Anakin waited until the fire had burned down entirely before he rose.

"Ani?" Mom.

He froze then twisted slightly to smile at her. "I'm stirring the fire. Go back to sleep."

She stretched out a hand, and he came back to take and hold it gently. She ran her thumb over his knuckles and smiled. "You're a good boy, Anakin. I am so proud of you."

He flushed. "Love you, Mom."

"I love you too."

He pressed a kiss and a gentle sleep suggestion to her forehead, and she blinked sleepily once before she laid back down and drifted off. He brushed her hair back from her face. "I'll be back soon. I promise." Then he stirred the fire, woke Avee from her sun-powered charging dock, and stole from the house. Out in the cool night air, he took a deep breath and folded the Force and the shadows around himself until he was well hidden then he snuck past the patrol to the foot of the first stone mound. There he used the Force to move a boulder aside, revealing the pack he'd hidden the day before. It had just enough supplies to get him to the city—he felt bad taking anything more.

Anakin shouldered the pack and glanced back at the village. He had to go. He had to. He couldn't let his dreams be real.

Stealing back into the village and evading the patrol, he hot-wired one of the speeders—the jankiest of them. He wouldn't steal the good speeders—and pointed it into the dark toward the nearest city.

Avee beeped a question, and Anakin nodded. "Yeah, we'll be back. We just have to find Obi-Wan first."

He swung his leg over the speeder, Avee settled in front of him, and together they sped off into the night.

The Ginivex-class starfighter set down on the landing platform just outside the Parliament building, the Raxus sky grey and clouded as rain sputtered against the heat and humidity. The ship folded its artful red fan down to a long blade, and Obi-Wan exited his ship. The helmet kept the rain from his face, but he could still feel the rain and clinging heat of the Raxus summers. A few attendants working the platforms glanced at him then looked down at the sight of The White Hand.

Giving them a wide berth, Obi-Wan entered the parliament building and went straight to Dooku's office where he found the CIS' head of state on a holo conference call. The office was carefully decorated, the dark woods and fabrics designed to project stability and power-to impress. The air trembled faintly with the Dark Side, just enough that a non-Force sensitive might feel only mild intimidation. Just enough to remind Obi-Wan where he was. The White Hand approached then went down on one knee, head lowered. Dooku glanced at him then returned to his conversation. "See that the fleet is ready to be deployed should the Republic step out of line, General Jin."

The general from Serenno nodded. "Yes, your grace."

"General Grievous."

"Yes, my lord?" The cyborg's voice was a harsh rasp, and Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and kept his face neutral.

"How are the preparations on Falleen and Kashyyyk proceeding?"

"On schedule, my lord. Should the Republic attack, we will be mobilized at a moment's notice to crush them."

"Take care, Grievous. I'm sure you've heard Queen Amidala's numerous thoughts on the matter, but she is right about one thing: we must not be the ones to fire the opening shot."

Grievous bowed slightly. "Yes, my lord."

"Dismissed." Dooku waved a hand to end the call, and a holomap of the galaxy replaced the army commanders. Then, "You're late."

Obi-Wan suppressed a smirk. "Late, my lord? I recall your instructions were only to return as soon as possible."

The count only gave him an exasperated look before he folded his arms and looked to the holomap. The projection flickered through several views, close-ups of hyperlanes, cross-cuts of border sectors, each casting deep shadows over Dooku's sharp face.

Necessary dues observed, Obi-Wan rose to his feet and removed his helmet. "So, how goes the cold war?"

"As ever."

Obi-Wan snorted and took up a spot across the holoprojector. "That badly then? I'm still not sure about Grievous."

"Your cloak and dagger tactics may have worked against the pirates and the Black Sun, but we need Grievous." Dooku tapped a command on the console, and gold lights lit across the blue galaxy like signal lights. These must have been the army and fleet movements he had been discussing with the generals. "We have limited options for generals who handle a war on the scale we're facing. Unless you're volunteering your service."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said dryly. He crossed his arms, helmet dangling from his right hand. "Because I'm not busy enough, let me run a war for you."

"Watch your tone, apprentice ."

The warning didn't have any real bite to it, but it was enough to know Dooku was in short temper today. The count hadn't thrown lightning at him in a while, but Obi-Wan wasn't in the mood for a lesson, so he bowed his head. "Apologies, master."

Placated, Dooku turned off the console and folded his arms. "Was your mission successful?"

"It was." He took an attention posture, hands clasped behind his back, heels of his boots together. "Corellia is making ships as fast as they can get the metal to smelt them. In two years, the Republic will have doubled its fleet. Or rather, they would have. There was a bit of an accident with the central fuel tanks that may slow production significantly."

"Hmm." The Sith Lord strode to his desk. "What a tragedy."

"Yes, especially to the guild's pocketbook," Obi-Wan said dryly. "At least no one was hurt."

"How fortunate, though I recall telling you Visz removal would be more effective."

Obi-Wan kept his face blank. "The Guild would just replace her. It will cause them more problems to deal with the mess."

"Then let's hope your sabotage was thorough." Dooku curled his lip back in clear disapproval. "But I have a mission for you that may be more to your liking. We've had news from the Core."

"Oh? Good news or bad?"

"Any news is good news that can be turned to your own advantage."

Obi-Wan looked past Dooku to the window where the rain streaked down the glass in long rivulets. Always hunting for the advantage. Always looking for the upper hand instead of extending it. It had been exhausting those first few years, trying to keep up with Dooku's machinations, let alone outmaneuver him. Now it was almost second nature. The wind was picking up outside, and a few aides sprinted across the grounds with their datapads over their heads like umbrellas. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Dooku and gestured with one hand. "Well, then let's try it with a little optimism at least."

Dooku gave him an unimpressed look but continued. "Nute Gunray's fourth trial just found him innocent of all charges. He's reclaimed all his former holdings and his position as viceroy of the Trade Federation."

Obi-Wan stared for a moment then gritted his teeth, and the Dark Side reached for him. "That's absurd."

"Indeed, but not unexpected."

"I knew the Republic was corrupt, but I had held out hope their courts might at least be functional ." He shook his head. "He'll be after Queen Amidala then."

"He is also the most direct link we have to Sidious."

Obi-Wan frowned. The fact that Gunray was still alive instead of dead in a cell somewhere meant Sidious still had plans for the Nemodian and the Trade Federation, and now that the Viceroy wasn't in the Republic's loving custody… "The Viceroy and I may need to have a meeting of our own."

"You'll get your chance at the Viceroy soon enough, my friend." Dooku waved a hand dismissively. "For now, Amidala is our priority. She is on Naboo now, and I have sent word that you will be joining her guard."

Surprised, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. The queen and her pro-peace coalition had been clashing with Dooku for the better part of two years. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Are you sending me because I'm supposed to protect her or because you want to say you put in a good effort?" He'd played fast and loose with Dooku's orders before, and his master had tolerated it as long as the overall goal was accomplished, but if Dooku wanted Amidala dead, he'd have to get another assassin.

A sardonic smile turned up the corner of Dooku's mouth. "Perceptive, Obi-Wan, but despite our disagreements, she will bring more systems to our cause alive than martyred." He folded his arms. "I suggest you follow orders for once."

The Dark Side drew close around the two men like it was holding its breath.

"Have I ever failed you before, my lord?"

"Never," Dooku acceded.

"Then I see no reason to start now." The White Hand slid his helmet on and left the room.

When Anakin reached the city, he fixed up the speeder with a few spare parts out of a dumpster behind a mechanic shop then sold it to the mechanic for enough credits to get off-world to the next system. Not much but he and Obi-Wan had gotten further on less.

With Avee at his shoulder, he made his way to the spaceport and started hunting for a cheap-looking freighter. Anything too badly disrepaired meant the captain might take any job he could get, which Anakin couldn't afford to get mixed up in. Anything too nice meant he couldn't afford it or could risk getting kidnapped, and he hadn't come this far to end up back with the Hutts.

Of course, if he'd had a lightsaber, he could have gotten a ride on any of them just fine.

Guilt panged in his chest. He hadn't meant to yell at Master Depa like that. She just didn't understand how badly he needed a lightsaber. He'd waited so long; he'd earned it. And now that he was dreaming again, he needed it. He needed it so bad, his chest ached with the fear of his dreams. They weren't the Sith-looking dreams like he'd had before Lothal, but they always ended with fire and blood and crying and a single black tower jutting into a purple sky. Whatever it meant, he hated that tower. He wouldn't let it get his mom or Depa or Caleb or Ahsoka or anybody else.

If they wouldn't give him a lightsaber to protect the village with, he'd have to make sure the danger followed him away from Lothal.

"Hey, Skywalker."

At the sound of his name, he froze and whirled. A Mon Cala leaned against the wall, a traveler's cloak pulled over her head and a relaxed air about her.

He blinked. "Bant?"

She'd been padawans with Obi-Wan a long, long time ago. Before the galaxy tipped over and scattered all the Jedi like sand jacks in the wind. She was quick, determined, and a little sad, but she had some good stories about Obi-Wan, but why was she here?

The Mon Cala smiled lopsidedly from the shadows. "You're thinking so loud, I could hear you from two blocks over."

Oops. Anakin slammed his shields up and sent out a command in the Force for everyone to look away. A man jostled him the next moment and passed by without a backward glance. Then Anakin slunk over to the alley and gave her an accusing look. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you." She didn't have to say it like it was so obvious.

He scowled. "Why, so you could get me in even more trouble with Depa?"

The mottled orange knight shook her head. "No. Your grandmaster noticed you leaving and asked us to look after you."

Oh. "Mace sent you after me? Why didn't he just stop me?"

She shrugged. "Sounded like he understood why you were leaving, and he asked us to bring you back in one piece."

Anakin leaped out of her reach, and Avee followed. "I'm not going back."

"We're not asking you too," said a new voice. Anakin spun toward the newcomer and came eye-to-eye with Nahdar's great black pupils. The older padawan smiled and put his webbed hands on his hips. "We're coming with you."

"What?"

"If you're going to find Obi-Wan, we can help."

Anakin frowned. If they weren't going to try to drag him back, he could use the help. It'd be safer jumping from ship to ship too since both Mon Cala had lightsabers. "Okay. But I only have enough money for my passage, so we might have to stowaway."

"I think we can manage that," Bant said with a smile. She grabbed two satchels from behind a crate and handed one to her padawan before putting on her own. "Where do we start?"

Anakin scanned the spaceport for a new target-a large, jumpable freighter in the middle of moving cargo. There. He pointed. "That one."

"All right, but first. What's the plan, Anakin?" Nahdar crossed his arms. "Master Kenobi has been out there for five years and hasn't found us. What makes you think you can find him?"

"We were a team, okay? I'll find him."

Bant raised a webbed hand in a calming gesture. "We will find him. But we need a place to start looking. You must have had somewhere in mind when you took off."

Anakin frowned. "Well, the way I see it, Obi-Wan's been out there for five years, so we need to find somebody he might have talked to. And I know just the lady we need."

"And who is that?"

He glanced at the ships and spied a freighter loading up big crates of cargo. The yellow paint was chipped and faded but the engine intakes looked as good as new, which meant the captain cared. With a cargo hold that large, they could avoid any patrols or workers. That was their ride.

"Come on." He jumped up the side of the building, using a fire escape ladder to catch himself and make another jump to the roof. The master and padawan followed close behind. Once they were all up, he took off along the flat roofs, leaping from roof to roof until they reached the warehouse where the cargo trolley was running back and forth from. Gripping the edge of the roof above the door, Anakin pushed his torso off the edge and dangled head down to peer inside.

A couple of Pykes stood marking off boxes on a manifest, and he could just spy the route on top of the datapad. Perfect. A second cargo trolley picked up a crate and rolled toward the warehouse exit.

Anakin flopped back up and waved to the Mon Cala Jedi. "All right. That's our ride."

"Oh, I see. Clever." And Nahdar tapped his forehead in a knowing gesture before he leaned over the edge. As the whine of the trolley passed below, the three Jedi leaped onto the top of the crate and fell flat on their backs. The trolley wheeled them into the ship's hold and stacked their crate amid a pile of others. Once the trolley trundled away, Nahdar raised his head. "That was…easy."

Bant made an amused noise in her throat. "I think the hard part is getting off at the right stop, padawan."

"Ah."

They lay perfectly still as the Pykes loaded the last of the cargo and the huge bay doors slowly closed, plunging the hold into a dimness lit only by pale green emergency lights. The ship engines rumbled, and slight inertia held them in place as they blasted up and out of the atmosphere and into hyperspace. Then the padawans sat up and stretched, and Nahdar offered a grin. "So, Padawan Skywalker. Where is this estimable ship taking us?"

Anakin grinned back. "You ever been to Naboo?"

The White Hand entered the sunny throne room of the Naboo monarchy, helmet tucked under his arm. Queen Amidala, just beginning her third term as ruler, sat on the throne bedecked in her traditional red gown and flanked by two handmaidens. A sting of deja vu struck him as he approached the throne and the woman seated on it. The last time he had been here, he had been freshly shorn of his padawan braid and his master. That Obi-Wan had been lost in a haze of grief and anger he barely knew how to hold, but he'd stood in the throne room with Anakin, the pair of lost boys trying to land on their feet. Neither of them hadn't been listening at all when Amidala took the call from Palpatine announcing the Jedi Council's treachery.

Then the world had ended a second time.

Obi-Wan stopped the appropriate distance from the throne and bowed deeply. "Your majesty."

She bowed her head, and the sunlight glittered off her elaborate headdress. "Welcome to Naboo, Master Kenobi."

He straightened and glanced at the two handmaidens and recognized them—Sabé and Yané. He nodded to them as well. It had gotten easier to tell them apart over the years. Queen Amidala gestured to an empty chair that looked as if it had been left out for that specific purpose. Obi-Wan seated himself, helmet rested on his knee. He was wearing the sharp white suit specifically for his more public missions—all clean lines and careful layers meant to seamlessly move him through the upper echelons of galactic politics—a white knight come to serve. It was an illusion of course; he hadn't been a knight in a long time, and he'd accepted that without complaint, but the blaster resistant weave came in handy.

The queen leaned back on her throne, still an imposing presence for a nineteen-year-old. She wasn't Force-sensitive, but the Force hung around her with a certainty that Obi-Wan found reassuring. She had become a symbol of the Separatist movement—a young ruler who had thrown off the greed and corruption of the Core to let her people determine their own destiny. When the queen spoke, she had relaxed the deep royal accent for something closer to her normal speaking voice. "I assume you are aware of Nute Gunray's recent pardon."

"And his reinstatement as Viceroy, your majesty. My master believes he and the Republic may attempt to assassinate you to provoke the Separatists to war."

She waved a hand dismissively, her white nail polish catching the light. "It will hardly be the first time someone has tried to kill me over politics, Obi-Wan. Surely you are needed elsewhere in these uncertain times."

"I am afraid Count Dooku disagrees—"

"Hardly surprising."

"—and I must defer to his judgment." He smiled good-naturedly. The queen was aware of his identity under the helmet, but like the rest of the galaxy, she thought Obi-Wan and Dooku were still Jedi. It was easier to let them think it, even if made his stomach burned to think they believed a Jedi could do the things he had done.

Still smiling, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "And to be blunt, I'd rather you stayed alive to give my master the runaround."

As long as people like Padme were around, the Sith guiding the CIS would still be bound by some moral compass, and Obi-Wan would cut down a thousand assassins to keep it that way.

"Careful, Obi-Wan." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You sound one of my friends."

"I would consider that a great honor, your majesty." Now, with your permission, your majesty." He rose to his feet and slid on his helmet. The sunlight dimmed to a red glow, washing the throne room in crimson. "Now with your permission, I'd like to get acquainted with your security."

Caedus input the coordinates from his master—a little estate not far from Theed that would serve as the staging ground for the mission. It was vital they were successful. The future of his master's plans-and his own future-depended on it.

As the sleek stealth ship slipped from orbit to hyperspace, the apprentice folded his four arms across his chest and looked out the viewport. He wore the same dismal black as all the other Reforged. No sign he had clawed his way to the apprentice's seat with his own strength. The discontent in his stomach rumbled up into his broad chest and past his teeth with a growl, and the Dark Side whispered in his ear.

If only he succeeded in this mission, he would have power unlimited, and the other Reforged would grovel at his feet.

The Dark Side thickened in the small ship, and he spoke to it. "I am the true apprentice, and once I kill the queen, Lord Sidious will see that the spares are not needed."

Then the stars lengthed to the white streaks of hyperspace, and the ship was gone.

Author's Note:

Because fashion, Obi-Wan's White Hand outfit but imagine it in all white

https: post/160896075545/outfit-for-anakin-skywalker-visions-of-the

Caedus is a Sith name, Latin for "carnage." I know it's Jacen's Sith name, but it's perfect, I promise.

Reviews:

Djanka Lee: Thank you! I love Garen and Bant a lot and love seeing them still appearing in fic even if they aren't canon anymore.