Hello everyone! I am extremely sorry that I have not gotten a post up in over a month, but the past few weeks have been very busy for me. I've gone back to school, football season has started, and I am in the throes of college applications. Suffice it to say that I am not through it yet, and as such updates may continue to be sparse. But I will do my best to consistently get up the chapters I have already written out. Thank you to all of you for your patience in sticking with this story.

Now, here's Chapter 35.

Chapter 35

The sun was setting over Yavin 4 when the call came.

The hard, uncompromising noise roused Asajj Ventress from the depths of her meditation at the heart of the great Massassi Temple. The currents of anger and rage that she had been allowing herself to draw upon faded away, back into the massive stone walls. The dark warrior opened her pale, predatory eyes and sighed. Why now? She had been waiting for some kind of contact from her masters for months, but why did it have to come now, when she had finally been able to grasp the true power of her surroundings?

Ventress pulled herself out of her cross-legged position and stretched her tense muscles. She was disappointed that she had been sitting on the cold stone floor for hours and had been unable to come up with a satisfactory result from her attempt. It would take several more hours before she could reach the ancient current of power again. Whatever the call was about, it had better be worth it.

She finished stretching and summoned her curved lightsabers carelessly to her hands from their resting places on either side of her. Then she began a slow, purposeful glide towards the communications center one floor below. The klaxon continued its ceaseless blaring as she descended the staircase, and Asajj glared in the direction of the noise. Yet in spite of herself, she was curious. She had not heard anything about galactic affairs for several months, and if it really was Lord Sidious, Tyrannus, or General Grievous calling, she was going to ask for a full update on how the Separatist cause was faring, and whether or not any notable Jedi had been exterminated.

She reached the communications center, which was in a state of rather bad disrepair. A vigorous green mold was growing on several of the monitors, and a family of crystal snakes had made its home under the war room display. But the main communications array was clear, so Asajj crossed over to it and opened the channel. She reeled backwards immediately at the face that greeted her.

"Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi's visage darkened immediately. "Ventress. I see that your common sense has not improved since we last met. Do not address me by that name again."

Asajj recovered from her initial shock, and her expression became one of disdain. "Or what, Kenobi? You and the rest of your little Jedi friends will descend upon me and rid the Force of the corrupting influence of another darksider? Do not try my patience with such pathetic ultimatums. It is only a matter of time before Darth Tyrannus and General Grievous wipe you and the rest of your weak friends from the face of this galaxy."

Kenobi did not act like she would have anticipated. His face immediately broke into a maliciously delighted and twisted grin.

"Oh, you haven't heard," he said mockingly. "That's right, you've been out of touch. Well, I'll fill you in. Dooku is dead. Grievous is dead. The surviving Separatist leaders are in hiding. The war is effectively over."

Asajj Ventress was stunned. Her master, Darth Tyrannus, dead? General Grievous slain? The Separatists had lost the war? Suddenly, she wished desperately that she had been left in blissful ignorance. The idea that all she had worked for three years had been swept away while she was invisible bored into her mind like a hot vibroblade. She was inclined to brand Kenobi as a liar, but knew inherently that he spoke the truth. She felt something sour rise into her throat. The Jedi were victorious. It appalled her.

"So, then," she said bitterly, "Are you calling to gloat, Kenobi? That's not like you at all. You're supposed to be too noble to take pleasure in victory. Your precious Jedi code …" she stopped. "Wait a minute. How did you even know how to contact me?"

Kenobi eyed her distastefully. "My master gave me the information. He has a mission for you."

"A mission?" Ventress exclaimed in disgust. "Your master? Is this a trick? I will never surrender to your pathetic Jedi values, and I certainly will never cooperate with your Masters on the Council!"

Suddenly, she was aware of a dark and oppressive force weighing down on her from all sides. It constricted her body painfully, and she had to struggle feverishly to breathe. She looked at Kenobi's face on the screen, and was shocked to see that his eyes had turned yellow and that his face was a steely mask of hatred.

"I serve the Jedi Council no longer," he hissed in a voice that made Ventress's spine turn to ice. "They gave themselves to treachery and met their fate … at my hands."

Ventress tried to comprehend this while still fighting the force that was binding her. It was useless; its grip only strengthened. She was conscious of falling to her knees as the oxygen deprivation began to overcome her brain. She placed one hand on the floor to steady herself as she agonizingly forced her head back up towards the display. She recognizes the aura around Kenobi, as clear and potent as it had ever been around the Count, likely more so. It was the same currents of anger and subsequent power that she had drawn from the Temple. The embrace of the Dark Side.

"Your … master …" she gasped weakly as blood began to pool in her vision.

"Yes," Kenobi said coldly. "My new master. Darth Sidious."

Abruptly, the oppressive force bearing down on Ventress released her. The dark warrior collapsed onto the hard stone floor, shaking feebly as the strength of resistance abandoned her limbs. She sucked in a ragged breath and released it as a sob, aware of just how close to death she had come.

Kenobi watched her from the monitor with a mixture of contempt and amusement in his cold blue eyes. "Get up, Ventress," he snapped. "I am on a schedule. I don't have time to watch you tremble."

Slowly and painfully, Asajj Ventress pulled herself to her feet using the display before her, until she was once more level with Kenobi. She leaned subtly on the control board for support as she tried to find her voice once more. "So, you … you've joined the Sith, then?"

"Yes," he replied icily. "I am now Darth Vader."

"A … pleasure," Asajj brought her smooth hand up to caress her still-throbbing neck. "So, My Lord … to what do I owe the honor of your transmission?"

Vader looked determinedly at her. "Lord Sidious has tasked you with an important duty. You are to locate Padmé Amidala and you are to capture her. Alive."

"I see," Asajj said evenly, absorbing the information. "And may I ask why I am supposed to capture the Senator … alive? Does Lord Sidious want the pretty thing as a trophy?"

"Absolutely not," Vader snarled. "The reason for this action is of no importance to you."

"Oh, I'm not sure about that," Asajj leaned in close to the monitor, well aware she was playing a dangerous game. If Kenobi … Vader … chose to lash out again, she would be powerless to stop him. "If I don't know why I am supposed to be so careful, I might use excessive force. There could be …an accident."

A brief flash of something that looked suspiciously like fear flashed across Vader's face, but he recovered so quickly that Asajj was not sure she had really seen it. Ventress drew even closer to the monitor, the look on her face almost seductive. Vader drew back instinctively, then mastered himself and eyed her with a suspicious look. Finally, he spoke.

"Padmé Amidala is … very important to Anakin Skywalker. The Dark Lord desires to have Anakin join our cause, so he needs … leverage."

Ventress's eyes immediately narrowed at the mention of the name Anakin Skywalker. Below the monitor's view, her hands balled into fists. "Him. He should not even be alive. Why does Lord Sidious want him as his apprentice? He already has you, doesn't he?"

Vader smiled. "One, because he is the strongest Force user in this galaxy, Jedi or Sith. He is the Chosen One. Two, he has shown agreeable tendencies towards the Dark Side, and Lord Sidious is confident that our combined influence will be enough to bring him in. And three, because the Jedi Order is effectively extinct. Old he and a few rouge masters remain. There is no future in such a path, and his power will help us bring about the glorious vision of a New Order."

Ventress forced a smile. "Are you sure you are not being blinded by lingering traces of affection for your former padawan? Surely there is someone else better suited to walk the path of the Sith."

Vader raised an eyebrow. "Are you thinking of yourself? I am sensing traces of bitterness. Possibly this stems from your utter defeat at Anakin's hands a few months ago?"

Ventress clenched her teeth in suppressed fury. "I nearly bested him! And you! I gave him that scar he has over his eye!"

Vader smirked and tilted his head to reveal the long scar that ran down the left side of his face, the mirror image of Anakin's. "Ah yes, and Grievous so nearly got the better of me as well."

Asajj forced down a furious retort. Anger and shamed burned within her like a sacrificial pyre. Patience. Your time will come.

"So I am to capture Senator Amidala," she said, as calmly as she could. "And then what? Torture her?"

That flash of fear passed over Vader's face again. "No. You are not to harm her. She is only being kept away so that she cannot interfere with Lord Sidious's efforts to turn Anakin. After he has joined us, she is to be released."

"With all due respect, Lord Vader," Ventress said in an appealing tone, "that doesn't sound like the best strategy. I am quite certain his descent would be hastened if you allowed me to induce a certain level of pain on this woman who is so dear to him."

A look of terrifyingly serious resolve seized Vader's face. He gave a small smile. "Tell me Asajj, would you like to know what Anakin did the last time someone he loved was tortured?"

The look in Vader's eyes told Ventress that she did not want to know.

The look on Vader's face faded, and his tone became almost pleasant. "If you have no further insights to offer, then I suggest you begin your mission immediately. Our intelligence tells us that Senator Amidala is most likely heading for Alderaan. You would be wise to begin your search there. You will contact me when you have apprehended her and have brought her back to your current location. If you see Anakin, you are not to engage him. If you do, Lord Sidious and I will be most … displeased."

Ventress lowered her eyes. "Very well then. I will prepare my ship."

"Good," Vader nodded. "Oh, and Ventress …"

The dark woman looked up. "Yes?"

The mocking smile returned to Vader's lips. "Be careful. As confident as you are in your abilities, Padmé Amidala is a strong and resourceful woman. She is more than capable of handling someone like you, even if she cannot touch the Force. As much as I would love to see her discharge a blaster between your eyes, this mission has to succeed. So stay out of sight, and carry out your duty efficiently, if you are capable of doing such a thing. And remember: if she is brutalized, I will exact the consequences on you."

Ventress looked Vader right in the eye with a piercing stare. "If you don't think I can do this, why would your master entrust me with this mission?"

Vader placed his hand on a switch and fixed her with a final look of withering contempt. "That, Asajj," he said icily, "Is a question for which I have no answer."

With those words, the link was terminated.

Darth Vader turned away from the communications console, then took a deep breath to get himself back under control. He didn't want to dismiss the anger that had been brimming just beneath the surface for the entire conversation, but he found it impossible to separate it from the weakness, the fear he had felt when Ventress had threatened to torture Padmé. He knew that she was more than capable of such an action, and it made his stomach turn to think that she might decide to take the liberty anyway, despite his very clear warning. He would impress it upon her again the next time they spoke … if they did indeed speak again. There was a part of Vader that was hoping that Padmé would kill Ventress, so that Sidious would be forced to entrust the mission to someone more stable, or even to give it up entirely. That part of him, however, was suppressed by his calculating side, which knew that if Anakin was to fall, Padmé needed to be removed for a time. Everything would be worth it once Anakin joined them. As Lord Sidious had told him, the end justified the means. The principle of a Sith.

Vader clenched his armored fist as he remembered his previous encounters with Ventress. First, he had encountered her after tracking shipments of chemical weapons on Quetya. They had dueled, and during the battle Ventress had tried to sway him to the Confederacy on behalf of Count Dooku. He had refused, and subsequently bested her. She had fled the planet and plagued the Republic on other battlefronts for months. Later, he had been placed in charge of a mission to retake the word of Jabiim, a small Outer Rim planet that had seceded from the Republic along with the Confederacy. After weeks of combat on the rain-drenched planet, his base had been destroyed in an attack, and he had been captured, along with the ARC Trooper Alpha. Ventress imprisoned him in her personal fortress on her homeworld of Rattatak, where she tortured him, hoping to break his spirit. He had escaped, and defeated her again. The enmity between them was great, even for her, consumed by hatred for all Jedi, and him, who had sworn not to hate anyone. Now, following his liberation from the Jedi, that enmity had redoubled.

This was the first matter he had really disagreed with his master on since joining the Sith. But Vader was not going to let his Master sway him on this issue, concerning someone as hateful and unstable as Asajj Ventress. In the new galaxy to be created, one of justice and freedom, there was no place for twisted fiends like her, whose sole purpose in life was to kill. Once his empire had been established and the galaxy was secure, he would seek her out and rid the Force of such a despicable influence.

"Are you finished, My Lord?"

Vader turned to see Mirthrada Nuruodo standing a few meters away in the doorway leading to the pilot's compartment of their shuttle. The Chiss agent was as cold and ruthless looking as ever, and the mission that they had been tasked with seemed to have further steeled his resolve. Vader thought he could sense where the attitude came from. Nuruodo was not accustomed to failure of any sort, and no doubt he was determined to redeem himself for allowing Mace Windu to escape, for his own peace of mind as much as his master's.

"Yes, Commander. I am finished."

Nuruodo gestured respectfully towards the cockpit. "Then it is my duty to inform you that we are approaching our main fleet group. We will be docking with your command ship shortly."

Vader followed Nuruodo into the cockpit and stared out of the transparisteel viewpanels. A large, arrow shaped ship was looming in front of them. Even at a distance of several hundred kilometers, it was apparent that the ship was massive, more than a kilometer and a half in length. The white hull caught the light of Coruscant's distant star, lending an even more imposing appearance to the dagger-shaped vessel. Vader had seen prototype designs for such battleships when he was a general in the Republic Army, but the final product was nothing short of breathtaking.

"The Imperial-class Star Destroyer Vengeance," Nuruodo informed the Sith Lord. "The first of its kind. The ships you will see adjacent to it are Victory-class, an older model that is slightly smaller, but nearly as potent."

Sure enough, Vader noticed two more vessels come into view, flanking the Vengeance. Nuruodo's description was accurate; these were smaller, but the visible weaponry on their surfaces told him that they were more than capable of bringing an entire battle group of standard Republic cruisers to its knees on their own. The Dark Lord felt a smile pull at the corners of his lips. "My Master feels that all this is necessary?"

"Indeed," Nuruodo said. "He has an innate passion for what he calls superweapons. He has channeled considerable funds from the Confederate and Republic war effort into development projects to build bigger and more deadly military machines. In fact, the Vengeance is only to be your temporary flagship. I believe he has something much grander in store for you, once the final preparations are completed on his most important project."

Vader suddenly had a strong sense that he knew exactly what his master's most important project was. He rounded on Nuruodo, intending to demand more information, but an incoming transmission from the lead Star Destroyer spared the Chiss from answering.

"Unidentified shuttle, this is the Vengeance. Transmit your code and identify your mission."

Nuruodo gave the code. "Vengeance, this is shuttle 1486A. Aboard are Lieutenant Commander Mirthrada Nuruodo and Lord Darth Vader, apprentice to Darth Sidious. He is to take command of this vessel for its mission to Chandrila."

There was a pause, then the officer on the other end of the channel spoke again. "Shuttle 1486A, you are granted access to dock in the main landing bay. We will prepare a delegation to honor Lord Vader's arrival."

After the communication ended, Vader looked hard at his subordinate.

"While I appreciate the steps you took to save me from having to introduce myself, would it not have been more prudent to save my identity until we were alone with the ship's commander? A ship the size of the Vengeance cannot possibly be crewed by less than five thousand, and even if most of them are clone soldiers, there is still substantial chance of a leak. My master has not instructed me to reveal myself fully yet. Why announce my arrival so openly?"

Nuruodo turned his head and let a small smile touch his lips. "This battle group is not standard Republic military. Though we will soon immerse ourselves fully in the mainstream, this particular operation is a preemptive strike, and therefore cannot be connected to the Republic until Lord Sidious gives his speech and can justify it. He instructed me to contact an old associate of mine, who would assist us in quickly subduing the opposition."

Vader raised a calculating eyebrow. "Who is this associate?"

Nuruodo turned back to the task of guiding the ship into the main hanger. "You'll see, My Lord."

A few seconds later, a tractor beam caught hold of their ship and guided it the remaining distance to rest in the hangar bay. The containment fields went up once more, and the landing ramp slip down. Vader raised his hood and lead the way out of the cabin and down the ramp, Nuruodo trailing at a respectful distance of a few paces behind.

A procession of armed clone troopers stood in two rows flanking their path. The troopers snapped a crisp salute at Vader, and he acknowledged them with a nod. As he did so, two figures emerged from a turbolift and walked between the lines towards him. One was a human officer, bearing the rank of a Captain. He was not a clone, though his battle-hardened and scarred face proved that he had seen more than his share of combat. But it was the other man who drew Vader's attention. He wore the light gray uniform of a Vice Admiral, and held an undeniable aura that commanded respect. His skin was a deep blue, his hair coal black, and from his sharp face burned two red eyes. He was a Chiss.

Vader was about to turn and ask Nuruodo if this was his brother when the commanding alien stopped three paces away and bowed. "Lord Vader, I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. It is a deep honor to have you aboard my ship."

Vader smiled. "The honor is returned, Admiral. It is a truly impressive vessel."

"Lord Sidious was very generous," Thrawn said, rising out of his bow. "It has enabled me to carry out my missions both elegantly and effectively."

Vader noted how he placed elegant before effective, and remembered that Thrawn held a deep interest in art. "Let us hope that this mission will be equally successful."

"Indeed, My Lord," Thrawn stepped aside and indicated the turbolift. "This way leads to the bridge."

Vader swept towards the turbolift. Thrawn began to follow, but halted briefly as Nuruodo approached him.

There was no outpouring of brotherly affection, or even any words spoken. Nuruodo saluted then extended a hand, which Thrawn took. He placed his free hand on his brother's shoulder, and pressed their foreheads lightly together. Then the two Chiss broke apart and became as rigid and dutiful as before.

Thrawn walked towards Vader and then activated the turbolift. "This way, My Lord."

They emerged onto an expansive, open bridge, with a high walkway leading directly to the main viewport. Below, dozens of minor officers worked the computers and controls that directed the ship. Thrawn led the way to the viewport, then stopped, faced Vader, and bowed once more.

"This is where you take command, My Lord. I have been informed of our destination and the coordinates for Chandrila are entered into the navicomputers of all our vessels. We await your directive."

Vader approached the viewport and stared out at the deep blackness of space, pierced by the millions of tiny lights which where the stars. Out of the corners of his vision, he could see the two other Star Destroyers at his command floating silently, pointed prows aimed directly at a world several thousand light years away. Once, as a Jedi, he had detested space travel. Now, as he stood on the bridge of the Vengeance as Dark Lord of the Sith, he found the sight of infinity oddly entrancing. The boundaries of this great void were limitless, but his power, his vision, was strong enough to reach the furthest lengths accessible to a mortal. He thought for the first time he might understand Anakin's love of flight. This … just this … was freedom.

But his mission had a definite goal, and infinity would always be there, whenever he chose to gaze on it again. He focused his eyes straight ahead. "Take us to lightspeed, Admiral."

Thrawn relayed the order. Vader took one more long look at the stars, the entire galaxy spread out before him. Then the transition to hyperspace began, and all those stars, all of infinity condensed to a single point – towards Chandrila.

As evening fell, Alderaan was peaceful. The brilliant sun was just beginning to touch the tops of the mountains that ringed the capital city of Alderaan. The landing pad containing the Tantive IV, which had been bustling with life a short time ago, was now empty and silent, save only for the hum as fuel passing through the refueling hoses to the ship. People were returning to their homes and gathering on their rooftops and balconies to watch the approaching sunset. There was no hint of the turmoil that the revered Senator Organa had brought with him from Coruscant. For the people of Alderaan, life was as beautiful as ever.

Yet even in such expansive tranquility, there were those who could not indulge in it. At the royal palace, the outcast Senators and their Jedi allies had taken refuge. They had decided to come to Alderaan after all, despite the risks, because of the need for a secure base and communications center from which to spread their message. After a brief conference, the Jedi had headed to the war room, while Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa had retreated to the large, ornate side hall that served as the Organa's private communications center. They were currently trying to raise Mon Mothma, their colleague and the representative from Chandrila.

When the Senator's face appeared in the holprojector, Padmé allowed a smile to form on her face. "Mon. Thank you so much for speaking with me on such short notice."

Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila returned Padmé's smile with a warm one of her own. "Not at all, Padmé. It's so good to see you again. However, before we continue, I need to ask: are the rumors true? Reports have leaked out that you were involved in the chaos at the CMI, and that security forces attempted to arrest you and Senator Organa for action you took against Chancellor Palpatine. Is there any truth at all in these accusations?"

Padmé sighed. "I'm afraid so, Mon. But let me explain …"

Mothma looked shocked. "Padmé! We shouldn't be having this conversation! They could trace the call and find you, wherever you are!"

"Don't worry, Mon," Padmé said. "We're on a secure channel."

"Yes we are," Bail Organa said, stepping up behind Padmé. "Captain Antilles and I made sure of that."

In spite of herself, Mon gave Organa a smile as well. "Bail. It's good to see you're alive."

"I've been through worse," Bail shrugged. "But I won't have been if we don't do something to curb Palpatine's plans."

Mon frowned. "What are you talking about?"

A resolved look appeared on Padmé's face. "Mon, are you aware that the Jedi Temple has been attacked?"

"Yes," Mon nodded, looking confused. "Not that I've heard anything official. The Executive Branch is staying quiet, but the Chancellor promised he would address it at the special Congressional session later."

Padmé and Bail exchanged grim looks, then Padmé turned back to Mothma. "Mon, this is going to sound impossible, but you have to believe us. The Chancellor is behind the attack on the Jedi Temple. He wanted to destroy them before they could become a serious threat to oppose him. It worked. Only a few Jedi are still alive."

Mothma looked as though she had been struck in the face. "What? He can't do that … it's blatantly illegal!"

"He doesn't care," Bail said, "And it won't be illegal for much longer. You said that the Chancellor called for a special session of the Senate? He intends to use it to turn government and public opinion against the Jedi, and to dispel the illusion of democracy he's held over us for so long. He's going to make himself a dictator."

If Mon appeared to have been stricken by Padmé's news, Bail's made her look as though she had been stabbed in the heart. She fell back into an unseen chair. "This can't be," she said quietly. "I can't believe that Palpatine would do this." She looked up at her two fellow Senators. "Can anything be done?"

Padmé took over. "We can't stop the announcement, it's too late for that. But we can try and make sure that as many Senators as possible learn about his duplicity before he gives his speech. If enough of the delegation can be roused, we can start making plans to counter Palpatine's influence before it spreads too far. Can you help us with this? Talk to Giddean, Fang, and Chi for us?"

Mothma shook her head. "No, Padmé. I'm sorry, but I'm not on Coruscant."

Padmé and Bail looked stunned. "What?"

"I left a few hours ago," Mon said apologetically. "There was an emergency at home, and I'm getting ready to land on Chandrila now. I was planning to attend the Senate meeting virtually. I'm so sorry Padmé."

Bail swore and moved out of the camera feed. Padmé was crushed, but she didn't let it show. "Don't worry, Mon. Everything is not lost. You believe us though, don't you?"

Mothma nodded. "Completely. I'll help anyway I can."

"All right, then Bail and I will contact the others. Would it be possible for you to talk to Governor Strickham for us on Chandrila?"

Mon nodded. "I am scheduled to meet with him after I land. I will make it a priority to discuss the situation with him."

"Thank you Mon," Padmé said gratefully. "We are going to need all the help we can get."

Bail moved back into the camera's view. "I understand that you are taking an enormous risk to your homeworld and your career by agreeing to help us, Mon. We cannot thank you enough for chancing such a sacrifice."

Mon smiled. "It is nothing, my friends. I will sacrifice far more in service of freedom for the people of this galaxy. I will come to you as soon as I can."

"Good luck, Mon," Padmé told her friend. "May the Force be with you."

They ended the communication. Padmé immediately started adjusting the channels again. "We should contact the others right away."

Bail brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. "I'm very sorry, Padmé, but would it be possible for you to do that on your own? I promised Breha that I would see her as soon as we arrived on Alderaan, but we've been here two hours and I still haven't gone to her. She's probably worried sick, or else she's ready to kill me. One of the two."

Padmé nodded. "Of course, Bail. Tend to her, and give her my best. I'll be done here shortly."

Bail smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Padmé."

He departed. Padmé was about to turn back to the communications array, but she stopped as a wave of tiredness suddenly swept over her. She had not slept since leaving Coruscant, and it was affecting her work, as much as she hated to admit it. There was still so much to be done, and to do it, she had to be at her peak.

A ray of sun from a high window descending onto her face. It was getting late, and her heart was not in this. She wanted to be able to go out and watch the famous Alderaanian sunset over the ancient Castle Lands. She wanted to go down to the ocean and dive into its sparkling waters. She wanted to find Anakin, who had disappeared almost immediately after they had arrived, and simply have him hold her, in peace.

But she could not give into her overwhelming urges. If there was to be any hope of inhibiting Palpatine's grab for power, then she had to alert as many of her fellow Senators in the Delegation of Two Thousand as possible, and convince them to help form the new Alliance. She had no idea when Palpatine was going to make his move, so she could not afford to take any time for herself. The sunset would come again tomorrow, the ocean would always be there, and her love for Anakin would never fade, but if the shadow of Palpatine's influence spread too far, even those lights would be dimmed, and the light of freedom would be lost – possibly forever.

The ray sun of disappeared from the window. Padmé sighed, and turned back to her work.

Anakin Skywalker sat a small table in his secluded quarters, his door locked and the windows shut. Though several times visitors had come to his door and called for him, he had never responded. His entire attention was focused on the collection of parts strewn in front of him: power cells, emitters, energy redoublers, focusing lenses, a chassis, and various luminescent crystals. He was constructing a new lightsaber.

Though it had been three years since he had needed to make one, his fingers moved as deftly and reflexively as though it had been yesterday. He worked with the efficiency of a machine, coupled with the delicate care of an artist, snapping components into place and fine-tuning the intricate connections. It was an ambitious design, one that few masters would dare to attempt, but Anakin had such a gift with technology that he was able to complete the arrangement of parts without a single error. He had added several components that his last lightsaber had not possessed, such as a redoubling circuit that greatly increased the power of the beam while halving the power needed to generate it. It would be truly a magnificent weapon once he had finished, but Anakin was not taking excessive pride in his work. He knew that he still held an attachment to his former weapon, which he had lost on Coruscant – to Vader.

After two hours, all the components were in place. Now he needed to choose a crystal. Anakin scanned his choices. There were green, gold, silver, and even synthetic red and purple. Anakin's eyes lingered on the purple crystal briefly, then he shook his head. No, only Master Windu could pull that off. Anakin might have respected Mace greatly as a warrior, but his taste in lightsaber colors was suspect at best.

Anakin reached for the final crystal in line – blue. He knew that it was old, but he held an unshakeable affinity for that color. It had been the color of every lightsaber he had ever made. Obi-Wan had always preferred it too; all his lightsabers had been blue save for the one he had inherited from Qui-Gon. Even now, after he had abandoned the Jedi for the Sith, his lightsaber was still blue, defying the Sith tradition of red. Why?

Anakin carefully inserted the crystal into its place behind the focusing lens. In all likelihood, it had something to do with the lingering significance of his Jedi heritage, a symbol of what he had once been. Whether this symbol was for good or ill, Anakin couldn't say. But it seemed appropriate that he carry on the legacy.

All that he needed to do now was seal the chassis, then try his new weapon. Anakin was about to do that when there was a knock on his door.

The young Jedi rolled his eyes. He didn't want to see whoever it was, unless it was Padmé, which he knew it wasn't. She was still downstairs, killing herself with more work than any human being should ever subject themselves to. But the knocking didn't stop, so Anakin finally used the Force to unlock the door. "Come in."

Mace Windu stepped into his quarters. "Is this a bad time, Anakin?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've been subject to worse interruptions."

Mace crossed over to Anakin's desk and examined the open chassis of his lightsaber, as well as the components on the desk. "Not purple, eh?"

Anakin winced. "No."

Mace sighed. "Ah, well. Perhaps someday."

Anakin was unable to hide a small grin. He buried it quickly, but Mace saw it.

"Are you feeling better, Anakin?"

The younger Jedi shrugged. "Better than what, Master?"

Mace stared at him pointedly. Anakin looked down and sighed.

"I don't know, Master. I suppose some of my anger has cooled. I apologize for accusing you like that, and for my tone. It was unwarranted. But as for the rest of what I said …"

"You don't regret it, do you?"

Anakin shook his head. "No."

Mace sighed. "Anakin, can you tell me why you believe that the Council betrayed Obi-Wan? I have searched my memory for possible justifications of your charge, but I have not been able to find anything definite. Perhaps your answer will help my understanding."

Anakin looked up. "Several things. First was their shift in attitude towards him. They were always suspicious of me to a certain extent, and I know that Pablo-Jill and others opposed my appointment to the Council. But Obi-Wan was the traditional Jedi, totally devoted to the code. They never had any qualms with him … until he started to support me more openly. His views shifted gradually away from utter conformity to the code to a more expansive, conflicted outlook. There were seeds of something radical, almost heretical … something they always condemned in me and other like me, like Master Qui-Gon. As soon as that happened, they distanced themselves from him, and when he disappeared, they seemed almost relieved that a potentially radical and disruptive voice had been removed from the Council, even before it had truly surfaced."

Mace's face was neutral. "Go on."

"Second was their stance on him after his disappearance. Pablo-Jill, for one, refused to accept any possibility that Obi-Wan might be alive. He opposed looking for Grievous, he opposed sending search parties for Obi-Wan, and he feverishly denied that the Sith had any involvement. When I confronted him, he was brimming with excuses and justifications that I perceived as totally insincere, like he was trying to cover something up."

Still, Mace was silent. Anakin pressed on.

"Finally, there was Obi-Wan himself. When I discovered that I was fighting him, I asked him why: why had he joined the Sith? His answer was that while he was being held captive by Grievous, he had discovered indisputable evidence that the Jedi Council had been in league with the General and the Separatists, and had leaked information that had led to his capture. When he said that, I was looking right at him; right into his eyes. He wasn't lying. I've known him almost my entire life, and I could always tell when he was holding back the truth. He truly believes that he has been betrayed. And I'm sorry about this Master," he said looking up at Mace, "But even now, I still trust Obi-Wan's word … especially over theirs."

Mace held Anakin's stare evenly, scrutinizing the Chosen One in total silence. Finally, he broke the gaze.

"I see the strength of your conviction, Anakin," he said quietly. "It pains me to say that I cannot counter your evidence. It pains me because I know in the depths of my heart that you are wrong. Traditional, inflexible, and even weak as the masters of the Council may have been their final days, I believe that they would not sell out their one of their own, especially for political gain. Perhaps it is folly, but I cannot surrender that belief."

Mace took a step away, gazing out of the high window, where the dying sun was still visible. "I know I cannot sway you, Anakin," he continued, "but I can hope. I can hope that one day, the Force will show you the light, and that you will be able to forgive them."

Anakin was about to make a derisive comment, but Mace looked so solemn that he held himself back. Instead, he turned back to his lightsaber. "Master Windu, where are the others?"

Mace turned back to him. "You don't need to call me Master anymore, Anakin. That title means little now. I think if we are to rebuild the broken bonds of trust, then it is necessary for us to speak on level footing. As equals."

Anakin felt suddenly uncertain, and more than a little uncomfortable. "All right then, Mast … Mace. Where are the others?"

"Your wife and Senator Organa are downstairs, attempting to raise our allies in the Senate. Sabé is asleep; she needs it desperately. Yoda …Yoda is meditating. He is difficult to read, but I believe that he is probing the Force for the meaning of recent events, and asking it for answers."

Anakin frowned. "Does he have to meditate to do that? We ask the Force for answers while conscious almost every day."

Mace stepped back towards Anakin. "Anakin, I am going to tell you something important. It is unfortunate that we use the phrase asking the Force for answers so liberally and inappropriately. It is a great misnomer. The Force itself does not provide answers for us on a routine basis. What it does is help us reach our inner self, our purest state of existence, where we are able to examine every conflict in a much more illuminated state. Answers that we believe come from the Force actually come from deep inside ourselves. At this level, no one person is fundamentally good or evil. Therefore, one can choose their course based solely on their own most elemental instincts and principals. These choices reverberate throughout our entire beings and from there expand outwards to affect the lives of others as well. The effect is what determines if the action is perceived by others as good or evil, but only the person who made the choice at this innermost level can truly comprehend its original purpose."

Anakin was silent, absorbing this information. He wasn't sure if he really understood it.

Mace continued. "The only time when the Force itself will provide an answer is when the being in question is so completely torn, so utterly conflicted, that his innermost soul has been torn into pieces. Then, the Force will manifest itself and bridge the gap between the conflicting sides, aiding the being in choosing the right path. Such a thing happens very rarely, usually once in a lifetime. Even then, it is still reacting to the person. The Force, like the beings who touch it, is not purely good or evil. It can lead you to light, or to darkness. But the true power always lies within ourselves. Whatever we hold to be most important in our lives, the Force will flow through us in such a manner as to help us attain our goal. It unifies us on every level, becoming what we call "The Living Force".

Anakin tried to take in everything Mace was saying, but it washed over him so suddenly that he was not able to grasp every nuance before it slipped away into the corners of his mind. "I'm sorry, Mast … Mace. I don't understand."

Mace did not seem troubled. "But you will not forget it?"

Anakin shook his head. "No."

"Good. Then I have done all I needed to do. When the time comes, you will be the one to call upon it, and decide what it means to you."

He turned to leave. "When you are done here, meet me in the War Room. There are still things that need to be done before Palpatine gives his speech.

Anakin didn't know what to say, but just before the Jedi Master left the room he found his voice. "Mace! Obi-Wan had to have been deeply conflicted before he turned. Does what you said mean that the Force showed him that he was destined to join the Dark Side?"

Mace paused and turned back to Anakin, his expression both grave and thoughtful.

"I don't know, Anakin. It would seem so, though I wouldn't have thought it possible. But there is a chance … a definite chance … that Obi-Wan is still in the process of making that choice. Maybe the Force hasn't yet shown him what his true destiny is to be. But whatever the case, I believe that Obi-Wan still has a very important role to play, for himself and for all of us, before this is over."

With those words, the Jedi Master made his exit.

Anakin remained seated at his desk for a long time, thinking about what Mace had imparted to him. Finally, he turned back to his lightsaber and sealed the chassis. He stood up and pressed the ignition switch, and a meter-long blade of pure blue light shot into existence, pulsing with dangerous power. Anakin took a few complex experimental swings, then stared at his new blade. At its core, the brilliant light formed a series of ethereal shapes, the most prominent was the face of his old master, now Darth Vader. From the depths of the blade, Vader's surreal visage stared at him, demanding the answer to a question that Anakin did not know. When he shut the blade off, Vader's face remained etched in front of his eyes.

The pain was still fresh. Even during the few short minutes that Obi-Wan had been the subject of conversation, Anakin had felt a stabbing pain in his chest, as though a lightsaber had been thrust through his heart. He wanted desperately to be able to shut it out, but he couldn't do it, any more than he could detach himself from the Force. Every time he touched it, Vader was there.

Mace was right; Obi-Wan still had an important role to play, especially for Anakin. Their fates were linked in a way that neither yet truly understood, but no doubt they would discover its meaning in time.

Anakin clipped his new weapon onto his belt and left his quarters. It's just like old times, he thought to himself, and to Obi-Wan. Either one of us will save the other, or we will be each other's death.

It was oddly comforting to know that even in a galaxy where everything was changing, their one bond of brotherhood, for good or ill, had the strength to endure.