Star Wars - Another Path 7
So I tweaked part of chapter 6, so you should go back and reread that...
And here's some more of this!
*throws it and runs*
Chapter 7
Confusion and Despair
Obi-Wan dropped out his trance and was immediately struck by a pounding headache. Slumping forward in his chair, he pressed a trembling hand to his sweaty forehead and breathed through the pain, which arced from the back of his skull to the front in pulsing waves. After a few minutes the ache receded some and he slowly sat up to take stock of his companions.
Mace Windu looked like death warmed-over with his dark brown skin coated in sweat and taking on a grayish tinge. Shaak Ti seemed marginally better off but she was still breathing heavily from the struggle with the evil spirit and also perhaps from a similar headache. Master Yoda appeared unaffected until he watched the elderly Jedi slide off his seat and nearly collapse on the floor.
“Yoda,” he croaked, his throat dry and scratchy, “are you alright?”
“Fine I shall be,” the tiny green Jedi wheezed. “Worry not. Rest I need. Nothing more.”
The Chief Healer swept into the room and began tending to Anakin’s pale prone form on the medical cot. Master Che barely spared them all a glance before briskly gesturing to them to exit the treatment room. Leaving her to her work, the four Jedi Masters slowly returned to the waiting room from earlier.
“So, before I turn myself over for surgery, may we have an explanation, Yoda?” Mace asked as he wearily lowered himself into a padded waiting room chair with his right arm tucked into his tunics.
“Siri told me that you’d been wounded, but-Star’s End!” Obi-Wan hissed as Mace’s arm shifted and revealed that his right hand and wrist were missing. “How did that happen?”
“Darth Sidious was a truly dangerous opponent,” Mace grunted. “I was fortunate to only lose my sword hand. The others were not so lucky.” He rubbed his left hand over his face to scrub away some of the perspiration. “Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, and Agen Kolar were all killed.”
“Mmm,” Yoda groaned from his seat on another chair and his long ears drooped. “Terrible news. May peace they find within the Force.”
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement and added his own silent wish for the souls of his lost colleagues. But this information led to a fresh problem for the High Council. With their loss, three seats, no four-since Anakin was out of commission and his membership had been so tenuous in the first place-had simultaneously been made vacant. How was the High Council supposed to lead the Order when a full third of its chairs were empty?
“But to explain…” Master Yoda pulled his gnarled walking cane into his lap and traced its irregular contours with is claws while he ordered his thoughts. “Early in the war a voice I began to hear in my meditations. Recognized it as Qui-Gon Jinn, I did, but at first believe it I did not. Yet persist his whispers did and ignore him I could not. No proof could I find of his spirit persisting within the Force that others could perceive, so kept it to myself I did. Much have I learned from him. Much more to learn there still is.”
Disappointment settled in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach. His old Master’s spirit had survived becoming one with the Force, yet until today he’d never heard a whisper of Qui-Gon Jinn’s voice. Yoda had been the one to find Qui-Gon’s ghost and commune with him for a few years now…not his student, Obi-Wan.
But it makes sense, he told himself. Yoda is far stronger in the Force than I, with centuries of experience. There is no better living Jedi for Master Qui-Gon to reach out to. I can’t even begin to compare.
“It was Master Jinn who called you back to Coruscant, wasn’t it?” Shaak Ti postulated.
“Correct,” Yoda confirmed with a nod. “Warned me, he did, and instructed me on what needed to be done. Protected the young one, he did, while we gathered and prepared to aid him.” The aged Master leaned back in the chair and cast Obi-Wan a weary but curious look. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, when did the young one’s true name you discover, hmm?”
“Ah, he decided to properly introduce himself to me as I was leaving for Utapau,” Obi-Wan replied with a ghost of a smile. “He also promised me an interesting story upon my return, which I assumed was an incentive for me to not fall to General Grievous’s deadly skills.” He paused to rub at his throbbing temples. “I wonder if what he’d planned to tell me had anything to do with that final vision that Master Qui-Gon showed us.”
“That was an interesting vision, wasn’t it,” Mace remarked and hissed sharply when he banged his right elbow on the armrest of his chair. “And while it is good that you found him alive, Obi-Wan, it presents us with a new problem as we’ve already formally reported Dar’ti Vader dead to the Senate. Now that it has turned out we were overly-hasty in doing so, what are we to do with him?”
“You reported him dead to the Senate?” Obi-Wan sputtered.
“With the death of the Supreme Chancellor we could not delay in making some report to the Senators,” Shaak Ti explained.
“I understand that, but-”
Vokara Che appeared in the doorway, abruptly halting any further discussion on the topic.
“Well, whatever you did worked in removing that Dark barrier and I’ve gotten him into a healing trance now, but the strain has left him in a bit worse shape than he was before. And even though he’s in the healing trance it’s not having as strong an effect as I’d like.” The blue-skinned Twi’lek grimaced sourly. “I’ve never seen a case like his before, so I won’t be able to give a clearer prognosis for him until I’ve observed him for a day or two, but right now I’d say he won’t heal much faster than he would without any Force healing. He’s young and was in good health before his injury so I don’t see why he won’t make a full recovery eventually.”
The Chief Healer immediately turned her attention exclusively on Mace Windu. “Now that that’s taken care of, you should come with me. I’m sure that Master Ti can update Master Yoda and Master Kenobi on the state of the Order perfectly well without your help. It’s far past time to perform your surgery.”
“Right she is,” Yoda said before Mace could protest. “Go you should. Shaak can assist us with what we must know. And plenty of time in the morning there will be for further discussion.”
Mace still looking willing to argue, but Yoda gave him a quelling look and the battered Human Master sighed and reluctantly moved to follow the Healer to where he would be treated.
“I will speak to you all tomorrow as soon as I can,” Mace promised as he departed.
“May the Force be with you,” Yoda murmured.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Mace vanished from the waiting room to have his amputation fully treated.
“Now,” Yoda turned to Shaak Ti, who had propped her shoulder against a wall instead of sitting like the rest of them had. “Assist me, if you would, to my quarters so that I might rest. Inform me of the high points you may on the way.”
“Of course, Master,” the red-skinned Togruta agreed and glanced over at Obi-Wan. “Will you be joining us, Obi-Wan?”
He wanted to agree, but his headache had started to intensify and he was starting to feel a touch dizzy. “I think I shall retire to my quarters for the night,” he said instead. “Master Tachi shared with me what she knew earlier.”
“That should be sufficient for now,” Shaak Ti agreed and carefully gathered Yoda into her arms. “I will seek you out in the morning, then.”
Murmuring his thanks, Obi-Wan levered himself out his seat and trudged back towards his apartment in the residence wing.
Since abandoning his post on Utapau he’d barely gotten any sleep or eaten more than a few emergency ration bars. Now, after driving off the Sith spirit, he was spent. He probably should go and eat a real meal before going to bed, but he just didn’t have the energy left to make a detour to the cafeteria. Moving purely on autopilot, he dragged his boots through the halls until he suddenly found himself in front of his own door.
Blinking wearily he pressed his palm against the scanner and nearly fell inside when the door hissed open. The common area was just as he’d left it before shipping out to hunt General Grievous, with a spread of spare parts on the caf table left over from one of Anakin’s little mechanical projects from before the Outer Rim sieges, which still hadn’t been cleaned up. Obi-Wan stared at the mess for a minute before tearing his gaze away and stumbling into his room.
He’ll be alright, he thought blearily as he discarded his robe, boots, and utility belt, simply dropping the things on the floor instead of putting them away properly. He’ll be spending a lot of time in the Halls of Healing, but he’ll be fine. And when he’s discharged, I’ll make sure that he finally cleans those components up…
Obi-Wan laid back on his cot, closed his eyes, and slept.
***
Shaak Ti glided back to her private quarters more than ready to turn in for the night after carrying Master Yoda to his own apartment. The future laid out before the Jedi Order still remained a treacherous and turbulent one, but with Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s return she felt fresh confidence that they would make it through the next few days successfully. After a good night’s sleep she would meet with the two Masters again and-
“Master Ti!”
The Togruta woman paused and straightened her sagging shoulders before turning to greet the Human Jedi Knight who had called out to her.
“Master Ti, what happened just now?” the fair-haired Jedi asked as he strode over to her. “What was that disturbance in the Force? All the Initiates on the dorm floor that I oversee felt it, too. Some even experienced flashes of visions.”
The Jedi Master was a bit startled by this news, but quickly divined the reason for the lesser Jedi’s report. Their battle against the Sith spirit had disturbed the Force and she shouldn’t be shocked that Jedi of all ages would’ve sensed it throughout the Temple. If she wasn’t so tired, she would’ve been very eager to collect accounts of these visions and study them.
“Calm yourself,” she advised the worried younger Jedi. “Nothing is amiss. Go reassure the younglings and record what they have sensed and seen, then-”
“Master!”
A male Mon Calamari with a blue-skinned female Nautolan hot on his heels rushed towards her from the opposite direction, their naturally large eyes unusually wide.
“Master Ti, did you feel it, too?” the Mon Cal blurted. His bulging fish-like eyes had pin-point pupils and his fin-like hands visibly trembled-clear signs of his distress. “It was like I was caught in a sudden storm, and then sunlight shone through.”
“For me it was more like music,” the blue Nautolan added, more outwardly composed than her Mon Calamari companion. “It began quiet and ominous with chaotic and threatening notes that built into a crashing crescendo, then it was soft and serene and calm-beautiful.”
Shaak Ti held up her hand to halt the other Jedi’s anxious chatter. “Please be calm, there is no need for alarm. Since it is growing late, please write down what you have experienced to be submitted to the Council of First Knowledge in the morning. Please share this instruction throughout the Temple and calm the fears of your fellow Jedi. Now-”
“Master!” yet another voice interrupted. “Master Ti!”
The newcomer was a green-skinned male Togruta that she recognized as the Knight that supervised the night shift of Temple’s communications spire. He was slightly taller than her and broader-shouldered, with larger montrals and shorter lekku, and he looked just as frazzled as the three other Jedi that she was already dealing with. But at least it seemed like he was seeking her aid on a different matter as he had a message board in his hand.
“Yes,” she invited as he drew nearer, “has the Senate deliver a fresh set of demands?”
Ever since the announcement to the Senate of the Supreme Chancellor’s demise the Temple had been bombarded by messages from various Senators and delegations. There were many frightened pleas for answers, angry demands for justice or at least a scapegoat to vilify, and even a few curious requests from Senators seeking to gain a new and advantageous position in the Senate by pledging to serve the Order’s interests. Shaak had spent most of the afternoon and early evening monitoring the messages and advising the communications staff in how to respond, interrupted only when she heard of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s arrival and when Vader-no, Anakin Skywalker was brought in by his former Master.
“Well, uh, nothing new, just more of the same,” he replied, a bit thrown by her question. “But-but we’re getting reports from the fronts regarding the disturbance in the Force and accounts of visions.”
“Oh?” Shaak blinked in surprise. “Which fronts?”
“All of them it seems like,” he answered, consulting his message board. “We’re getting backed up on taking signals from the Core all the way out the Outer Rim. And so far we’ve received requests from Master Plo Koon, Master Stass Allie, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Master Coleman Kcaj to move up the next meeting of the High Council to tomorrow if possible.”
Shaak Ti was taken aback by this news. It made sense that many of those in the Temple had sensed their struggle to banish the Dark spirit since they were so close nearby. And she could believe that a scattered few Jedi with above-average sensitivity would be able to detect it from off-planet. But from what she was hearing it sounded like nearly every Jedi in the Order had felt what had occurred from all over the entire galaxy.
“Tell the Council members that we shall meet noon tomorrow, local Coruscant time,” she decided. “Collect reports from all off-world Jedi and forward them to the Council of First Knowledge. And tell everyone not to worry. The High Council will make an announcement after all information has been gathered and considered.”
“Yes, Master,” the male Togruta said with a respectful bow and hurried off to carry out her instructions.
A few more minutes and Shaak finished calming the other Jedi and sent them on their way before others could appear and delay her further. Alone again she allowed her shoulders to droop and resumed her trek. And when she stepped inside her private quarters she relaxed fully and locked the door behind her.
Now to rest, she thought wearily as she began her evening routine. Hopefully nothing else will happen while I sleep. There’s more than enough to deal with already.
***
Padmé sat on her couch in her common room and stared blindly out over Coruscant’s glowing skyline and the tangled lanes of airborne vehicles that flowed through it. Her staff had helped her back to her penthouse from Bail’s ship just before the sun had set and then had coaxed her into eating, but she honestly couldn’t remember any of it. There hadn’t even been an out-of-body experience, just a blank stretch between waking up in the Tantive IV’s med bay and coming back to herself in her own residence.
The sensation of movement in her abdomen automatically brought one hand to rest over the spot. Then, less than a minute later, she felt a thump in the almost completely opposite side of her womb, and her hand obligingly shifted location. Before, she’d put off such occurrences as simply having a very active fetus; however, now she knew better.
Two. The knowledge buzzed through the numb haze that clung to her brain. There are two. Why did it never occur to me that I might carry twins?
Being that this was her first pregnancy, she had no first-hand experience on what was normal. During her sister’s two pregnancies she’d been incredibly busy being Queen of the Naboo. And she hadn’t even planned to get pregnant in the first place, which put her focus on covering it up to avoid a scandal that would hobble her political aims instead of contemplating her future role as a mother.
This changed things; made them more complicated. Now there were two lives that she needed to make decisions for. Two babies, each with its own possibilities.
Would they both be boys, or would they be girls, or would they be a boy and a girl? Would they both be Force-sensitive, would only one be Jedi material, or would neither of them be able to follow in their father’s footsteps? If both of them had the power of the Force, should she give them both up, or just one? And if she had to choose one to send to the Temple, how would she make that choice?
The Senator closed her aching eyes and bit her lower lip.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
She’d had plans to deal with this situation. If the child had possessed Jedi potential, she had intended to deliver it to the Order to help rebuild their numbers, which had taken a terrible hit over the course of the war. And if the child had lacked that potential, she had planned to make it appear like she had adopted the child so that she could return to Coruscant quickly and help bring the war to a close without being dogged by pointless scandals centered on the mystery of the child’s paternity.
Her mind might’ve changed after the birth but she’d felt confident in what she’d worked out for her child…and now her plans lay in ruins, because two children made everything look so different.
Tilting her head back she let her eyes drift open to stare up through the glass ceiling at the night sky. There were scattered smatterings of light in the dark murky gray above, but she knew they weren’t stars; Coruscant’s extreme light pollution blocked all the weaker celestial glimmers out. That left only the moving sparkles of massive cargo ships and transports entering and leaving the atmosphere the shine in the stars’ place.
I want to go home.
“My Lady?”
Padmé slowly turned her head to see her Handmaiden, Moteé, standing by her decorative fountain and wringing her hands in anxiety.
“Yes, Moteé, what is it?” she asked, her voice soft and hoarse.
“Would you like to go to bed now?” the Handmaiden inquired hopefully.
“…I might as well,” Padmé decided.
Eager to assist her, the Handmaiden hustled over and helped pull her up from the couch and guided her to the bedchambers with a hand to the Senator’s shoulder. Then Moteé quickly and efficiently stripped her employer from her somber dark gown, and dressed her in a dark green nightdress made from synth-silk and trimmed in soft lace. Padmé remained mostly passive throughout the procedure, at least until Moteé tried to remove the Japor pendant from around her neck.
“Leave that, Moteé,” Padmé sighed and brushed the other woman’s hands away. “You may go now.”
“But, my Lady!” Moteé protested. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. What if you suffer another attack?”
“Stay in the guest room, then,” the Senator wearily relented. “I need no more attending to tonight.” She sat on the edge of her bed and brushed back her loose dark curls from her expressionless face. “Before you go to bed, inform Captain Typho and the other Handmaidens that I desire to leave Coruscant for Naboo by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Y-yes,” Moteé squeaked. “Yes, my Lady. It will be done.”
Padmé barely even noticed as the Handmaiden curtsied and withdrew, dimming the lights as she departed. She sat on the corner of her bed with one hand resting on her pregnant belly and the other traced the carved lines of the wooden pendant while she stared into the shadows of her bedchambers. And then she forced herself to let go of the necklace so that she could awkwardly clamber onto the mattress and slide under the sheets.
It was late and her body ached with fatigue but she had a feeling that sleep would be a long time coming for her. The dark and silent room offered no distraction at all from her grief-mired thoughts. Nothing brought her comfort-not the pendant, not her children growing in her womb, and not her memories…
She thought of Dar’ti Vader. Strange for a Jedi, mysterious and grim and even aggressive…and yet capable of such a beautiful, almost boyish smile, with a rather mischievous and odd sense of humor. Fierce and relentless to his enemies, utterly loyal and dedicated to his few friends, and enigmatic to everyone else. A pilot, a mechanic, a swordsman, a general, a dear friend, and a soon-to-be father.
She remembered his visits during the war-sometimes glum, occasionally cheerful, and frequently weary but relieved to see her. Some of the times that he stopped by it was to share some tale of his adventures in the war or the share a meal with her and her staff, and on many of those instances he would bring Obi-Wan Kenobi along with him. But most of the time he would just come by himself for an hour or so and listen while she rambled on about the happenings in the Senate even though he could barely follow the political machinations that she was describing to him.
His attention was flattering. He certainly was drawn to her looks like many men in the government and the media were; he wouldn’t get so bashful and flustered when she gave him a random embrace or platonic kiss on the cheek, otherwise. And he had admitted to admiring her intelligence and her determination, much like some of her colleagues in the Senate. But, as a Jedi, he could appreciate her in a way that no one else could.
While she was no Jedi and had no connection to their mysterious Force, Vader claimed that her presence was soothing. After much pestering on her part, he’d awkwardly tried to explain what he sensed when he looked at her through the Force. She was like a forest glade that smelled of fresh rain, he’d muttered in embarrassment, green and alive and peaceful, illuminated by a golden shaft of sunlight.
Hearing that had taken her breath away for a minute and left the rest of that visit extremely awkward for them both, but more so for him. It was the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to her and it was something that she still treasured. And it hadn’t hurt coming from a young man that she’d found rather attractive.
If only he hadn’t been a Jedi…
Jedi were forbidden love and she was a highly visible public figure. Any hint of a romance between them would destroy their careers. So she had never allowed herself to think of Vader as the handsome man that he was, or behave in any way that wasn’t professional of platonic towards him. And she knew that he did the same.
…But now that he was dead, there was no point in lying to herself that she’d been attracted to him and that had their situations been different she would’ve liked to try moving past mere friendship to see if it would mature into love.
Padmé surprised herself with a fresh spurt of tears and she turned her face into her silken pillow to make sure that Moteé heard nothing.
I didn’t love him, not romantically-not like mother and father do, or Sola and Darred. There was too much distance between us and too much that we didn’t know about each other. But it still hurts so much!
If I had loved him, this would kill me…
***
The local sun rose bloody and red on the barren horizon and Sly Moore snarled at it through the cockpit viewscreen of her vessel. Her Umbaran eyes, evolved for low-light conditions, wouldn’t fare well during the brilliant daylight hours so she planned to wait for night to return before she began her explorations. If only she’d arrived earlier when the night had still been young on this part of the planet instead of just before the local dawn…
But her hurried departure from Coruscant and the cautious circuitous route that she’d taken to reach the Horuset System had robbed her of the ideal landing time. The moment that she’d sensed her Master’s demise, she’d known that she would have to flee or join him in death at the hands of the Jedi. She had taken his personal shuttle, a Theta-class, both to take advantage of its special resources and to protect the Sith artifacts that he’d stored in it from the hands of the Jedi Order.
The planet that she had landed upon happened to be the only world of the Horuset System; a world of leftover monsters and tombs, supposedly owned by the Commerce Guild. Republic charts listed the planet’s name as Moraband but that was a lie perpetrated by the Jedi. Its true name was Korriban, homeworld of the Sith species, birthplace of the Sith Lords, and spiritual heart of the ancient Sith Empire.
Here she had hoped to shelter for a time and gather knowledge of a more secure hiding place and of the Dark Side of the Force. But just after landing, she’d been struck by a strange and troubling vision. And now, as the Umbaran settled herself in the interior cabin, away from the crimson sunrise, and reflected upon what she’d seen.
It had begun with an unnerving shiver through the Force, which had prompted her to reach out with her power as Darth Sidious had taught her.
The following vision had shown her the Force seething with Dark Side energy-pain, suffering, deceit, betrayal, and death. Beautiful shadows of menace and toxic mists were all around her and Sly Moore had bathed herself in them. Her Master had wrought this through his masterful manipulations that not even the fabled Jedi had been aware of, and it was glorious.
But then there had been a tiny distant light. The white-blue light streaked in from above like a comet, plunged into the sea of Darkness, and then exploded. It was blindingly bright and seared away the shadows like a consuming fire. The Darkness shrieked and shied away from the Light and in the cacophony and chaos the Umbaran swore that she heard her Master cursing…and then nothing.
What does it all mean? Is it symbolic? Or does it signify some specific real event?
If only the Sith Lord had been more cautious in seeking to use that long-lost pawn. If only he had survived his grand duel with the wretched Jedi Council and succeeded in launching his grand betrayal. If only Darth Sidious had achieved his goal of dismantling the stagnant Republic and remaking it into a powerful and functional Empire under his insightful guiding hand.
If only her Master was still alive and capable of interpreting this message of the Force.
But he was gone. The man who had saved her from a desolate prison and the madness therein and taught her politics and the ways of power. The man who had given her a place at his side and the chance to reap incredible rewards with the success of his grand plan. The man who had shown her the truth of the Jedi.
The galaxy saw the Jedi as wise and noble dispensers of justice, but she knew better. They fed off their own prestige and used their powers to promote stasis and stagnation, and strike down those with wider and more complex views of the Force. The Jedi Order arrogantly believed that they were superior, that their strict and narrow ways were right, and that they should preserve the flawed Republic instead of allowing it to change and evolve.
The Jedi were monsters and they had slain her revered Master.
Fear and rage in equal measure boiled under her pale skin, but they did not overwhelm her. Sly Moore leashed them and controlled them, drawing strength and focus and power from the dark emotions. Invigorated and refocused, the Umbaran woman turned her thoughts away from the enigmatic vision and back towards what must now be done.
She would gather advanced knowledge of the Dark Side from Korriban and other worlds of the old Sith Empire, like Dromund Kaas or Ziost. Then she would gather up allies and pawns from the ruins of her Master’s plans to serve her own ends. She would build fresh plots and traps in the shadows the way that she had learned at Darth Sidious’s side. And when the time was right, she would act.
“I will avenge you, Master,” she swore aloud, her pale eyes glowing faintly yellow. “It will take time, but I will do it. I will shatter the Republic and I will see those wretched Jedi burn for what they have done. I will bring glory to the Sith once more, and I will make you proud. This I solemnly swear.”
And here's some more of this!
*throws it and runs*
Chapter 7
Confusion and Despair
Obi-Wan dropped out his trance and was immediately struck by a pounding headache. Slumping forward in his chair, he pressed a trembling hand to his sweaty forehead and breathed through the pain, which arced from the back of his skull to the front in pulsing waves. After a few minutes the ache receded some and he slowly sat up to take stock of his companions.
Mace Windu looked like death warmed-over with his dark brown skin coated in sweat and taking on a grayish tinge. Shaak Ti seemed marginally better off but she was still breathing heavily from the struggle with the evil spirit and also perhaps from a similar headache. Master Yoda appeared unaffected until he watched the elderly Jedi slide off his seat and nearly collapse on the floor.
“Yoda,” he croaked, his throat dry and scratchy, “are you alright?”
“Fine I shall be,” the tiny green Jedi wheezed. “Worry not. Rest I need. Nothing more.”
The Chief Healer swept into the room and began tending to Anakin’s pale prone form on the medical cot. Master Che barely spared them all a glance before briskly gesturing to them to exit the treatment room. Leaving her to her work, the four Jedi Masters slowly returned to the waiting room from earlier.
“So, before I turn myself over for surgery, may we have an explanation, Yoda?” Mace asked as he wearily lowered himself into a padded waiting room chair with his right arm tucked into his tunics.
“Siri told me that you’d been wounded, but-Star’s End!” Obi-Wan hissed as Mace’s arm shifted and revealed that his right hand and wrist were missing. “How did that happen?”
“Darth Sidious was a truly dangerous opponent,” Mace grunted. “I was fortunate to only lose my sword hand. The others were not so lucky.” He rubbed his left hand over his face to scrub away some of the perspiration. “Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, and Agen Kolar were all killed.”
“Mmm,” Yoda groaned from his seat on another chair and his long ears drooped. “Terrible news. May peace they find within the Force.”
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement and added his own silent wish for the souls of his lost colleagues. But this information led to a fresh problem for the High Council. With their loss, three seats, no four-since Anakin was out of commission and his membership had been so tenuous in the first place-had simultaneously been made vacant. How was the High Council supposed to lead the Order when a full third of its chairs were empty?
“But to explain…” Master Yoda pulled his gnarled walking cane into his lap and traced its irregular contours with is claws while he ordered his thoughts. “Early in the war a voice I began to hear in my meditations. Recognized it as Qui-Gon Jinn, I did, but at first believe it I did not. Yet persist his whispers did and ignore him I could not. No proof could I find of his spirit persisting within the Force that others could perceive, so kept it to myself I did. Much have I learned from him. Much more to learn there still is.”
Disappointment settled in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach. His old Master’s spirit had survived becoming one with the Force, yet until today he’d never heard a whisper of Qui-Gon Jinn’s voice. Yoda had been the one to find Qui-Gon’s ghost and commune with him for a few years now…not his student, Obi-Wan.
But it makes sense, he told himself. Yoda is far stronger in the Force than I, with centuries of experience. There is no better living Jedi for Master Qui-Gon to reach out to. I can’t even begin to compare.
“It was Master Jinn who called you back to Coruscant, wasn’t it?” Shaak Ti postulated.
“Correct,” Yoda confirmed with a nod. “Warned me, he did, and instructed me on what needed to be done. Protected the young one, he did, while we gathered and prepared to aid him.” The aged Master leaned back in the chair and cast Obi-Wan a weary but curious look. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, when did the young one’s true name you discover, hmm?”
“Ah, he decided to properly introduce himself to me as I was leaving for Utapau,” Obi-Wan replied with a ghost of a smile. “He also promised me an interesting story upon my return, which I assumed was an incentive for me to not fall to General Grievous’s deadly skills.” He paused to rub at his throbbing temples. “I wonder if what he’d planned to tell me had anything to do with that final vision that Master Qui-Gon showed us.”
“That was an interesting vision, wasn’t it,” Mace remarked and hissed sharply when he banged his right elbow on the armrest of his chair. “And while it is good that you found him alive, Obi-Wan, it presents us with a new problem as we’ve already formally reported Dar’ti Vader dead to the Senate. Now that it has turned out we were overly-hasty in doing so, what are we to do with him?”
“You reported him dead to the Senate?” Obi-Wan sputtered.
“With the death of the Supreme Chancellor we could not delay in making some report to the Senators,” Shaak Ti explained.
“I understand that, but-”
Vokara Che appeared in the doorway, abruptly halting any further discussion on the topic.
“Well, whatever you did worked in removing that Dark barrier and I’ve gotten him into a healing trance now, but the strain has left him in a bit worse shape than he was before. And even though he’s in the healing trance it’s not having as strong an effect as I’d like.” The blue-skinned Twi’lek grimaced sourly. “I’ve never seen a case like his before, so I won’t be able to give a clearer prognosis for him until I’ve observed him for a day or two, but right now I’d say he won’t heal much faster than he would without any Force healing. He’s young and was in good health before his injury so I don’t see why he won’t make a full recovery eventually.”
The Chief Healer immediately turned her attention exclusively on Mace Windu. “Now that that’s taken care of, you should come with me. I’m sure that Master Ti can update Master Yoda and Master Kenobi on the state of the Order perfectly well without your help. It’s far past time to perform your surgery.”
“Right she is,” Yoda said before Mace could protest. “Go you should. Shaak can assist us with what we must know. And plenty of time in the morning there will be for further discussion.”
Mace still looking willing to argue, but Yoda gave him a quelling look and the battered Human Master sighed and reluctantly moved to follow the Healer to where he would be treated.
“I will speak to you all tomorrow as soon as I can,” Mace promised as he departed.
“May the Force be with you,” Yoda murmured.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Mace vanished from the waiting room to have his amputation fully treated.
“Now,” Yoda turned to Shaak Ti, who had propped her shoulder against a wall instead of sitting like the rest of them had. “Assist me, if you would, to my quarters so that I might rest. Inform me of the high points you may on the way.”
“Of course, Master,” the red-skinned Togruta agreed and glanced over at Obi-Wan. “Will you be joining us, Obi-Wan?”
He wanted to agree, but his headache had started to intensify and he was starting to feel a touch dizzy. “I think I shall retire to my quarters for the night,” he said instead. “Master Tachi shared with me what she knew earlier.”
“That should be sufficient for now,” Shaak Ti agreed and carefully gathered Yoda into her arms. “I will seek you out in the morning, then.”
Murmuring his thanks, Obi-Wan levered himself out his seat and trudged back towards his apartment in the residence wing.
Since abandoning his post on Utapau he’d barely gotten any sleep or eaten more than a few emergency ration bars. Now, after driving off the Sith spirit, he was spent. He probably should go and eat a real meal before going to bed, but he just didn’t have the energy left to make a detour to the cafeteria. Moving purely on autopilot, he dragged his boots through the halls until he suddenly found himself in front of his own door.
Blinking wearily he pressed his palm against the scanner and nearly fell inside when the door hissed open. The common area was just as he’d left it before shipping out to hunt General Grievous, with a spread of spare parts on the caf table left over from one of Anakin’s little mechanical projects from before the Outer Rim sieges, which still hadn’t been cleaned up. Obi-Wan stared at the mess for a minute before tearing his gaze away and stumbling into his room.
He’ll be alright, he thought blearily as he discarded his robe, boots, and utility belt, simply dropping the things on the floor instead of putting them away properly. He’ll be spending a lot of time in the Halls of Healing, but he’ll be fine. And when he’s discharged, I’ll make sure that he finally cleans those components up…
Obi-Wan laid back on his cot, closed his eyes, and slept.
***
Shaak Ti glided back to her private quarters more than ready to turn in for the night after carrying Master Yoda to his own apartment. The future laid out before the Jedi Order still remained a treacherous and turbulent one, but with Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s return she felt fresh confidence that they would make it through the next few days successfully. After a good night’s sleep she would meet with the two Masters again and-
“Master Ti!”
The Togruta woman paused and straightened her sagging shoulders before turning to greet the Human Jedi Knight who had called out to her.
“Master Ti, what happened just now?” the fair-haired Jedi asked as he strode over to her. “What was that disturbance in the Force? All the Initiates on the dorm floor that I oversee felt it, too. Some even experienced flashes of visions.”
The Jedi Master was a bit startled by this news, but quickly divined the reason for the lesser Jedi’s report. Their battle against the Sith spirit had disturbed the Force and she shouldn’t be shocked that Jedi of all ages would’ve sensed it throughout the Temple. If she wasn’t so tired, she would’ve been very eager to collect accounts of these visions and study them.
“Calm yourself,” she advised the worried younger Jedi. “Nothing is amiss. Go reassure the younglings and record what they have sensed and seen, then-”
“Master!”
A male Mon Calamari with a blue-skinned female Nautolan hot on his heels rushed towards her from the opposite direction, their naturally large eyes unusually wide.
“Master Ti, did you feel it, too?” the Mon Cal blurted. His bulging fish-like eyes had pin-point pupils and his fin-like hands visibly trembled-clear signs of his distress. “It was like I was caught in a sudden storm, and then sunlight shone through.”
“For me it was more like music,” the blue Nautolan added, more outwardly composed than her Mon Calamari companion. “It began quiet and ominous with chaotic and threatening notes that built into a crashing crescendo, then it was soft and serene and calm-beautiful.”
Shaak Ti held up her hand to halt the other Jedi’s anxious chatter. “Please be calm, there is no need for alarm. Since it is growing late, please write down what you have experienced to be submitted to the Council of First Knowledge in the morning. Please share this instruction throughout the Temple and calm the fears of your fellow Jedi. Now-”
“Master!” yet another voice interrupted. “Master Ti!”
The newcomer was a green-skinned male Togruta that she recognized as the Knight that supervised the night shift of Temple’s communications spire. He was slightly taller than her and broader-shouldered, with larger montrals and shorter lekku, and he looked just as frazzled as the three other Jedi that she was already dealing with. But at least it seemed like he was seeking her aid on a different matter as he had a message board in his hand.
“Yes,” she invited as he drew nearer, “has the Senate deliver a fresh set of demands?”
Ever since the announcement to the Senate of the Supreme Chancellor’s demise the Temple had been bombarded by messages from various Senators and delegations. There were many frightened pleas for answers, angry demands for justice or at least a scapegoat to vilify, and even a few curious requests from Senators seeking to gain a new and advantageous position in the Senate by pledging to serve the Order’s interests. Shaak had spent most of the afternoon and early evening monitoring the messages and advising the communications staff in how to respond, interrupted only when she heard of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s arrival and when Vader-no, Anakin Skywalker was brought in by his former Master.
“Well, uh, nothing new, just more of the same,” he replied, a bit thrown by her question. “But-but we’re getting reports from the fronts regarding the disturbance in the Force and accounts of visions.”
“Oh?” Shaak blinked in surprise. “Which fronts?”
“All of them it seems like,” he answered, consulting his message board. “We’re getting backed up on taking signals from the Core all the way out the Outer Rim. And so far we’ve received requests from Master Plo Koon, Master Stass Allie, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Master Coleman Kcaj to move up the next meeting of the High Council to tomorrow if possible.”
Shaak Ti was taken aback by this news. It made sense that many of those in the Temple had sensed their struggle to banish the Dark spirit since they were so close nearby. And she could believe that a scattered few Jedi with above-average sensitivity would be able to detect it from off-planet. But from what she was hearing it sounded like nearly every Jedi in the Order had felt what had occurred from all over the entire galaxy.
“Tell the Council members that we shall meet noon tomorrow, local Coruscant time,” she decided. “Collect reports from all off-world Jedi and forward them to the Council of First Knowledge. And tell everyone not to worry. The High Council will make an announcement after all information has been gathered and considered.”
“Yes, Master,” the male Togruta said with a respectful bow and hurried off to carry out her instructions.
A few more minutes and Shaak finished calming the other Jedi and sent them on their way before others could appear and delay her further. Alone again she allowed her shoulders to droop and resumed her trek. And when she stepped inside her private quarters she relaxed fully and locked the door behind her.
Now to rest, she thought wearily as she began her evening routine. Hopefully nothing else will happen while I sleep. There’s more than enough to deal with already.
***
Padmé sat on her couch in her common room and stared blindly out over Coruscant’s glowing skyline and the tangled lanes of airborne vehicles that flowed through it. Her staff had helped her back to her penthouse from Bail’s ship just before the sun had set and then had coaxed her into eating, but she honestly couldn’t remember any of it. There hadn’t even been an out-of-body experience, just a blank stretch between waking up in the Tantive IV’s med bay and coming back to herself in her own residence.
The sensation of movement in her abdomen automatically brought one hand to rest over the spot. Then, less than a minute later, she felt a thump in the almost completely opposite side of her womb, and her hand obligingly shifted location. Before, she’d put off such occurrences as simply having a very active fetus; however, now she knew better.
Two. The knowledge buzzed through the numb haze that clung to her brain. There are two. Why did it never occur to me that I might carry twins?
Being that this was her first pregnancy, she had no first-hand experience on what was normal. During her sister’s two pregnancies she’d been incredibly busy being Queen of the Naboo. And she hadn’t even planned to get pregnant in the first place, which put her focus on covering it up to avoid a scandal that would hobble her political aims instead of contemplating her future role as a mother.
This changed things; made them more complicated. Now there were two lives that she needed to make decisions for. Two babies, each with its own possibilities.
Would they both be boys, or would they be girls, or would they be a boy and a girl? Would they both be Force-sensitive, would only one be Jedi material, or would neither of them be able to follow in their father’s footsteps? If both of them had the power of the Force, should she give them both up, or just one? And if she had to choose one to send to the Temple, how would she make that choice?
The Senator closed her aching eyes and bit her lower lip.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
She’d had plans to deal with this situation. If the child had possessed Jedi potential, she had intended to deliver it to the Order to help rebuild their numbers, which had taken a terrible hit over the course of the war. And if the child had lacked that potential, she had planned to make it appear like she had adopted the child so that she could return to Coruscant quickly and help bring the war to a close without being dogged by pointless scandals centered on the mystery of the child’s paternity.
Her mind might’ve changed after the birth but she’d felt confident in what she’d worked out for her child…and now her plans lay in ruins, because two children made everything look so different.
Tilting her head back she let her eyes drift open to stare up through the glass ceiling at the night sky. There were scattered smatterings of light in the dark murky gray above, but she knew they weren’t stars; Coruscant’s extreme light pollution blocked all the weaker celestial glimmers out. That left only the moving sparkles of massive cargo ships and transports entering and leaving the atmosphere the shine in the stars’ place.
I want to go home.
“My Lady?”
Padmé slowly turned her head to see her Handmaiden, Moteé, standing by her decorative fountain and wringing her hands in anxiety.
“Yes, Moteé, what is it?” she asked, her voice soft and hoarse.
“Would you like to go to bed now?” the Handmaiden inquired hopefully.
“…I might as well,” Padmé decided.
Eager to assist her, the Handmaiden hustled over and helped pull her up from the couch and guided her to the bedchambers with a hand to the Senator’s shoulder. Then Moteé quickly and efficiently stripped her employer from her somber dark gown, and dressed her in a dark green nightdress made from synth-silk and trimmed in soft lace. Padmé remained mostly passive throughout the procedure, at least until Moteé tried to remove the Japor pendant from around her neck.
“Leave that, Moteé,” Padmé sighed and brushed the other woman’s hands away. “You may go now.”
“But, my Lady!” Moteé protested. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. What if you suffer another attack?”
“Stay in the guest room, then,” the Senator wearily relented. “I need no more attending to tonight.” She sat on the edge of her bed and brushed back her loose dark curls from her expressionless face. “Before you go to bed, inform Captain Typho and the other Handmaidens that I desire to leave Coruscant for Naboo by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Y-yes,” Moteé squeaked. “Yes, my Lady. It will be done.”
Padmé barely even noticed as the Handmaiden curtsied and withdrew, dimming the lights as she departed. She sat on the corner of her bed with one hand resting on her pregnant belly and the other traced the carved lines of the wooden pendant while she stared into the shadows of her bedchambers. And then she forced herself to let go of the necklace so that she could awkwardly clamber onto the mattress and slide under the sheets.
It was late and her body ached with fatigue but she had a feeling that sleep would be a long time coming for her. The dark and silent room offered no distraction at all from her grief-mired thoughts. Nothing brought her comfort-not the pendant, not her children growing in her womb, and not her memories…
She thought of Dar’ti Vader. Strange for a Jedi, mysterious and grim and even aggressive…and yet capable of such a beautiful, almost boyish smile, with a rather mischievous and odd sense of humor. Fierce and relentless to his enemies, utterly loyal and dedicated to his few friends, and enigmatic to everyone else. A pilot, a mechanic, a swordsman, a general, a dear friend, and a soon-to-be father.
She remembered his visits during the war-sometimes glum, occasionally cheerful, and frequently weary but relieved to see her. Some of the times that he stopped by it was to share some tale of his adventures in the war or the share a meal with her and her staff, and on many of those instances he would bring Obi-Wan Kenobi along with him. But most of the time he would just come by himself for an hour or so and listen while she rambled on about the happenings in the Senate even though he could barely follow the political machinations that she was describing to him.
His attention was flattering. He certainly was drawn to her looks like many men in the government and the media were; he wouldn’t get so bashful and flustered when she gave him a random embrace or platonic kiss on the cheek, otherwise. And he had admitted to admiring her intelligence and her determination, much like some of her colleagues in the Senate. But, as a Jedi, he could appreciate her in a way that no one else could.
While she was no Jedi and had no connection to their mysterious Force, Vader claimed that her presence was soothing. After much pestering on her part, he’d awkwardly tried to explain what he sensed when he looked at her through the Force. She was like a forest glade that smelled of fresh rain, he’d muttered in embarrassment, green and alive and peaceful, illuminated by a golden shaft of sunlight.
Hearing that had taken her breath away for a minute and left the rest of that visit extremely awkward for them both, but more so for him. It was the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to her and it was something that she still treasured. And it hadn’t hurt coming from a young man that she’d found rather attractive.
If only he hadn’t been a Jedi…
Jedi were forbidden love and she was a highly visible public figure. Any hint of a romance between them would destroy their careers. So she had never allowed herself to think of Vader as the handsome man that he was, or behave in any way that wasn’t professional of platonic towards him. And she knew that he did the same.
…But now that he was dead, there was no point in lying to herself that she’d been attracted to him and that had their situations been different she would’ve liked to try moving past mere friendship to see if it would mature into love.
Padmé surprised herself with a fresh spurt of tears and she turned her face into her silken pillow to make sure that Moteé heard nothing.
I didn’t love him, not romantically-not like mother and father do, or Sola and Darred. There was too much distance between us and too much that we didn’t know about each other. But it still hurts so much!
If I had loved him, this would kill me…
***
The local sun rose bloody and red on the barren horizon and Sly Moore snarled at it through the cockpit viewscreen of her vessel. Her Umbaran eyes, evolved for low-light conditions, wouldn’t fare well during the brilliant daylight hours so she planned to wait for night to return before she began her explorations. If only she’d arrived earlier when the night had still been young on this part of the planet instead of just before the local dawn…
But her hurried departure from Coruscant and the cautious circuitous route that she’d taken to reach the Horuset System had robbed her of the ideal landing time. The moment that she’d sensed her Master’s demise, she’d known that she would have to flee or join him in death at the hands of the Jedi. She had taken his personal shuttle, a Theta-class, both to take advantage of its special resources and to protect the Sith artifacts that he’d stored in it from the hands of the Jedi Order.
The planet that she had landed upon happened to be the only world of the Horuset System; a world of leftover monsters and tombs, supposedly owned by the Commerce Guild. Republic charts listed the planet’s name as Moraband but that was a lie perpetrated by the Jedi. Its true name was Korriban, homeworld of the Sith species, birthplace of the Sith Lords, and spiritual heart of the ancient Sith Empire.
Here she had hoped to shelter for a time and gather knowledge of a more secure hiding place and of the Dark Side of the Force. But just after landing, she’d been struck by a strange and troubling vision. And now, as the Umbaran settled herself in the interior cabin, away from the crimson sunrise, and reflected upon what she’d seen.
It had begun with an unnerving shiver through the Force, which had prompted her to reach out with her power as Darth Sidious had taught her.
The following vision had shown her the Force seething with Dark Side energy-pain, suffering, deceit, betrayal, and death. Beautiful shadows of menace and toxic mists were all around her and Sly Moore had bathed herself in them. Her Master had wrought this through his masterful manipulations that not even the fabled Jedi had been aware of, and it was glorious.
But then there had been a tiny distant light. The white-blue light streaked in from above like a comet, plunged into the sea of Darkness, and then exploded. It was blindingly bright and seared away the shadows like a consuming fire. The Darkness shrieked and shied away from the Light and in the cacophony and chaos the Umbaran swore that she heard her Master cursing…and then nothing.
What does it all mean? Is it symbolic? Or does it signify some specific real event?
If only the Sith Lord had been more cautious in seeking to use that long-lost pawn. If only he had survived his grand duel with the wretched Jedi Council and succeeded in launching his grand betrayal. If only Darth Sidious had achieved his goal of dismantling the stagnant Republic and remaking it into a powerful and functional Empire under his insightful guiding hand.
If only her Master was still alive and capable of interpreting this message of the Force.
But he was gone. The man who had saved her from a desolate prison and the madness therein and taught her politics and the ways of power. The man who had given her a place at his side and the chance to reap incredible rewards with the success of his grand plan. The man who had shown her the truth of the Jedi.
The galaxy saw the Jedi as wise and noble dispensers of justice, but she knew better. They fed off their own prestige and used their powers to promote stasis and stagnation, and strike down those with wider and more complex views of the Force. The Jedi Order arrogantly believed that they were superior, that their strict and narrow ways were right, and that they should preserve the flawed Republic instead of allowing it to change and evolve.
The Jedi were monsters and they had slain her revered Master.
Fear and rage in equal measure boiled under her pale skin, but they did not overwhelm her. Sly Moore leashed them and controlled them, drawing strength and focus and power from the dark emotions. Invigorated and refocused, the Umbaran woman turned her thoughts away from the enigmatic vision and back towards what must now be done.
She would gather advanced knowledge of the Dark Side from Korriban and other worlds of the old Sith Empire, like Dromund Kaas or Ziost. Then she would gather up allies and pawns from the ruins of her Master’s plans to serve her own ends. She would build fresh plots and traps in the shadows the way that she had learned at Darth Sidious’s side. And when the time was right, she would act.
“I will avenge you, Master,” she swore aloud, her pale eyes glowing faintly yellow. “It will take time, but I will do it. I will shatter the Republic and I will see those wretched Jedi burn for what they have done. I will bring glory to the Sith once more, and I will make you proud. This I solemnly swear.”