AAAaaand welcome back! I have finally completed this chapter. I am already onto the next one too. So yay for that.

Apologies for grammar or spelling mistakes. I don't own Star Wars.

~o0o~

The Force was gone.

Xanatos blinked back terrified tears and the rusty ceiling returned to focus. Water dripped in a slow dull pace and landed to his right. Every time a droplet splashed against his cheek, it snapped him out a panic-induced haze. Yet alongside the water as it travelled to his chin, Xanatos' mind slipped back into a fretful state as it grappled with the Force's lacking presence. It felt as though a limb had been sliced away in his sleep, something so important to him stolen away. The Force was everything for a Jedi and so without it, Xanatos was at the mercy of water droplets less he accepts the gravity of the situation and succumb to its terrifying ramifications.

After what seems like years, Xanatos built up enough energy to lift his hand and wipe away the water, the clammy skin contrasting with his burning cheeks. As he dragged his hand down it came across an alien texture that made the teenager flinch. He inspected it and realised it was a collar. A collar that seems to be wrapped in a ghostly shell that vibrated and hummed. Like spotting a familiar person in a crowd, Xanatos took a second to realise that it was the Force buzzing around the collar. He tried reaching out but like two opposing magnets, his very efforts seemed to be driving him further away. Despair wracked through the teenager. Never in any of his Jedi lessons has he heard of a blockage between the Force and its child. There was nothing in this galaxy that could do such a cruel thing. Or at least that was what the Jedi thought.

Xanatos pulled his hand away from the cursed collar around his neck and laid it beside his face to catch the falling droplets. With every splash, the dark corners of Xanatos' vision grew until sleep overcame him.

~o0o~

Something was missing.

But Shmi couldn't figure out what it was. Despite this its absence felt like someone mindlessly rattling their feet under a table, bothersome and constant but able to be brushed aside when something else came up. Something else came up. Shmi overheard whispers and blearily opened her eyes. Fingers instinctively curled as though trying to grasp whatever was missing. Shmi heaved her body up and her groan echoed in the chamber. It was cold and the ground was damp. An engine rumbled in the background like cicadas in the summer's heat. There was an invasive tightness around her neck. Feeling it, Shmi realised she was wearing a collar of sorts and when she concentrated hard enough, she noticed it was causing a tingly feeling on her neck. Shmi's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of numerous small bodies, some still sound asleep and others awake and muttering to each other. All wore the very same collar. A group of five were huddled together and the tallest was a boy who appeared slightly older than her. They made eye contact but nothing more was done.

Shmi thought back to what happened before. It all came crashing through. Her shoulders shook as she swerved her head in all directions, taking in every last detail around her, and trying to imagine some way out of this. All her panicked mind could come up with was a simple cry for help and a plea to see her family again. Feeling cold and weak, Shmi pulled her legs close to her body. Hair fell over her shoulders and felt like a shield against the dark environment. Shmi berated her pathetic behaviour but no amount of demands to be brave like the Jedi spurred enough energy to get her to move.

The Jedi. Xanatos.

Shmi shuffled to the bodies and searched. Beyond her frantic breathing, she faintly heard the already awoken children questioning her and one particularly harsh voice commanding to shut up and calm down. Something snapped inside. Shmi glared at the oldest boy and snarled, "Shut up or I swear I'll hit you so hard these kids will wake up before you do."

With silence for a reply, Shmi got back to her searching. A sigh of relief eventually escaped her lips. When her hands touched Xanatos' shoulders she felt a comforting warmth soak into her skin and a sense of calmness relax her. Shmi brushed the teenager's hair aside and murmured his name. At the fluttering of his eyelids, Shmi smiled and moved to make sure the first thing Xanatos saw upon awaking was not this terrible environment but something familiar. She thought of her parents and how they eased her pain and fear when nightmares loomed too close to her heart. Shmi knew she wasn't her parents or the Jedi in levels of strength and bravery but she would do the best she could. Shmi's face brightened when Xanatos' eyes opened completely.

There was a moment where both teenagers simply soaked in their presence, before Xanatos shakily sighed, "You're okay. Thank the Force." But then his small smile fell away as sadness swept in.

Shmi frowned worriedly, "What?"

"…Can't you tell?" Xanatos whispered, strained and sickly. "It's gone. The Force."

"The…" Shmi's voice trailed away as her frown deepened. "It's gone? But how? Why would it –?"

"–The collar," Xanatos murmured, picking at the cursed contraption around his neck. "I don't know how, but it's blocking the Force."

Shmi's hands leapt to her collar. Her quickening heart beat pulsed uncomfortably against the scratchy material. "Why am I wearing one?" she asked her voice squeaky as she wrestled with the need to rip apart the collar. Helping Xanatos sit up provided a reasonable enough distraction.

Xanatos himself looked at her strangely, "Because you have the Force?" when Shmi's eyebrows furrowed and angled in a way that told of her disbelief, he added, "I mean, your connection is only small. Not enough to be a Jedi but it's still there. Haven't you felt that before? Haven't you ever felt like something was wrong before anyone else, or something was helping when you were in trouble?"

Now seated side by side with only each other's body to keep the cool away, Shmi rubbed her hands together obsessively as her mind scrambled over the dozens and dozens of memories slotting into place. It was like wearing protective goggles underwater for the first time, the fuzzy image finally becoming clear. Shmi felt a strange mixture of joy, for her old story books coming to life around her, but also fear for where this truth has brought her. Shmi turned to Xanatos and said, "What are we going to do if neither of us can use the Force? How do we get out of here?"

Xanatos failed to answer for two reasons. One was that he had no clue. The other was a new voice barging in to answer for him. "We probably won't."

It was only then Shmi realised almost everyone had woken up. A bunch of children and teenagers had split into sub-groups based on age or family relations. All were coated black and blue, some with bleeding lips and swollen eyes. Some of the articles of clothing worn might have looked prestigious and glamorous at one point but the dirty surroundings of what was recognised as a prison cell, levelled everyone into the same impoverish class. All were huddling together save for the older boy Shmi saw earlier who stood up and above the rest. With his full face in view Shmi guiltily noted the deep painful scratches running down a cheek, along with dry blood caking the injured side of his face. Maybe she shouldn't have snapped at him before…

Xanatos attempted to get to his feet as well but gave up pretty quickly when pain dug its claws across his back. He harked back to his master's lessons on diplomacy and countered the older boy, "You don't know that. If you give up now than the slavers have already won." Now that sounded like his dear master. In fact, Qui-Gon had used those exact words a few missions ago. It had worked then.

Didn't work as well now though. Many of the children grumbled or eyed the floor, none finding the confidence to resonate with Xanatos' words. Inside it felt like Xanatos' ribcage was squeezing inwards and a bubble of anxiety climbed up his throat. These reactions were not what he was expecting. When Qui-Gon had made that proclamation, the morale lifted and expanded. Here, it deflated like a pricked balloon. Xanatos glumly concluded that it was he who must have done something wrong. The oldest boy scoffed loudly, "Don't be so naïve. How is anyone supposed to even be able to find us?!"

Xanatos almost blurted out the bond shared between himself and Qui-Gon but the tugging around his neck silenced that thought. He barely met the older boy's eyes but it didn't escape his notice that they were glassy and filled with fear. Xanatos dismissed a bratty remark at this realisation and simply shrank away, unable to find the motivational words that his master all too easily could conjure in desperate times such as this.

"There are Jedi! They'll be able to find us."

All turned to Shmi who rose to her feet. Conscious of the all the attention on her, Shmi stamped down her nervousness and said firmly, thinking of the dejected padawan beside her feet, "The Jedi have saved countless of people all across the galaxy; they will come for us. I know it." Invigorated by the curiosity blooming from the younglings, Shmi looked back to her friend, "Xanatos, tell them, your master will come looking for you and he'll find all of us."

Xanatos gazed at her before nodding with a shy smile.

"Wait."

The oldest boy peered at Xanatos, "Is he a Jedi?"

Shmi nodded, "Yes!"

"A Jedi in training…" Xanatos' mumble was lost in the excited chatter of the children. A sick feeling frothed as Shmi only joined in, her infectious confidence winning the crowd at last.

It all ended abruptly when a loud bang sounded coming directly from the door to their cell. A harsh voice demanded them to shut their holes or else. The moment slipped away and children leaned closer, seeking comfort in each other. Although desperation and dread still clouded the thoughts of the stolen children, there was a single ray of hope sparkling underneath, like a stream of light peeping into a dense forest. Shmi especially soaked herself in this warmth and went to whisper something to Xanatos.

"Did you have to tell them?"

Shmi blinked, "Tell them what?"

"That I'm a Jedi?" Xanatos said, his voice hitching. "Did you see the looks on their faces? They all think I'm going to bust them out of here!"

Shmi pressed her palms against the boy's chest to try and calm him. "Hang on, shuuush, quiet or else they'll hear us…" once the padawan's breathing was normal again, Shmi said, "I just wanted to help them. They thought no one was coming for us. They needed to know that the Jedi will save us."

"You don't know that though –"

"–What do you mean I don't –?"

"–Look, I'm sorry, but just because we're Jedi doesn't mean we're indestructible," Xanatos retorted, burying his head in his hands. "My master can't find me if I'm not connected to the Force. While I wear this collar, we're invisible to the Jedi… and even if I still had the Force, this is the slave industry. If the Jedi were as incredible as you think we are, it wouldn't even exist. We're not that powerful when it comes to the wealth of the slave industry. Don't…count on us. Don't count on me."

Shmi's shoulders slackened as she processed Xanatos' words. Her chest flinched and ached. She forced away tears and muttered, "I …I got to believe in something or …" her voice cut out wetly but she soon added, "…I'm going to see my mum and dad and sister again. I can't be without them. If I can't hold onto that hope, then what else am I supposed to do?" Shmi folded her arms around her, shivering at the thought of never seeing her family again. The galaxy surely couldn't be so cruel.

"I'm sorry," Xanatos whispered. "We'll …figure out something."

Shmi nodded stiffly.

The two glanced up sharply when outside, beyond the cell, they heard a baby's cry.

~o0o~

Tahl was mindlessly sipping soup in the ship's cafeteria when she felt a familiar presence. She glanced to her right and saw Qui-Gon enter looking distracted and caught in a flurry of excitement. This immediately put Tahl on edge, wondering what could have possibly put Qui-Gon in such a state. She supposed the wait to find out wouldn't be long when Qui-Gon spotted and headed straight towards her table. He reminded Tahl of their younger days when he came bounding through the corridors of the Temple yelling with joy that he had passed the trials and was to become a Knight. He had leapt into Tahl's arms and both had fallen to the ground. They ignored the bruising and went out that night promising to distress their masters with hangovers the following day.

It was memories like that which gave Tahl the patience to let Qui-Gon sit by her. It was also the other more frustrating memories that made Tahl purposely pretend nothing was on Qui-Gon's mind and instead directed the conversation to something more relevant.

"I've just received word on the droid's recovery," she started, tearing apart a piece of bread and dipping it into her soup. "B3-S2 is pretty rugged up but it'll survive. Hopefully we'll get some insight on Obi-Wan's theft when it reboots."

"You're not going to –oh. Yes, I see," Qui-Gon took a moment to catch up. Shaking his head and clearing his throat to start again he said, "That is good to hear. Any ideas as to when it'll wake up?"

Tahl shrugged, looking at her meal rather than the man she was still annoyed with, "That all depends on Luke. It appears he made a few adjustments to keep the droid alive. At least that's what I assume. Someone did something to the droid." The woman sighed in exhaustion.

Qui-Gon casually clapped his palms together with an expression that made Tahl nervous. He then said a little too brightly, "Speaking of, would you like to know Luke's real name?"

Tahl stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Her friend leaned in closer, excitement lighting up his Force presence, "Tahl, I was right. There's something special about Anakin. You're not going to believe –"

"– 'Anakin'?"

"Yes, Tahl, Tahl…" he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "We meditated together. Anakin walked into my Force landscape. And he's not from here. He's from the future. The Force told me he was telling the truth."

Tahl barely knew where to start. She slowly breathed in, her held hand feeling numb. A faint frown marred her features as she considered what had just been told to her. The academic side of her dashed to the folders in her brain, storing all the information gathered after years working in the Archives. The results came in: never had there ever been an individual capable of entering someone's connection to the Living Force, colloquially known as a 'Force landscape.' It was a private and deeply personal part of the Force-user and considered invasive and rude if one attempted to do the impossible and walk in. Hearing that the stranger was somehow able to stroll in Qui-Gon's landscape simply did not compute with Tahl's academic self. Yet a softer side, one that had shared a toy with Qui-Gon back in their creche days and secured a loyal friend, knew that no matter the ups and downs in their relationship throughout the years, there was not a single memory where Qui-Gon had lied to her. Her academic self reminded her that Qui-Gon may never have lied but that didn't correlate to truth. His incorrect perceptions had gotten both into trouble in the past, which especially didn't help when Qui-Gon stubbornly dug his heels into the ground and often refused to budge. The latest disaster being a fine example in Tahl's firm opinion. However, she recalled the afternoon days ago, when a wander around the Archives brought her to the section on philosophy. There she had spotted the stranger revealed to be called Anakin making an absolute mess of the place, surrounded by abandoned books, and digging through the works of old Jedi Masters. Every book had been on the Force and its connection to the concept of time.

Tahl rubbed her temples, feeling a headache emerge. The Force was many things and the Jedi its interpreter but Tahl wasn't confident in her ability to understand such a challenging message. She wondered what her dear old master would think. She would have advised Tahl on being open to the ways of the Force but also stay keenly aware of Qui-Gon's tendency to be swept up in the romantics of it all. Tahl pulled her hand away from Qui-Gon's and threaded her fingers together, laying her chin on them. Qui-Gon, in his eagerness, lost patience and spoke up again, "I was thinking… about the books Master Dooku read all the time when I was a padawan."

Tahl drew out of her deep thinking and replied, "On the Dark side of the Force?"

Qui-Gon huffed, "It wasn't just the Dark side he studied. He studied every aspect of the Force. It's eternal nature, it's connection to everything that has existed and will exist. About balance. About …a Chosen One, born from the Force itself. He said that a being born from the Force would be the most powerful Force user in history. Far more powerful than even Master Yoda. Tahl, when Anakin mediated into my landscape… I felt it. I felt his strength in the Force. I have never ever felt someone that powerful before –"

"–Are you suggesting –?!"

"–Tahl –"

"–No, Qui-Gon, what you're saying…" Tahl briefly wished for another hour of sleep before saying with the dwindling patience of an exasperated parent with a misbehaving child, "I just feel that… you're jumping to conclusions too quickly –"

"–You're right, I was going to ask Anakin for a blood test to check his midi-chlorian count."

"…Absolutely not," Tahl dismissed, blown away by her friend's one-track mind at times. "I'm… willing to have a talk with Anakin over …this. And we'll see."

Qui-Gon stared at her, "We'll …see?"

"Yes."

A prickling of irritation nestled in Qui-Gon's chest. He slipped his hands into the sleeves of his cloak and answered mildly, "Alright then."

Tahl narrowed her eyes, having felt the negative emotions streaming across their bond. "Yes, 'alright then.' I'm not about to believe everything a man like Anakin says. A man who, need I remind you, stole and lost a baby, forgets himself in a panic, and abandons plans at whim."

"You've haven't felt the power he holds, Tahl," Qui-Gon grumbled, both hearing the cold snap in his tone. "I have. He's telling the truth. He could very well be the Chosen One. I'm sure of it."

Tahl threw her hands up, soup forgotten, "Oh yes, cause you were so sure that Anakin was perfectly sound to help us against the slavers. Remember, Qui-Gon, remember, that Obi-Wan is now in the hands of slavers and it is because Anakin left him alone. I don't care how powerful he is, or whether he is the 'Chosen One' or not, he's still got a brain that sits in a skull and that brain isn't healthy! That brain is still capable of making stupid and dangerous decisions. In fact, I'm inclined to be more concerned if someone with decision habits like that contains as much power as you claim."

"You're not being fair," Qui-Gon argued. "You've already decided to distrust Anakin and paint everything he does as failure –"

Tahl scoffed, "–Are we really having this discussion again?"

"–You do this Xanatos too!" Qui-Gon barked. "You're much too concerned with the future, what could happen, rather than paying attention to what is happening now. For all your worry about what Anakin or Xanatos might do, you're not doing much to talk to them and actually prevent that from happening. Instead, you're simply keeping me on a leash and –"

"–Alright, I'm done," Tahl shoved her soup aside and got up.

"Tahl –!"

"–I'm not interested discussing such trivial topics," Tahl replied spitefully. She called upon the Force to surround her in a cocoon of comfort and ease the overwhelming emotions away. Behind her, she heard Qui-Gon bitterly muttering to himself.

Tahl was about to leave the cafeteria when a green Twi'lek greeted her.

"Um, Master Jedi," the second-in-command, Lanett, squeaked. "The Captain would like to speak to you. Both of you at the bridge."

Tahl's face transformed into a mask of indifference and nodded, "I'll make my way there now. Please pass the message to Master Jinn. Do be mindful when approaching him. He has a sabre up his arse."

~o0o~

Being the second-in-command to a crew of slavers was not all that it cracked up to be. Tai-Ro would have liked to have simply returned to his quarters and read a holobook. However, that was a luxury for the boss and so here Tai-Ro was counting the number of personnel on board and noting those who didn't make it. He clicked his tongue when the losses were higher than usual. It also didn't help to learn that a certain female Zygerrian was nowhere to be seen. The boss was not going to be happy. Tai-Ro moved beyond the room scarred with lightsabre marks and towards the boss' quarters. The only hope Tai-Ro had of leaving the meeting with his fur intact was the highly successful capture of many Force sensitives and so banked all his luck on misery of the younglings before entering.

Inside, Nuro Narrin was pocketing a commlink and grumbling to himself. A curse word flashed across Tai-Ro's mind as he ponders how to best approach an already irritated boss. Narrin was never the type to be ignored so Tai-Ro began carefully, "Something to matter?"

Narrin scoffed loudly. He shoved open a draw and searched for an item inside. He said gruffly, "Here I was, thinking this deal was going to be simple. Quiet. With no interference. But no. He's has to…" He sighed roughly.

"…are you referring to our providers or patron?"

Narrin turned to Tai-Ro with a collar tangled in his paws. His whiskers twitched as he snarled, "The Trade Federation wouldn't dare cause trouble to us. Not with our supporter. They're a bunch of cowards. But rich cowards. Got to give 'em credit where credit's due. These collars. Work like a charm they do. Never thought I'd see the day the Jedi could be blocked from the Force." Narrin twirled the collar around.

Tai-Ro answered with a mild tone, "So what is the prob –?"

He was interrupted when a baby began to cry. Tai-Ro followed the noise and noticed a bundle of clothing in a dark corner of the room. He could just make out the shadow of a small restless being.

Narrin jabbed his finger towards the baby's direction, "That's the problem. Force sensitive and red hair. Alone, those features would buy someone a mansion if you found someone desperate enough. I know plenty of Hutts that find red-heads appealing and appropriate for their market. But together?" Narrin huffed out a laugh. "I'd be rolling in credits. That brat's worth a bunch! And I can't sell the little bugger." At that, Narrin slammed a fist into the wall.

Tai-Ro frowned at the proclamation. "Did our patron –?"

"–Our patron wants the brat," Narrin explained further. "And I can't say no. I mean, look what happened to the last boss." Both Zygerrians recalled the moment years ago when a dark and dangerous stranger approached their group and offered a deal to their boss, a female Zygerrian who decorated herself with jewellery across the galaxy. She had looked splendid with rubies dancing around her neck. To Narrin, it was even better when those very rubies choked the life out of her and he was given the status of boss instead.

Tai-Ro folded his arms, "Perhaps our patron will reward you well in return."

"I can only hope," Narrin replied bitingly.

An awkward silence settled and Tai-Ro came to the unhappy conclusion that at some point he was going to have to deliver more unfortunate news. Taking the plunge, Tai-Ro said carefully, "Sir, I understand you're not in the best of moods. However, I regret to inform you that your daughter is among those missing."

"I know," Narrin answered shortly. He continued to toy with the collar and strolled towards the crying baby. "When we jumped to hyperspace, I felt it. Still alive though."

"She'll aid the Jedi to our location," Tai-Ro claimed. Just as the boss was about to answer Tai-Ro compelled himself to add firmly, "At the very least she'll lead them to the Pilga System. We shouldn't' doubt the power of the Jedi. I'm sure they'll find us quickly."

"We should prepare dinner then," Narrin answered calmly. "If they want to chat, we'll give them plenty to talk about. Just as long as they don't find the younglings, what does it matter to me? They bring Kida to me, and I get my daughter back. It's a win-win regardless. In the meantime, I want my slaves ready. The Hutt I have contacted has little care for slavers with a rebellious streak. Gardulla wants her slavers broken."

Tai-Ro nodded again. So much for an easy night with a holobook. Now there was more work to do. He watched as the boss picked up the expensive baby. The youngling was squirming but yelped when Narrin dug his claws into soft chubby skin. Narrin wrapped the collar around the baby's neck. With a click, the collar was on and activated. Immediately, the baby silenced and his stormy blue eyes darted around the room as though searching for something or someone. When unsuccessful, the baby shut his eyes and whimpered softly. Satisfied Narrin left his quarters with the subdued baby in his arms.

Tai-Ro observed the boss as he left. Yes, being second-in-command wasn't the greatest job in the world but it certainly allowed information to be passed with ease. Nuro Narrin may be tied to their patron and obligated to give the baby to ensure his heart kept on beating. But Tai-Ro certainly wasn't.

~o0o~

So, Zelda: Breath of the Wild, is an addictive game and I LOVE it. Which is bad when you're trying to write a big fanfic and your own fictional story. Oops.