Chapter 44

"Anakin!"

Anakin Skywalker, panting with fatigue, a fresh coat of sweat covering his face, pulled himself into a standing position, his chest and stomach aching from the painful burn that he had just received at the hand of his opponent. His lightsaber, which just seconds ago had been spun expertly from his grasp, had ceased rolling and come to rest about five meters away, against the far wall of the sparring chamber. Without his precious weapon, Anakin felt exposed, and even worse, vulnerable. He despised the feeling with every fiber of his being, and wished with all his might that he had not tried to show off quite so much. There would not be serious consequences – apart from him and his opponent, the chamber was empty, so he was to be spared unnecessary humiliation. Even the burn he received was inconsequential, for their weapons had been set at their lowest power level, an intensity that could only cut through the thinnest material. Nevertheless, Anakin would have preferred a moderate injury to the lecture that was sure to follow.

Obi-Wan deactivated his own blade and held it loosely at his side, letting out an exasperated and all-too-familiar sigh. "Anakin, what were you doing?"

The eighteen year old Padawan lowered his head, unwilling to meet the judgmental scrutiny that he knew would be lingering in Obi-Wan's sharp blue eyes. "Master, I was …taking a creative liberty."

Though he couldn't see it, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan had just raised his eyebrow. "A creative liberty? That is what you call such an extravagant move?"

Anakin shrugged, hot shame burning in his throat. "I'm sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan sighed again. "Anakin, look at me."

Reluctantly, Anakin raised his head. To his surprise, Obi-Wan's eyes did not hold the disapproving, judgmental look that he had been expecting. They simply looked tired.

"You were using textbook form for several minutes," Obi-Wan said. "And then, suddenly, you abandoned it for a complex and inefficient maneuver. Why?"

Anakin swallowed. "I was trying to take you by surprise."

"You succeeded," Obi-Wan quipped, "Although not in the manner that you had hoped to, I believe. Anakin, do you realize that up until that point, you had the advantage in our duel?"

Anakin shook his head. "No, Master. I thought that you did."

"Hardly," Obi-Wan told him. "You are faster, stronger, and younger than I am, and you would have worn me down eventually. The only reason that I was able to turn the tables so suddenly was that I was patient, and I waited for my opportunity to strike. Then I was ready for it when it came. I capitalized on the opening that you gave me, but I never overextended myself. Do you see what I am saying?"

Anakin nodded grudgingly. "Yeah. I do."

"Anakin, listen to me," Obi-Wan said seriously. "You are proud of your dueling skills, and with good reason. At eighteen, you are extremely accomplished, capable of defeating any Padawan or Knight who challenges you, and a good percentage of the Masters as well. You even have the hardware to prove it." He cast a meaningful glance at Anakin's tunic, beneath which the Padawan wore the medallion he had earned by winning the Temple's annual Knight's division sparring competition that year. "Certain aspects of your dueling ability are so advanced that you have not needed a complete skill set to succeed."

"It wasn't enough against you, though," Anakin muttered. He didn't know what else to do.

"Yes, Anakin, and that's because skill and physical power are not the only facets of your ability that you should utilize. You also need to exercise patience and balance, sometimes conceding your opponent a point or two to keep your overall goal within reach. I know that this is difficult for you to understand, but you don't have to be completely dominant to win a duel. You just have to be strong enough and well-rounded enough to outlast your opponent, while controlling a few key aspects."

"But my style is different from yours, Master," Anakin objected. "Djem So utilizes …"

"I know, Anakin," Obi-Wan interrupted. "But this lesson isn't form specific, and I'm not trying to convert you to my way of fighting. We each have our own strengths, and this advice will help you take advantage of yours."

Anakin could think of no rebuttal, so he bought himself time by directing his attention to the side of the room and summoning his lightsaber back to him. When he looked up again, Obi-Wan was standing right in front of him. His master reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, the instructor's manner giving way to the comforting demeanor of a close friend.

"Don't worry too much about it, Anakin," he said warmly. "You have time. As your knowledge of the Force grows, so will your confidence. It won't be long before you can handle whatever challenge comes your way."

Anakin's face broke into a smile, an expression that carried with it a deep sense of relief. "Well, maybe not every challenge. You would probably still find a way to beat me, if it ever came down to it and we faced off in a real duel."

Obi-Wan laughed, and together the two friends headed for the door.

"With the grace of the Force, we never will."


Fire had consumed Anakin Skywalker's universe. The deadly landscape of Mustafar burned around him with an ancient destructive power that could never be quelled. Instinctively hostile, the demonic world possessed the capability to bring out the worst in life, inspiring the most savage emotions and encouraging the darkest inclinations. As the heavy sulfurous atmosphere swirled around him and permeated his lungs, Anakin felt the walls he had built within his soul disintegrating, allowing the darkness which he had contained for so many years to escape and fuse with his sense of purpose. The rage that had come to him when confronting Asajj Ventress merged with it seamlessly, forging the foundation of the resolve that he would need to strike down his brother.

Anakin wasted no time with feeling out his opponent. He launched head-first into an all-out attack, the fury of which immediately thrust Darth Vader onto the defensive. Tension built up in his arms, only to be released a second later with a swing of crushing power. The attack was intercepted by the opposing lightsaber, and within half a second Anakin had withdrawn his blade and struck again with even greater veracity. This time, he got closer to striking his opponent's body, but was parried again. Undaunted, Anakin chained together twenty slashes in quick succession, failing to punch through Vader's guard, but succeeding in driving the darksider ruthlessly backward.

Dimly, from the edges of his senses, Anakin could perceive a woman screaming. She was trailing helplessly in his wake, pleading desperately with him and his opponent to stop their fight. But the roaring in his ears was so great that her words failed to reach his rational mind, and her entreaty was futile. All Anakin could focus on was the familiar, but now contemptible face of his former master, twisted into an inhuman snarl as he fought off Anakin's deadly assault.

The young Jedi's rampage took the two combatants to the furthest reaches of the platform, Vader's heels touched the edge, where three hundred meters below a boiling river of molten magma flowed slowly by. Unable to retreat any further, Vader took a stand, grounding himself in place with the Force. As Anakin tried to chain a final slash onto the end of his combination, Vader slammed his blade forward, arresting his motion in mid-swing. Whipping his weapon around in a circle, Vader forced Anakin to take a step back, giving the Sith Lord the space he needed to escape his prison. He quickly somersaulted through the air to the catwalk leading back to the control room.

Anakin turned, cursing inwardly that Vader had maneuvered himself out of trouble. A challenging snarl crossed the Dark Lord's face, inciting his former apprentice to follow him. Anakin took the challenge, rushing Vader head-on and once more locking their weapons in combat.

The two powerful Force-users traded rapid blows, their blades moving too fast for an untrained human eye to track. The woman's plea's had reached a feverish pitch, but she could not draw close to the combatants for fear of being hit by their flailing lightsabers, and neither Anakin nor Vader could spare any attention for her. They advanced along the short catwalk at a furious pace, until they both passed through the narrow doorway leading into a connecting corridor. The pneumatic portal sealed itself with a definitive hiss, and the sounds of Sabé's tearful appeals were ruthlessly cut off.

The duel instantly became much more dangerous in the close confines. With no room for elaborate moves such as flips or spins, the emphasis of the battle shifted to physical power – and it was there that Anakin held the greatest advantage. Already equipped with the advantage of being able to move forward instead of retreating, Anakin pressed the Sith Lord determinedly backwards. A lesser opponent would have been scrambling to survive more than a few paces, but backed by the Dark Side and his own considerable physical prowess, Vader was able to stave off death without spending all of his energy.

Nevertheless, the Sith Lord was angry; Anakin could see it in his eyes. Obi-Wan Kenobi might have thrived on spending the entire battle on the defensive, waiting for his opportunity to turn the tables, but that was not Vader's way. Despite using the same style of combat as he had as a Jedi, Vader wanted to use his defense as an offense, suffocating his opponent with a shield of quick parries that he could turn into brutal slashes in less than a second. Anakin could sense him counting down the steps until they reached the control room at the end of the corridor, where the open space would level the playing field.

Anakin's anger surged at his former master's arrogant anticipation – he would not give him such an opportunity. The Chosen One increased the power of his strokes, sending his blade and his opponent's careening into the walls with every clash and releasing a violent shower of hot sparks. The air in the corridor grew progressively hotter, and it seemed that the end was near for one of the participants – until they reached the control room.

Vader immediately did a complete back flip, landing in the center of the room. Anakin noticed that it was strewn with bodies – exactly as the Jedi Temple had been when he had met Vader for the first time. But unlike then, he felt no outrage at the sight of so much death – the Separatist leaders were not worthy of his pity. The wave of hot anger that burned through his body stemmed from the treacherous Dark Lord evading his blade yet again.

He moved forward, intending to engage his opponent once more. But Vader had had enough of playing the defensive battle. With a speed that no mortal should have possessed, he sprang to attack.

The Chosen One found himself at the mercy of his former master, frantically parrying strike after strike as Vader's blade descended upon him with all the fury of the Dark Side. As he fought for his life, Anakin could not help but notice that Vader had abandoned Soresu, the form he had sworn by for thirteen years, entirely. The wide sweeping cuts and acrobatic attacks that were being directed at him now were distinctive characteristics of the Ataru style, which Obi-Wan had used as a Padawan. The last time he had employed it, Anakin remembered, had been to strike down the Sith Lord who had killed Qui-Gon on Naboo all those years ago. The user's focused rage made the form deadly.

Anakin had no time for further deliberation on the ironic shift unfolding before him. He threw all of his energy into offsetting the advantage that Vader had seized. With a series of determined slashes, he gained some slight reprieve from the threat of destruction hanging over him. Through the blinding blue barrier that their blades formed between them, he could see Vader's face. The Sith Lord's piercing blue eyes shone with a dark inner power that manifested itself in the roiling waves of Dark Side energy surrounding his body, as well as the sparks of fiery yellow that sometimes overtook them. Vader's teeth were clenched in a resolute snarl. He was not holding back.

The Sith Lord's blade crashed down in a shower of sparks centimeters from Anakin's right arm. Seizing his chance, Anakin pinned his blade, then drew back his left fist and punched Vader full in the face. The jarring impact sent a reciprocal shock back up Anakin's arm, as though he had punched a durasteel wall. Nevertheless, Vader staggered backwards, stunned by the force of the blow. Anakin quickly followed up with a brutal kick to the abdomen that sent Vader flying. Unfortunately, it also sent both of their lightsabers, locked together, spinning away.

Anakin charged toward his downed opponent at the far end of the room. Vader sprang to his feet with surprising agility to meet him.

Anakin unloaded on his opponent with a scything hook aimed at the side of Vader's head. The Sith Lord blocked the powerful punch. Undaunted, Anakin spun around and smashed his elbow into Vader's jaw. Vader absorbed the painful blow with difficulty. But as Anakin came in with another attack, Vader's hand shot out and seized his former apprentice by the back of the head. With malicious vehemence, he forced it down into direct contact with his rising knee.

Stars exploded in Anakin's field of vision, temporarily blinding him. His skull felt as though it had been split in half. Through the Force, he was barely able to locate Vader as the Sith Lord flung him unceremoniously away.

Anakin hit the ground hard in the center of the room. His vision clearing, he spied Vader coming towards him and quickly tried to rise. Not quickly enough.

Vader delivered a punishing headbutt that sent the Chosen One straight back down to the ground. A sickening wave of agony crashed through Anakin's body; somehow he was able to stop himself from screaming. Through his pain he could see Vader summoning his lightsaber back to him, preparing to deliver a crippling or even killing strike.

As always, the looming prospect of death sharpened Anakin's mind. His consciousness sliced through the fog of pain that had consumed him, reaching out for his lightsaber several meters away. Through the Force the weapon responded to his call instantly, like an old friend, and jumped back into his outstretched hand. As Vader's blade descended towards him, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, and holding it horizontally half a meter above him, blocked the Sith Lord's strike.

Vader tried to force the locked blades down towards his former apprentice. Anakin resisted him, eyes hardening into diamond chips as he concentrated. Sensing that the stalemate would not soon be broken, the Chosen One summoned the Force's energy into a powerful push that flung Vader away from him. He rolled head over heels into a crouch, then leapt to a standing position as Vader raced back to engage him again.

They traded a few parries, neither one gaining the advantage they sought. Anakin spun three hundred and sixty degrees and slashed across his body, only to meet Vader countering with an identical move. Anakin then tried to lead into an uppercut, but Vader had the same idea, and their blades clashed once more, sliding from left to right and crossing directly between their faces.

His frustration and rage building, Anakin spun once more, this time leading with his hand extended to deliver another Force push. Vader pulled the exact same stunt. The two opposing waves of power slammed into each other the centimeters between Anakin's and Vader's outstretched palms, two antagonistic wills forced together into direct confrontation. Anakin held on, his teeth tearing into his lower lip as he strained to keep up the pressure. Directly across from him, he could see beads of sweat rapidly gathering on Vader's forehead, sliding down the bridge of his nose and falling into the dark folds of his cloak. Their eyes locked, blue warring with blue, yellow with yellow, red with red.

Their resistance broke at almost exactly the same time. The staredown ended as Vader was thrown backwards, flying almost ten meters before his back collided with a hard stone pillar. The air left his lungs in an agonized gasp. Anakin had no time to appreciate it, however, because he was simultaneously gathered up by the invisible force and flung towards the far corner of the room. He slammed unmercifully into a control panel, a long metal lever jamming itself into his kidney. Savage pain boiled through his blood, and a coppery taste filled his mouth, but he refused to fold as he rolled off the panel and found his feet once more.

Vader was rising up again as well. There was a trail of blood running down his chin, suggesting that like Anakin, he had suffered some minor internal trauma. The intensity of the fire in his eyes was terrifying.

The Dark Lord of the Sith vaulted towards Anakin. The turbulent Jedi summoned the Force to aid his leap, and met Vader. They fell to the ground locked in combat, close to another control panel. Anakin swung full-force, and the sheer power of his attack carried both his and Vader's blades into the panel's display monitor.

Alarms began to shriek through the air and the image on the panel began to flash bright red, warning that the facility's main heat shields had been deactivated. An ominous groan shook the control room as it was exposed to the full force of the elements, the searing wind and the flying debris. Neither combatant cared.

Vader pulled his blade free of the sparking console and lunged for his former apprentice. Anakin retreated, drawing closer and closer to the blast door leading to a narrow catwalk outside. He used the Force to open the door, gritting his teeth as the hot air assailed him in a suffocating wave. Deliberately, he stepped back through the portal, enticing his opponent to enter a much more dangerous arena. Vader did not hesitate to follow him.


The clone's mask stared up at him. Its fearsome features were still cold and menacing, but ultimately empty. Lifeless. Beneath the mask there was another face, now equally cold, equally lifeless. A mask of death had once more descended upon the face of Jango Fett, as it had thousands of times before. Nearby lay the bodies of the soldier's brothers, dozens of them, every one marked by the same distinctive scar through which his life had ebbed away.

Snarling in anger, Emperor Palpatine put out his foot and flipped the dead clone over onto its face, not willing to tolerate the sight of such failure.

He raised his head to survey the Senate Chamber, a scene of carnage. Over fifty of his finest clone soldiers lay scattered near the ground entrance, slain. Palpatine knew that more lined the tunnel leading out of Assembly Hall, and still more would be scattered in the endless network of tunnels, service passageways, and sewers beneath Coruscant, through which the treacherous Jedi Master had retreated. As recently as twenty standard minutes ago, the sounds of blasters and a raging battle could be heard from the tunnels even from the Senate Chamber itself. Now, it was eerily silent.

Mas Amedda stood quietly several paces behind his master, holding the Imperial Staff and waiting for his master to either give a command or, more likely, explode with anger. Palpatine did neither. Instead he stood silently, brooding on an opportunity lost.

He had been anticipating that at least one survivor of Order 66 would make his or her way to Coruscant and confront him, and he had planned accordingly. Not in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that not only would two Jedi come, they would be the two most renowned Jedi Masters of the Old Order. It had seemed as if the Force had granted its master a token of its submission by yielding up the last of those who could stand against him. Palpatine had decided to fully seize this chance to assert his superiority by taking them both on at once and crushing them with his Dark Side power.

He had come so close to succeeding. Once they were separated, neither Mace Windu nor Yoda was a match for him, especially in their weakened conditions. He had had them at his mercy. But then, Windu had finally decided to stop cowering in the face of true power and embrace it, taking advantage of his dark emotions to find the necessary strength. The tables had been turned, and Palpatine had very nearly been destroyed. Had it not been for his contingency plan, the glorious reign of the Emperor would have ended before it truly left its mark on the galaxy.

Yet even then, the light-sided fools had managed to thwart their fate. Through the intervention of those disgusting aliens, Master Yoda had almost certainly managed to slip away once more. And Master Windu … the Emperor wasn't sure about him yet. The Korun Master had foolishly decided to take a stand, possibly intending to sacrifice himself in order to insure the others' escape. Whether or not he had succeeded in that was still to be determined. The last time Palpatine had seen him, Windu had been weakening, riddled with more blaster wounds than he cared to count. Yet still he had stood tall, continuing to fight as the clones pushed him back down into the tunnels.

With each passing minute, the Emperor grew less confident. It shouldn't take this long to find a body, and the injuries that the Jedi Master had already sustained should have killed him by now. Unless somehow Windu had managed to survive … no. He was only human, after all. Sooner or later, he would be found.

The sound of Mas Amedda clearing his throat respectfully drew the Emperor out of his musings. The Chagrin pointed towards the chamber entrance, from which Commander Thire and four other troopers were emerging. None of them were wounded, and Palpatine's spirits rose slightly. Maybe they came with good news.

Thire stopped a few paces away from his Emperor and bowed deeply as his armor would allow. The Emperor impatiently bid him to rise. "Well?"

Thire straightened. "There's no sign of his body, sir."

"Then he's not dead!" Mas Amedda snapped.

A sick feeling swept through Palpatine's stomach, but he ignored it. This report did not verify his fear that Master Windu had survived; it was simply inconclusive. Perhaps the Jedi had fallen down a garbage shaft, or had hidden from his pursuers in some remote side passageway, only to succumb to his wounds there. There was no point in speculating.

"Double your search," he ordered.

"Yes sir. Right away, sir." Thire saluted and he and his comrades withdrew, heading back towards the tunnels.

The Emperor was about to turn and issue a command to his majordomo, when suddenly a premonition seized him through the Force. The Senate Chamber melted away, becoming a hellish river of fire, on the banks of which two dark figures were battling, blue blade clashing on blue blade. The Emperor could not see their faces, but he knew who they were, and he could sense the dangerous power that enveloped them both. The Force offered him the briefest glimpse of the future, and then the vision faded away.

Palpatine spun on his heel to face Mas Amedda. "Tell Captain Kagi to prepare my shuttle for immediate takeoff."

Amedda bowed. "Yes, Master."

"I sense that Lord Vader is in danger."