Jedi Blood

the sequel to Of Renegades and Jedi

By Danakin Skywalker

(I'll keep this short and sweet. I don't own Star Wars, or any of the lovely George Lucas-created characters, places, objects, etc. If you didn't know that already… well, that's sad. I do, however, own my original characters, and if you've read Of Renegades you know that the plotlines surround those characters, as well as some of Lucas'. I promise they aren't completely terrible, and you might like them despite the obvious dominance of original characters, if you give them a chance.

I do hope you read and enjoy. Reviews are always welcome.)

PROLOGUE.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in the cantina and took another tentative sip of the mysterious blue liquid. His keen blue-green eyes surveyed the area, but he saw nothing shadier than usual, nothing to explain the strange stirrings he'd felt in the Force for the past few days. He had just returned from the Lars' homestead, keeping a distant eye on their young charge, Luke. At first, he had thought – in his strange, sleepless haze – that the stirrings had been Anakin's presence, but after blinking his bleary eyes and taking a few deep breaths, he realized that his old padawan was nowhere nearby. It was a little disappointing, if Obi-Wan was honest with himself. Honesty was something he didn't like much anymore, despite how important it had been to him once. But that was a long time ago…

He briefly brushed the datacard in his utility pouch with two fingers, remembering a few days earlier when Kasen Johl had arrived at his home, excited and refreshed, nothing like the haunted young man he'd sent on a journey of soul-searching. Kasen had become a man in the months he'd gone away, truly growing up in every sense of the word. He towered over Obi-Wan, and though Kasen wasn't married (as he'd allowed his old friend Keelee Sarai Flasgo to suspect), he had been busy. He'd been following rumors of a Jedi holdout tunnel somewhere in the Outer Rim. And when he didn't uncover anything on his own, the boy decided to come and find Kenobi and try to rally him to the cause.

Obi-Wan had gracefully declined, admitting that he just wasn't ready for that sort of adventure just yet.

He sighed, and looked around again. Someone familiar was nearby, he could feel it, but in his tired (and slightly drunk) fog, he couldn't pinpoint exactly whose presence it was. This cantina was sort of a shelter for him as of late. Somewhere to come and forget his woes, where nobody cared what was going on with his life, and he was fine with that. Everything was safer that way, of course. Yet less than a year ago, that safe feeling had all changed, when a silent stranger had slipped him the datacard that had turned his world upside down.

He hadn't expected the news he had received. Not at all… Not in the slightest.

Anakin was alive.

Alive, and was also the right-hand-man of Emperor Palpatine himself.

Darth Vader was really Anakin.

Obi-Wan thought his past had died on Mustafar that night; that the haunting would leave, that he would one day be able to sleep again.

But hearing about the Battle of Kashyyyk had changed all that.

Why would Jedi be foolish enough to want to confront Darth Vader? Obi-Wan could not understand. Even less now, knowing who Darth Vader really was.

Just thinking about it again made him feel utterly nauseous, so he sat the glass down on the counter, and made his way to the nearest refresher station, hoping to hold down his meager lunch and the strange blue syrup that somehow calmed his agitated nerves.

But rather than throwing up, Obi-Wan just rested inside, away from noise and clamor and alcohol. He was starting to drink too much of it, he knew, and if Qui-Gon was watching him… well, if Qui-Gon were alive, he'd be in trouble. For now, the spirit of the man he'd once revered as father and friend couldn't do much about his drinking habits. Obi-Wan let out a humorless, slightly bitter laugh at the thought. Bang-bang-bang, a fist rapping on the door created a startling sound that reverberated through the room. Obi-Wan's head was starting to spin a little at this point, and he just wanted it to stop.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang…

Exasperated, he lifted himself up and trudged out of the refresher after a few more loud, forceful knocks on the door from the outside. He walked past a disgruntled Bith, who was obviously tired of waiting.

Obi-Wan made his way back to his seat, back to his strong drink. He had it halfway to his lips when the old sense of painful reality hit him; so hard that he threw his small glass across the room, splashing the already-dirty counter and the floor below with blue alcohol. He threw his now-empty hand to his chest, the other to his head, staggering from his seat at the bar.

A few patrons looked angry by his outburst, but a man with red-gold curly hair leapt from his seat and rushed to his side.

"Sir, are you all…" The man stopped, resting a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, eyes widening. "Wait a minute. O…"

Obi-Wan lifted bloodshot, tormented eyes to the young man, holding a calloused hand up to motion the familiar face to silence.

"Can I help you get home?" Kind gray-blue eyes were searching Obi-Wan's face now, and a strong arm was around his shoulders.

Obi-Wan just nodded, still holding his head.

The two men trudged silently out of the cantina after the curly-haired fellow had slipped the barkeep a few credit chips.

"Anton," Kenobi finally gasped, moving so that the younger man no longer shouldered his weight.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"You must tell Keelee something for me."

"Sure, Master. What is it?"

"Anakin…"

Anton frowned. "What about Anakin?"

"Tell Keelee that he's alive. And that she must learn how to shield herself more carefully."

Anton's eyes widened, but he nodded.

"I will tell her, Obi-Wan."

"Take care of her, Anton. Keep her hidden and safe."

"I have and always will to the best of my ability, sir. I promise."

"Good."

"Would you like me to take you home, Obi-Wan?"

"That would be fine, thank you."

"You're welcome."