Chapter 28

"You are on quite the warpath, Master. What did that gizka do to you?"

Dooku shot Qui-Gon a stern glare, as he stabbed at the meat dish in front of him. "It didn't tell the Council they're all a bunch of obsolete idiots, that's what it did."

Qui-Gon smiled. It wasn't often his old Master indulged him. "From what you've told me, it sounds like you took quite a strip out of them."

"And they deserved it. Had I realized the state of that Council, I would have accepted a seat years ago. How did we come to this? How did we become this?" As Dooku pushed his dish away from him, Qui-Gon reached out and barely rescued his water glass from being knocked over. It earned them looks from other Jedi in the cafeteria, but they paid them no attention.

"This isn't the Order I serve. We can be better than this; we owe the galaxy better than this. This is how the Sith nearly managed to turn the galaxy on its head, they evolved – we did not. That time is over. It's long overdue that we take a long hard look at ourselves, our policies, and our place within this universe. For two thousand years, we have remained the same. No more."

"I agree."

"Good," said Dooku, leveling him with a hard stare. Qui-Gon took a sip from his glass. "And that's why you're going to help me. I've demanded you be given a seat on the Council, I won't have you barred anymore."

Qui-Gon nearly choked on his water trying not to laugh.

Dooku's face soured. "This isn't humourous. And if you think you can choke yourself to death to try and get out of this then you are sorely mistaken. You are going to help me Qui-Gon Jinn if that's the last thing I make you do."

"Sorry, Master," Qui-Gon coughed with a smile, "but have you been under the impression all these years that I've been banned from serving on the Council?"

"Haven't you been?"

"Of course not, they keep asking, I keep refusing. Like my Master before me."

Dooku's resulting glare would have put the fires of Mustafar to shame. "Qui-Gon, I swear to…"

"But of course I'll join the new Council with you." Qui-Gon's eyes sparkled. "I look forward to seeing things change as much as you do."

Dooku shook his head, lips curing in disgust. "I don't think I will ever forgive those idiots for what they did to that Skywalker boy, dangling him in front of…what?"

"Skywalker?" asked Qui-Gon. He concentrated. He thought he heard… had that been the name Yoda had spoken when they had found Mace? He barely recalled… too wrapped up in the scene before him: his slain and injured brethren on the ground in front of him, and the Force crescendoing before silencing to a whisper. Suffice to say, he'd been distracted at the time.

"Anakin Skywalker?"

"Yes." Dooku's brow furrowed. "Are you acquainted with the boy?"

"No." Qui-Gon's eyes slowly hardened. "His mother. How long have they known about him?"

"Months."

Months. It rang through his head, repeating itself over and over again. Months…wasn't it not months ago that he…

"Mace Windu owes me an explanation."

Pushing back his chair, Qui-Gon stalked through the rows of tables to the exit ignoring Dooku's call behind him.

It as entirely possible that Mace had told the boy, but Qui-Gon doubted it. Mace had denied all knowledge of anyone named Skywalker, pretended like it hadn't been a familiar name at all. He remembered that conversation because he remembered the Force urging him to tell Mace what he'd found on Alderaan. He didn't know why he mentioned it, but he did. And it apparently fell on deaf ears.

That boy isn't a Jedi. He was a child ripped from his mother's arms and the Council had the knowledge to reunite them. Why they hadn't… Qui-Gon was going to find out. He had made a promise to Shmi Skywalker, and he was going to see it fulfilled.


A slow sinking feeling hollowed out his stomach as Obi-Wan forgot how to breathe. He felt cold…numb. The world reduced to a singular point as he struggled to draw in breath.

So that's what utter betrayal felt like. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. He could feel a painful tension headache building at the base of his neck, reaching outward across his temples. His hand gripped the blanket tightly, and he was glad that it was something soft in his grip - anything else might have shattered. He willed his breathing to remain steady and tried to ignore the burning threatening in his eyes.

"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, say something please…"

How long had he stared past her? He didn't know, he didn't care, to do what they –

"Get out."

"I'm sorr-"

"I said. Get. Out."

He couldn't make it out through the blur in his eyes, but he thought he might have seen Mi'aka nod, before lowering her head and retreating out through the door. It was only after the doors hissed shut that he could no longer hold back the tears that fell down his face like rain.

One of my oldest friends…how could you do this to us? Obi-Wan laughed tonelessly. Of course she could, she's a Jedi. First and foremost, a Jedi and perfectly in step to the Council's orders. He took a shuddering breath through the tears. Lowering his head into his hands, Obi-Wan gasped wetly. It was too much. It was finally all too much. After everything he had lost, after everything that had been taken from him, after all the times he was never good enough for the Jedi, they finally found a use for him, didn't they? They gambled with his health, pushed his body to extremes to make Anakin dance to whatever suggestion they came up with…they… they used them. Used them like…

The good of the many outweigh the good of the few…

Fuck that. He shoved the doctrine out of his mind. Fuck it to whatever Sithspawn hell…

If they had only asked

Obi-Wan wiped his face shakily. He wasn't even supposed to have known. Whether it was guilt or some semblance of friendship that made Mi'aka tell him what had really happened, he didn't know and didn't quite care. They had put him in danger; they had put Anakin in even greater danger. But it all worked out for the Jedi, didn't it? The last Sith was dead, the Separatists surrendered, the war was over…

I hope they're happy. And if there's no lasting damage to us, then I suppose they'll pat themselves on the back for a job bloody well done…

The water cup beside his bed went smashing into the wall. The glass exploded on contact and rained onto the floor, creating a sharp wet mess.

What was the point? He had given them everything: his dedication, his loyalty, his life. He did his job for them with the AgriCorps, despite it not being anything he wanted. He didn't make waves, he didn't complain, he didn't… they didn't…

They didn't deserve this.

Whether it ended a war or not, they didn't deserve this.

They didn't deserve for it to happen to them like this. He and Anakin didn't deserve to be used, to be put in danger, to be kept in the dark…to be…

They used Anakin to bait a Sith! To…to…

Obi-Wan choked. How could they…

He could have lost Anakin. He could have lost him to the Dark Side, to the Force, to…

Have I told him? wondered Obi-Wan helplessly, have I told him how much I love him? How proud of him I am? How much he means to me? How much light he's brought into my life, how he's thrown everything into chaos in the most spectacular of ways?

No, no he hadn't. And it was something that he would rectify once he saw him again. He could have lost Anakin to forces beyond either of their control. He thought they were safe on Bandomeer, a safe and unassuming, boring planet where nothing ever happens, where the weather is the workers' only real worry.

But it wasn't. Neither of them had been safe from the Council's meddling. Had Anakin's midichlorian count been average, then maybe no one would have looked twice at them. But it was so high…and he was too old to train, too old to be the Jedi they would need him to be, to bitter, scarred, and angry… too passionate, and full of love…

Part of Obi-Wan could almost accept what had been done to himself, and it made bile rise in his throat that he could…no, he wouldn't understand it. Refused to. He wasn't even going to try.

I'm not a Jedi. Their doctrine isn't mine, not anymore. I was thirteen when I left. What do I even know of how they make their decisions? I'm…I'm not one of them… I'm…done making excuses for them.

He raked his hands through his hair, wincing as tangled strands got caught. He let out a hollow breath. He would never forgive them for what they did to Anakin, for what they put him through. It was his only solace that Anakin was all right, that Mi'aka at least had that much to add. Obi-Wan only hoped that he wasn't utterly changed by the experience, he'd already been through so much… He smiled wryly. If anyone could come through something like that, it was Anakin. Obi-Wan would never doubt his strength.

I'll be here when you get back, love. We have a lot to talk about.

Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling, and shut his eyes tight against the glaring light.


Anakin trailed his thumb over the holo in his hand. After so many years, seeing his mother's face again, even in a picture was surreal. She was older, to be sure, but then so was he. His eyes moved to the young man accompanying Shmi in the picture.

Step-brother. I… I have a brother.

Had Dejiak been telling the truth? Was that really his brother? Was his mother married? Was she…happy? Maybe?

Had she forgotten about him…

No. No, she wouldn't have, couldn't have. She never would. That, Anakin was absolutely sure of. Despite his momentary fear, all he had to do was remember her, and how she was. All he needed to do was remember how much she loved him, how much she did for him. How she had screamed for him when they were separated. No. He hadn't been replaced. He'd just…gained more family. Probably even a step-father if his mom wasn't a widow.

He smiled as tears stung his eyes.

She's loved.

She found love. She'd found freedom, somehow. He didn't know how or when, or if it had happened before or after she'd met his step-family, but he was grateful. For however it happened, and towards whoever saved her. He prayed to the Stars that she hadn't wound up in a situation like his own before she was rescued. He'd take it all over again if it meant she had been spared that.

I hope you found some happiness, mom. I know you're out there. I know you were on Coruscant and I will find you. Obi-Wan and I will find you. I can't wait for you to meet him.

Obi-Wan.

Bant had assured him that Obi-Wan was awake and recovering, something that he longed to see with his own eyes. They'd both rest and get better; and once Anakin was less exhausted and could leave he would see about asking around the ports and seeing if he could find any ship logs that his mother had been on. Maybe the Jedi could help.

I killed a Sith for them, it's the very least they could do as a thank you.

And if they found her, no, not if – when, then maybe he could convince Obi-Wan to come with him to wherever they found her. He needed the support. It had been so long, that it scared him a little. This was the closest he'd been to her in a decade. And even though he didn't doubt her love for him, he was still afraid that she wouldn't recognize him. And if she didn't, how would he even get the words out before falling into her arms? That's all he wanted. From his mother. From Obi-Wan. He wanted to hold them both so much. They were his world, and maybe, very soon, his world would be complete.


Mace Windu walked slowly towards the Healer's Ward, his business there was two-fold. The first, he was visiting Depa again. Since his conversation with Master Dooku, he had been to see her every day. He wanted Dooku to be right. That maybe his presence by her side would be the guide she needed to find her way out of the darkness.

The second…was Skywalker. The Council had gone to debate, after their dressing down by Master Dooku, of whether or not to tell him of what had been done. They owed him the truth or they would lose him from the AgriCorps entirely in his anger. Because he would be angry, of that Mace had little doubt. If not anger for himself, then anger at their involvement of what had been done to Obi-Wan. The reports that Mi'aka had been sending back to them showed that Skywalker had a great loyalty to Kenobi, probably more. He'd been suspended from work on several occasions for defending Obi-Wan's honour. The fallout from this…they couldn't predict. It was not something he was looking forward to. But the Council had decided to confess. Mace had volunteered to be the one to do it, as he had been the loudest voice concerning the entire situation. They had all mostly agreed to the plan, but he was the one that led it. Yoda had wanted to offer, but thought that it would be better coming from someone else.

"Unnerve him, I do. Trust me, he does not." Yoda's ears dropped. "Worse, I think, it shall be, if tell him, I do."

Some on the Council wondered if this would drive Skywalker to the Dark Side. Was his loyalty to Obi-Wan enough to calm his anger? Others said, that it would be his choice. Something the Council had already once denied him of. If the Jedi were to change, they had to start somewhere. And letting Skywalker know what was done, and that it was the wrong decision, was the start of that change. How could they be better if they continued to hide this from him? They were Jedi. And Jedi were not cowards.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. It was the only warning he got before he was addressed.

"Mace. A word."

He turned and watched as Qui-Gon strode towards him from down the hall.

"I'm a bit busy, Qui-Gon."

"Going to confess to him what the Council did."

It wasn't a question. When Mace turned fully towards Qui-Gon, he saw a hardness in his eyes that he hadn't been on the receiving end of in years.

"That's not the only confession you have to make, is it? I'd like to hear your explanation for it in any case."

"What-"

"His mother. His mother, Mace. Skywalker is not a very common name, is it? And after everything I've heard from Master Dooku, I'm absolutely certain Shmi is Anakin's mother. I told you about her months ago. So explain to me why. Why were they not told?"

Mace pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders sagging under the heavy weight of Qui-Gon's accusatory stare.

"We were trying to protect him."

Qui-Gon scoffed. "From his own mother? I highly doubt Ventress would have magically tracked him down from that. Keeping him a secret from Force Users - that I understand. But to keep a son from his mother? To keep them apart after what they've gone through, it's-"

"Inexcusable," finished Mace. "Heartless. I know. We have made many mistakes in how this was handled. We're trying to right it."

"Too little, too late. Tell him about his mother, Mace. It might lessen the blow when he decides he's had enough of us," said Qui-Gon. "And strengthen your shields. We're all going to feel this one, given his strength with the Force. He is the Chosen One."

"You really believe that?"

"Don't you? " Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "He destroyed the Sith."

"With your penchant for the old prophecies, I'm surprised you don't want him trained."

Qui-Gon scoffed. "At his age? After Xanatos, do you really think I'd make that mistake again? The Prophecy has been fulfilled and I already have an apprentice. Anakin's life is his own, he'll live it now as he sees fit."

"And if he turns? If we drove him to it?"

"Then we'll handle it. He has raw power, but his control is not that of a Master, not even a Knight. But I doubt it will come to that."

"You think his mother will be enough to temper him?"

"Whatever happens, it's the Force that wills it."

Mace sighed. He had been growing increasingly exhausted and releasing his emotions to the Force had become difficult in recent days. "I have many regrets, Qui-Gon. And I will keep them for years to come. It may be 'too little too late' as you say, and I know we can't make this right but we have to try something. We should have done it from the beginning, but none of us were thinking clearly."

"Are you read for the fallout?"

"We'll weather it. We always do."


A/N: *waves* Hi! First off, thank you all so much for the amazing feedback and your absolute patience! I appreciate it so much. Secondly, I am so sorry that this has taken ages. I have been ungodly busy this last year with moving into a new position at work and it left me with zero personal time to write. It's been exhausting, but worth it and things are finally settling down.