A/N: This is my first non-Harry Potter fanfic! I wrote this story on an old computer years ago, but that computer crashed and I never got to post it. I had to rewrite it, and it's come out with basically the same plotline, with some minor changes and a LOT more details. For anybody who's a Star Wars fan, this is really AU, but it doesn't alter the events of anything within the span of the two trilogies. When Mace Windu is blasted out of the window in the fight with Chancellor Palpatine, he survives. See what happens! Please review, and leave your honest comments, even if you hate it!
Desperation
The ground was hard and cold, and there were fireflies zipping around before his eyes. After a few moments, he registered that he was breathing, and very hard at that. He was also dripping an ice-cold sweat, his robes drenched, and shaking violently. Every few moments, he spasmed. His eyes were shut tight, streaming tears, and with his left hand he gripped his right arm, or what was left of it. Blood poured from his head, staining the brown of his robes to a dirty black. Strangled cries escaped his mouth, cries of a desperate, dying man clinging to his last heartbeat. Curled up in an alley, leaning against the wall of a tall building, Mace Windu was in serious pain, but all he registered was that he was breathing.
He had been blasted out of Chancellor Palpatine's office in a battle where he had lost his lightsaber arm. In order to even hope to survive, he had summoned every last bit of the Force he could control to his body. Master Windu had felt himself seize up, felt every muscle contract and refuse to release, and the next thing he knew he was lying on the cold, hard ground somewhere, breathing. And he was certainly relieved to be breathing.
A little boy approached him. "Sir, do you need any help? Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but to be fair, he was a very small boy. Master Windu, of course, could not respond.
"MOM!" the little boy called, running in the opposite direction. "There's a man out here! He's hurt, come fast!"
Rolling up her sleeves, a pretty woman in a simple dress, the boy's mother, stepped outside of a nearby house.
"Oh dear," she said, looking horrified. "Arc, my darling, you're going to need to be a very strong boy right now. Help me get this poor man into the house."
It took quite some time, but with a magnificent effort and much sweat, blood, and tears, the pair managed to drag Master Windu into their home. Carefully (but not carefully enough, they knew by his loud scream) they laid him onto a small bed with thin, rough sheets. However uncomfortable it was, Master Windu collapsed and shuddered with relief for anything that was not the cold, hard ground.
"Arc, dear, please could you go get me a wet washcloth and some plaster bandages? I'm sure we have some," said the woman, not taking her eyes off Master Windu. The boy obliged, and in moments he returned, arms full of bandages and a washcloth in his hand. "Thank you, lovely."
The boy's mother proceeded to tear away Master Windu's sleeve and expose a blunt stub where there should have been a right hand. She took in a shuddering breath, and whispered for Arc, her son, to leave the room. Then, she began gently pressing the washcloth to every cut or bruise on Master Windu's body. His cries and moans became more prominent the more she touched him, and every time he made a sound the woman murmured her apologies to him.
"Is it done, mom?" Arc finally whispered from the threshold. Master Windu was now lying still, his breaths coming raggedly.
"Yes, I think so. I think he'll be all right. It's going to be hard for him, though, living without a right hand," she said with a sad smile.
The little boy, Arc, lifted up his right hand and stared at it, wiggling his fingers. "Yeah, you're right. It's okay, though, 'cause we'll take care of him, right?"
She smiled tenderly at her son. "Of course, Arc. We'll take care of him like one of our own. He'll be family. Now let's let him rest. It'll be a while before he gets up again."
Several hours passed, and Master Windu didn't move a muscle. Impatient, Arc often came to sit by him, tapping his fingers on the bed or standing in the corner, just staring at him. After a while, he came out into the small living room.
"Mom," he whined. "It's time to sleep. I'm tired, and he's on my bed."
She laughed lightly and stroked her son's hair. "Arc, our friend there is going to stay on your bed until he's well enough to get up. Come on, now, not moments ago you said we would take care of him right?" She raised her eyebrows at him, a smile playing on her lips.
Sighing loudly, Arc nodded. "Fine," he said in a glum tone. "Where do I sleep, then?"
"Why don't we do this, dear? Why don't we set up some old sheets on the floor in my room, and then I'll sleep on the floor, and you can sleep on my bed?"
Arc shook his head. "You won't like it, Mom."
His mother smiled widely. "Oh, my dear boy, it's just for a while. Just until our friend wakes up."
Brow furrowed, Arc nodded. "All right. Good night, Mom."
"Good night, Arc."
Master Windu woke up the next afternoon, grunting in pain but almost completely aware of himself and his surroundings. He was more than a little surprised to find himself in what looked like a very shabby home, rather than consumed into the depths of the Force. The sheets under him were mussed and slightly dirty, and the room was cramped, tiny, and empty. He wondered who else was in the house with him.
"Hello?" he called. As he attempted to sit up and climb off the bed, pain screamed out of every inch of his body and he fell back down, groaning. Someone came running.
"Oh, you're awake! Arc, dear, he's awake! Arc, come here!" It was a woman's voice. If the pain had not been blinding him, Master Windu would have tried to see and acknowledge her. "Sir?" she said loudly. "Sir, my name is Fairlee Burr. You're safe here, don't worry. We found you outside, in a terrible state last night. Can you tell me your name, sir?"
He struggled to mumble, "I need to get to the Jedi temple. The council…"
Arc and his mother exchanged a dark look. "The Jedi temple, sir?" said Fairlee tentatively.
Master Windu nodded painfully. "I must. The Jedi, they…have to know…what to do," he grunted.
Fairlee opened her mouth to contradict him, but he continued, "A traitor…there's a traitor…Palpatine…"
With a heavy sigh, Fairlee sat next to him on the bed and touched his whole arm. "Sir, you are correct about that. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine took over the Republic and began a new regime, starting with Coruscant itself. Sadly, we already lived on the poorer side of the capital, but they've already stripped us of what little we had."
Horror, utter horror spread over Master Windu's face. "This…this cannot be possible! What about the Jedi?"
"They were betraying the Senate, he said." She shrugged. "There's only him now, and the Senate backs him. It doesn't matter to people like us, though; we're just bystanders in the whole picture. I guess it might matter to the Jedi or some of the politicians who didn't want this. My only concerns are whether we get to eat and whether my boy grows up healthy and safe."
"But…what happened to the Jedi?" he demanded desperately.
Again, Fairlee shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Why…?" She eyed his clothes, noticing the brown robes. "Could you…be a Jedi?" she whispered in awe.
Groaning, Master Windu nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am. I have to get back to the Jedi temple. Please." He made to stand up, but Fairlee shook her head and pressed him back down to the bed.
"No, sir—I mean, Master. You have to stay here. The Jedi temple went down in flames last night. I-I'm sorry. It must have been a very special, holy place for you." She looked genuinely apologetic; Master Windu could see and register her now.
She was thin, but not unfed, and very pretty. Her tangly brown hair framed a rosy, heart-shaped face. Her eyes were gray, like the pair belonging to a little boy standing in the threshold, staring at him. The boy seemed to realize that Master Windu had noticed him, and he walked up to the bed cautiously.
"Master Jedi, sir?" he began softly. "You're welcome in our home, uh, sir." He looked at his mother for approval, and she smiled widely at her son.
Mimicking her smile, Master Windu extended his hand to the boy. "Hello, there. What's your name?"
"Arc," he answered, and took his hand.
Instantly, Master Windu received a sharp jolt that seemed to come from inside him, and then a sense of warm comfort. Like a balloon, he felt the Force swell up inside, taking hold and guiding him to what he knew was the true path he had to take.
"Mrs. Burr—"
"Please, call me Fairlee," she interrupted with a smile.
"Fairlee, then," he said, grunting as he sat up. She moved to stop him, but he shook his head. "No, no. This is important." He looked her in the eyes. "I trust you know of the Jedi and our strong relationship with the Force? Well, we aren't born knowing. Jedi are often random people who have simply found themselves strong with the Force, and sometimes many people who could have become Jedi are never found and never realize."
"I see." She nodded. "But why are you telling me this?"
He took a deep breath. "Your son, Arc. The Force is strong with him."
Shocked, Fairlee gasped. "Really? Wh-what does that mean?"
"It means that I can train him to become a Jedi. And if what you say is true, if the Jedi order has fallen, then I beg you to allow me to do so. We need Jedi in this world to restore the balance, and I must do my duty."
Still looking slightly flustered, Fairlee looked at her son. "If you want to, my dear."
Master Windu looked at Arc as well, and offered him a smile. "Would you like to be trained as a Jedi, Arc?"
Without a second thought, Arc grinned and nodded enthusiastically. The boy's innocence reminded him of someone else. He flinched, looking down at his stub of an arm. This would be different. It had to be.
After many years, Master Windu still lived in the Burrs' home, still trying to stay out of the Empire's way. Every time he heard it, he found himself tutting at Palpatine's unoriginal name for his regime. When he first began to train Arc, he'd tried to distance the boy from his mother, but they were still living in the same house. Once, while making a knife float in the air, Arc had been startled by a bird that flew into him, and the knife had hurled itself toward Fairlee. Master Windu had managed to stop it from reaching her, but her scream reached Arc so strongly that he swore he felt the Force leave everything for a fraction of a second to go to the terrified boy. The incident had put Master Windu into a new world of meditation and self-thought, from which he had emerged with a different mindset.
The Jedi council's failure with Anakin Skywalker, Master Windu decided, had been entirely their fault. Their failure with the protection of the Senate had been their fault as well. Just as Master Yoda had said, they had all been arrogant and blind, and that fault was theirs as well. After the incident with Fairlee and the knife, Master Windu had vowed to mentor Arc differently, using his character instead of forcing him to abandon it. He still remained strong with the Jedi code, however, firm in his belief that attachment, fear, and anger were paths to the dark side.
"You have to understand, Arc," he told him gently after the knife incident. "Your mother isn't going to be around forever. No one, nothing is. Do you understand that?"
Arc's eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to repress.
"Arc," he continued. "In your mind, in your world, only you will last forever. Your essence, it will be your forever. Understand that. When everyone and everything is gone, grieve for them. Grieve for them, but do not forget that you are still here, in your forever."
Every day he told his Padawan learner this, and every day Arc grew stronger, filled with compassion and calm. His mother's presence in the house gave him a foundation upon which to build his essence that would last forever. Arc and Master Windu meditated together for hours and hours at a time, not eating for days, surviving solely from the Force. Master Windu himself learned incredible things. And he learned that he cared about this boy. A few years later, when Fairlee died of an illness that had swept the slums of Coruscant, Arc had cried, but her death gave him more strength, and Master Windu found himself to be the boy's father. And a very caring one, at that.
The time had become bleaker than ever. A nineteen-year-old Arc had been able to find a tiny job that would fill their bellies and keep him unnoticed. Quite often, the Empire held raids to search for a rumored organization called the Alliance with the sole objective of overthrowing the regime. That very morning, stormtroopers' boots were heard outside the Burrs' home, and Arc jumped out of bed and ran into Master Windu's room, hissing as loudly as he could without making too much noise, "Raid! Master, there's a raid! Get up, quick!"
Within moments, they were out of bed in the living room, legs crossed and heads bowed, breathing evenly and together as one. Their power and will was enough to make each stormtrooper pass the house without noticing it, just as they did every time a raid occurred. After the sound of thumping feet faded away, Arc opened his eyes.
"We didn't feel them coming that time," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't even know they were coming until I heard them. Did you, Master?"
Master Windu shook his head as well.
"We'll have to meditate more, Master. Maybe two more hours—"
"No, Arc," said Master Windu.
"But Master—"
"No," he repeated firmly. "I have an important job for you, and we'll need to use our time to train much differently."
Arc raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Yes, Master?"
Standing up, Master Windu moved to sit on the wooden chair in the corner, and Arc pulled another chair over and sat facing him. For several moments, Master Windu sat in silent contemplation.
"I believe will soon be ready for this," he finally said.
"What is it, Master?"
"You know, of course, of the Alliance."
"Yes, Master, I do." Arc tilted his head and frowned. "You don't mean to say…?"
"Yes, I do, Arc. This is a dark and difficult time, and the galaxy needs Jedi to restore order and balance. After a few monthsYou will go to the Alliance, present yourself, and become a powerful asset for them. There was once a prophecy of the Jedi that said there would be a Chosen One, who would bring peace to the galaxy. Whether or not you are the one from the prophecy, you must take it upon yourself to do this job, because even if you aren't, this galaxy cannot wait any longer."
Slowly, Arc nodded. "Will you be coming with me, Master?"
"No, Arc, and I apologize for that. Now that I've trained you, I plan on searching the galaxy for signs of any other Jedi. My feelings tell me that you and I are not the only ones." He sighed; he had grown very tired over the years. "I think I'll meditate now. Go into town and into the largest bar there, and try to find someone selling crystal. We'll need to build lightsabers." Closing his eyes, he waved Arc away.
The bars in town were very sketchy and could be unsafe at times. Many people stood glancing around with their hands in their pockets, but these were the innocent ones, watching their backs and toying with their self-defense weapons in their pockets, like Arc was doing. He kept his eyes peeled for telltale signs of vendors: large coats probably filled with pockets for carrying money, the casual and secret slip of hands under the tables, the ones the bartenders were pointedly gazing away from. Finally, his eyes passed over a table from which a man stood up and left, while the other man at the table patted his large coat. Slowly and as inconspicuously as he could manage, Arc made his way over to the table, keeping his hands visible so that the vendor wouldn't scarper after seeing him.
"Hey," he said to the man, who glanced at him and nodded, refusing to make eye-contact.
When he was sure the man wasn't going to say anything, Arc continued, "I need something, and I can make the trade now." Short and to the point, like his Master had instructed.
Twitching slightly, the man nodded, his head still down. "Listening," he muttered in a raspy voice.
Slightly unsure but still trying to appear confident, Arc sat and looked down his nose at the man, who chanced another glance at his buyer but quickly looked away, as if hoping Arc hadn't seen.
"I'll pay you one hundred for fifty pieces of crystal," Arc said. There was only one type currency in the black market, and it had no name so as to better hide from the Empire's eye. Arc couldn't tell if the man was thinking it through or not; he still wore a blank expression as he gazed off into nowhere. Finally, he gave Arc a fleeting look in the eye and nodded.
"We'll make half the trade here, half the trade outside," he said under his breath. "And I want one hundred-twenty, and I'll give you fifty-two pieces."
Right away, Arc nodded. With his eyes on the table, the man stood up, reached into his oversized coat and pulled out a little brown bag, dropped it impressively inconspicuously on his chair and left, whispering, "Follow me in four minutes."
Watching as the man sauntered away, Arc called for a waitress and ordered a drink. Might as well, he figured. He didn't come to bars often, anyway. He noticed, as he gazed around the dark room, a woman sitting at the bar, with a mass of red hair that fell in elegant waves past her shoulders. Looking at her pretty face and gaudy attire, he realized that she must be close to the Empire to have the wealth to look and dress the way she did. He stood up and walked around the table, grabbing the brown paper bag and shoving it in the coat he had brought for this occasion only, and traipsed casually up to the bar.
"Hello," he said, and to his surprise, she smiled warmly at him.
"Hello."
"Oh," he said, unable to contain the surprise from showing on his face.
Inquisitively, she cocked her eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Oh no, nothing, I was just surprised that you spoke so nicely to me," Arc replied.
She raised both her eyebrows now. "I just said hello."
Laughing, even more surprised, Arc explained, "You just don't look like most people do. I'm sure you know what I mean. I was expecting you to be colder when I said hi."
Again, she smiled. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."
Nodding absently, Arc shrugged. "I suppose it is both, yeah."
This time it was she who let out the surprised laugh. "Honest. I like that."
Smiling, he replied, "Thank you. I've actually got to go now, but I'd love to talk to you again."
Mysteriously, she said, "You know where to find me," and gave him a dazzling smile.
He walked away breathlessly, going after the man he was making the trade with. They met outside the bar two buildings down and four across, and Arc put the bag of money in a mailbox about six feet away from the man, and then walked away without even looking at him. He trusted the man got his money, and Arc now had his lightsaber crystals, a mission, and a beautiful woman on his mind.
The lightsabers were built in no time, and it wasn't long before Master Windu was able to actually have a fair fight with Arc, rather than one where he dropped his Padawan learner to the ground in moments. Several times, he had actually complimented Arc's techniques and quick learning. Meanwhile, Arc found himself dropping by the bar many times during the week, with excuses of running various errands. As some time passed, they stopped meeting at the bar and tried to find more private, hidden places to be with each other. Although Master Windu had grown much more open minded since he'd first started training Arc, his views on Jedi marriage or even courting had not changed even the slightest; he still believed attachment was one of the most unhealthy and dangerous things for a Jedi. With Fairlee, it had been different, because Arc's love for his mother had been something Master Windu could help him develop into mere compassion and care, rather than attachment. Lust and romantic love, on the other hand, were too powerful, corrupting, and uncontrollable. So, Arc kept these meetings with the beautiful woman with wonderful red hair a deep secret.
"What do you think the sky looks like on Naboo?" she asked as she lay across his chest, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. After a year together, they were planning on taking a trip. Arc was working on an excuse to give to Master Windu.
"I bet it looks beautiful," he said, stroking her hair. For a moment, he hesitated. "Mary," he said tentatively, "I've been thinking about…Alderaan."
"Alderaan?" she repeated, pulling away and staring at him as though he'd lost his mind. "The planet of total political chaos, you mean?"
It was a tricky subject. For one thing, Mary had no idea that Arc was a Jedi. It wasn't that he didn't trust her; it was that Jedi were unheard of these days, and Arc knew that if anybody in the Empire heard of him, he'd be executed instantly. Because of this, he hadn't told Mary anything about this other life he had—the only thing she knew of was his job he worked to keep up his house and support his old family friend. She didn't know he planned to go to Alderaan anyway to fulfill the mission his Master had given him. Ideally, Arc would like if he could somehow persuade Mary to come with him without revealing his secret, but she was a smart woman.
"Okay, if you don't want to go to Alderaan," he took a deep breath, "we won't go to Alderaan. It's-it's just my mother's family descends from there, and I've always wanted to go live my roots." Of course, this was a total lie; he was desperate.
Tenderly, Mary smiled and stroked his cheek. "Oh, Arc," she sighed. "I understand. But right now, Alderaan is really unsafe to visit. With your solemn attitude, some Empire bastard might think you're a Jedi, and kill you. Or on the other hand, they'll see us—and damn right, we look strong—they'll try to recruit us."
He cringed on the inside. "It was a risk I was willing to take," he said, holding his breath, praying for her to believe his lie. "If you don't want to, though, it's okay. We won't go."
She nodded, still smiling sympathetically at him, and returned to her drink.
He was going to marry her. He didn't care what Master Windu said; it had been far too long. His relationship was at a standstill and he couldn't put off the trip to Alderaan much longer. One morning after several weeks of stress and anxiety, Arc woke up and decided. He was going to marry her.
He knew Master Windu would disapprove. What he didn't know, however, was that Master Windu would take disapproving to an entirely new level. As his Master vehemently refused to accept his decision, confidently forbade him from doing such a thing, strongly and firmly stated that if he did, he would have to leave the Jedi practice, Arc screamed and yelled across the house at the calm man.
"You are not doing this, Arc," he said.
"YES, I AM! I LOVE HER!"
"Arc, I will leave. I'll go to Alderaan myself, and I will die there, fighting for what you should have fought."
"GO, THEN! It's your own fault anyway. Your stupid Jedi code that has no purpose anymore because we live in a world where we have to MAKE THINGS UP AS WE GO! YOU CANNOT LIVE BY A CODE ANYMORE MASTER!"
"Arc," sighed Master Windu. "You know I have grown past much of the code, but there are several components in which I have complete faith. I agree with a good portion of it. You cannot and will not marry this girl. Attachment is not healthy for anybody, least of all a Jedi."
"No! I'm going to marry her, and we're going to go away to a beautiful place like Naboo, somewhere they won't touch us. I don't want to be part of this war! Just forget it! Leave me alone!" And with that, Arc stormed out of the small hut, carrying a minimalistic bag. He never came back.
He wed Mary under a little arch of white and golden flowers, in the presence of no one but an old marriage official and a tiny woman—Mary's cousin. Without waiting another moment, they took off to Naboo in a shabby ship that Arc spent four months' wage on. They were in love and blissful, and their love presented them with a little new person, a baby girl he called Fair, after his mother. She was born with a tiny head of rich, red hair.
Three years passed, and Arc never once dwelled on his lost Jedi life. Though he meditated for hours at a time every day (and sometimes Mary joined him, holding his hands and smiling), he accepted happily that he would never have to face the dangers that Master Windu had told him. He accepted calmly that Master Windu must have died by now, and knew that he, Arc, never would die a painful death.
On Fair's third birthday, they celebrated with a small cake and a ride on the lake by their house. When Arc drew his baby girl close to him, he felt something. Something that he had never felt before, but he knew instantly what it was. He felt the Force, pulsing through her body, stronger than it had ever been in his. In mere moments, guilt and sadness flooded him, for the life he knew, though he didn't want to live, should have. For the lives he, with his powers, could have saved. And hope, for the lives she could save with hers.
"Mary, I have to do this."
"You dirty liar." The woman's hair was a tangly mess, and her face was puffy from her tears.
"I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, or even understand. I don't even want you to. But I have to do this, and I'm going to."
"YOU DIRTY LIAR! I LOVED you, Arc! How could you do this to me?"
"Mary, I can never apologize enough. I can never make up for what I've done to you, but I can make up for what I did to my Master, what I did to the galaxy, by doing this. And I have to do that."
"If you think," he gasped, her hands shaking, "that I'm going to let you take our-my daughter and train her or whatever the hell you think you're going to do, then you've got delusions that will NEVER BE CURED. GO TO HELL, ARC!"
"Mary," he murmured desperately. He wanted to approach her, hold the woman he loved, but thought better of it. He knew they were over. "Mary, I'm so sorry I never told you this part of what-of who I am. It was just too dangerous. But Fair will understand, she's a good girl. She'll grow up to be a good person."
"Yes," Mary mumbled through her sobs. "Yes, she will. Without you."
For the second time that night, he felt his heart break. "What?" he whispered.
"I'm leaving you, Arc. And I'm taking her."
"N-no," he gasped. "No, please. Mary, don't forgive me. Be angry, hurt me, break me. Don't take my baby. Don't take Fair. Please, please don't take her."
"Bastard," she hissed. "She's not yours anymore. Nobody threatens the life of my baby."
"It's not threatening—"
"SHE'LL DIE!" Mary shouted. "You said so yourself, it was too dangerous to even tell me what you are! You are NOT putting Fair in danger! Not even a little bit. I don't care what's at stake! You can go to hell!"
He pleaded with her the whole night, but the next morning, she was gone. And so was Fair.
Two years later, Arc went to Alderaan. He spent two years meditating, doing nothing else but eating, not even sleeping, and finally went to Alderaan. The two years of meditation gave him the strength to reach out into the Force and find his Master. And he was tremendously relieved to find that Master Windu was still alive, and on Alderaan. It didn't take too long to search for him; Arc simply followed the pull of his feelings and his sorrow.
"I'm sorry," he imagined himself saying to his Master, again and again.
Finally, he found him. Finally. Sitting on a rock, breathing almost silently, he found him. Finally. After five years during which Arc had lived too much more than he had planned to.
"Arc," said Master Windu, without turning around. "I see you've come."
He nodded, and opened his mouth to say the words he'd imagined saying so many times. They never came. A moment of shock, pain, regret, and it was gone.
"What happened?" cried Luke Skywalker, rushing to Ben Kenobi's side. Ben sunk into his seat with a shuddering gasp, knowing that something horrible had just happened…
A/N: Personally, I thought this story was really tragic. For those of you who didn't understand, the final scene is the one in A New Hope, where Ben (Obi Wan) feels it as Alderaan is destroyed. I hope you leave your comments for me, and I really appreciate my readers.
~Maya