Tatooine since he came. It’s… almost terrifying. He isn’t ready to leave on his own, but Aayla has to stay here. Someone has to watch over the planet when he’s gone in case the Pykes come back, and Anakin won’t ask Kitster to do it alone.

“Are you sure ‘bout this, Ani?” Kitster asks, coming to stand at Anakin’s side as he stares out at the endless sand dunes outside the window.

Anakin bumps their shoulders together, grateful to have the steady warmth of his best friend at his side. After so many years, here they are, reunited again. He can’t say how much it means to him to have Kitster with him again. “I don’t have a choice, Kit,” he replies. “I– I’m terrified.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “But I have to do this. I have to find Maul and stop him. If he’s doing this to us, who else is he hurting with these weapons?”

Kitster is quiet for a long moment. “May the Sand and Stars watch over you,” he answers, and Anakin can’t help but smile wistfully at the familiar phrase. It’s the Tatooine version of good luck and may the Force be with you. “Don’t worry about us. Aayla, Kix, and I will keep everyone safe and sound until you get back.”

Anakin huffs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I know.”

His best friend throws an arm around Anakin’s shoulders, pulling him against his side. “You’d better come back, you hear me?”

Anakin turns to hug him. “I will,” he vows. “I have to come back to Reva. Take care of her for me.”

“Always.”

It’s comfortable with Kitster, much like it was with Rex, except Rex never got a childhood. Anakin was responsible for Rex. He’s not responsible for Kitster, so he can rest assured that if he’s too worn to support himself, Kitster will be here to help him. That’s what friends do.

Owen and Beru come back with Reva, and they both fuss over him, too. To Anakin, leaving the planet isn’t a big deal, except it kind of is. The galaxy is not what it once was, and there is no safe place for Force users, much less one like him. When he leaves, he’ll only have himself to rely on.

It’s… scary. He’s gotten this family, these friends. He’s learned how to let them take care of him even while he takes care of them. Leaving the safety and security of his home isn’t something he’s prepared for, but he doesn’t have a choice. This is for them. For Tatooine. For freedom.

And Anakin Skywalker has never backed down from helping those who are unable to help themselves. It was that need to help others that made the little slave boy leave his mother and venture out to the stars.

Reva isn’t happy about him leaving. She takes it the worst, but Anakin knows she’ll be okay. He’ll come back, and she’ll understand that he did what had to be done, since there was no one else who could do it.

“I want you to lead while I’m gone,” Anakin tells Aayla, his hands on her shoulders. “Take care of the people, and let Kitster and Kix take care of you, okay? I know you can do this.”

She forces a smile. It doesn’t quite meet her eyes, but he understands it. She’s still shaken from her meeting with Vos. He only wishes he had more time to speak to her about it, but he doesn’t. This is his duty. He has to protect his people. “I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.” Her gaze is soft, eyes gentle and warm with a deep fondness that Anakin shares. They’ve come a long way from where they used to be, and she is one of his closest friends. She is the only one who understands what it means to be a Jedi survivor.

“You know I’ll come back,” Anakin says.

She steps back, nodding. “I know. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” Anakin replies, boarding the shuttle.

He doesn’t look back.

He’s leaving Tatooine as Jacen Starkiller, but it’s the Shadow who will venture into the underworld, crimson blade blazing as he protects his people.

His destination is Daiyu.

Anakin blames his distractedness on the reason he doesn’t notice the Force presence until he’s already made the jump to hyperspace. It’s only then, when he’s trying to relax, that he realizes that he can sense someone he should definitely not be sensing.

He closes his eyes, counting down from ten so he doesn’t panic or do anything inadvisable before he stands, heading from the cockpit into the back of the shuttle. “You can come out,” he says flatly. “I can feel you.”

A long pause as the guilty party debates whether or not to follow his directive. Eventually, she settles on stubborn defiance and creeps into view.

Anakin stares down at her. “You shouldn’t be here, Reva.”

She scowls and then pouts. “I didn’t want you to go alone!”

He sighs. He ought to be mad at her, and he is, a little bit, but… he also understands. If she hadn’t come, this would have been their first time being separated for an extended period of time. “I have more training than you,” he tells her, “and the place I’m going to is not one for children.”

“I can protect myself,” she insists stubbornly. “You made sure of that.”

He can feel the hum of her kyber and her blaster is visible at her side. She didn’t come unarmed, and grudgingly, Anakin has to approve. She’s clever. She’s not the same child he rescued from the Temple over a year ago. She’s grown, even if she is still far too young for him to be comfortable taking her to a place such as Daiyu. She’s not even thirteen yet.

Anakin sighs. “It’s too late to take you back, but you must understand the dangers of coming. I am hunting a Sith, Reva.”

She nods. “I know who Maul is.”

“Then you know how dangerous he is,” Anakin replies. “It will not be safe to leave you on the ship.” And not only because he doesn’t know for sure that he’ll be leaving on the same shuttle he’s arriving on. “If you want to come with me, you must do as I tell you. If I tell you to run, you run. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” she promises.

“And do not use your lightsaber or the Force unless there is no other choice,” he warns.

“I won’t.” She seems a bit too chipper at being here. She’s so young. It reminds him a bit of Ahsoka, but Reva, unlike Ahsoka, understands the risks. She nearly died at the Temple, and though it does not traumatize her like it once did, Anakin knows it still haunts her nightmares sometimes. She is young, but she is not too young to understand the gravity of their situation.

“Alright,” he says, sighing again, as he gestures for her to follow him back to the cockpit, “let’s go over all the rules.”

Reva’s unexpected presence has made what would have been a difficult mission into an almost impossible one. Not only does he need to locate Maul somewhere on a planet filled with criminals who could all turn against him in the blink of an eye, but also, he has to defeat him and escape. He needs to find answers, and with the Pykes retreating from Tatooine – Kitster confirmed through the Trail that they’ve withdrawn off-world – chances are high that he could run into Vos once more. If the Fallen Jedi Master is set on his death, Anakin will have no choice but to defend himself.

Though he knew the mission to Daiyu would be hard, with Reva here, it’s shaping up to be even more challenging than he first anticipated.

***

Obi-Wan has been searching for months. At first, he’d been confident that he could find Anakin eventually. It seemed like a certainty because the Anakin he knew could never sit still. But as time went on, he began to realize that either he doesn’t know Anakin nearly as well as he thought, or Anakin is really that good at staying hidden. Both are options, but he doesn’t give up.

Over time, his hunt expands to the… Predator that Sidious accused him of being. The man’s identity is an unknown, but Obi-Wan would very much like to find out who he is. He wonders if he’s the same blue lightsaber wielding attacker who showed up on Alderaan, the one who wore a helmet he should never have found. He has heard whispers in the underworld. He’s heard of a madman with a blue blade who attacks Imperial outposts, leaving nothing but bodies in his wake. He has even seen the aftermath of one of those massacres, and yet, he is no closer to tracking down the elusive shadow.

The Predator.

If that is truly his name, then it is an apt one.

Obi-Wan wants to find him. He wants answers. He wants to know how any Jedi could have fallen so far from his path. Eventually, he begins to wonder if the Predator is also hunting Anakin. He is looking for someone. That much was obvious based on their encounter on Alderaan, but he has heard murmurs, and he has spoken to a couple of the only survivors of the rampage.

It was too late to save them, and in their dying words, told Obi-Wan that the madman had been hunting for someone. Could it be Anakin? He doesn’t know. He has no proof that it is Anakin, but his instincts tell him it is. Why else would the Predator have been so certain that the someone would show up on Alderaan when he and Obi-Wan fought?

He has been searching in the underworld, keeping his eyes open for sightings of the Predator or Anakin, or indeed, any surviving Jedi. Bail knows to tell him as well, but Obi-Wan suspects that his contacts extent much further and deeper than do Bail’s. Obi-Wan might not have been trained as a Shadow, but he knew Vos. Vos was one of his best friends, and Obi-Wan picked up a lot from him on how to be a Shadow.

And then he overheard the whispers of someone else, someone he has not thought about since the Empire rose.

Maul.

Perhaps Obi-Wan has not been able to find Anakin. Perhaps the Predator will continue to elude him – or indeed, perhaps it is Anakin. That is a reality for which Obi-Wan is unprepared. If Anakin has truly fallen so far, he doesn’t know what he would do.

He cannot find them, but maybe… he can find Maul. Maybe he can put an end to a different monster even if it’s not the one who destroyed the Jedi Order and Republic in one stroke.

The whispers of Maul have led him here.

To Daiyu.

It is time for the hunt to begin.

Chapter Text

Rumor has it that a Jedi is on Daiyu. Windu doesn’t know if he can believe it, but it is possible. Far more Jedi have survived than he could ever have dreamed of at first, and slowly but surely, he is bringing them all back together. They will grow strong in the shadows, and the day is coming that they will rise and destroy Sidious – and the Empire with it.

Every planet he goes to suffers the loss of Imperials. Windu locates the outpost – if it’s there – and destroys it. He will not let the Sith forget that he’s still out here… and that they have not located, much less stopped, him.

The outpost on Daiyu is no different. He’s patrolling the streets, taking out the remaining stormtroopers that he can find when his comm pings. It’s from Vos, and Windu retreats to the coordinates of the bar that Vos sends to him. The Kiffar is waiting, and Windu is quick to join him. They don’t speak immediately, and Windu takes the opportunity to down a few shots of the strongest alcohol the bar has.

He doesn’t drink as much as he used to, but it’s still his go-to after a particularly brutal massacre – or sometimes before he has to do it. If he’s intoxicated, it’s easier to focus on the killing and less on the echoes of pain and death in the Force. Fighting off the Dark is sometimes a struggle for him, but he was not a Jedi Master for nothing. His knowledge of Vaapad is the only thing that keeps him from losing his carefully crafted control.

“Rough few weeks?” Vos asks finally, turning toward him.

Windu just barely refrains from scoffing. “Years,” he corrects, deadpan.

“Maul’s got plans,” Vos tells him. “He wants to use the city as a testing ground for the new weapons. If they work… he intends to manufacture what he can. I’ll get a load for you.”

Windu nods. He knows of Maul’s plans – Vos has kept him updated on everything Maul is doing ever since they first got back in contact with one another a few months ago. Having a Shadow as skilled as Vos on his side is useful. “What else?” he questions, because he can sense the thoughtful silence from the man next to him.

Vos grunts. “I’ve got a tail,” he admits. “Maul wanted me to lure him here.” He glances sideways at Windu. “Skywalker.”

His breath catches in his lungs, and his right hand squeezes the edge of the bar hard enough to nearly fracture the stone. “Where?”

The other Jedi shrugs. “He’ll be coming. He’s got himself a new name now. Darth Vader.”

“A Sith,” Windu says woodenly.

“Yeah,” Vos answers, subdued. “Maul said he was always meant to be the Sith’s. To be Sidious’.”

This time, his hand clenches down hard enough to break off a piece of the stone. He lets it fall to the floor, but no one notices the sound over the thumping music in the background. He forces himself to let go. “He’s here for Sidious,” Windu insists, because that’s the only thing that makes sense. The alcohol is distorting the edges of reality just enough for him to be laser-focused on the end goal and not on what he’ll have to do this time to get there.

The ends don’t always justify the means, and Windu knows that, but sometimes… sometimes, it’s hard to find a better, lighter path when the Order is gone and the Sith are in control.

“He’s here for Maul,” he adds, “for the criminal network he’s built.” It all makes perfect sense now. “He’ll unite them for his master.”

Vos’ brow furrows. “I’m not sure–” he starts.

“He killed the Jedi, Quinlan,” Windu interrupts desperately. “You didn’t see–”

The Kiffar looks away. “I wasn’t strong enough to kill him.”

Windu throws back another shot and then stands. “Leave that to me. Just aim Maul’s forces at him. I can handle him.”

He leaves without looking back and without waiting for an answer. He is the only one who can destroy the so-called Chosen One. Chosen. Ha. What a joke. Chosen indeed. Perhaps chosen to destroy the Jedi Order and bring the galaxy to ruin. Chosen by the Sith to be the ultimate answer to the Jedi and to the Light.

Anakin Skywalker is many things – hero, warrior, most powerful Force user, killer – but he is not the Chosen One.

He was not born to bring balance to the Force and destroy the Sith. Perhaps the prophecy was misinterpreted. Perhaps – perhaps… it is actually him? Windu’s sole purpose from the moment Sidious revealed himself has been to destroy the Sith. The destruction of the Sith will mean balance has been restored to the Force. Maybe the title of Chosen One is one to be claimed and earned, not given.

Unlike Qui-Gon, Windu has never believed that Skywalker is the Chosen One. Perhaps his mother lied about the circumstances of his birth. He might be powerful, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous. When he first came to the Council as a child, Windu had looked at him and seen… darkness. The enormity of it shook him, and he’d wondered – for a moment – if it might not be better for everyone if he died then before he grew into his powers and unleashed darkness on everyone.

And here they are, years later, Windu’s fears fully realized.

But Skywalker is not the only one with power. If the hallmark of the Chosen One is an individual with power… Windu has obtained power of his own. The things he has learned from the holocron he took from the Temple have changed his ability to use the Force in ways he could never have dreamed of. What he can do now can change things. It can make a difference. It might be enough to tip the scales and destroy the Sith once and for all.

This is only the beginning.

Windu has only begun to explore the forbidden abilities that the Council – wisely – hid. Perhaps this is what it means to be the Chosen One. He knows that the Council of old would have cast him out for trying to learn such abilities, but here and now, with the Dark destroying the galaxy, he thinks they would understand.

This is their future.

They have no other choice.  

He has no other choice.

Windu climbs up onto the roofs of Daiyu, helmet under his arm as he stalks through the shadows. The hunt is beginning.

***

Daiyu looks like any other city when they land, but the Force is… strangely tense, warning Anakin of coming danger and urging him to be cautious. He hopes that feeling of foreboding is merely because of how Dark everything is here. Daiyu City is a crime world, and such places are always saturated with Darkness. The Underworld on Coruscant felt the same when he was there.

Anakin knows he cannot underestimate what they might be walking into, but the mission seems relatively simple in theory. All he has to do is sneak covertly from the spaceport to the location from which the transmission came. Even if Maul isn’t here himself, it is likely that Anakin will find people who work for him and even if they won’t share any useful information with him, he may still be able to gain access to the communication network which should allow him to track the origin of the transmission to Tatooine.

Reva shadows him when they disembark from the shuttle. He can’t risk leaving her behind, not when he has no idea what he’ll face on the planet. His nano-armor covers his body, and Reva’s hooded cloak will do well to conceal her from prying eyes. To the rest of the city around them, they should merely look like bounty hunters – or perhaps mercenaries. He knows there is a chance that Maul’s men know he is coming, but he hopes that he can take them off-guard.

All of this is happening for a reason. Maul did this for a reason, and Anakin needs to find out why.

It’s unlikely they’ll have anticipated Reva, so perhaps they will not realize he’s there until he’s right on top of them.

“Stay close,” Anakin reminds Reva again as they start walking through the spaceport.

The city is bustling with activity which is perfect for remaining unnoticed especially since it’s almost nighttime. They walk through the streets, and Anakin pauses once to check the coordinates he obtained. They still have a way to go when the Force prickles at the edge of his senses. Something happened, and as he glances around, he can see smoke rising in the distance. Instincts honed through years of war tell him to look closer, so he does.

He can sense the agitation and fear of the nearby people, and he drifts closer to an alleyway as he tries to listen in. People are talking, voices high with alarm.

“What’s wrong?” Reva whispers, tugging his hand. “What happened? They’re upset. It feels– it feels like–”

“The Dark Side,” Anakin finishes grimly. “Death.”

She curls in on herself. “Yeah. Dad, what happened here?”

The sensation of death is one Anakin is well acquainted with from the war. Reva would only have felt it once – during Order 66. It’s no surprise that she seems anxious about it.

He unhooks a holonet accessible datapad from his belt, tapping into a nearby communication tower to see if he can determine what’s happened without having to ask someone. It takes a moment for the device to process the input from how chaotic everything is.

Grimly, he looks up. “Someone attacked the Imperial outpost,” he tells Reva, “and stormtroopers have turned up dead all over the city. The Empire has been contacted for reinforcements.”

She sucks in a breath, wide eyes looking up at him. “Who would do that?”

“Imperial comm chatter – what’s left of it, that is – says that it was… ‘the Predator’.” His brow furrows as he takes in the odd title. “It is… odd,” he admits. “No Empire-aligned Force user would do this, and I cannot imagine any Jedi would have fallen to such depths.”

Reva bites her lower lip. “Maul?” she guesses tentatively.

Anakin glances around, taking her hand as he leads her further into the alley. It’ll be best to take a roundabout route to their destination. Perhaps this commotion will provide enough cover for them to get in and out before the Empire arrives. “I don’t know what Maul’s goals are,” he answers, “but I don’t think he would do this. He would have no reason to.” And Vos was just on Tatooine, so either Maul is working with many Jedi, or he’s not involved with this.

“Then who?” she queries.

“A Fallen Jedi,” Anakin realizes.

“Maybe we should find them,” she suggests. “They can help us.”

A smile flickers across his face for a moment. It’s something he would have said as a child, or perhaps even Ahsoka when she was still young. The desire to help people is something Reva shares with him. Despite everything she’s endured, she is still a Jedi at heart.

“Maybe later,” Anakin replies. “We need to find Maul first before the Empire gets here.”

They keep moving, and he cannot shake the feeling that there is someone watching them. A prickly, elusive presence that he cannot quite pinpoint, but which is unmistakably there. Mostly, he just senses a feeling of wrongness that never fades no matter how many twists and turns he takes in a bid to shake their pursuer.

“Keep your eyes open,” he murmurs to Reva.

“I feel it, too,” she whispers back. She twists, looking over her shoulder. “Don’t see anyone. Maybe it’s the Jedi?”

Anakin shakes his head. “I can feel the malicious intent. It is no ally.”

She shivers, and he can feel her fear, but she bravely keeps it tucked away as she tries to focus on their mission instead of her own anxieties. Though she’s only a little over twelve, life on Tatooine has taught her that she cannot dwell on her fear. It’s something the Jedi told her, and something she learned personally after Order 66. From him, from Aayla, from Owen and Beru. All of them have made her into the person she’s become, and Anakin cannot say how proud he is of her.

“Get ‘em!” calls someone only moments before the Force flares with danger. Anakin ducks instinctively as a blast flies over his head, hitting the wall and burning a hole through it. Somewhere inside, someone screams.

Kriff. Kyber weapons. He should have guessed.

“Use your blaster,” he orders Reva as he draws his lightsaber, stalking forward to meet the three attackers. He won’t let her out herself unless there’s no other choice.

She fires from behind him, stun bolts only, as the three men open fire on them. Anakin deflects the blasts aside, though it takes more focus and strength than it would for a normal blaster bolt. He shudders to think what the droid army would have been like if they’d had weapons like this. Even he, for all his strength, could not have fought through platoons of droids with such blasters.

His red blade glows brightly in the relative darkness, and he lifts his hand, using the Force to throw the three backward into a wall. One of them is activating his comm, trying to contact someone. Anakin rips it away from him and crushes it beneath his boot. As they’re getting back up, Reva takes down the first one with two stun bolts. The second swiftly follows. Anakin drops the third with a lightsaber to the gut.

They pause for a moment, looking around, before Reva scurries back to his side. She’s panting, almost trembling from the adrenaline coursing through her. “Maul?” she asks shakily.

Anakin kicks at one of the blasters with his boot. “Maul,” he affirms. “We are on the right track, but he knows we are coming. We have lost the element of surprise.”

“What do we–”

The thud of boots landing on the pavement interrupts her, and they spin to see a helmeted figure activating a blue lightsaber.

Reva gasps. “The Jedi,” she blurts out.

“We meet at last,” the figure intones, and the helmet distorts the voice. Anakin could swear he’s met the man – it is a man, isn’t it? – before, but the presence is distorted and illusive. He can feel someone is there, though he cannot feel anything more specific. It’s unnerving. Never before has he experienced anything like this.

“We are not enemies,” Anakin says, stepping forward and holding up his hands.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Vos did lie. Maybe – maybe this isn’t even Maul’s operation at all. Or maybe, Maul is gathering for himself an army of Fallen Jedi.

Anakin doesn’t know what’s more terrifying.

“I have been looking for you, Skywalker.” It’s almost a snarl, and as he lifts his blue blade, Anakin can see the skeletal grin of the helmet. The Predator. The name comes to him unbidden, and he knows with certainty that that’s who this is.

“Run,” he orders Reva, tone leaving no room for her to argue. He positions himself between her and the Predator. Whoever he is, he must have known Anakin was coming. This whole thing… it was a trap. For him. Set by Vos, and perhaps set by Maul, too, and Anakin didn’t look clearly enough. He walked right into it.

“And you have an apprentice,” the Predator comments idly.

Anakin will die before letting anyone touch his daughter. “I’m here,” he says. “Come and get me.”

He hasn’t even finished speaking before the other Jedi is lunging at him. Their blades meet in the middle of the alley, blue against red, and Anakin gets the foreboding feeling that this battle will not be one he walks away from unscathed.

***

It’s been over a week since Obi-Wan came to Daiyu. He’d thought it would be easy to locate Maul, but so far, the Sith Lord has been elusive. If he’s here, he’s hiding well enough that even Obi-Wan cannot track him down. Though perhaps this is an exercise in vain, Obi-Wan has more he wants to accomplish here. Being unable to find Maul would be unfortunate, but if he can at least locate Maul’s network here, he’ll consider it a win.

A few months ago, he picked up a blaster fueled by a kyber crystal. Knowing that such a weapon exists unsettled him, and he’s tracked it to Maul. If nothing else, he would like to know how many of these weapons are out there. It’s a desecration of the Jedi who died to take their kybers and turn them into such uncivilized weaponry.

He’s on his way to meet a contact, trying to ignore the unease in the city as the Empire takes a hit from an unknown assailant, when he picks up the sound of… lightsabers? He can feel the turmoil in the Force, nudging him to follow it, and he deviates from his path to make his way into the alleys.

He stills, frozen as he watches the two figures dueling viciously. One is wielding a red blade – undoubtedly an Inquisitor – while the other has a blue blade. A Jedi, then. Except then, the Inquisitor shoves the other backward, and when he stumbles, his blade casts light on the helmet he’s wearing.

Obi-Wan freezes.

No, not just a Jedi. It’s the Predator himself, the one that he’s been searching for, the one who came to Alderaan and killed an Imperial there, the one who fought Obi-Wan and then abruptly left. Obi-Wan doesn’t know what the Jedi could have wanted or why he was fighting him, but he will not let any of his fellow Jedi fall at the hands of an Inquisitor.

He winces with sympathy when the Predator is kicked in the chest and draws his lightsaber. On one hand, he could walk away, but on the other hand, the Force tells him to stay.

Obi-Wan ignites the blade and steps forward.

Chapter Text

Anakin knows he’s met his match with the Predator. The Jedi counters his every move with a skill and ease that makes Anakin uneasy. Between the two of them, though, Anakin is still stronger. The Force is with him in a way that it is not with any other Force-user. The Force created him, and because of that, Anakin feels it in a way no other individual ever can or will.

In the time since the Empire rose, Anakin has only grown stronger. He has learned more of the Force. He has learned how to go above and beyond what the Jedi taught him. He has no limits, and he believes that he can do anything with time and training. He was untrained in the art of Force healing, yet he still saved Reva in the Temple. If he can do that, what else is he capable of? Once that might have filled him with fear, but now, it only fills him with certainty. The Force will guide him. It always has.

And then another Jedi joins them. He, too, is wielding a blue lightsaber, and it takes Anakin but a moment to realize that he is also skilled. He cannot face two powerful Jedi without having to resort to more extreme methods. He promised Aayla that he wouldn’t kill Vos. He doesn’t want to kill any Jedi if he doesn’t have to. Whyever these two are after him, they must hold him accountable for… something, unless they have sided with the Empire. They know who he is, but he doesn’t know why they want him dead.

Why have they been looking for him?

He tries not to dwell on it, searching for an escape as he fends off the two blue blades. It’s instinct and the Force that keep him from being hit by their lightsabers. He flips backward, gathering the Force to him as he hurls them backward, darting down a side street, losing himself in the back alleys of Daiyu. The one advantage that he has is that Daiyu is a very populated area. It’s a criminal underworld, and that means many shady individuals are here. No one will look at him twice, and hopefully, that means the Jedi hunting him will be unable to locate him.

He needs to find Reva, but if she followed orders like he told her to, she should be long gone, hidden away until he can locate her. She is his biggest weakness, and he cannot get involved in an extended fight without taking the risk that Reva will get involved, too. She’s well-trained, no doubt about it, but she is also only a child who has no way of holding her own against a skilled Jedi. Or Jedi assassin? Anakin doesn’t know. He has no idea what the galaxy looks like now. It’s been a long time since the rise of the Empire.

What’s happened to all the Jedi who survived? Where have they gone? How have they been? He doesn’t know, and he’s beginning to think he doesn’t want to know, either.

He pauses, back pressed against a wall as he listens. It’s quiet. No sound of footsteps following. Perhaps he really did manage to lose the two Jedi. It seems too good to be true, but perhaps luck is on his side today.

He lets out a breath, reaching out to his bond with Reva as he tries to locate her. She must be close. He told her to run, but he knows she wouldn’t have gone far. She’d have found a safe place to lay low – or high if she’s on a roof – where she’ll wait for him to come for her.

The Force twinges abruptly, a feeling of wrongness crawling down his spine. It feels like something is twisting the Force backward, and a shiver ripples over his skin. He is not unaffected by the odd sensation. The need to flee rises, but he forces himself to stay still. To access. Running blindly is more likely to get him killed than not.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something flicker into view, and he turns his head. His helmet isn’t picking anything up – just an odd energy reading – but he can still see it as what looks like a doorway opens out of thin air. It’s ringed by what looks like purple lightning. It doesn’t make sense. What is this?

It feels so… wrong, and he could swear he hears the distant echo of feminine laughter. It strikes a chord in his chest, as though he ought to know the source but doesn’t. The oddness vaporizes, morphing into shocked alarm as the Predator steps through. Somewhere else one moment and here the next. Never before has Anakin seen anything like this. What does it mean? How could anyone have gained such a power?

Abruptly, he remembers what Sidious told him at the opera, about how the Dark Side is a pathway to abilities that some would consider to be unnatural. So, is this what the Dark can do? Anakin knows the Dark. He has felt it in all its raw power. He has lived in it, fallen to its depths and clawed his way back out, unwilling to surrender and be remade in its image. This is not the Dark Side. This is something else. Something unnatural.

Even the Dark shies away, a vicious, bloodthirsty hound drawing back and quivering instinctively in the face of a new threat. The Light flutters, a frightened bird at his shoulder, and Anakin knows that whatever this is, it is not of the Force.

It reminds him of the eerie unnaturalness of Dathomir, of the Nightsisters and their magicks.

He has only a moment to consider it, a second longer to draw his lightsaber as the Predator stalks toward him. He doesn’t lunge like Anakin had expected. He closes in as though he is the predator, Anakin is the prey, and the outcome of this duel is already set in stone.

The blue blade ignites, and Anakin reaches out with the Force, already searching for the second Jedi, but he doesn’t sense him. It’s just them, the Shadow and the Predator.

“And to think, all this time, I was right,” the Predator snarls as their blades clash. The duel is violent from the start, words punctuated by vicious blows that would undoubtedly overwhelm a lesser man. Anakin doesn’t know that even Obi-Wan could stand in the face of this assault and come out unscathed.

“I was right about you this entire time.” The words are distorted, almost metallic in sound, but Anakin can hear the sneer. “Anakin Skywalker. Sith Lord. I should have killed you the day I met you.”

Who could this be? Anakin has met many Jedi, and there were many who disliked him for one reason or another. He tried, he did his best, but he was never truly one of them. Even during the war, he was a hero to them, but he was not one of them. He was good at what he did, but somehow, it was never enough.

“Who are you?” Anakin demands, but the question goes unanswered, almost as though it is unheard. And perhaps it isn’t. The helmet the Predator is wearing is… odd, and perhaps it is that, that is giving him his unnatural power.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter if he can’t get answers from the Predator about who he is or what he wants – other than Anakin’s death for some unfathomable reason. Is it because he is a Sith? Because he could be a Sith? Because he has dabbled with the Dark and will not let it go? Is that truly the reason? Has this Jedi gone mad from the loss of the Order? From his inability to let go like a Jedi should? To realize that the Order and Republic are a thing of the past?

Anakin gives ground, backing down the alley and searching for a way out. There must be some way he can flee without the Predator being able to find him again.

He was led here to Daiyu deliberately. Vos’ plan, then? He, too, was convinced that Anakin had to die. Or is it Maul’s plan? He can’t tell, but he knows that Vos will have the answer. The Jedi Shadow must be here. If only Anakin can get away from the Predator, he might be able to locate Vos and pull answers out of him. He doesn’t want to hurt Vos – and well, maybe he does a little, but he promised Aayla not to kill him, so he won’t.

He Fell at the Temple to save the Jedi, and it makes him angry to see how little regard this Jedi has for that. He has only ever tried to help the Jedi. Why can they not see that? Why do they not realize that he has always done his best? He’s given them everything. Why do they not respect that???

The Dark rises, and the Predator throws him backward with the Force, slamming him against a wall. His blue lightsaber plunges into the wall only a foot from Anakin’s head, and he rolls aside, bringing up his red blade to fend off his attacker.

“Traitor,” taunts the Predator, and Anakin grits his teeth to wrangle the anger he feels under control. Is this the Jedi’s goal? To make him angry? To make him lose control?

“What right do you have to stand here with your victim’s weapon?” he accuses, and Anakin’s fingers tighten reflexively on the hilt of Dooku’s lightsaber. The kyber calls to him now the way his own does, and if he closes his eyes, he can feel Dooku’s presence with him as well in much the same way that he has always felt Qui-Gon’s.

He’s… right, though, isn’t he? Dooku was Anakin’s victim. It wasn’t a clean kill in battle. It was an execution. Guilt rises, and with it comes the fury he’s been trying to hard to hold back. The Dark breaks free and floods him, and he can swear he hears the Predator laugh mockingly.

He was good, but never good enough for the Jedi. He never wanted to see them fall. He never wanted to see them destroyed, to see them hurt. But now – now there is a part of him that wants to hurt this Jedi. A part of him wants to pin him down, rip off his helmet, and demand to know why he is doing this even if he has to torture the answers out of him.

Sith Lord.

If the Predator wants Darth Vader, then he can have him.

Vader lunges.

***

Skywalker’s control is impressive, Windu has to admit. His mastery over the Dark Side is to be commended, but every Sith has a breaking point. Their darkness cannot be contained forever. The Dark always demands more. It demands everything. It demands to be freed, and it was laughably easy to hammer at the younger man’s shields without him even realizing it. It took a careful application of power that Windu has learned from the relic, and then, he broke.

The Dark is flooding him, and if Windu could see his eyes, he knows they’d be the same sulfuric yellow as Sidious’ were.

Darth Vader.

The name suits him well, and Windu wonders how he never saw this coming. How did he not realize that this would be Skywalker’s future?

This has gone on long enough, and he will end this Sith disease here and now. He has the means and the power, and with Darth Vader a name of the past, he can finish what he started. He can destroy the Sith once and for all and bring balance to the Force. He can restore the Jedi Order. He can restore the Republic. He can rebuild everything that Sidious and Vader destroyed.

With the Sith gone, their acolytes will fall easily. They will be dealt with when they surface, but the galaxy will once more be safe.

Skywalker cannot be allowed to escape the planet, and certainly not with the youngling he has taken. It angers Windu to see an innocent child – so young – following the Sith. Skywalker is corrupting her, and she must be saved from him. From him and from Sidious both. Perhaps it is not too late to guide her along the correct path.

So many Jedi are prone to the Darkness now. Torn from the only home they had and cast out into the galaxy, it is as likely as not that they will succumb without anyone to support them. Windu has seen many who are walking the line, and others who have lost themselves entirely. But they stand against the Empire, and that matters most. They can be saved if only they have a home to which they can return.

Skywalker is a skilled duelist. Windu has always known that, but he thinks that perhaps he did not count on how good he would be when the Dark is fueling him. It is only because his right hand is a prosthetic that Windu is able to absorb the blows that are raining down on him. The red blade would have felt less like a mockery if it had been Skywalker’s lightsaber, but it isn’t. It’s Dooku’s.

Dooku, who had been Windu’s friend long before he left the Order. Dooku, who’s padawan had been so rogue and given the Council such a hard time, but who’s council Windu valued deeply. Dooku, who then turned on the Jedi, joined the Sith, and started a war that ripped the galaxy apart. Dooku, who was Skywalker’s first victim, and perhaps the one that cemented his place at Sidious’ side.

After a Jedi dies, their lightsaber was put in the Archives. It was laid to rest there forever. The kyber is an extension of the Jedi’s soul, and a lightsaber is a personal item. To use another Jedi’s lightsaber speaks of a deep connection between the two.

But instead of surrendering the weapon that would have spoken of his treachery, Skywalker kept it as a trophy of his first kill as a Sith. He didn’t care that he was desecrating Dooku’s soul. He didn’t care that he was breaking hundreds of years of Jedi tradition. He kept it because he was a Sith, and why would a Sith care what the Jedi hold dear?

Had Skywalker never come to the Order, this would never have happened. It’s clear to him now. Skywalker’s arrival meant that the Jedi and Republic were doomed. Sidious started it, but Skywalker finished it.

The Sith would never have won without him, and unless he can be defeated, the Sith will continue to terrorize the galaxy.

Now that he’s tapped into the Dark, Windu can turn his own power against him… and destroy him once and for all.

***

The fight didn’t last long before the Inquisitor fled, and the other Jedi disappeared into thin air. Not literally, obviously, but he might as well have from how he vanished the moment Obi-Wan looked away. He’s been trying to track them ever since. He has no doubt that the Inquisitor will be back, and it’s best to press the advantage while they have it. If there are other Inquisitors on the planet, the last thing Obi-Wan needs is for them to team up and come back in greater numbers.

He climbs onto the roofs. It’s easy to move virtually undetected, and it’ll make it easier for him to spot his opponent – or any incoming Imperial forces for that matter.

The Force guides him, too, or maybe it’s the surge of the Dark Side that he senses which gives away their location. He leaps from roof to roof, settling down on the edge as he peers into the streets below. The two are fighting again, red against blue, a blur of movement as they draw on the Force to move faster than any normal human could manage.

Obi-Wan can see others as well. Armed guards of some sort, or perhaps mercenaries. All of them have the same mark on their shoulders, and they’re carrying an unusual type of blaster. Or no – it’s not a blaster. It’s – they’re carrying kyber weapons.

Maul’s men, then?

Obi-Wan wants to jump into the fray to protect his fellow Jedi – even if it’s a Jedi who has lost his way – but he waits, trying to assess. He always taught Anakin to pay attention to his surroundings. Rushing into things is more likely to end badly than not.

And then the mercenaries – or soldiers, or whatever they are – open fire on the two. They don’t seem to care who they hit, which confirms to Obi-Wan that the Predator is at least not Maul’s ally. Good. He would not look kindly on any Jedi who allied with Maul.

The Predator seems unconcerned, deflects any blasts that come close to him away into the walls. It burns holes and scorches through metal, and Obi-Wan begins to realize just what these weapons are capable of. They are perhaps not as strong as a lightsaber would be, but their power is similar, and that means they can do a lot of damage.

The Inquisitor doesn’t seem to be fairing any better, and he stumbles, using the Force to catch the Jedi’s sabor while he deflects a shot back at one of the soldiers, killing him.

There’s a cry, a child’s cry, and a small figure flies from the shadows, a blaster clenched tightly in her hands. She fires at them point blank, taking down one with a stun bolt before the weapons turn toward her. Obi-Wan is leaping down into the street to protect her even before it fully dawns on him why this child is so familiar.

No.

No. It can’t be –

But it is.

It’s Reva. Reva. And that means… that means either the Inquisitor is Anakin, or the Predator is Anakin. Is he an Inquisitor? Now that Obi-Wan is thinking about it, he’s not so sure. The style is familiar, and so is the Force presence. It’s heavily shielded, so much so that Obi-Wan didn’t recognize him on sight, but now, he feels almost foolish.

After all, what Inquisitor walks alone without a single Imperial stormtrooper at their heels?

It should have been obvious, and that is perhaps why he didn’t realize.

Anakin. That’s Anakin. Anakin with a red lightsaber. It’s probably meant as a disguise so that anyone who encounters him won’t immediately realize he’s Jedi. The armor and lightsaber are most likely to leave people with the assumption that he’s an Inquisitor, so they won’t mess with him. On one hand, it’s brilliant. On the other hand, Obi-Wan is a little bit upset that he ended up fighting Anakin and assuming he’s only a mere Inquisitor. Had Anakin not disengaged, Obi-Wan could have hurt him, and that is unacceptable.

His lightsaber is out before he hits the ground, and he dispatches the startled mercenaries with several precise stabs. Reva is staring at him with wide-eyed relief when he turns around. She gasps when she sees his face.

“M-master Kenobi?!” In an instant, she’s at his side. “What’s going on?” she asks, casting a worried look in the direction where Anakin and the Predator went. Obi-Wan can still hear the clashing lightsabers and the commotion as others see what’s happening and spread the word. It’s only a matter of time before the Empire comes to investigate.

“Why is there a Jedi after us?” Her tone is almost pleading. She’s scared, but she’s trying hard to hide it.

Obi-Wan follows her glance. “I don’t know,” he answers grimly, “but I intend to find out.”

He senses the approach of more of Maul’s forces – or at least he assumes they’re with Maul as opposed to the Predator. “But we have incoming. Stay close to me.”

“I can handle myself,” she promises fiercely, lifting her blaster as Obi-Wan raises his lightsaber.

He can only hope that’s true, for her sake, or she might end up being injured, and that isn’t something he is prepared to face. An injured child will be harder to protect, and he is not ready to see how angry Anakin will undoubtedly be. Already, he is so Dark. Obi-Wan can feel it filling the Force, and if Reva should come to harm… well, that isn’t something Obi-Wan can allow.

He will keep her safe.

Chapter Text

The Dark Side is flooding him with his power, giving him a sense of security and assurance that Anakin- Vader is almost tempted to believe. He knows the Dark can lie. He knows it has lied, but he is not certain if it’s lying to him now or not. It is, he thinks, because the Dark tells him that he will win, that his victory is inevitable, that there is nothing this Jedi can throw at him which will make a difference.

He will win, and the Jedi will die –

But no, he doesn’t want to kill him, does he? Yes, the Dark hisses. Kill him. The Dark demands blood and death and destruction, and it takes all of Vader’s willpower not to succumb to the lure of it. It would be so easy, he thinks, to kill this Jedi here and now, no matter what he promised Aayla. She’d believe whatever he told her. She’s not here to know the truth, and if he said that he had no choice, that it was self-defense and he was protecting Reva, she’d accept it. She might be upset, but she’d accept it. She would never think ill of him.

The Predator keeps hammering at his defenses, hard, fierce blows that force Vader to occasionally give ground as he tries to counter him. It would be easier if he didn’t keep shifting his form. Every time that Vader thinks he’s found a weakness, his form changes to something else. It’s throwing him off-guard. Even dueling Dooku was not so hard. The Count was skilled with his lightsaber, but he never shifted forms so rapidly.

He is beginning to fear that this opponent is stronger than Dooku. He’s stronger than Vos, too, and perhaps even stronger than Sidious. The Sith Master was the one with whom Vader struggled the most, and to face someone even more powerful is… terrifying.

Though he tries to wrestle down his fear, it’s still there, still persistent, and it only fuels the Dark Side further, making his control slip inch by inch as he struggles not to overestimate his own abilities. The Dark would have him believe that he is just as capable as he was during his fight with Sidious, but reality says otherwise. He has not fought another in a long time, and his skills are not what they once were. Sparring with Aayla has only helped so much.

Does this Jedi hate him because he’s Fallen? Because of what he did at the Temple? Because he Fell and killed so many there?

He supposes it is not surprising, and he blocks a particularly vicious blow, grunting as the Predator’s boot catches him in the lower abdomen, sending him stumbling backward. He pauses to take a breath, drawing on the Force and trying to ignore the ever-growing whispers of the Dark as he struggles to keep the other’s blade from hurting him.

Perhaps the Predator is not a Jedi at all. Perhaps it is Maul who wants him dead that badly. He has never faced Maul before, and his memories of him from Naboo are faint. Maul must have been powerful to defeat Qui-Gon. Perhaps this is him.

Or perhaps not.

Another explosion echoes down the street, but Vader doesn’t even spare it a glance. He’s as open to the Force as he can be without getting overwhelmed, and he’s acutely aware of the struggle that Reva is in. A fight for her life against those who are wielding kyber weapons. He can only trust in the Force, trust that her training was good enough, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared.

He’s terrified.

He’s not scared of death, not for himself, but he is so, so afraid that something will happen to Reva, that he’ll hold her body like he held his mother’s, like he held so many of his men throughout the war. He was never able to save them. He tried and tried, but it was never enough, not for everyone. He remembers the trust in their eyes as they looked at him in their dying moments, trust he was unworthy of, and he lets those memories fuel the Dark. The grief and rage and need to be better, because if he can’t safe the people he loves, then what use is all this power and all this pain?

The Jedi thought it was easy for him to be the Chosen One. They thought he could wield the power to destroy stars and planets without blinking. They never understood the sacrifices that came with it. The agony of feeling a hundred million lives, the grief of sensing thousands of them blink out every minute, the pain of knowing that he’ll never be able to help everyone because such a task is more than even he is capable of.

He was never meant to walk among people. His power is too much for even him, crushing him under its weight, but he never cut it out, never close himself off, because at the end of the day, his blood is of the Force. He can never stop feeling without cutting out his own heart, because for every second longer that he lives, he will feel the weight of the galaxy itself on his shoulders, and he will know that he can never escape from it.

He’s seen the deaths of so many and known that he couldn’t bring them back because for all his power and strength, the one thing he has never been able to do is restore life to the dead. That is something that even the Chosen One is incapable of. It’s a power that no mortal can touch, and sometimes, he can only rage against the unfairness of it, rage at the knowledge that can crush a whole Star Destroyer with the snap of his fingers but still be unable to breathe life back into the dead body in his arms. His is a power that he can only ever use for destruction and never for anything better.

And Reva is here, in the last place she should ever have come, and he doesn’t know if he will be able to bring her back home.

Vader startles a bit when the Predator uses the Force to hurl debris at him, batting it aside with the hungry tendrils of the Dark. They’re tearing apart the city, they and the kyber weapon-wielding mercenaries who keep trying to get a clear shot at him. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the Force onto them, using the power he has been granted to end their lives, and when their bodies, too, become objects to be thrown, he cuts through them. He will not stop. He cannot stop, because stopping means dying, and he has come too far to surrender to the Predator who means him harm.

Reva is counting on him, and for her, he will do anything.

The Predator is neither stopping nor slowing, and he, it seems, does not care who dies. Even uninvolved civilians are dying, but the Predator’s focus never once wavers. He does not care. He thinks that Vader’s death is worth all of this, and for that reason alone, Anakin will make sure he fails.

“What sort of coward are you?” Vader snarls. “Hiding behind a helmet. Unwilling to show your face.” He thinks his words end up being projected as much into the Force as they are spoken aloud.

A sound that might be a mocking laugh answers him as the Predator pauses, lifting his blade but not attacking. “And let you read my thoughts? No, no, no, I am not that foolish, Sith.”

The Predator lunges at him once more, and Vader meets him midway, unwilling to give up the fight when it could mean that the man’s focus turns toward Reva. Besides, he has no opening yet that he could use to escape.

Not yet.

He is still looking for one, and he will find it eventually, biding his time until the Predator is weaking enough to allow Vader to distract him and escape. The Dark demands he stay, but his fear for Reva is stronger. He must get her to safety.

The Predator stumbles over a chunk of duracrete that got blown out of a nearby building when a kyber blast hit it, and Vader seizes the chance. He doesn’t even hesitate, his lightsaber coming down in a blow that would have sliced through the Predator’s head –

Except when the blade makes contact with the metal of his helmet, instead of going through it, it flickers and dies.

Vader takes a few steps back, shock and self-preservation setting in as he tries to reignite the lightsaber. It flickers uselessly in his hand, and he can feel the mechanism trying and failing to work. Maybe it’ll come back in a minute – but that means he has to protect himself with the Force alone.

It’s easy, at least against the mercenaries who don’t stop coming. He can deflect their blasts with the Force, and when he feels the Predator approaching, he spins, hitting at the ignition button. This time, by some miracle, the red blade hisses to life once more. Vader is able to block the blow, and the strength behind it sends a shockwave reverberating up his arm.

“You destroyed the Jedi,” the Predator accuses, raining blow after blow down on him. “They died because of you! I will bring justice in their names.”

The words take Vader by surprise, only for anger to swiftly replace it. He might not have been strong enough to save everyone, but he did what he could. He always has, and the Predator’s refusal to acknowledge that fills him with fury. Rage turns to fear when he catches sight of Reva fighting side by side with a Jedi. It’s the one with the blue lightsaber who attacked him earlier.

Except then, the Jedi turns, and Vader feels a flash of shock when he recognizes who it is.

Obi-Wan.

It’s –

He doesn’t know if the feeling in his chest is shock or relief. Maybe it’s both.

Obi-Wan is here.

***

The streets are filled with smoke, flames licking at whatever materials can be burned, and Reva stops to steady herself, keeping her aim steady as she shoots to kill. She never wanted to hurt people, even though she knew it might one day be inevitable. Life on Tatooine has taught her that. Sometimes, violence is the only answer. That doesn’t mean she needs to enjoy it.

She doesn’t. She regrets every life she has to take, regrets all the needless destruction and death that is happening in this place. The kyber weapons can – and will – go through anything which means she and Master Kenobi have no cover that they can hide behind. They have to take a stand and fight, even if she doesn’t want to.

The buildings in that area that haven’t been destroyed by the kyber weapons have been damaged by the duel. It’s fast and violent, and it terrifies her every time she catches sight of the red and blue blades.

The Force tugs at her, yet another warning, and she sidesteps a blast, letting it fly overhead to burn another hole through the building at her back. She turns to shoot down someone trying to sneak up on them from the side. Not everyone attacking them has kyber weapons. More and more people are realizing that they’re Jedi – or at least that Master Kenobi is – and they want the bounty on him.

It terrifies her, because when will it end? When will they escape? For that matter, how will they escape???

She tries not to worry about it, risking a glance in the direction of the red and blue lightsabers far down the street. It’s in time to see her dad get Force shoved backward, but he doesn’t regain his footing like she expected. He stumbles, falling to the ground, and the Jedi swings his blue blade, preparing to deliver a killing blow. Instinct takes over, and she whips around entirely, lifting her blaster and firing straight at him.

He deflects the shot which gives her dad a moment to recover and scramble back. She can feel his growing exhaustion through their bond, but stronger than that is his determination and anger. Still, she’s scared, and if he needs help, then she can help him. She’s not a helpless youngling anymore, not like she was in the Temple.

Reva reaches for her lightsaber, igniting the golden blade and moving toward her dad’s attacker. She has to get there and help him, but she doesn’t even manage to cover half the distance before a powerful Force shove throws her aside. She hits the ground, nearly skinning her palms, and in a flash, Master Kenobi is next to her.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, helping her stand. She shakes her head, looking toward where her dad is. He’s on his feet, lunging toward the Jedi, and as she watches, she can see red electricity crackling around his hands.

“We need to run,” Master Kenobi says urgently, taking her arm and pulling her down the street. He stops to cut through the blaster of a mercenary who is trying to attack them, Force throwing the man aside.

Reva follows, feeling the growing danger in the Force and the violent cold of the Dark Side. It scares her. The chill radiates through their bond, too, leaving nowhere for her to run. She always thought her dad could handle anything and anyone. Until now. Now, he seems to be struggling, and she’s so, so afraid. What if something happens to him? What will she do then???

The Dark is so close. All she has to do is reach out and touch. It’s right there, whispering to her, murmuring promises, trying to convince her that if she gives into her fear and anger, she’ll be able to do anything. She could maybe even help her dad defeat the Jedi who is trying so hard to kill him. She doesn’t understand. The Jedi were good. Why would any Jedi ever do something like this?

So many people are being hurt and killed, but – but he doesn’t even care.

The Jedi’s responsibility is to defend life, never take it unless the circumstances necessitate it, and even then, they must only kill if there is truly no other choice. That’s what she was taught. She always believed that every Jedi would follow those same principles… except they don’t. They aren’t. She knows the galaxy is not nearly as simple as good people and bad people, but the Jedi were supposed to be good, and she doesn’t know how to make sense of what she’s seeing here. Everything is different than she thought it might be.

Maybe this is her fault. If she hadn’t snuck aboard the ship, her dad might have been able to do what he came to do without being spotted. But at the same time, if not for her, Master Kenobi would be overwhelmed. Maybe she was meant to be here.

When they escape – because it has to be a when – she can talk to her dad about this. He’ll explain it to her. He’ll help her understand how any Jedi could do something like this.

For now, she has to fight.

***

Anakin gets a tendril of lightning past the Predator’s defenses. It’s not much, but it shocks him – no pun intended – and that gives him the time he needs to slip away into the shadows. He pulls the Force around himself, trying to hide away in the turbulent currents on this planet. The chaos and death have saturated the atmosphere, and if he tries hard enough, perhaps he can fade away entirely, so the Predator won’t be able to track him.

He has to lead him away from this spot, away from Reva.

He knows she’ll come to his defense – and die trying. He cannot let that happen. Obi-Wan will protect her, and maybe once Anakin has lost the Predator, he can go back for her. He’s worn and injured, exhausted on so many levels, and he really wants to go back home. He wants to go back to Tatooine, back to Aayla, back to the family he has gotten. He wants to know that Reva is safe.

He runs.

If the Predator gives chase, Anakin doesn’t sense him. Maybe he’s finally lost him. Maybe –

There’s a sickening tug on his Force signature, and he feels the parasitic presence of the Predator looming ever closer. And then, suddenly, a portal-type thing like he saw earlier is appearing, and the Predator himself is stepping through. This is not good.

He changes direction, all but throwing himself behind the nearest building and running down the streets and alleys, trying to lose the Predator.

Only for him to follow. Not on foot like he expects, but through these… portals. Stepping through time and space. Anakin’s Force presence is his beacon, and there is no escape. For the first time, he feels true fear, and that fear fuels the Dark Side. He lets himself fall into it, because if he is going to die here, he will not make it easy. He cannot afford to make it easy.

I’m sorry, Reva.

He tries not to think about all the people he would like to see one more time. Aayla. Padme. Their child. Obi-Wan. Ahsoka. Rex and all his men in the 501st. Kitster. Owen and Beru. He has so many people he cares for. He doesn’t want to leave them behind.

But this may be the first battle that he cannot win, so he lets himself reach for the Force, falling back into the Dark to bolster his strength as he prepares to make a stand. The next time the Predator comes for him, Vader turns, lightsaber poised and ready. Their blades clash violently, and Vader wonders if it’s his imagination or if he can truly feel the weight of the Predator’s hatred bearing down on him.

They trade a rapid flurry of blows, and it’s the Force alone that keeps Vader from falling victim to the blue blade. His strength is running out, and he’s surviving solely because of the Force and raw desperation.

Except that isn’t enough against such a skilled opponent. It takes only the slightest misstep, and the Predator’s lightsaber slices cleanly through Dooku’s hilt. The pieces fall to the ground, useless, and Vader realizes for the first time that he should perhaps have come with a backup. At least if he had his Jedi lightsaber, he might stand a chance. With no lightsaber and only the Force… well, he is not helpless. He is not the most powerful Force user for nothing.

He reaches out, a silent plea for help, and the Dark answers. It snarls and snaps, as much at him as at the Predator, but he does not back down. He lets it’s power course through him, feels the burning pressure building, and just as the Predator comes toward him to try and deliver a killing blow, Vader lets loose.

Red lightning crackles from his fingertips, crawling up his arms as it explodes outward, though not once does it shock him. He is it’s master, and it will obey him. The Predator is quick to respond, lifting his blade as he tries to hold back the storm. Vader can feel more than see the way his arms are trembling from the strength it takes to stay steady, and he lets a surge of victory sweep through him. He throws more force behind the lightning, increasing the intensity, and nearly grinning when he feels the lightsaber finally slip from the Predator’s grasp.

But the electricity doesn’t consume him and end his life like Vader had hoped. Somehow, someway, he catches it, making a shield with the Force to absorb it. Vader pushes harder, but the Predator stands firm. It’s as though he is somehow… taking Vader’s Darkness and using it to strengthen himself. It’s something he noticed during their fight, brief moments when the Predator seemed to get a surge of energy, but his form changed so much that Vader was unable to pinpoint if he sensed correctly.

He did, and it’s only now that he realizes he might have made a grave mistake. The realization distracts his focus, and the storm wavers.

It’s the only opening that the Predator needs, and before Vader can realize what’s about to happen, his own storm is hurtling back toward him. Throwing up a shield is instinctive, but even that isn’t enough to fully deflect the crackling red energy. He ignores the sting of it, but his breath catches in his lungs when the Predator adds his own lightning to the mix.

Something about it is different somehow. Vader has never felt anything like the purple electricity now coming toward him. It doesn’t have the hungry power of the Dark like his own, or even the cruel desire to cause pain like Dooku’s. It’s something in and of itself, something that screams of chaos and wrongness, and when it hits his Force shield, it… shatters.

It shatters as though it’s nothing, batting aside the last remnants of Vader’s red lightning, and consumes him.

And then, all he knows is pain. Pain like nothing he’s ever before experienced.

Chapter Text

Reva rounds the final corner to where the fight is – was? – taking place in time to see how it ends. She sees her dad trying to deflect purple lightning from the Jedi. It feels wrong in the Force, making her skin crawl. And she sees as her dad’s Force shield fails and the electricity hits him. His body convulses, and he collapses to the ground.

She screams, and she screams even louder when the lightning somehow ignites his armor, purple flames that make her feel sick to the core spreading across him.

Something snaps inside of her, and she races toward him without thought to her own safety. If something happens to her dad, it won’t matter anyway.

“Reva!”

Master Kenobi is yelling her name, but she doesn’t stop, crashing to her knees next to the burning, prone figure. His Force presence is dim, as though he’s unconscious, and she reaches out with the Force, trying to make the flames stop. Someone is talking, or maybe more than one person, but she doesn’t look, doesn’t care. She has to save him. She has to, has to –

The Dark answers when she reaches out, and she knows that she’s not supposed to touch it. It’s dangerous. It goes against everything she’s ever been taught, and she knows that her dad uses it sometimes, but that’s different. He knows how to wield it while still being himself, but she can’t stop to think, can’t do anything other than surrender to the panic and terror and rage that are bubbling furiously in her chest as she reaches out with the Force, clamping her metaphysical hand down on the flames and squeezing.

The purple sputters, flickering wildly in protest, and Reva pushes harder. She throws her entire self into it, no matter that being so close to something that feels so unnatural makes her want to throw up. The flames die out, smoke rising from his armor. She doesn’t think it actually penetrated it, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hurt. The armor is metal, and when metal gets hot…

She shudders inwardly, distantly aware of the sound of clashing lightsabers. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is her dad, and she reaches out awkwardly, not sure where to put her hands, or if she should touch him at all.

A part of her just wants to start crying. She doesn’t know what to do. She wishes she wasn’t here alone. Maybe if her mom had come, too, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Dad?” Reva calls, voice trembling. “Dad!”

He doesn’t even stir, his presence just as dim as before. She pushes at him through the Force, silently calling to him, silently beseeching him to awaken so they can escape from this place before the Jedi – or whatever he is, since he can’t be a true Jedi – comes back or hurts Master Kenobi. Or does worse to him.

“Dad,” she presses, gingerly touching his shoulder and shaking him. “Dad, wake up.” His lightsaber is destroyed, and she can see the pieces lying not far away.

“Dad?”

She crawls across the ground, gathering the destroyed halves of the saber and tucking it away. He wouldn’t want to lose it.

“Dad, please wake up.” She shakes him harder, and this time, he stirs, a weak groan escaping from him. Tears sting her eyes, and she leans over him, trying to see if there’s something she can do to help. “Are you hurt?”

Stupid question. Of course, he is. She can feel the pain and exhaustion that he’s radiating.

She shakes him again, and the Force flickers only moments before he jolts back to semi-consciousness. Red electricity springs to his fingertips, and she’s so close, touching him, that a shock hits her. She yelps at the jolt, pain racing through her nerves as she scrambles back to a safer distance.

“What–” he croaks. “What’s… happening…”

His voice fades as he passes out again, and Reva struggles to push through the electrocution. He didn’t mean to hurt her, and it wasn’t that bad. The pain only lasted for a moment, even if her body is still tingling unpleasantly. She’s more concerned about her dad and the way the Force is nudging her warningly.

He’s injured. Badly. And he’s unconsciously using the Force to keep himself stable, but he’s at risk of overusing it, and that could be bad. Reva doesn’t know what it would mean if it happened, but at the Temple, they were always warned not to go too far or too deep lest they slip too far to come back. Something about a coma she thinks? One from which they won’t awaken unless they find their way back.

And she can’t – she can’t let that happen to him.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to quiet her fear the way she was taught and push aside her guilt for having used the Dark to extinguish the unnatural flames. Her dad saved her life at the Temple. He saved her from dying, and this is her chance to return the favor.

She rests her palms against the scorched metal of his armor, ignoring the uncomfortable heat radiating from it and reaching into the Force. She tries to find the Light amidst the cloud of death and destruction around them. It’s hard, but when she reaches inward, she finds it.

Reva takes a moment to acknowledge her terror. She has no idea what she’s doing. She could make him worse. She could hurt himself trying to save him, but she can’t – she can’t leave him. He needs help, and Master Kenobi is… well, she doesn’t know where he is, but he’s not here, so he can’t get the help that her dad needs.

It’ll have to be her.

She lets the Force flow through her, weak but steady, into his unconscious body. The Light tells her that he’s not in a good condition. He might be okay, eventually, but she’s not a medic like Kix. She doesn’t know if he’s in critical condition or if it’ll be fatal, and her fear is clouding her ability to properly guess from what she’s sensing.

All she knows for sure is that he’s unconsciously using the Force to keep his heartrate steady, so she guesses that must be most important. She directs the Light into him, trying to heal him. A wave of exhaustion washes through her, and she bites her tongue, attempting to remain conscious. She can’t stop until she knows he’ll be okay.

But this isn’t something she’s ever done before, and she’s at risk of overusing the Force, too. Weariness creeps up, and she blinks tiredly, gritting her teeth and refusing to give up. She can’t – can’t…

Darkness creeps up to claim her.

***

Obi-Wan watches with numb horror as Anakin goes down and Reva runs to his side without thought to her own safety. The mercenaries who were coming after them seem to have given up because he hasn’t seen any for a few minutes. That’s how he and Reva managed to track down Anakin… only to walk into this.

He turns toward the Predator, lifting his lightsaber and moving to intercept him before he can go after Reva. He doesn’t know who this Jedi is, much less what he wants with Anakin, but Obi-Wan intends to take no chances. Their blades clash, blue against blue, and it feels as though it’s an echo of what happened on Alderaan.

“You never told me what you wanted on Alderaan,” Obi-Wan says, though he doesn’t think the Predator can hear. “You were searching for Anakin, weren’t you.”

No answer. No response of any kind, and he can tell that the Predator isn’t planning to play games. The duel lasts only a few minutes before he can sense that the Jedi’s attention is going elsewhere, and suddenly, he flips back, holding out a hand and evading Obi-Wan’s follow-up strike.

Something heavy suddenly presses against Obi-Wan’s mind, and he lowers his weapon, trying to fight it off, trying to shrug away the unnatural weight bearing down on him. This is not the Dark. This is not a power that he knows. It’s nothing he has ever encountered once, and it scares him, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

It crashes through his mind, washing away all conscious thought. The last thing he registers is the feeling of his body hitting the ground before the world goes dark around him.

And then, he’s drifting, walking across a starlit path toward an unknown destination. He doesn’t know where he’s going or why it’s important, but he knows that he can’t stop.

“Obi-Wan,” calls a too-familiar voice, and his heart clenches in his chest.

Slowly, he turns to see a blue, translucent figure standing there. “Qui-Gon,” he says numbly. “How is this possible? Is this– is this really you?”

“I have learned many things,” Qui-Gon replies. “All things are possible with the Force. Master Yoda never had the chance to tell you what he learned from me. I taught him how to preserve his consciousness after death.”

Obi-Wan stares at him, speechless. “That’s not possible,” he argues.

“There are some who said that the prophecy of the Chosen One was not possible, either,” Qui-Gon replies dryly. His expression grows serious, almost grim. “You must wake up, Obi-Wan. Now.”

Wake up? Obi-Wan frowns, trying to remember. “What happened? Where am I?”

“You were in a fight. You lost,” answers the ghost of his former master. “It is not your time to die, but if you don’t get up, you, Anakin, and Reva will be found by the Empire. You don’t have much time.”

Anakin…

Right. He was trying to find Anakin, and then he tracked down a lead on Maul that took him to Daiyu. His breath catches in his lungs. Daiyu. Anakin and Reva. The Predator.

“The Predator,” he says aloud. “Who is he?”

Qui-Gon shakes his head. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you that.”

“But–”

“Listen to be carefully,” he interrupts. “There is something I must tell you before you leave.”

It’s the grimness in Qui-Gon’s voice that makes Obi-Wan listen to him immediately, the memories of what that tone meant when he was a padawan rising to silence any objections that he has. He’s not a child anymore, nor is he as young as he was when Qui-Gon was still alive, but he knows what that tone means, and he listens.

“Yes, Master?”

Qui-Gon glances away for a moment, something solemn in his eyes. “You are in a very pivotal moment in history, Padawan. What you do from here, will change everything.”

“How?” Obi-Wan asks before he can second-guess himself. The more he knows about what’s coming, the better.

“You are in the unique position to make peace between the Jedi and the Sith.”

The response is so wholly unexpected that Obi-Wan blinks in startled shock. “I– what?”

“I know it sounds impossible, but if you stay with Anakin, it will change your destiny forever,” Qui-Gon informs him, taking a few steps closer. Even if death, he is an imposing presence. “The only option is to find a way to bridge the gap between the Light and the Dark. Forget what you were taught by the Jedi. You need to be there to support Anakin. Help him, and he will help you. Together, you will be able to weather the coming storm. The Sith is not the only threat out there.” The grim certainty is somehow terrifying.

Obi-Wan has questions. So many questions, but he can feel the reality around him slipping away no matter how hard he tries to grasp it.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon calls, “wake up.”

He jolts back to consciousness with a gasp. The streets are quiet, but the Force is thrumming with the promise of danger. The Empire is coming. He remembers Qui-Gon’s warning and also his cryptic words. Make peace? With the Jedi and Sith? And a threat greater than the Sith? What does that mean? He has more questions than answers. Typical with Qui-Gon.

Sighing, he shakes his head, trying to put those thoughts aside for later when they’re safe and dispel the lingering fogginess from being rendered unconscious in such a strange manner. It wasn’t a sleep suggestion. It didn’t feel like the Force at all. It felt… unnatural. Like the Nightsiters’ magicks but somehow more.

He doesn’t like it.

He collects his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt and hurrying to where he last saw Anakin. He’s still there, Reva’s body slumped on his.

Obi-Wan is terrified, for a moment, that he was too late, but as he hurries closer, he can sense that they’re still breathing. Alive. Good.

He kneels, shaking Reva’s shoulder. She rouses with a groan.

“M-master Kenobi?” she mumbles, swaying a bit as she sits up. She looks worn out enough that he almost expects her to go back to sleep right then and there. “What’s going on?”

“The Empire is coming,” he tells her, infusing his words with as much urgency as possible. “You need to help me get Anakin out of here. Can you do that?”

She straightens, and her exhaustion is still visible, but he can see her setting it aside. “Tell me what to do.”

Obi-Wan checks over Anakin quickly. His armor is scorched, but he doesn’t sense any injuries that would mean moving him would be bad. Thankfully. Anakin doesn’t feel as though he’ll be awakening anytime soon, so Obi-Wan lifts his unconscious form, carrying him in much the same way that Anakin once carried him off the Invisible Hand so long ago.

Reva gets to her feet a bit ungracefully, but she’s quiet as she follows.

“I know someone,” Obi-Wan murmurs as they press their backs against the wall, checking for approaching stormtrooper patrols. “They can get us on a transport off-world even if the ports are shut down.”

Because he has no doubt that the ports will be shut down by the time they get there. That would be the obvious place to go, and undoubtedly the first place the Empire would search for them. Better to go to a less likely place, and somewhere the Imperials wouldn’t locate immediately.

“Will he be okay?” Reva asks. He can hear the quaver in her voice, though she tries to hide it.

He touches her shoulder, a fleeting gesture of comfort. “He’s had worse,” Obi-Wan replies, “and he’s always come back from it. He’ll be fine.”

Or so he hopes. He has never seen anyone like the Predator, nor has he encountered any power of that magnitude in the past. Whoever he is and whatever he’s become, he is something… different. Something that was strong enough to defeat Anakin. Perhaps the only reason he didn’t stay to finish the job was because the Empire was coming.

Or perhaps, Obi-Wan thinks darkly, it’s because he wants more than Anakin’s death. Perhaps he also wants Anakin to suffer.

But that, too, is a thought for later.

First, they need to escape. They can figure out everything else afterward.

***

The moment Kenobi hits the ground, Windu is turning to leave. He’s exhausted, worn all the way through with only a small amount of power left inside of him. He pulls his hood up to conceal himself and his helmet, making his way to the spaceport.

The Empire is coming. He can feel it. He knew it was inevitable, though he had not anticipated it would be so soon. Maybe it was that the duel with Skywalker took longer than he realized. His defenses are strong, no doubt about it, and Windu is loathe to leave him, but after what he did to the Jedi, the last thing he deserves is a clean death.  

There will always be another chance, he supposes, and it may only help him in the long run to have Skywalker run back to Sidious’ side and tell him what happened. Sidious will know it’s him; he undoubtedly heard the report from the other Fallen Jedi who escaped from him in the Underworld of Coruscant. Sidious will know that the Predator is coming for him. The masked vigilante. The bringer of justice. Sidious will know, and he’ll be afraid.

If he’s afraid, he will make mistakes, and any error in judgment will work to Windu’s advantage. It will work to the rebellion’s advantage.

He hasn’t made it to the spaceport before a group of criminal thugs attack him. He can feel them closing in. He can feel their malicious intent, but they’re nothing, mere insects, certainly nothing worthy of using a lightsaber. He calls on his lightning, and it lashes out, catching them all in its unforgiving currents and incinerating them. Stray currents catch a nearby building. He can feel the undying flames ignite.

It would be easy to put them out, but Sidious will see, and he will know.

It’s a sign. A reminder.

Windu flees, disappearing into the shadows and moving steadily toward the spaceport. Already, the Empire is here, patrolling the streets and spreading out to search. Perhaps they will find Kenobi. It doesn’t matter to him if they do. Kenobi could never be an ally. He is too loyal to Skywalker. He will justify anything that Skywalker does. He will always choose him. Their attachment to one another is dangerous.

The Empire does not, however, find him.

He stands in the shadows of the spaceport, searching for an escape route with the Force instead of his eyes.

And… there.

The ship reeks of Skywalker and his little sidekick. They won’t be needing it. Even if Skywalker survives, he’ll be in critical condition. Windu slips aboard, only removing his helmet when he’s safely in the cockpit. By the time the stormtroopers realize that someone snuck through, it’s too late. He’s already taking off. The Force will guide him past whatever Imperial forces are in orbit. No one else will escape, which is bad news for Kenobi.

Oh well.

He chose his side, and if he sides with the Darkness, then he, too, is the enemy and must be destroyed. Unfortunate, but he is not the first former Jedi that Windu has been forced to kill. He will not be the last, either.

He buries the regrets deep down and the betrayal even further.

One day, this will be over. One day, he will look back on this time and feel as though it was only a bad dream. One day, the Light will prevail and guide him to destroy the Sith and restore the Jedi, the Republic, and justice.

One day.

But that day is still in the undoubtedly far-off future, and Windu will have to wait.

That’s okay. He’s good at waiting.

Chapter Text

Anakin wakes up to pain throbbing through every inch of his body. His connection to the Force feels strained, aching like a fresh bruise, when he draws on it. He’s never suffered from overuse of the Force, but this is how it’s been described, so he can guess that’s the cause.

Memories filter back in rapidly, and he swallows back a groan as he forces himself upright. The room spins wildly around him, and behind it, he can feel the blur of what must be hyperspace. Almost no life is nearby, and that means he must be safe. He doesn’t know how he got here, but as he reaches out, he can sense Obi-Wan and Reva, and relief sweeps through him.

He tries to retract his nanosuit, but it only sparks, so he reaches up to pry off his helmet. He’ll have to repair it whenever they return to Tatooine. The mechanisms are badly damaged from his fight with the Predator.

The Predator.

Only now does Anakin fully understand and appreciate the moniker. Whoever is behind that helmet, the name suits him. Anakin is not ready to encounter him again anytime soon. The thought alone fills him with dread. He cannot forget the way that the Predator tracked him with ease through the streets of Daiyu, tugging at his presence, and it makes him afraid to close his eyes lest it happen again. He’s never seen or heard of such a power before, and if the Predator can do that, what else can he do?

Is Anakin safe from him anywhere?

It’s not a question he wants to dwell on, and he draws on the Force a little more to keep himself upright and conscious. It’ll take him time to recover from the fight, time in which to figure out his next moves, but that’s something he’ll get to once he finds out where they are and once he’s returned home.

Strange, that Tatooine has become home to him. Stranger still, that he feels comfortable there in a way that he never has in the past. When he returns, he’ll undoubtedly need to go into a bacta tank for a while. He’s injured, and it could be worse. He suspects the only reason it isn’t is that he can vaguely sense Reva’s presence, as though she was trying to heal him. Fondness rises and then worry comes with it. Granted, his memory of what happened after the Predator’s lightning consumed him is blurred, but he thinks he might have hurt Reva.

Another thing he’ll have to check on her about.

He tries to stand, but he doesn’t get far before his legs give out from under him, dropping him back to the floor with a strangled gasp. No standing then. His body is too drained to agree with any movement now that the worst of the danger is passed.

Footsteps draw his attention, and he looks up to see Reva approaching, Obi-Wan following her. The girl lets out a cry of relief when she sees him sitting there, running the last few feet and dropping to her knees next to him. “Dad, you’re awake! We were worried.”

“I’m okay,” Anakin promises her instinctively and then winces at her disbelieving expression. “I will be,” he amends. “I’ve been hurt before.”

She studies him, not quite accepting it, and his chest tightens with regret. Reva should never have been dragged into the middle, and if not for Obi-Wan, she might have died. But then, if not for both of them, he might have died. It’s not something he wants to examine too closely, so instead, he reaches out, hand on her shoulder as he pulls her a little closer.

“Thank you for protecting her,” he says, eyes flickering to Obi-Wan, and the knot of emotion tightens further. He feels so much on seeing his former master again, more than he knows how to express aloud – or at all. They’ve been apart for so long, and now that Obi-Wan is really, truly here, Anakin suddenly doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to speak to him, and he’d feel worse about it than he does if not for the fact that he can see Obi-Wan feels the same way.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan answers, nodding, taking a few steps toward them and crouching down so they’re at eye-level. “I would not allow a child to come to harm.”

“Are you alright?” Anakin questions, turning his focus to Reva.

“Yes,” she replies, “Master Kenobi protected me.” She fumbles in her pocket before pulling out the severed pieces of Dooku’s lightsaber. “Here, I picked this up for you.”

Anakin takes them, feeling the kyber’s mournful song, the way it tugs at him. It’s grown used to him, and it seeks him out now that Dooku is gone. Or perhaps, it is somehow able to sense that Dooku passed it on to Anakin and has therefore moved on as well. When he returns home, he’ll repair it. Or rather, he’ll try to, at least. Perhaps it might be best to redesign a lightsaber, different from the ones he’s had in the past, one that contains both kybers. That way, he can switch the color if needed. It will be useful if he intends to continue to fill the role of the Shadow away from Tatooine.

With the Predator on his trail, being able to assume a different persona entirely might be beneficial, though he has no doubt that the Predator will find him even if as Anakin. For whatever reason, the Predator believes that Anakin is responsible for the destruction of the Jedi Order and only now does he wonder if the Predator thinks that Anakin helped with it.

“Thank you,” he tells his daughter, laying a hand on her arm.

Her smile is a little shaky, but it’s still genuine, and it relieves him to see it.

“Did I hurt you?” he inquires hesitantly. “I think– I think I remember shocking you.”

“You didn’t mean to,” she replies instantly. “You would never hurt me. You weren’t coherent.”

Anakin doesn’t know that he’s able to let it go so easily, but at least she’s not upset about it. That matters more.

He lets out another breath, and then looks back at Obi-Wan, who is watching. “C’mere, old man,” he mutters, smirking tiredly at Obi-Wan’s almost offended huff, but his former master still comes to his other side. Anakin doesn’t hesitate to tug him closer, pulling him into a hug and burying his face against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He’s missed him. So much. It’s been a long time since he’s had the comforting warmth of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder, since he’s heard his voice, since he’s felt his Force presence brushing up against his own.

“I missed you,” Anakin says softly, relaxing further when Obi-Wan hugs him back.

“I did as well,” Obi-Wan admits, a rare show of emotion. “I’ve been searching for you, but you’re hard to find.”

Anakin laughs, pulling back to look at Obi-Wan’s face. He seems a little older, his hair a little grayer than when Anakin last saw him, but he’s still Obi-Wan. “I’ve been on Tatooine,” he tells him, “though it’s not a well-known enough planet for you to have heard about the change in power, I imagine.”

Obi-Wan gapes at him. “Tatooine? You once swore that nothing in the galaxy could take you back.”

He makes a face at the reminder. “Yes. That was then. I needed to hide. Reva and I…” He trails off, glancing at the girl, who is sitting next to him, almost leaning against his side. “We laid low for a while, but eventually, I had to act. I killed Jabba and took control under the name of Jacen Starkiller. I freed the slaves,” he adds softly.

Obi-Wan huffs. “Of course, you did.” His voice is fond, and Anakin ducks his head, looking away. This is what he’s missed. He’s missed having a parent. “That led you to… exploring the Dark?” The question is hesitant, as though he’s unsure how it will be received.

“Yeah,” Anakin replies. He has nothing to hide. Though a part of him will always crave Obi-Wan’s approval, he also has learned how to forge his own path. After so much time in exile, he had no other choice, especially with Reva depending on him.

He straightens a bit, clearing his throat. “I had to learn,” he explains. “After I touched it at the Temple, I had no choice but to learn to control it or it would control me. I– I had help. You remember Aayla?” He continues when Obi-Wan nods. “She’s there. She survived, got picked up by slavers, and I rescued her when I killed Jabba. She’s been helping me.”

There’s a painfully long pause. “Do I need to worry about another little Skywalker running around?” Obi-Wan asks finally.

Anakin gapes at him, flushing when he realizes what Obi-Wan means. “No,” he says roughly. “Just– just the one. Padme–” And then he can’t say anymore, emotion rising to choke him as he looks away. Reva’s small hand slips into his and squeezes.

“I touched the Dark.” Her voice is small. “I was scared that he would– and I– I’m sorry, Dad.”

Reva gives him the perfect distraction from thoughts of Padme and their child, so he turns to her. “It’s okay,” he promises her. “Every Force user has brushes with the Dark Side. Mom and I will help you, okay. We’ll train you. I’ll train you so that you don’t lose control.”

“Okay,” she whispers with a small smile, though this one is less certain and less real.

“Mom?” Obi-Wan questions, bemused.

“Aayla,” Anakin elaborates. “She and I are just friends, but– but Reva needed stability. She’s our kid now. A lot has changed since we last saw one another.”

“Clearly.”

From Obi-Wan’s tone, it’s clear he’s not sure how to process all of it, and Anakin can relate. It’s… a lot to take in all at once, but now that Obi-Wan is here, Anakin doesn’t want him to leave. The Predator is after him, and with Obi-Wan at his side, he probably stands a better chance at… handling it.

“You’re still using your lightning,” Obi-Wan notes after a momentary pause.

Anakin shrugs. “It only comes if I’m… desperate. I can’t control it.” That’s probably part of what led to him accidentally shocking Reva.

“Do you think your old master has one more lesson for you?” Obi-Wan asks dryly. “I’m not a Sith, and I don’t know much about the Dark or lightning, but the one thing I can teach you is how to stay controlled. You always struggled with that lesson as a padawan.”

Anakin gives him an uncertain look, unsure if he’s teasing or criticizing until he sees the slight quirk of Obi-Wan’s mouth. “I know,” he answers, looking away with a frown. “I feel… deeply. I don’t always know how to find a center. I– I don’t know if it’ll help, but I– at this point, I’m willing to try anything.”

If he’d known known how to harness that power, he thinks he could have diffused the blast that the Predator threw at him. He might not have won the fight, but he wouldn’t have lost. He wouldn’t have ended up so close to death that Obi-Wan and Reva had to step in and save him.

Obi-Wan touches his shoulder fleetingly. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, there is no try,” Anakin deadpans, and the three of them laugh. It’s a relief after the tension and fear of the last many hours. “Where are we going, anyway?”

He should have asked sooner, and he probably would have if his mind wasn’t so scrambled and if his body wasn’t so worn. He should know better than to let down his guard, especially so soon after such a resounding defeat.

“To another world, I don’t know the name,” Obi-Wan answers. “I had a contact who got us off Daiyu on a cargo ship. Someone will meet us upon our destination and get us somewhere safe from where we should be able to procure a ship to go anywhere we want.”

Anakin nods slowly. “You trust this contact?”

“Bail did.”

And well, Anakin can’t really ask for more of a guarantee than that. If Bail trusted the man, then Anakin has no choice but to trust him, too. He’s not really in a fighting condition. Actually, he’s not in a condition to do much of anything at all. If Kix was here, he’d be scolding Anakin for even daring to sit. He ought to lie down and rest, but he can’t, not yet.

“Okay,” he says, swallowing. His throat is dry. “We need to get back to Tatooine as quickly as possible. And we need to figure out what we plan to do next.”

Already, his mind is beginning to race. He needs to find out who the Predator is. He cannot fight the Empire if the Predator is hunting for him. He also lost the only trail he has for Maul, and Maul is something else he needs to deal with. He doesn’t know what they’ll do now. They have two threats that need to be faced – and quickly, at that.

The Predator and Maul.

He doesn’t know where to begin. Maybe –

“Not now,” Obi-Wan tells him firmly, interrupting his train of thought. He reaches out, hand settling on Anakin’s shoulder. He can’t feel it clearly with his armor, but it’s there, and it still warms his chest. “You should lay back down and get some rest. Reva and I can keep watch. You should probably drink something, too. Maybe eat a few bites as well.”

It’s been so long since he’s had Obi-Wan to fuss over him, and Anakin chokes on the gratitude that rises in his throat. He doesn’t have to do this alone, and since Obi-Wan is here, he can let himself fall into the feeling of being taken care of by the only true father figure he has ever had – and Qui-Gon doesn’t count since he was there, but he never raised Anakin like Obi-Wan.

“Alright,” Anakin answers, and he can see a flicker of surprise on Obi-Wan’s face. He must have expected that Anakin wouldn’t give in so easily. “Wake me if something happens?”

Obi-Wan nods. “Of course.”

Maybe he’s not safe from the Predator, and maybe he never will be again, but he’s probably as safe as he can get for now.

***

When the call came in, requesting reinforcements at the Imperial outpost on Daiyu, Inquiere hadn’t especially wanted to go, not when the report also contained a mention of the person who did it. He has not seen the Predator since his attack on the Inquisitor’s command center on Coruscant months ago. He has seen the aftermath, but the Empire has never been contacted when an attack is actively occurring.

Until now.

Inquiere doesn’t want to go, but he does it anyway, because it’s his duty as a servant of the Empire. As a servant of the Emperor. The galaxy will not see peace until the Predator is dealt with. Inquiere does not, of course, go alone. The Ninth Sister comes with him – she has unfinished business with the Predator, and the hatred she feels for him, having left her delimbed and almost dead, only rivals the hatred that Inquiere knows the Emperor himself feels.

The Fourth and Seventh Sisters come, too, and Inquiere hopes that between the four of them, they can neutralize the Predator this time. He knows from past experience that they cannot split up. They must force him into the open to kill him once and for all.

They lock down the port, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because a sweep of the city turns up with nothing. If the Predator is still here, he’s hiding, presumably so deep underground that they cannot locate him.

Inquiere saw the destruction overhead when they were coming in to land, and it’s only worse on the ground. The four of them go out on foot, searching for the Predator and anyone who might be able to tell them what happened. The air is still filled with ash and smoke in this part of the city, and bodies are still on the ground. He can feel the death and pain in the Force. Whatever happened here, it was… intense.

They don’t find the Predator, but they do find a new type of weapon that Inquiere has only heard rumors about until now.

Kyber weapons.

They are mainly blasters, but there is a rifle, and he orders the stormtroopers to round up and confiscate every single one they can find. The Emperor must be informed, and he will probably not be pleased. Even if there is a limited number of kyber crystals that can be made into weapons, even one is dangerous, and this looks to be more than just a small handful.

And while they can’t find the Predator, there are many eyewitnesses who saw the Predator on the planet. Apparently, he was fighting someone, something that Inquiere had begun to question from the vivid lightsaber marks in some places.

The Fourth Sister brings in a man who is altogether too happy to tell them everything he knows.

“He was fighting someone,” the man confirms. “Guy had a sword just like your Predator. Only thing is that it was red, and he was wearing some real funny armor. The Predator set a building on fire,” he continues. “Weirdest thing I ever saw. The flames are purple, and they ain’t dying out. Last person who got too close turned into ash.”

Of course, that begs investigation, and Inquiere had expected something, anything other than the reality. The man wasn’t lying. One of the buildings is burning yet not, purple flames hungrily licking at its surface but not destroying it entirely. The fire should die out, but it’s not, and it feels wrong in the Force. It feels unnatural, and even the Dark shies away.

He gives the building a final, calculating look before turning away. “We must report this to the Emperor at once.”

***

The moment Sidious hears the news, he feels a chill go down his spine.

Fear.

He wastes no time in going to Daiyu himself, instructing his apprentice to remain at the site of the undying flames and ensure that they do not spread. The Predator is dabbling with powers he does not understand, and all that remains between Her and the galaxy is Sidious himself. He does not delude himself into believing that he is the galaxy’s savior. He knows exactly what and who he is, but he also knows that for him to have the power he seeks, he must protect the galaxy in his own way.

A pity, really, that he didn’t succeed in killing every last Jedi. They are so desperate, so unwilling to concede defeat, that they will turn to Her for help… and that will be their undoing. Theirs and the entire galaxy’s with them. How arrogant is the Predator to think that he can wield Her power without consequences?

But there is someone who stood up to the Predator, someone who did not die easily – if at all – and Sidious is intrigued. The moment he steps onto Daiyu, he can feel the echoes, echoes that only grow stronger as the speeder takes him through the streets. It’s been over a year, yet he still knows his chosen apprentice’s Force presence.

Anakin Skywalker was here.

He stood up to the Predator and lived to tell the tale.

Though when Sidious climbs from the speeder and regards the undying purple flames, he realizes that whatever pride he might feel at Skywalker’s strength was perhaps felt too soon. The fight was not just a fight between Skywalker and the Predator. It was also a fight between Her and the Force. Two opposites that cannot exist in the same galaxy. Either the Force’s order or Her chaos must prevail. The galaxy is not big enough for both.

The fight was violent enough that Sidious can feel the cracks in reality. Cracks that have not broken open to the other side but cracks nevertheless. The flames are only a symptom of what’s coming. They are a herald of Her.

He reaches out, gritting his teeth against the unnatural wrongness that crawls over his skin when the Force he is wielding brushes the tendrils of Her power. He knows how to bear it, and he knows how to close rifts.

He’s done it before.

This, though, is not even a rift, and he clenches his hand into a fist, letting the Force wash over the flames to smother them, pushing away the bits of Her power and cleansing it. The building stops burning, and he can feel the startled eyes of his apprentice and the Inquisitors on him, but he does not look back.

Better that they do not know about Her or Her powers. It is a knowledge that they may wish to misuse, not understanding what it is that they will bring onto the galaxy should they play with things they cannot comprehend. They did not see what Sidious saw. They do not know what he does.

Whatever it takes and no matter the costs, Sidious will destroy those who seek to unleash Her.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan is exhausted, but he doesn’t allow himself to sleep until after they’ve gotten off the cargo transport and boarded a passenger shuttle that will take them to Tatooine. He’s a Jedi Master, and he might not have needed to draw on the Force to restore his energy for a while, but he has not forgotten the techniques. Only when he knows they are safe, or at least as safe as they can possibly be until they reach their destination, does he lay down.

He’s asleep almost at once.

But when he sleeps, he dreams.

The images before him are indistinct, but he can still make out the fiery reds and oranges of what is either fire or lava. The planet burns with the Dark, and the glimpses that he sees are filled with that same darkness. He sees Anakin, his yellow eyes wild and furious as he wields his blue lightsaber against… him? He can feel the familiar hum of his kyber crystal in his hands as he duels his once padawan to the death.

Their environment doesn’t stop them, not the ash, not the air, and not even the lava rivers that crisscross the surface.

“I have failed you, Anakin!”

“– the Jedi are evil!”

“You underestimate my power!”

Obi-Wan sees as Anakin’s delimbed body tumbles to the blackened ground, as he struggles and screams, trying to drag himself away from the bank. Pain doesn’t stop him, nothing does. He’s driven on by hatred and determination.

“You were the Chosen One!”

And he sees as Anakin’s body catches on fire, burning with flames that are not out, burning as Obi-Wan walks away and leaves him there.

Obi-Wan wakes up with a scream caught in his throat, heart hammering frantically in his chest, the Force whispering a wordless message to him, one that he is unable to comprehend. A vision? Or something that could have happened?

He doesn’t know, can’t tell, and he cannot shake the very real fear that something dark and sinister lies ahead of them. On Daiyu, he saw Qui-Gon, and his dead master told him that he had to bridge the gap between the Light and Dark. It seemed so absurd at the time, and now, after this… nightmare, it seems even more impossible.

He lets out a shaky breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. Probably, he should try meditating on it. There is no reality in which he wants to fight Anakin, much less leave him to burn to death. What could even lead to such a thing? He doesn’t know, or maybe he’s too afraid to know.

“Master?” Anakin’s voice is careful. Quiet. He’s probably trying not to make too much noise lest they wake Reva. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Obi-Wan answers, turning toward him. The lighting is dim, but he can still make out the too-familiar concern on his once padawan’s face. “It was only a dream.” That might have worked on Anakin in the past, but when he sees the look that flickers through Anakin’s blue eyes only moments before his expression settles with conviction, Obi-Wan is faced with how much Anakin has changed.

“You once told me that it is rare for Jedi to merely have dreams,” he counters. “I can sense that it has upset you deeply.”

Obi-Wan looks away. “I do not think it was a vision,” he answers, “or at least, I hope it was not. We– we were dueling on a planet of lava, and I– injured you.”

“Fatally?” Anakin asks, and he seems far too calm given what Obi-Wan just revealed to him.

He grimaces. “I hope not.”

Anakin hums. “Something… touched you, Obi-Wan. I can feel it. Something unnatural.” His eyes are distant in that way they always are when he’s focusing solely on what the Force is telling him. “I do not believe we need to be concerned, not yet, but we should at least be cautious. Always in motion, the future is. That’s what Master Yoda always taught.”

A part of Obi-Wan feels unfairly surprised to hear it. Just because Anakin is dabbling with the Dark, that doesn’t mean he has cast aside everything he learned as a Jedi. He is so… different. He has matured. He possesses a sense of surety that he was always lacking in the past. Perhaps it is merely time, or perhaps being on a path of his own choosing was good for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t know.

“I suppose you are right,” he concedes, taking another breath as he tries to dispel his fear into the Force. He isn’t ready to face the enormity of what Anakin means to him… and what it would do to him to lose him.

Silence settles, and it’s a comfortable one. For a few minutes, they’re each lost in their own thoughts and resting in each other’s presences.

“We need to find the Predator,” Anakin blurts out abruptly. “His identity, not his hiding spot. Whoever– whatever he is, we cannot let him roam free. The chaos he could inflict…” His voice trails off, and he nearly shudders visibly.

“I know,” Obi-Wan replies, “but he’s too strong for us.”

Something that looks too much like fear flashes across his face, and he looks away. “He was able to track me,” he whispers. “I tried to run, but he– he used my Force presence to track me. He somehow created a portal. I don’t know where that ends. Can he still find me off-world?”

The possibility is chilling, and Obi-Wan does his best to control his reaction to it. Anakin doesn’t need to face Obi-Wan’s anxiety on top of his own. “I don’t know,” he answers, “but we will be mindful and prepared. He could have killed all of us, but he didn’t. I don’t know why.” It’s not much of a reassurance, nor does it seem to make Anakin feel better.

He watches as Anakin swallows, visibly turning his focus to something else. “We need to find Maul, too,” he says.

Obi-Wan huffs. “On that, you and I are in full agreement. The weapons he is distributing are dangerous, to say the least.”

“When we get home, I guess we can try to pick up his trail.” Anakin sounds tired, and Obi-Wan reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

“Get some rest. We won’t be back for a few hours still, and you’re injured.”

He almost thinks that Anakin will protest, but in the end, he doesn’t, laying back down and closing his eyes. Obi-Wan watches him for a moment before settling down himself and letting the sound of Anakin’s breathing pull him back under.

***

To say that Sidious is alarmed by the revelation of kyber-powered weaponry would be an understatement. He knew that the Jedi possessed some such weapons, but the extent that has been seen on Daiyu is different. It’s more. This is not the work of the Jedi. This is the work of other criminal factions, ones that may well be in collusion with the Jedi – or even other traitors to the Empire. It’s something they need to investigate with due haste.

He orders his apprentice to look into it. This, at least, should be one mission that he does not fail. If he does…

Well, there are many other Inquisitors who would be grateful to take his role.

“My Lord, someone wishes to see you,” Inquiere informs him after accepting his new mission. “He insists that he is your personal emissary.”

The distrust in his apprentice’s voice is obvious, and Sidious reaches out with the Force to check who it is. “Mm. Let him in,” he commands.

Inquiere falters for only a moment before bowing his head and doing as he’s told. He returns escorting none other than Ochi of Bestoon. The assassin has long been in the Sith’s employ, and after the Empire formed and Skywalker disappeared, Sidious sent Ochi to find him. He has no doubt scoured many planets, but it’s a big galaxy. Eventually, Skywalker will turn up.

“Tell me what you’ve found,” Sidious demands the moment that Ochi approaches.

“The duel that transpired on this world,” Ochi replies. “I witnessed it. The one with the red blade. He calls himself Darth Vader. He may be the same shadow that has been rumored to haunt the Hutt spaces.”

Darth Vader? It’s an odd name, a Sith’s name, and Sidious’ suspicions only grow. Skywalker. It has to be. But if he is going through such great pains to hide his identity, he will not be captured easily… or at all.

It is imperative that he drive Vader away from the public eye. Should word spread of a rival Sith, he would not be surprised if the Jedi flock to him in the hopes of finding a powerful ally. And perhaps if there is a hunt for Vader, Sidious can flush him out of hiding.

“Put a bounty on his head,” Sidious orders. “Four million credits for the capture of the Shadow.” After all, it would do no good to publicize the name Darth Vader. Whatever game Skywalker is playing, Sidious does not intend to fall into the trap. He has other things to worry about.

“There is one more thing,” Ochi adds. “Kenobi is alive. He was on the planet. I assume he fled when the Imperial forces arrived.”

Sidious’ eyes narrow. “Was he a participant in the duel?”

“He appeared to be helping… Vader.”

Of course. When it came down to it, Kenobi sided with his former apprentice over the unknown Predator.

“Very well,” Sidious answers. “I want you to track down this new player. Bring him in.” Ochi is well trained, and even if he cannot defeat Skywalker, he will surely pose a challenge to him. To even the playing field, perhaps he can even let the assassin take some of the kyber weapons the Empire retrieved. The sooner he can have Skywalker in his hands, the better.

***

Ahsoka is not the only Jedi who is present at the meeting of the rapidly growing Rebel Alliance, nor is she the only one who is immediately intrigued by Master Windu’s report of what happened on Daiyu. The surviving Jedi have learned well how to live in the shadows. They have learned how to survive when all the odds are stacked against them. Sometimes, that means doing things that are against their beliefs, their very way of life, but more and more, she has begun to realize that is the only option.

Their only option.

The Alliance had mixed views on whether or not to strike up a tentative deal with Maul. As the leader of much of the criminal underworld, he has contacts and resources that could be pivotal to turning the tide against the Empire. Eventually, the Alliance agreed that should he be able to prove the effectiveness of his new kyber crystal powered weapons, they would purchase them from him.

Master Windu went personally to observe, and his report is reassuring, if disturbing. The damage those weapons can cause is vast, and that might be just what the Alliance needs if it is to have any hope of surviving the increasing scrutiny of the Empire.

“And the being you fought?” one of the other Jedi questions. His name is Ferren Barr if Ahsoka remembers correctly. She doesn’t know him very well. “What of them? Is there a chance they can be swayed to our side? We need allies, and I know that there are those of us who find it… distasteful to ally ourselves with Dark Side users, but these are difficult times.”

These are difficult times.

How many times has she heard that recently? Too many, and she exhales softly, exchanging a glance with Lux and Saw who are next to her. They are still working together, but she has noticed the strain between them. Saw is losing himself, determined to go to any lengths necessary to achieve an Alliance victory. Lux is more cautious. He might have been a rebel, but he was raised by a politician. He’s better at diplomacy than Saw. Two different viewpoints, each of which the Alliance needs to hear.

“No,” Windu replies, and there’s a sharpness to his voice that startles Ahsoka a bit. “He is far too dangerous. We have reached a deal with Maul. He will supply us with these weapon prototypes so long as we agree to do some jobs for him.”

“What kind of jobs?” Ahsoka asks warily. She knows Maul, and she knows he can’t be trusted. Master Obi-Wan was right about that. He’s difficult to kill, difficult to deal with, period. After what he said to her on Mandalore, after what he did to her there –

Well, she doesn’t trust him. He’s dangerous. So many lives were lost because of him, all because he wanted to lure Anakin there to kill him. And then, when she refused his offer, he defeated her. Instead of killing her like she expected, he ordered her to pull Republic forces off-world lest he slaughter every single clone still on the planet. It was a bitter defeat, and the 501st retreated back to their cruisers. Bo-Katan and her people went underground.

Ahsoka had been planning a second attack in the hopes of catching Maul off-guard when… everything fell apart. Order 66 came through, and she narrowly escaped from the cruiser with Rex. So many died, and the survivors returned to the Empire.

It took time before they started coming back. Some died on missions, others had been reassigned and more sent to “retirement”. But the survivors are together again, with Rex, with her. Together, they’re continuing Anakin’s fight, even if he isn’t here.

“Unknown,” Windu replies. “Vos spoke to him, but Maul would not budge or give us details. He’ll call when he needs us.”

“That is far from ideal,” Lux points out. “We have no idea what he might intend to do. For all we know, he could send us into a trap to turn the Empire’s focus onto us in a bid to protect himself.”

“I am aware,” Windu answers, “but those were our options, and these weapons could turn the tide of this war.”

“We must make sacrifices,” Saw agrees. “Working for criminals is not ideal, but these are difficult times.”

Ahsoka presses her lips together. For how long will they say that? For how long, will the words “difficult times” be thrown around to justify whatever path they’re taking? If they’re sacrificing all of their morals, if they’re agreeing to do terrible things in the name of the fallen Republic and Jedi Order, they might not be worse than the Sith, but are they truly any better?

But it’s not something to which she can give voice, not here. She’s only nineteen. No longer a child, but perhaps not enough of an adult to understand the situation. Though her trust in the Jedi has been shaken, she knows that Plo agrees with Windu, and because of that, she won’t speak out against him. He must know what he’s doing. These are difficult times. For all of them. It’s just – sometimes, she’s afraid of where this path might take them.

The meeting adjourns when no one has anything further to add, and Ahsoka finds herself wandering along the edges of their camp long after sunset as she tries to sort through the tangled mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings. Meditating isn’t helping, not when the Force is alive with death and darkness. She doesn’t know what the right path is.

When she left the Order, she hadn’t seen any other option. She hadn’t wanted to be pulled back into the fight. She was never supposed to be a warrior. This is not the life she wants for herself, for any of the people here, but if they don’t stand up for what’s right, then who will? The people out there need them. Day by day, the Empire makes life harder for so many. They deserve justice, and the one thing that Ahsoka knows for sure is that someone has to help them. Helping people is what the Jedi did, and now that the Order is all but destroyed, it falls on them – the survivors – to carry the burden.

“Ahsoka?”

She turns at the sound of Lux’s voice, heart fluttering in her chest. They’ve never spoken about what they could have been if not for her being a Jedi, but she still cares for him deeply – just as he cares for her. Sometimes, Ahsoka lets herself imagine the kind of life they could have had if they were just people, not Senator and Jedi, not politician and warrior. But it’s only a dream.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggests, fingertips brushing her arm. She doesn’t pull away when he takes her hand, and for a few minutes, they’re quiet as they walk through the darkness, letting the soft sounds of nature soothe them. “I am not sure that General Windu is correct,” Lux says at last. “Whoever he fought was skilled and powerful.”

Ahsoka nods, lekku swaying with the movement. “I know,” she answers. “It seems like it would be worth the risk of allying with him. He can’t be worse than Maul.”

Lux sighs. “Yeah. I’m not sure about this agreement with Maul, either. We’re giving him too much power over us, but everyone is so certain that the weapons are worth it.”

Maybe it’s simply too hard for them to consider the possibility that they’re making a mistake, their need for victory, for revenge, blinding them to the reality in which they are living.

“It concerns me, too,” Ahsoka confesses. “When does this end? I understand that we cannot allow the Empire to continue unchallenged, and diplomacy will not work, but we are sacrificing so much. Our very way of life is being destroyed.”

“I suppose it would be hard to be both a Jedi and a freedom fighter at once.” Lux’s voice is thoughtful.

“I never liked fighting,” Ahsoka whispers. It’s a hushed confession. She knows it was something many Jedi struggled with, but it also feels as though complaining about it is somehow wrong. This is their reality, and if they don’t fight, then they must surrender to the Empire which is something they cannot do. “I hated it, but Anakin– he helped me. I– I miss him. It would be easier if he was here.”

“You haven’t found any traces of him?” Lux asks, and in his tone, she can hear that he misses Anakin, too. He might not have known him well, but he was fond of Anakin – just as Anakin was very fond of him. They were friends, once.

She shakes her head mutely, and Lux pulls her closer, wrapping her in his arms. “We’ll find him,” he murmurs in that gentle tone reserved just for her. “He would not die easy. He’s out there, and we’ll find him.”

“I hope so,” Ahsoka answers, equally soft. She squeezes him a little tighter, taking a moment to bask in the warmth of his presence. Maybe they can never be more than friends, not without being distracted from their purpose, but moments of comfort such as this are okay. They’re friends, after all.

“Ahsoka…” It’s barely above a whisper. “Do you– have you ever considered that maybe the Alliance is making a mistake? With Maul. With… many things.”

She closes her eyes. It feels like a betrayal, and yet –

“… yes,” she breathes.

Lux pulls back to look at her face, and they’re so close that she would only need to lean in slightly to have a repeat of what happened on Carlac.

She doesn’t.

“Me too,” he admits, and she can see, in his gaze, the same desire that he will not act on, either. Maybe someday, when this is all over, they can take the time to figure out what they want, but that day has not yet come.

For now, they must fight.

Chapter Text

Anakin doesn’t feel much better when they finally arrive on Tatooine. Physically, he’s still exhausted and injured, but he’s struggling to stay asleep, too hyperaware of his surroundings and too afraid that the Predator might find a way to track him all the way back home. That isn’t something he wants to dwell on. He has so many friends here. Family, too. He knows they would never stand a chance against the Predator if he was to show up.

Obi-Wan is supporting him as they descend from the transport, Reva trailing along behind them. For all that he hates Tatooine, a part of him is still glad to be here. He’s glad to be home. Aayla gasps when she sees them, running forward without hesitation, stopping only an arm’s length away, eyes traveling down his body as she tries to guess how injured he is.

“I was so worried when I realized that Reva slipped away,” she admits, and Anakin can feel the girl wince behind him. “What happened? I see you found Master Kenobi?”

“It’s a long story,” Anakin answers, blowing out a breath. “We should get inside first.”

Aayla goes to his other side, and he’s grateful to have her here again as she and Obi-Wan help him into the palace. Somewhere along the way, Beru scoops up Reva, fussing over her as she checks her for injuries and scolds her gently for giving them all such a scare. And then, before Anakin even has time to explain, Kix descends on him, scanning him and demanding that he be immediately put into the bacta tank to heal.

He would like to say that he protests, but really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t have it in him.

The mission was a failure, and it was the one time that he could not afford to fail. Now, they don’t have a lead on Maul, and they have to locate and unmask the Predator. Whoever he is, he’s dangerous, and Anakin doesn’t particularly want to go up against him again, but at the same time, that doesn’t mean he intends to leave it. Whoever the Predator is, he considers Anakin an enemy, and the only way to protect himself is to go on the offensive, at least for now. He needs to know more about his opponent.

Kix has to sedate him in the tank, and he drifts there for a long, long time. When he’s taken out, he feels fully refreshed and only slightly more at ease than before. Just because the Predator hasn’t found him yet, that doesn’t mean anything. He could come anytime. Any minute. They’re not safe. He isn’t safe, and because the Predator is after him, that automatically puts everyone that he cares about into the line of fire as well.

After confirming that Obi-Wan updated Aayla – who then told everyone else – what happened on Daiyu, he calls for Boba Fett and Fennec Shand. The bounty hunters are still on Tatooine, and his best chance of success lies with them.

“I have a job for you,” he says, and he’s careful to keep his posture casual as he sits on his throne. He might be shaken by Daiyu, but they don’t need to know that. “I am looking for two individuals.” He flips on the hologram. “Quinlan Vos. Jedi Master.” He changes it. “He is called the Predator,” Anakin continues, trying not to betray the fear that he feels at the sight of that mask. “Do not engage either of them. They’re dangerous. Do not underestimate them.”

Fennec’s eyes are narrowed as she studies the hologram. “We got it,” she answers. “We’ll be in touch.” Anakin passes her the holodisk that contains all known information on the two. She takes it, nodding, and gestures to Boba. They leave together, and for the first time, Anakin actually feels a bit hopeful. If he can at least locate Vos, perhaps all hope is not lost. He can get Maul’s location out of him, and then… well, and then they’ll see.

He doesn’t intend to give up. Surrendering is not in his nature.

One thing at a time and focusing on the updates on Tatooine, the progress of the cleaning up and repairs after the Pyke attack is strangely comforting. It’s familiar, at least, even if leading an entire planet is still new to him. Sometime later, Anakin finds himself alone with Kitster. “I can tell something is weighing on you,” Anakin notes, studying him.

His friend flashes him a quick smile, even if it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ll have to leave again, won’t you?” he asks. “And you could be away even longer this time.”

Anakin touches his shoulder. “I can take care of myself,” he promises. “Daiyu was… unusual.”

“Because of the Predator,” Kitster agrees, leaning against him. “I know. I have faith in you. That’s not it.”

His uncertainty is clear, but Anakin cannot guess at the source of it. “Then what?”

“We’d have made more progress recovering if you were here,” he answers. “Aayla is a good leader, but the people don’t trust her like they trust you.” He pauses, sighing. “You have bigger fight than us, Ani, and that means you won’t always be able to lead us. If something happens, if– if the Predator or the Empire chase you, you might not be able to come back, and then, we’ll be left in chaos.”

He’s trying to say something. Anakin can sense it. But whatever that something is, Kitster is hesitant to just blurt it out. He can, however, understand the concern. He sensed it himself that the people only were relieved when they saw him again. The transition of power is still too fresh for most of them. They’re afraid of instability and chaos. They need a leader to guide him, and Anakin would like to devote himself to them, but he cannot. There are other people who need him, and he cannot ignore their plight just to keep Tatooine safe. If he could, he would not have become a Jedi.

“What do you think I should do?” Anakin questions. He knows Kitster has a solution; he’s just hesitant to offer it.

“I think– I think if you and Aayla were to marry, her word would be considered yours,” he replies, and Anakin blinks at him in startled shock.

Marry. Marry??? Of all the suggestions that Kitster could have given, that would have been the last one Anakin expected. Scratch that. It was the one he never could have expected. And yet, the idea does have some merit. It would certainly calm the anxious public, even if would be awkward for him to end up in a political marriage without even being able to talk to Padme about it. The need to see her – and their child – burns under his skin, but he ignores it. He has to ignore it if he wants to keep them safe.

“What other options do we have?” Anakin wants to know. Marrying Aayla is definitely a solution, and perhaps the best one if he’ll be going off-world more frequently and for longer periods of time in the coming months, yet he has to be thorough. Their relationship is already complicated, and he would like for it to remain with the same comfortable friendship they’ve settled into. Even if their marriage is only a marriage in name, that would still lead the public to assume that they’re – that they’re together.

Force, will they be expected to have a child???

That’s something he would prefer not to think about right now.

Kitster shrugs. “You can appoint her as your second, but with the current state of unrest in the wake of the Pykes’ attack, I don’t know how far it would go. I talked to her about it already. She said she’ll stand by whatever decision you made.”

Fondness fills him. Of course she did. She would never force him into something he doesn’t want. None of them would. If Kitster is suggesting this, it’s because he believes it really is the best choice. They know about Padme. They know about what Anakin promised her. They know about his dreams.

Unfortunately, they also know that reality does not always let you follow your dreams.

Anakin thinks about it for a few days, discussing other alternatives with Kitster, Aayla, Owen, and Beru, yet they all agree that a public marriage might be best for everyone’s sakes. It will end the speculating about the nature of his relationship with Aayla, and it will make everyone feel more at ease if – or rather, when Anakin disappears from the public view for a time and leaves Aayla in his place.

For all that he thinks about Padme, he finds that another part of him does not mind the idea of marrying Aayla. She’s a good friend, and Reva already considers her to be her mother. If he has to get married to someone other than Padme, he would pick Aayla.

The night before their wedding ceremony finds him restless and unable to sleep. He’s a bit anxious about tomorrow, but mostly, he can’t sleep anymore period. The Predator’s shadow hangs heavily over him, and there is no escaping from it. Even though he has tried to convince himself that he is safe here, that he is beyond the Predator’s reach, there is still a small part of him that does not accept it.

That cannot accept it.

The whole thing with Vos and Maul and the Pykes is all too… strange. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence that he ran into the Predator on Daiyu, but he wonders if it could have been more than that. Maybe he and Vos are working together as well, which means the Predator could find him here if he tried.

The horizon is only barely beginning to lighten when Aayla finds him pacing in the hall, trying fruitlessly to battle down his fears.

“You should be sleeping,” she says softly, coming to stand next to him.

He huffs, staring out the window at the vast desert beyond and feeling strangely castigated. “I know,” he answers. “I could not sleep.”

“Because of tomorrow?” she guesses hesitantly. “You don’t have to go through with it. We can find another way if you’re opposed.”

Anakin turns to her, searching her face and trying to guess how she might be feeling. She said she’d be fine with marriage. Is she really? Or is she only agreeing because it’s her duty, and she promised to support him? Does she want this?

It’s a dangerous line of thought, and he cannot explain the twisted, tangled emotions inside of him when he thinks about Aayla finding a man who is worthy of her, a man who she might want to marry and start a family with. He would be happy for her, of course. She would deserve it. And yet, a part of him balks at the thought. She’s always been there, never far from him. He doesn’t know that he would like for her to be living elsewhere, even if she deserves to have a life of her own. He would never force her to bind herself to him if she wants something else.

Someone else.

“No,” he replies, “no, it’s not that. What about you?” he asks, before she can push further and before his courage fails him. “This is… permanent. You won’t be able to choose someone for yourself easily.”

Her smile is small, almost sad, and there’s something in her eyes that Anakin can’t read even though he thinks he should be able to. “This is where I want to be, Anakin,” she answers, reaching out, hands settling on his arms. “Right here. With you.”

A flush creeps into his cheeks, and he looks away. Sometimes, it still surprises him to know how much people care about him. For so long as a Jedi, he got used to knowing that if they were fond of him, they would never show it because it wasn’t the Jedi way. Though everything is different now, he is sometimes caught off-guard. “Good,” he whispers.

“So, why aren’t you sleeping?” Aayla questions knowingly. She knows he was avoiding the question.

Still avoiding her gaze, he sighs. “The Predator,” he admits. “He was able to track me there on Daiyu even when he couldn’t see me. I– I have no assurance that he cannot find me here, too. Fighting him was… hard when I was awake. Asleep, I would be vulnerable.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Aayla promises, hand sliding down to cover his own. She shifts, taking his hand in both of hers. “I’ll keep watch.” She means it, and Anakin lets out a trembling breath, torn between relief and disbelief. He doesn’t think Aayla could stop the Predator should he come, but she might slow him down enough for Anakin to wake up and help her.

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling her closer and wrapping his free arm around her back to hug her. “Thank you.”

“Always,” she answers, and it’s not until Anakin can feel the brightness of her presence next to him that he’s able to truly sleep for the first time since Daiyu.

***

Aayla watches Anakin sleep, a myriad of emotions tangling in her heart. She had argued when Kitster came to her with his suggestion. He’d seen how she struggled to maintain control with Anakin gone. He’d seen the hesitancy from the people, the way they silently questioned where is Jacen Starkiller. They’d wondered why Starkiller’s “mistress” was the one giving orders. Some thought she’d killed him and assumed control.

Tatooine is not ready for another change of that magnitude, not yet. Not for a long time. The planet is far too unstable to endure another change of power without collapsing entirely.

She understands the reasoning behind the suggestion. Logically, it makes sense. It only becomes more complicated when it’s Anakin that she is being asked to marry. She knows he is promised to Senator Amidala, but that does not change how she feels for him. It doesn’t change that there is a part of her that would like to be his wife. Not just for politics, but for real.

Of course, she would never tell him so. It would be unfair to him, and the last thing that Aayla wants is to distract or confuse him when he has so much going on already. He’s taking his role seriously. He’s not only the leader of Tatooine, but the soon-to-be challenger to the Empire itself. She knows him. She knows he won’t stop. Now that he’s gotten a taste for what else he can do and for who else he can help, he won’t stop.

She just hopes, dearly, that his fight for freedom won’t lead to his death. If he was to die before he got the family he always wanted, before she could at least tell him how she feels, she doesn’t know how she could ever let that go. She doesn’t know how she could let him go.

Maybe Vos is right that Anakin is dangerous, but not for the reason that he believes. Anakin is dangerous because he inspires people. He makes them love him without even knowing it, and there is no greater power than that. He makes them follow him, he makes them want to follow him, and she knows that there are many people who would walk straight into hell itself if Anakin led them there.

It’s dangerous, but perhaps it’s that kind of courage and leadership that is needed to bring down the Empire.

***

The wedding ceremony isn’t big or elaborate, not like weddings in many other parts of the galaxy. On Tatooine, weddings are simple. Simple yet meaningful, and people come from all over to see it. It’s… simple. They don’t have much, but they have enough to get by. Spending on events, even weddings, is something that just isn’t done.

Afterwards, they don’t talk about it. Maybe there isn’t even anything to say anyway. There’s so much to do, so much to plan, and Anakin first settles down to finish repairing his lightsaber. It takes some tinkering to be able to have two kyber crystals in the same hilt and to be able to switch which crystal the power flows through. He adds an option to put the power through both, just in case it’s ever needed, and the result is a purple blade so powerful that he thinks it will be a challenge to wield. Hopefully, he never needs it.

He repairs his armor, too. The nanosuit had been damaged by the Predator, and it takes some work to get it fixed up. He’s not familiar enough with nanotechnology to make something incredibly complicated and sophisticated, but that will come with practice. It would be nice to have a suit that contains its own shielding to protect him from blaster bolts. Or maybe something with a jetpack. He has many options, but his means are limited. For now.

Waiting is hard. Anakin became used to waiting for results during the war, but it was never easy. Not then and not now, and he tries to distract himself in every way possible. He trains Reva. He helps oversee the increase of security to prevent another invasion. He tries to expand a network of informants who can keep an eye in important criminal areas to let him know if there’s danger. He works with Owen, Beru, Kitster, and Kix. He works with Aayla and Obi-Wan.

With them, he trains. He wasn’t strong enough to defeat the Predator, and the only option is to hone his skills further. He knows that he’s capable of more, but to reach that level of skill and power, he has to train. He duels with them. He tries to learn more lightsaber forms, and he asks Obi-Wan to carry through with his promise to help him master Force lightning. Obi-Wan can’t teach him lightning or the Dark, but he can teach him to stay controlled. The lessons are hard, not only because Anakin struggles to remain in the moment. He’s always moving, always active, always trying to stay three steps ahead of the people around him. It’s how he survived as a child.

But things are different now, and he has to adapt. He has to learn, and maybe Obi-Wan’s lessons won’t give him what he needs to stop the Predator if – when? – they meet again, but maybe it will give him an advantage when facing others.

A war is coming.

Anakin can feel it in the air. He recognizes the feeling from the Clone Wars. The dread, the impending darkness and death. He can feel it.

A war is coming, but this time, he won’t be facing it alone.

Chapter Text

Adapting to life on Tatooine isn’t easy. It’s different from anything Obi-Wan has experienced in the past, especially since he feels so much like an outsider. He is one, really. He’s a Jedi. He didn’t grow up here like Anakin, and he hasn’t had so many months to adapt like Aayla or Reva. Still, the people are friendly, and for all that he sometimes feels as though he doesn’t fit here, Anakin’s friends go out of their way to make him feel welcomed.

It’s strangely relieving to have a place that he can call home once more. So much time has passed since the Jedi were destroyed. So much time has passed since he was among people who welcomed him as one of them, people who understood him. Maybe he can never get that time or feeling back, but he can find a new place to call home.

“Shand contacted me,” Anakin tells him – and everyone who’s around – when they sit down for the early morning meal. Soon, Anakin will have to go to his throne room from where he will handle the needs of his people. It’s strange to see him in such a role, but it suits him. He’s changed so much, yet Obi-Wan is very proud of the man that he’s become.

“And?” Kix asks. “What did she say?”

“She found Vos,” he answers, looking up from his bowl. Conversation around the table quiets. “He’s on Cantonica. I need to track him down before he moves on.”

Vos. Obi-Wan’s heart clenches at the name. One of the people he grew up with, yet one who could now be a threat. He does not believe for a moment that Vos has truly sided with Maul. Despite what happened between him and Ventress, Obi-Wan has faith in him. Vos would not join another Sith, and certainly not Maul, who caused so much harm to the Jedi – and to Obi-Wan, personally. Vos is loyal if nothing else. There must be another explanation.

“I’m coming,” Obi-Wan insists. “Maul might be there, and I’m not letting you handle him alone.” He is tired of watching Maul hurt the people he loves.

Anakin hesitates, looking between the others. “That’s fine,” he says at last. “Having backup might be a good idea. Aayla–”

“I’ve got it handled,” she nods, reaching out to pat his arm.

At moments like this, Obi-Wan can only look at them and see them as a couple. He knows their marriage was political in nature, but they’ve fallen into the role of parents so easily. Reva adores them both and looks up to them. She sees them as her parents. Even after weeks, he’s not fully used to it. Anakin was so good with Ahsoka, so it only makes sense that he’s a good parent figure for Reva, no matter how disconcerting it can be.

Or perhaps the real reason that Obi-Wan is unsettled is because he’s afraid of Anakin and Aayla being married for real. He is not ready for little Skywalkers to be running around.

But that… is a concern for later. For now, they have a Sith to deal with.

***

Aayla pulls Anakin aside before he and Obi-Wan depart. His armor has been repaired – long ago, of course – and his lightsaber as well. Obi-Wan intends to wear the same armor that he used during the Clone Wars, just in case he needs the extra protection. It will be a risk, but they are hoping that with his robe covering it, no one will realize who he is.

“I know you’re upset at my master,” Aayla tells him, “but please don’t hurt him.” Her gaze is pleading, and Anakin is filled with the need to pull her into his arms and reassure her.

“I won’t,” he answers, hand settling on her shoulder. He’ll try, for her, not to hurt Vos.

“Promise?” she whispers, and for a moment, there’s something almost fragile on her face.

Anakin’s grip tightens. He understands why she’s afraid. They haven’t spoken much about how she feels about what happened with Vos, but he knows that she’s relieved that he’s alive. So many Jedi are dead, but he isn’t, and it means the world to her. He would like to promise. He would like to give her any reassurance that he can, if only so she doesn’t look so afraid. “I’ll protect myself if he fights me,” Anakin tells her, because he cannot promise not to hurt Vos. “And I will not kill him.”

“Thank you,” Aayla replies. She steps closer, hugging him quickly.

The goodbyes are brief, and Anakin makes sure that Reva is with Aayla before leaving with Obi-Wan. Reva hadn’t wanted to stay behind, but Anakin had insisted, and after how close things came on Daiyu, she didn’t fight it. That’s for the best when Anakin doesn’t know what he’ll have to do when they arrive.

Ideally, he’ll kill Maul. If he can put an end to him once and for all, then he can pick through the remnants of Maul’s organization. It might be an advantageous resource for him. They might be criminals, but they might also be of use to him, especially with the Predator, whoever he is, wanting him dead. If the end goal is the destruction of Sidious and the Empire, he’ll need more allies. More influence. Maul’s organization might give him that, no matter how unsavory it will be to work with them.

“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan asks once they’ve jumped to hyperspace. It’s telling that he didn’t ask earlier. It shows how much he trusts Anakin.

“Catonica,” Anakin replies. “Outer Rim. Shand said that Vos was spotted at the casino in Canto Bight.” He reviews what he knows about the planet, which admittedly isn’t much. He only had a chance to do a brief search on the holonet. Desert planet. Crime world. Artificial ocean by the city. But beyond that, he knows nothing. He misses the days when they went on missions with a whole briefing packet telling them everything about the planet and people so they could interact with them properly. For all he knows, they could make a major breach of etiquette causing everything to be that much harder.

When they land in the spaceport, it feels like walking back onto Daiyu. It has the same echoes of darkness, the same shady dealings going on in the corners, but Anakin pays it no mind as he heads to the location that Shand gave him. The bounty hunter is there with Boba. They’ve camped out in one of the top floors of a motel, and they’re watching the cantina a block away.

“He’s there,” Shand says, pointing to the place. “We’ve seen him go in and out a few times over the past couple of days.”

“They’re running some sort of black-market business out the back,” Boba adds, staring through a pair of macrobinoculars. “They’ve had trucks some in during the night.”

“Good work,” Anakin tells them, handing them a case filled with credits. “We’ll take it from here.” He and Obi-Wan leave the motel, entering the cantina carefully. They have no idea what they’re about to walk into, and all Shand could tell them when she scouted it out is that it looks like any ordinary cantina. A bar to serve drinks, a room with seats, a storage room in the back. There’s another space in the very back that she hadn’t been able to gain access to, but all in all, it’s their best lead on Vos.

The Force is warning them of danger, a soft murmur in their ears as they enter the cantina. Music blares from overhead speakers, lights flashing intermittently and lighting up the dance floor. Almost no one pays them any attention, and Anakin prefers it that way. Once he’s assured that they won’t be attacked, he gestures to Obi-Wan to follow him. They creep into the back, distracting the guards with well-placed Force diversions, and in one case, a mind trick, as they enter the very back of the structure.

Appearances are deceiving, Anakin realizes, as he stares into the massive area in front of them. It’s a warehouse, half built underground and filled with crates and containers of unknown content. Vos was supposed to be in here, so unless he slipped out a secret exit when Fennec and Boba weren’t watching, he’s here.

His heartrate picks up with anticipation as he creeps into the shadows. Something hums distantly, perhaps a generator, force field, or truck, Anakin doesn’t know.

“Something is out there,” Obi-Wan whispers, voice strained. “Something… familiar.”

“Vos?” Anakin guesses, glancing back. It’s been so long that he can’t say with certainty that he’d be able to pinpoint the Jedi Master through the Force alone. Besides, the two of them were never close, and Vos was trained as a Shadow. He must have ways of hiding, ways that Anakin doesn’t know.

“Keep going,” Obi-Wan replies, eyes narrowed. “We’ll find out.”

The Force grows tense as they walk, and Anakin stops in front of a door. Something or someone lies on the other side. He opens it to reveal a chamber even more massive than the one they were in. A balcony lies on the other side overlooking the entirety of the warehouse. Something clatters behind them, and Obi-Wan spins around to check.

“Wait!” Anakin blurts out.

He feels it before it happens, but it’s too late. A ray shield hisses to life in the doorway, separating them. Obi-Wan ignites his lightsaber instinctively, but ray shields are one of the things that lightsabers can’t get through.

“There should be controls somewhere,” Anakin tells him. “Find them. I’ll go ahead.”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan answers, shaking his head. “This was a trap.”

Anakin glances back, knowing that Obi-Wan is right, but – “I can handle Vos.”

A door on the other side of the chamber opens, and a black-robed figure steps through. Anakin’s heart skips a beat when he realizes who it is. Obi-Wan sucks in a breath of startled shock. “Maul,” he realizes. “Anakin, you won’t be able to handle him alone.”

Anakin turns, squaring his shoulders and reaching for his lightsaber. “I don’t think I have a choice.” He can feel how afraid Obi-Wan is and given what he knows about what happened when Qui-Gon died, he understands it. But he is not Qui-Gon. He might be younger, but he is also stronger. He’s the Chosen One, and that has to mean something.

“Anakin Skywalker. Or should I say Darth Vader? Our long-awaited meeting has come at last.” Maul’s voice echoes through the warehouse, dangerous and menacing. He lifts his hand, igniting his double-bladed, red lightsaber.

Anakin scoffs. “I saw you as a child, Maul. You nearly ran over me on Tatooine. I saw you on Naboo, too. I know who you are.”

“Perhaps I should have killed you there,” Maul replies, and then, he jumps.

***

Panic flares, sharp and bright in Obi-Wan’s chest as Anakin ignites his lightsaber, red blade hissing to life as he brings it up to block Maul’s downward stroke. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening, and Obi-Wan watches desperately as the two begin to duel. He’s trapped behind a ray shield the same way he was trapped when he watched his master die, not one single thing that he could do to stop it.

He won’t let the same thing be true today. He cannot watch as Maul kills Anakin. Not Anakin. His once padawan means so much to him, and Obi-Wan can’t lose him. They’ve only just begun to rebuild their bond. Anakin doesn’t know what Maul is capable of. He might have seen him, and he might have read the reports, but he’s never fought him. He’ll never be prepared for all of Maul’s many tricks. Maul is dangerous. Even Ahsoka wasn’t able to handle him, and Anakin trained her so well. She was able to fend off Grievous long enough to find an escape, something that most padawans her age could not.

But Maul? Maul is a whole new level of dangerous.

Obi-Wan casts another look in the direction of the fighting duo and turns to try and find a way through. Anakin is right. There must be controls for the ray shield somewhere. Maul undoubtedly did this just to mock him, but he’ll get through, and he’ll show Maul why he messed with the wrong Jedi.

He and Anakin will destroy Maul here and now.

***

The duel is vicious from the start, both of them fighting to kill, and at least with Maul, Anakin isn’t afraid of holding back. By killing Maul, he will do the galaxy a service. It somehow felt different with the Predator, perhaps because he was a fellow Jedi. Or used to be a fellow Jedi, at any rate.

They fight, red against red, as they move through the warehouse, using every trick and skill that they’ve learned. They’re evenly matched, but with Maul, Anakin doesn’t feel like he’s fighting a losing battle. It reassures him. A part of him had been so afraid that he was losing his skill after being on Tatooine so long. He was only ever able to duel with Aayla and more recently, Obi-Wan, and his fight with the Predator left him shaken to the core.

It was only because of Aayla’s presence, because she’s been keeping watch while he sleeps, that he’s been able to get some rest. So many what ifs have been spinning through his mind. What if he’s losing his skill? What if he’s making a mistake by delving into the Dark? What if he should have stayed closer to Padme and their child??? He doesn’t know, and the uncertainty of it all is almost more than he can handle. No matter how confident he tries to be, he’s still scared.

What if he’s not able to defeat Maul?

Qui-Gon couldn’t.

Anakin tries not to let those feelings get to him, focusing on the Force as it guides his movements. Maul is quick. Fast on his feet, and his legs are metal which gives him an advantage. He also has kyber weapons. Anakin hadn’t expected them at first, but they’re here, and Maul keeps backflipping to a higher level and then firing down on him with a kyber blaster. The blasts are powerful, and he can feel the shock of them all the way in his shoulders when he deflects them away from him.

It doesn’t help that the Force is only growing even more tense.

Anakin’s main advantage is that he trained to counter the form Maul is using. When he was still a padawan, he fought droids that he designed to fight like Maul. He used what Obi-Wan taught him and then reprogrammed them. He was… afraid, he supposes, of facing someone like Maul and losing Obi-Wan like he lost Qui-Gon. Until that day on Naboo, he hadn’t believed that the Jedi could die.

Maul kicks him again, and he grunts as he’s slammed against the wall. He’ll bruise from that, but he doesn’t let the pain stop him. He just gets back up and keeps fighting the way he’s been taught.

“How do you think your master will react?” Maul taunts. “If I kill you in front of him like I did his master, do you think it will break him?”

Anakin scoffs. “You don’t know Obi-Wan,” he answers.

He can almost feel Maul’s glee. “I suppose we shall see.”

Another backflip, and a Force wave slams him backward when he tries to follow. He stands, calling his lightsaber back to his hand when the Force alerts him to the ever-growing danger. A glance tells him that it’s a small, round device. It resembles a thermal detonator, but Anakin knows that it’s more. It’s worse.

Kyber-powered.

Swearing under his breath, he throws himself behind the closest cover he can find before the thing detonates. Even though his helmet is intended to muffle the sound, it still makes his ears ring when it goes off, and the force of the blast hurls him through the wall. He lands in the cantina itself, and screams fill the air as the more debris comes crashing down. The air is filled with smoke, flames licking eagerly at every flammable surface.

His head hurts.

Anakin lays there, stunned, and it takes him too long to regain his bearings. Longer still to get his limbs under him, and it’s only the surge of adrenaline that his when he hears someone yelling about Jedi being spotted that gets him up and moving. Obi-Wan. Force, where is he?

He pushes through the panicked crowd, tugging at their bond to locate him. They see each other at the same time, and Anakin catches Obi-Wan’s arm, pulling him into the street as they try to get as far from the scene as possible. They stop to catch their breath in an alley. It was a disaster. Another disaster, and any questions about whether or not Maul set up Daiyu disappear.

“That was a trap,” Obi-Wan says flatly. “Maul took off the moment I got the ray shield down.”

Anakin sighs, wishing he could scrub his face. His head hurts. “He was prepared for us,” he answers, “but I can’t tell what he wants.” Maybe Maul realized he would lose and fled before that could happen. Maybe he was setting up something else entirely. He’s crafty. He wouldn’t have done that without a reason.

“For the meantime, let’s stay away from Maul,” Obi-Wan decides, scowl fixed firmly on his face. “I don’t want you around him.”

“It’s not the same as it was on Naboo, Obi-Wan,” Anakin points out. “I can take care of myself.”

Obi-Wan gives him a look. “Maul has– done a lot of things, Anakin. I don’t want you to take that chance.” The ghosts of Qui-Gon and Satine are hanging there, and reluctantly, Anakin has to admit that he understands.

“We have to find him,” Anakin tells him, turning to keep walking. “Those kyber weapons are dangerous. Look at what they did to that cantina?”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, almost resigned. Anakin can feel the way his protectiveness is warring with his need for justice. “We won’t leave it alone, but we have to be careful. Maul is not to be trifled with.”

Nor am I, Anakin wants to say but doesn’t. He’s not… there yet. He’s not the same as Maul. He’s not a ruthless Sith, nor does he want to be, but he is afraid of what the cost of fighting the Empire will be. For him and for his family. He doesn’t know if the people they’ll become will be anything like the people they are now, and if they lose their morality, how will they be any different than the Sith?

Chapter Text

“We need to leave,” Obi-Wan says, his urgency growing by the minute. “The Empire has been alerted that lightsaber wielders were fighting. They’ll be coming, Anakin.”

But Anakin doesn’t even look at him. He’s been focused on trying to extract whatever information he can find on the sole computer console that escaped the destruction in the cantina. It’s half buried under rubble and that means the two of them are shielded from sight. If someone comes, they’ll see… but Obi-Wan doesn’t want to take his chances. He understands why Anakin insists that they do this. Whatever intel they can find will undoubtedly be valuable, even if they need to risk their lives to do it.

“Anakin,” he hisses. Though he doesn’t know how close the nearest Imperial forces are, they could arrive at any moment, and the last thing they need is to be pinned down in the city with no chance of escape.

“I’ve almost got it,” he answers distractedly, brow furrowed as he works. “We can’t leave this place without some sort of intel, Master. We did that once on Daiyu. We have to win something.”

And in that moment, Obi-Wan sees only his padawan. Anakin’s determination to win was not something that he was able to understand. It wasn’t until the destruction of the Jedi and the Republic that Obi-Wan began to see things from Anakin’s perspective. He began to see why Anakin always needed that victory. It wasn’t because he was a bad Jedi, or because he was too aggressive and enjoyed fighting.

Well, perhaps he did, but that wasn’t why. No, Anakin fought for victory because all his life, he was at the bottom. He was a slave. He was never allowed to win; that was a right reserved solely for the masters.

When Obi-Wan was out there, hunted by the Empire, knowing that he could die any day just for being who he is, he began to understand. Anakin fought to prove that he could be more than what other people wanted him to be. The masters kept him enslaved, and he needed to feel as though he could escape from their grip. If he could prove himself capable of victory, then it was him who won, not the masters, not the specters from his past that Obi-Wan could not even begin to fathom.

“Be quick,” he says grudgingly, shifting restlessly and creeping to look out again. The Force is quiet, and darkness is falling. It would be easy for someone to sneak up on them. He doesn’t like it.

“We have to destroy this operation.” Anakin’s voice is quiet, yet it’s still loud enough to carry to Obi-Wan where he stands. “Whoever is getting this weapons… we have to get them back. If I can find a list of buyers, we’ll have a list of targets. This has to end.”

Obi-Wan has to agree. This is something that they can do to protect the people of the galaxy, so they will do it. Who knows what kind of criminals will be taking these weapons??? What will they do with them? Who will they hurt?

There is a reason why it was illegal for anyone other than a Jedi – or in certain circumstances, a former Jedi Knight or Jedi Master – to carry a lightsaber. Even padawans were expected to hand them over. That was why Ahsoka left without them.

A flicker of movement shakes him from his musings, and he ducks lower to conceal himself, hand creeping toward his lightsaber as he scans the rubble. A silent nudge to Anakin through their bond alerts him to a possible intruder, and they both shift, ready to lash out if needed.

When needed.

A dark-robed figure comes into view. Obi-Wan sees the hem of the robe first, and he tenses instinctively. A part of him suspects the Predator, but he doesn’t feel that same sick wrongness that has always accompanied him. It’s not Maul, either. The Darkness of his presence would have been unmistakable. He cannot hide it, or perhaps he simply does not care to try.

It’s familiar though. It’s…

His eyes widen.

Vos is who they came here for. The Jedi Shadow might not trust Anakin, but he will at least listen to Obi-Wan.

“Quinlan,” he calls, pushing to his feet and stepping from around the jagged edge of warped metal and burned duracrete. “I know it’s you.”

The figure stops, and slowly, he reaches up to push back his hood. Obi-Wan’s heart clenches when he sees him. It’s Vos alright. He looks so similar to how he did the last time Obi-Wan saw him before the Jedi fell. Words cannot do justice to the relief that he feels at seeing a fellow Jedi. He had known Anakin and Master Yoda survived, but he has seen so few beyond them. Aayla, the Predator, and now Vos.

How many other Jedi are even alive?

It’s not something he wants to dwell on.

“Obi-Wan.” Vos’ tone is guarded.

“We came here to find you,” Obi-Wan tells him stepping forward and ignoring the way Anakin pushes at him through their bond. He wants Obi-Wan to be more cautious lest Vos attack him, but Obi-Wan knows Vos. They grew up together. They were… like brothers. Best friends. Even if they drifted apart as they got older, there was a time when they were close.

“You and Skywalker.” It’s not a question. “You know he can’t be trusted.”

“Why not?” Anakin demands, stepping forward. “Because I used the Dark Side?” He laughs, hard and mirthless. “Do you think I didn’t hear the stories about how you did the same? You’re working for a Sith.”

“For now,” Vos allows. “Maul is useful. He has resources and allies.”

Obi-Wan lets out a breath of relief. Good. It’s as he suspected then. Vos has not been swayed to the Dark Side. He is using Maul because he’s useful.

His dark eyes are narrowed on Anakin, focus never wavering. It hurts to see his mistrust. “Anakin has not lost his way, Vos, you must believe me,” Obi-Wan insists.

“He is a Sith,” Vos fires back, drawing his lightsaber, and Obi-Wan can feel that stirring Darkness surrounding him. He has not Fallen the way he did during the war, but he’s on the edge. It’s a dangerous path to walk. For him and for Anakin, too, but now, Obi-Wan understands it. They have lost so much, and they have sacrificed even more. It’s like it was during the war when the Jedi were willing to consider things they would have never entertained before. After everything they lost, they had to win to make the sacrifices worth it.

“He is not,” Obi-Wan snaps, stepping forward. Even if Anakin doesn’t need his protection anymore, it’s instinct for him to stand between his padawan and a threat. Especially if that threat comes from a Jedi. If he can talk Vos down, then he will.

“You don’t know what he has done, Obi-Wan,” Vos replies, shaking his head.

“And what is it that you think I’ve done?” Anakin demands harshly. He’s not afraid, exactly, but he is on edge. From what Obi-Wan has learned about the duel between Anakin and Vos on Tatooine, it was a close fight before Vos retreated. Then, he had been using the Dark. Perhaps he and Anakin are not so dissimilar.

“I know who you are,” Vos spits, igniting his lightsaber. The green blade casts an almost eerie glow on their surroundings. “Traitor. You’re a Sith. You’re Darth Vader.”

“Woah.” Obi-Wan steps forward, holding up his hands. “Anakin has done nothing wrong. Having a Sith name does not mean he is a Sith.” But Vos isn’t listening to him. He’s too fixated on Anakin.

The tension only seems to thicken, growing until Obi-Wan can nearly taste it in the back of his throat. Vos moves, but Anakin is faster, a blue blade hissing to life as it blocks Vos’ green one. That Anakin is using blue instead of red is clearly deliberate. It’s meant as a symbol. He’s trying to show to whom his loyalty lies.

“You, more than anyone, should know that Falling does not make someone evil!” Anakin yells. He’s shifted into a defensive stance, deflecting Vos’ strikes though he makes none of his own. Whether he’s not trying to hurt him because he doesn’t want to be the monster Vos seems to think he is, or because of Obi-Wan and Aayla, Obi-Wan doesn’t know. Perhaps it doesn’t matter anyway.

“You killed Jedi.” It’s a snarl, and Obi-Wan draws his own lightsaber, determined to step between the two and put an end to this.

Vos’ golden eyes flash toward him, narrowed and angry when Obi-Wan’s blade blocks his. “Of course you’re taking his side,” he sneers. “You were never very good at accepting he might be in the wrong. Do you have any idea what he’s done, Obi-Wan?”

“He’s been fighting the Empire,” Obi-Wan answers coolly. “I assume you have been doing the same.”

Vos laughs mirthlessly, but he doesn’t press his attack. “No, he’s working for Sidious.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him in complete confusion. “I beg your pardon? Who told you that? Anakin tried to kill Sidious after he destroyed the Jedi. He nearly succeeded. Master Yoda and I witnessed their duel. He might have Fallen, but all he has done is try to save as many as he could. Have you not met any of the survivors from the Temple?”

Vos hesitates, clearly wary and uncertain, but his anger is faltering in the face of Obi-Wan’s words. “Some,” he answers vaguely. “There don’t seem to be many.”

“How is that possible?” Anakin bursts out, stepping forward. “I helped so many escape.”

For the first time, Vos looks… uncertain. “I have heard otherwise.”

“The Predator,” Anakin states flatly. “I don’t know why he hates me, but whatever he thinks I did, he’s wrong. The– the only deaths at the Temple that were by my hand were– were the clones.” He trips over the words a little, and the guilt he feels is obvious in his voice.

“I guess we’ll see,” Vos replies vaguely, hooking his lightsaber back on his belt and spinning around.

“Wait,” Obi-Wan calls after him. “Where are you going?”

“To find the truth,” he answers, disappearing into the shadows.

“That… could have gone worse,” Anakin admits quietly, “and it also could have gone better. At least I got the intel.”

Obi-Wan lets out a breath of relief. “Good. That’s good.”

If they have the intel, they can find out who’s gotten these weapons so they can take them back.

***

In Maul’s line of work, he has learned to be patient. Building an empire takes time, but he knows that the Shadow Collective is far stronger than he could have anticipated in the short amount of time that it has existed. The longer he can stay in hiding, and the more he can make it seem as though others are responsible for his acts against the Empire, the less likely it will be that Sidious chooses to destroy him.

It’s all about patience, and after years spent in the grips of insanity, Maul has learned patience. It was not something he was good at when young, and it was something that Sidious punished him for repeatedly. It feels like bittersweet revenge to take those lessons and use them against the Galactic Empire. His once master will be so angry if he ever learns.

It starts with small things.

Giving his… apprentice kyber weapons to give to his rebel friends is a start. For now, the rogue Jedi and other anti-Empire factions view him as an ally. Let them keep that image of him. It will work to their mutual benefit. It will keep the Empire distracted while Maul moves in on Skywalker’s territory and adds it to his growing syndicate. Maul is merely waiting for him to destroy the rest of the Hutt clans, and he knows it will happen eventually. When he does, Maul can take control without going to war against the Hutts, a war that he would lose.

With the combined strength of Maul’s forces and the so-called Rebel Alliance, Sidious will be defeated, and they can overthrow his empire. And then? If the rebels attempt to turn on him, he will be able to turn the tables on them and destroy them, too.

In the end, Sidious will be dead and the Jedi with him… and the galaxy will be his.

Maul has men infiltrate the Empire on every level. They recruit people from all over the galaxy, especially in the underworlds. Coruscant is ripe for the taking, and it’s amusing how many people he has who are right under Sidious’ very nose. He has stormtroopers and officers and ISB agents. He even managed to launch a small strike on the Inquisitor’s fortress. Doing so was laughably easy. The Black Sun rules Mustafar, and the fortress was on one of the planet’s moons. The attack had the success of getting a few of his agents into the place.

Whatever happens in the Empire, he knows about it.

It’s how he learned about the Empire is collecting kyber crystals for its own purposes. He decided to investigate. If the Empire plans to built its own kyber weapons, he would like to know so he can preempt them and maybe take some of the shipments for himself.

He finds something else. He finds whispers of a weapon. It takes time and patience and a lot of sacrificed pawns for him to learn of it. A planet-killing weapon.

The intel is forwarded to the rebels via Vos, and the weapon destroyed before it can ever be built. The kyber crystals are taken for his own uses, and the plans are erased from existence. Even if the Empire manages to recreate them, it will take time, time that they do not have.

Of course, Sidious grows suspicious of him eventually, or perhaps it’s merely that one of the Inquisitors sticks his nose around in the wrong place. It doesn’t really matter either way. Maul dispatches the Fallen Jedi without much of a fight. Pathetic. To think that his once master truly believes these weak replacements are any match for a true Sith.

Though that is probably the point. If they are weak, they will not be able to challenge him. useful for him. Less so for all the Imperials who are falling victim to that weakness. But at the end of the day, it works to Maul’s advantage. The Empire’s weakness is his strength. If the Empire falters, then he can prosper.

Luring Skywalker into a trap on Catonica only served to put him on a collision course with the rebels. Maul knew Skywalker was there to kill him, and he’d anticipated Kenobi’s presence. Separating them and then fleeing before Skywalker could get his taste of victory was deliberate. Left without a victory, Skywalker got the intel and left with it. And what will he do with it but go after those who have the kyber weapons?

It's brilliant, really.

If Skywalker and the rebels continue to remain at odds, then they will not object to Maul’s plans to destroy him. He has set up all the pieces on the board. Now, he only needs to remain aware of unexpected changes so he can manipulate everything to his benefit. He learned well from Sidious, and when he comes for him, he hopes that his once master will not see him coming.

***

The conversation with Obi-Wan and Skywalker haunts Vos long after he leaves Catonica. After reporting back to Maul, he heads to the one person who he knows for certain survived the Temple. She’s the one person who will not lie to him.

Mill Alibeth lives on Coruscant in the Underworld base that Windu established so long ago. She has said very little about how she survived. All Vos knows is that her master told her to escape. They met up later, but her master was killed by the Empire, and she was alone ever since.

“I’ve got a question for you, kid,” Vos says. Mill looks up, a bit glassy-eyed but still more aware than she often is. “About– the Temple. Skywalker.”

Some unnamed emotion flits across her face, and she curls into her chair a little more, nodding silently. She doesn’t speak much anymore, but she’s clearly listening.

“Did you see him there?”

A hesitation before she shakes her head. “I felt him,” she whispers, ducking her head so her tangled black hair falls forward to shield her face. In the Force, she feels like the eye of a storm. Vos has tried to help her, but the last time he touched her, he got pulled into her mind. The depths that she feels had left him disoriented and unable to function properly for a full week. He prefers to entrust her care to the other Jedi here. “I felt him go dark.” She fidgets a bit. “Master Nema said that he killed all the clones who were advancing on the medbay. We got out everyone we could before we had to run.”

Vos stares at her, searching what he can see of her face for any traces of a lie, but there is none. She’s telling the truth. It matches up with what Obi-Wan and Skywalker himself said. He… doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Is it possible that Master Windu is wrong?

“Thanks, kid,” he tells her, nearly reaching out to touch her before remembering himself at the last moment.

He hasn’t gotten far before his comm beeps with a high-priority message.

“We’ve got trouble,” Windu says, not even bothering with a greeting. “Vader attacked one of our bases. Wiped out everyone and blew the place apart.”

Vos swears. “You sure it was him?”

“We were able to recover some footage. We’re still accessing the extent of the damage,” Windu answers grimly. He types something on his comm, and Vos’ beeps a moment later. He pulls up the recording, a chill creeping down his spine as he watches the black-armored figure mowing through the rebels as though they’re nothing.

This is real.

And this is a declaration of war.

He’d begun to wonder if Obi-Wan and Mill were right about Skywalker, but now? Now, he doesn’t know. If Skywalker isn’t working with Sidious and the Empire, he must have some other angle, but it’s one that Vos doesn’t trust or like. He… did this. Killed rebels. Killed people who have done nothing but devote themselves to destroying Sidious and the Empire.

How is Vos supposed to trust someone like that?

And more importantly, what is going on??? If he’s not working with Sidious, what is he really after?

Chapter Text

Mill feels him coming before he’s even there, the headache in the back of her skull ratcheting up to almost unbearable levels. It’s too much. She feels it. She feels every death. She feels the echo of their final screams. She can taste it in the back of her throat whenever they come back from another mission. Not every mission means death, but most of them do.

And this one is no different.

She can feel the wrongness dripping from his skin, pooling around in his feet in invisible puddles. She can feel the shadows clinging to his skin. He leaves a trail of shadows and wrongness in his wake now.

He’ll be here in minutes, and Mill shuffles back to her little room, digging into the hidden compartment as she gets ryll out of her stash. Good sources are hard to come by, but she’s make it work. She doesn’t relax until the drug is coursing through her, making her feel light and floaty. The death and despair and wrongness are so far removed from her when she’s like this that she never wants it to end. It’s why she started taking ryll in the first place. It might not be good for her, but it helps her survive and keeps her sane, and she figures that’s what matters most.

Nothing matters like this, but she’s still aware enough to know that she needs to earn her keep. She’s not the padawan that Master Windu or Master Olin would have wanted, but she’s here, and she doesn’t want them to be disappointed. She hums lullabies from her creche days under her breath as she cleans up in the main living area of their lair.

She doesn’t flinch when the purple-edged portal forms as the three figures come through. It’s quieter on Coruscant right now. Most of the Jedi who live here are away on missions and helping the larger rebellion. Only Masters Windu and Olin come back here regularly, along with Master Windu’s other padawan, Caleb Dume. Though he prefers to go by Kanan Jarrus nowadays.

The adults don’t even look at her as they head back to their quarters, but she can feel Kanan’s eyes on her.

“Are you high again?” he asks. He’s sixteen now, and though he’s only a year older than her, Mill thinks that he often treats her like she’s far younger. Fair perhaps, but still annoying.

“Maaaaybe,” she giggles, twirling in a circle and nearly falling flat on her face when the room spins wildly around her. The movement makes her stomach churn unpleasantly, and she plops down on the floor. “Ugh.”

Kanan crouches next to her. “Did you overdose?” He sounds… well, Mill isn’t quite her how to place his tone. Concern, perhaps?

“Uh uh,” she answers, laying back against the sticky floor and sighing. Good sigh, bad sigh, she isn’t sure. She knows how much to take. She’s not stupid enough to overdose. It’s not the high that she craves so much as it is the distance from what’s happening around her. “You taste like death.”

He flinches. It’s slight, but she still notices. “Bad mission,” he answers, reaching out to touch her and then freezing. He fidgets, sitting back on the floor, close but not touching. If he touches her when he still feels of death, she might throw up. It’s happened before.

“Tell me,” she suggests, eyes falling shut. The floor is disgusting. The Force even more so, but this is the only life she has, and she can’t afford to be picky. If she got lost in the way it hurts to feel the darkness in the Force than she’d lose whatever is left of her mind.

She drifts, half conscious, as Kanan tells her about the mission. Another Imperial base. They were transporting weapons that would have been used against innocents. The transports were hijacked, the Imperials killed. It was supposed to be clean and simple. It wasn’t. Their cover was blown, and it turned into a massacre.

Same old, same old. It seems to happen more often than not, and Mill lets the ryll dull her senses and her thoughts, so she doesn’t ask Kanan if he thinks Master Windu is doing it on purpose. Most of their missions seem to go badly. It doesn’t make sense, but what does she know? She’s just a child, not a soldier. She’s a healer, an empath. She isn’t a warrior. A killer.

Or, she doesn’t want to be, at any rate.

Kanan doesn’t tell her if he has similar questions, and Mill knows better than to ask. Master Windu is his grandmaster. Kanan will never think badly of him.

And Mill… she is the only one who sees him for who he truly is.

***

Two years ago

The Temple is burning, and Master Nema tells her to run. Mill protests. She doesn’t want to leave her master behind. There are still more people they can save, but her master can sense her growing pain. Feeling so much death is hurting her. It’s slowing her down.

“You must run!” her master insists, pushing her toward the hidden door that will take her to the lower levels of the Temple. Unused levels. She can find an exit from there through which she can escape into the Underworld.

It’s terrifying, but staying here means certain death.

Mill runs.

The Underworld is exactly what Mill expected. It’s dark. It’s unpleasant. It reeks of corruption and misery. But it’s better, safer than the surface, so she stays down there. She learns how to survive, helping whoever she can. She learns how to steal, where the safest hiding places are, what to do and say, and who to avoid. The Force guides her, her unique connection to it giving her an advantage. Being an empath down here is hard, and Mill often doesn’t know how to keep going, but she learns.

She refuses to die down here, not when there are still people she can help.

Eventually, her master finds her. Nema isn’t the same, nor is she. They are both haunted by what they lost and the fall of the Temple. That becomes even more true when Nema… dies. Mill doesn’t know what happened to her. Imperials come to the Underworld and some Fallen Jedi. There is a massacre. Most of them die, but the fight is vicious, and the death toll is high. Somehow, Nema is caught up in it.

And Mill is alone again. She meets Master Kenobi briefly, but he runs to escape the Empire, and she disappears, hiding away in the small corners where no fully grown being can fit. Only her and other small creatures or children. She befriends the tookas that live down there, stealing from the rich upper worlders and giving out the credits to others who are suffering just as much as she is.

She knows her luck will run out eventually.

And then it does.

A gang of criminals find her, and Mill can feel their greediness. She doesn’t know if they mean to hurt her or sell her as a slave or…

She tries to fight back, but she’s never been much of a fighter, and she hasn’t used a lightsaber in months. All she has left of Master Nema is her lightsaber. They knock it from her hands and overwhelm her. She thinks she’s going to die.

But Master Windu saves her. He reeks of death and a wrongness that Mill doesn’t understand, but she’s so grateful to see another Jedi that she doesn’t even care. He uses purple Force lightning to burn the criminals to ash, all except one who gets away. He’s not a Jedi anymore, not like he used to be. He’s a survivor, too, just like her.

Master Windu holds her when she cries and takes her back to the base he’s created in the Underworld. Other Jedi are there, and Mill is so, so relieved to see them. It hurts to feel the brightness of their grief and pain, but they are Jedi. They understand how she feels, and they welcome her.

Master Windu is their leader, and he takes her in, training her along with Kanan. He teaches them how to survive. There is no room for mercy in these times, he always tells them. The Empire will not hesitate to kill. They must do the same.

At first, Mill is… naïve. She doesn’t quite understand what Master Windu wants from her. She knows he kills, of course – she can feel it on him – but she doesn’t realize that he wants her to… do the same. To be what he has become.

Then, comes The Mission.

Master Windu brings her, Kanan, and one other Jedi. The four of them are supposed to infiltrate an Imperial compound and splice into their database to find out more about two Jedi younglings who were recently captured. Mill wants to help. She doesn’t want them to suffer.

“Stay alert,” Master Windu warns them. “Stop anyone who comes this way.”

Stormtroopers come, and Mill forces herself to activate her lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts. This is for the Jedi, she tells herself. For the captured younglings. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She doesn’t want to kill anyone, but the younglings will be hurt or killed if she doesn’t try to protect them.

Mill still freezes up when the first stormtrooper goes down. She did that. The blaster bolt that hit his abdomen is one that she deflected. The troopers are angry and scared. Their emotions are so loud to her, especially when they start falling – and dying. It hurts. It hurts ithurtsithurts –

It doesn’t stop Kanan, though. It doesn’t stop Master Windu or the other Jedi, either. Master Windu comes to reinforce them. He doesn’t just block the bolts like she and Kanan were. He stalks forward and cuts through them, killing with a ruthlessness that makes her heart drop into her boots. She can’t do that.

“Come!” he calls, and Kanan runs forward to help him.

But Mill – Mill is frozen. She can’t move. Her heart is hammering wildly in her chest, and she’s shaking, caught up in the depths of the fear and pain that the troopers are radiating. She – she can’t –

She can’t do this.

The trooper that she hurt shifts, groaning. Oh. He’s still alive. He’s bleeding out, blood slowly pooling under him, and Mill creeps closer, extinguishing her lightsaber and looking down at him anxiously. After a moment, she crouches, pulling off his helmet so she can see his face, so she’ll remember the face of the man she hurt.

She never wanted to do this.

“Mill!” Master Windu calls. “Kill him. We need to leave before more reinforcements show up.”

She can feel more stormtroopers approaching, alarms blaring. They’re running out of time.

“But–” she protests. “He’s hurt. He’s not a threat.”

“He saw us,” Master Windu answers. “That’s dangerous information.”

The man whimpers. No. Boy. He’s younger than she thought. Barely twenty. He’s scared. He’s scared of her.

Mill blinks away tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispers to him. She ignites her lightsaber, but she doesn’t stab him with it. She can’t. Instead, she runs past him and pretends she did what she was told. Master Windu isn’t paying attention. No one is. She hopes they’ll never know that she showed mercy when she was told not to.

But then –

A blaster goes off. Kanan yelps as the shot grazes his shoulder, and Mill spins around with a gasp to see the injured, dying trooper propped up on an elbow. He – he tried to kill them. He aims at her, expression twisted with pain and panic. He’s dying, and he knows he’s dying, but he’s still trying to do his duty.

Mill blocks instinctively, and the bolt deflects back to hit him in the chest.

He drops to the floor, and she feels his life fading.

“This is why you can’t afford to show mercy,” Windu says. He’s not angry, and somehow, that only makes it worse.

They flee from the base, the information they were trying to retrieve secure in the datachip. It’s not until they’ve made it a safe distance away where Master Windu rips open a portal that Mill realizes she’s crying.

She can’t forget his face. It haunts her nightmares and her waking hours. She can’t forget the face of the boy she killed, and now, she can understand why Master Windu and so many other Jedi use alcohol or drugs. It dulls the reality in which they are living. It makes it more bearable for them.

Mill doesn’t remember the name of the person who first gave her ryll. She’d been hesitant at first, but the memories torment her.

She gives in, and the drug hits her hard, far harder than she’d expected. It fills her with a strange euphoria, dulling the Force and making it easier for her to ignore what she can sense so acutely. It hurts to feel death, but that hurt is a distant thing. Unreal. She can pretend it’s only her imagination.

No one ever stops her. Master Koth tries talking to her about it, once, but she explains that it helps keep her grounded. She can never escape the blood on her hands, but she can escape the memories and nightmares. She can escape the pervasive never-ending feeling of death. It grows sharper whenever the other Jedi come back from missions.

Mill isn’t so naïve anymore. She knows, now, that “mission” usually means “massacre”. She doesn’t think it’s justified, not really, but what does she know? She’s only a child. She’s too weak to be of use to them. She’s… defective. She can’t help with missions, so she stays at the lair instead, except for the times that Master Windu wants her to use her empath abilities to assist with something. It always makes her uncomfortable, but she does it, because at least she’s helping them fight the Empire.

The one thing that gives her consolation is that at least she’s not Fallen, not like so many others. She’s not killing anymore. Even if she feels alone, even if she’s passively using her abilities to hurt people, it’s better than the alternative. All of them feel alone. All of them miss the Temple. They miss the feeling of safety it provided. They miss the family they had there.

Mill also misses Anakin. She didn’t see him much after the war started and he became a General, but she always knew when he was on the planet. She could feel him. She could feel his warmth and light, and it comforted her. She felt him at the Temple. She felt him go dark, and it should have scared it, but it only reassured her instead.

Anakin was there, and he was fighting to protect them.

But not everyone looks on Anakin so positively or fondly. Master Windu hates him. At first, Mill had not understood the creeping darkness in Master Windu’s Force presence. It started after he came back from Daiyu. He never talked to her, of course – she’s not a confident or a friend – but she heard whispers. She might have been high a lot, but she heard.

That’s the first time Mill realizes that Master Windu feels… cold. He’s not a comforting or protective presence to her anymore. He’s cold. It scares her, but she doesn’t run. She has nowhere to go, and if she goes back to the streets, she’ll probably end up dead. She can’t defend herself if she’s high, and she doesn’t know how to break her addiction to ryll.

A few times, Mill considers talking to Master Windu about that hate, but she always backs down. She doesn’t want him to be angry at her, nor does she want to face his disappointment. He doesn’t know how she feels. She’s never told him. She avoids him whenever she can, and he’s a busy man. All of them are busy. They don’t pay attention to her, not really, and she prefers it that way. Kanan is the only one who talks to her regularly, but Mill thinks that’s just because he’s lonely. The two of them are the only children who live at this base. They might be some of the only children who are part of Master Windu’s network.

She keeps moving, doing what she can to make things easier for the Jedi who stay here. She cleans when she has the energy. She steals credits to buy food and medical supplies. Even if she can’t kill, she can steal, and at least that’s something useful. When she’s lonely, she goes to find the wild tookas that run about. They’re always glad to have a playmate. They welcome it when she scratches and pets them. When she’s with them, she isn’t alone.

One day, everything changes.

One day, she feels Anakin’s brilliant presence on Coruscant, and she knows deep inside of her that everything is about to change forever.

***

“I found something,” Anakin says, sliding the datapad over to Aayla. He sees the flicker of horror on her face as she scans it.

“How– how long has this been going on?” she asks, lekku twitching with revulsion.

“Probably since the Empire formed,” he replies. “I doubt that Cham Syndulla would have looked the other way while Twi’leks were trafficked from Ryloth.”

Aayla nods. “And they’re being sold on Coruscant.” It’s disbelieving, a feeling that Anakin shares. Ever since his last run-in with Maul, he’s been doing his best to steer clear of the Sith, instead focusing on tracking down the kyber weapons and taking them. Sometimes, that means having to kill the criminals who have them. He regrets it, a little, but he won’t stop. He can’t stop. If those weapons fall into the wrong hands, so many people could be hurt.

But now, an informant has come to him with rumors of Twi’leks – mainly women – being trafficked from Ryloth and sold off-world. Slavery is the one thing that Anakin vowed to eradicate when he was young, and now that he has the opportunity to do something about it, he won’t leave it unfinished.

“I have the flight path of the ship,” Anakin tells her. “I’ll stow away on board and find out where the auctions are going on.”

She reaches out to take his left hand, squeezing it tightly. “Be careful,” she warns, “and may the Force be with you.”

Aayla doesn’t mention the dangers of Anakin going to Coruscant, and Anakin doesn’t bring it up, either. This is something that must be done. All those people deserve to live in freedom, not slavery. If the Empire won’t do something about it… then Darth Vader will.

Anakin has never shied away from helping people, and he won’t start now.