Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.

19. Rescue, Interrupted

The heat of the suns bared down on the assembled group of people outside the Lars family home. It was made worse for Elara by the heaviness of her robe, which was not meant to endure the heat of Tatooine. It was too thick, too heavy, too dark. The collar of her wrapped tunic was too close to her throat; where it once felt comfortable, it now felt stifling. But it was all a formal part of her uniform; and this moment, this occasion––it called for formality. Elara stared despondently at the simple, rectangular slab of stone that bore her mother's name. The pain in her heart had dulled to an ache. The kind of ache that lingered, nagged, and pulled. One that reminded her that this was a kind of pain that would take time to disappear. That she would have to undergo a healing process, one that was likely going to be long and arduous.

Anakin stood beside her, his long fingers curled tightly around her own. They had spent years apart, unable to lean on one another for support in times of trouble. And now, as they stood at their mother's graveside, it was imperative that they had one another. The siblings had always been close, but they were reminded, in that moment, of how close they truly were. For if they didn't have one another, they'd surely collapse. Let the sands of Tatooine wash over them and bury them, too. The planet had always threatened to take claim of their lives; to cling to the Skywalkers and never let them go. It had already claimed one of them––a dear mother who had always deserved better. And it was all either Skywalker sibling could do to make sure that it wouldn't happen to them.

"I know, wherever you are, it's become a better place," Cliegg intoned. "You were the most… loving partner a man could ever have. Goodbye, my darling wife." He inhaled slowly, steadying. "And thank you."

No sooner than Cliegg finished, Anakin stepped forward. Elara stayed put, ready to allow him a moment alone. But he did not release her hand, and instead pulled on it to urge her to come with him. His fingers tightened around hers, and she understood––he didn't want to do this alone. And, as a matter of fact, neither did Elara. So, side-by-side, the siblings approached the headstone. Neither spoke, instead letting the distant howling wind fill their silence. Upon reaching the grave, Anakin slowly dropped to his knees, his hand finally pulling from his sister's. Elara placed her hand on his shoulder, just as she used to do when he was a child. A comforting hand, one that assured him she was there. She watched as he dug his fingers into the rocky, sandy dirt and pulled a handful away. His fingers clenched around it tightly, unwilling to let any of it go.

"I wasn't strong enough to save you, Mom," he murmured. Elara felt her heart squeeze, and her fingers tightened over his shoulder in response. "I wasn't strong enough. But I promise, I won't fail again." The sand slowly sifted through his fingers as they loosened their grasp. He rose to his feet with ease, and Elara let her hand shift from his shoulder to his back. Anakin was quiet, for a moment, after he had risen to full height. "I miss you… so much…"

And then he fell silent, breath hissing in through his teeth as he cut off a quiet cry.

Elara stepped forward, mulling over everything she wished she could tell her mother. Every story, every proud moment, every fantastical tale. But the time for that was over. Shmi would never hear of the time Anakin came rushing into her room with his newly acquired lightsaber. Or hear Elara describe what forests and oceans look like, tell her about their immense beauty. Instead, these memories could only be spoken to the carved semblance of Shmi's name, which could not speak back. Slower than Anakin had moved, she sank down to take a knee, and reached a hand forward to touch the headstone. She caressed its edge, as though it was her mother's face she was touching.

"I'm so sorry…" she murmured brokenly. "I wish I could have gotten here sooner, I wish I had known…" Elara shook her head, lips twisting at the corners. Her eyes rose to stare out beyond the headstone, at the barren desert horizon. "I love you, so much…" A slow, deep breath was taken in through her nostrils in a bid to prevent herself from crying. "We'll be okay." She looked to Shmi's name, and pictured her beautiful smiling face. "Ani and I. We'll look out for one another. I promise." She slowly leaned forward and pressed her lips against the sun warmed stone. Her brows furrowed sharply, and a tear escaped from the corner of one of her closed eyes. When her lips drew away, they were lightly coated in sand. "I promise."

With the sleeve of her robe, Elara brushed the sand off her mouth, and wiped the tear trail away. She released a long breath, steeling herself. A hand entered her field of vision––Anakin's hand. It was outstretched, fingers splayed delicately, in an offer to help her up. It was an offer she took gratefully, allowing her brother to aid in pulling her to her feet. And just as Elara was on her feet again, R2-D2 and R3-M6 came rolling up, beeping urgently in binary.

"Artoo? What are you doing here?" Padmé asked.

Artoo beeped again, central light flashing multiple colors. Arthree then chimed in as well, wobbling back and forth on his wheels. Threepio, covered in burnished silver coverings––whom Elara had hugged upon seeing again––turned to the assembled group in order to translate.

"It seems that they are both carrying a message from an Obi-Wan Kenobi," he informed, saying the name, which hung foreign in his voice. Elara perked up immediately at the mention of the Jedi Knight. "Master Ani, Mistress Elara, does that name mean anything to either of you?"

"Yes," both siblings answered simultaneously.

Arthree whirred and trilled, once again wobbling on his wheels. Artoo seemed to mimic the binary message.

"It would seem the transmission is urgent," Threepio relayed.

Elara cast one last look over at Shmi's grave. It felt as though she could hear her mother's voice urging them forward, telling them to go and live as she wanted them to. Just as she had done when they'd left Tatooine all those years ago. The memory twisted Elara's gut, but with an imperceptible nod at the memory, she turned back to the waiting droids.

"Then let's hear it."

OOOO

Padmé, Anakin, and Elara had gathered around the holoport of the Nabooian ship. The hologram of Obi-Wan glowed translucent and blue. He appeared perfectly composed, as he typically did, hands folded elegantly across his chest. His face did not convey any of the urgency that the droids had said there was.

"Elara, Anakin––my long range transmitter has been knocked out. Retransmit this message to Coruscant," the hologram requested. Padmé twisted around and pushed a button, which glowed as the message was transmitted. "I have tracked the bounty hunter Jango Fett to the droid foundries on Geonosis. The Trade Federation is to take delivery of a droid army here, and it is clear that Viceroy Gunray is behind the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala. The Commerce Guilds and the Corporate Alliance have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku and are forming a––" Obi-Wan's hologram caught sight of something, and his lightsaber was immediately drawn, "wait. Wait!" They watched as he started to deflect bolts, backing away till he disappeared––and as a droideka marched into view, blasting away.

Elara felt her heart seize as the hologram dissipated.

One of Mace Windu appeared in its place.

"Anakin. We will deal with Count Dooku. The most important thing for you is stay where you are. Protect the Senator at all costs. That is your first priority," Windu reminded.

"Understood, Master," Anakin murmured, disheartened.

"Elara," Windu's hologram addressed. "Meet us on Geonosis. You're the closest, so you will be our first set of eyes on location. Find Obi-Wan's ship, see if you can decipher where it was he was taken. But be cautious."

"Yes, Master," Elara confirmed, bowing her head in acknowledgement.

The hologram fizzled away, and the transmission stopped.

Elara swiveled her attention to her brother, who leaned back against the ship's console with a forlorn look on his face. He looked drained, both physically and emotionally. His shoulders sagged, his eyes were puffy and red, and his head lolled listlessly to the side. She reached out and placed a hand on his left cheek, righting his head gently. It made him meet her eyes. Elara could feel Anakin's fear––the fear of losing someone else that he cared for. Sense his frustration at not being allowed to ensure that he wouldn't lose Obi-Wan.

"He will not die," she promised in a whisper. Anakin inhaled sharply, lips pursing. "I won't let that happen."

Anakin nodded, a barely voiced 'I know' passing through his lips. He reached up and grasped her hand, squeezing it and running his thumb over her fingers. "Please be safe," he murmured. Something hardened in his eyes as his nostrils flared and his hold on her hand tightened. "I can't lose you, too."

"You won't. I promise." Elara stretched up on her toes as Anakin bowed his head. Her lips met his forehead. When she dropped flat on her feet again, she smiled at him as best she could. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards briefly before it fell, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"What if we went with you?" Padmé offered. She'd sat forward in the pilot's seat, her hands anxiously braced on her knees. Elara met her friend's gaze, which was pleading to do something, and she shook her head.

"I know that sitting around is making you––the both of you––anxious. But it's for the best. If you were to come with me to Geonosis, you would be walking straight into Viceroy Gunray's hands. Your safety is a priority," Elara said. "I'll contact you when it's safe to leave. I'm sure the Lars' would be happy to allow you stay a while longer."

"Elara is right," Anakin agreed. "Master Windu is right. We should stay here."

Padmé visibly deflated, a hand rising to brace over her eyes, her chest heaving in a frustrated sigh.

Elara met Anakin's eyes and nodded slowly. He returned it with a short, curt nod of his own, lips pursing. Staying still was never something that he was good at, especially when he was told to do it. It made him antsy. Uncomfortable. But she was glad he was going to listen this time. Because Elara could feel a twinge in her gut that said that Geonosis was going to be trial. It was going to be dangerous. And just as much as Anakin didn't want to lose her, she didn't want to lose him. She motioned for Arthree to follow her, and the droid trundled along beside her as they exited the ship.

Arthree whistled curiously.

Elara reached out a hand and rested it atop Arthree's dome. It swiveled a little under her touch, like he was nuzzling into her palm. The corner of her mouth quirked up a little."I'm okay," she promised.

Arthree tittered again as they approached their ship.

"We'll save him," she said assuredly. "I've already lost someone today. I won't lose another."

The fear that Elara felt for Obi-Wan burned hotly in her chest. His message had been received an hour ago. They didn't know if the droideka had injured him, if he had been taken captive, or if he'd managed to escape. But there was one thing that Elara did know––he wasn't dead. Something in her knew that, had Obi-Wan died, she would have known. Would have felt it. Just as she'd felt Anakin's pain, just as she'd felt Shmi's death. Geonosis was less than a parsec away; and that meant that she could save him. And Elara was willing to give her all to do so. Because he meant so much to Anakin. Because he meant so much to her. She had been told to be wary of affection, and maybe this was why. Because this kind of fear was painful. All she could focus on was getting him back and having him safe and in her arms again. But if affection was also what was going to save Obi-Wan's life––than Elara would happily drown in it.

OOOO

Geonosis

It was shaping up to be a very unpleasant day for Elara Skywalker.

It would seem that the Geonosians were expecting a search party. For the minute that Elara set foot inside the droid foundry, she was surrounded by droidekas and Geonosians alike. She had been careful, as Windu had implored, but it seemed like that hadn't been enough. They growled and clicked at her, accused her of espionage, and demanded her surrender. Perhaps if there hadn't been so many of them, she would have fought back. Knowing she was no good to anyone dead, and that she was very much outnumbered, Elara surrendered herself unto them. They stripped her of her brown robe, her comlink, and her lightsaber; and then they clapped her wrists in shackles and escorted her through the maze of the foundry. But instead of bringing her to some kind of prison cell, as she had expected, she had been escorted to what appeared to be a council chamber.

Elara, flanked by two Geonosians with wicked looking spears, let her eyes sweep across the room. There was a large circular table in the middle, surrounded by some ten or so chairs. But only one of them was occupied. And it was occupied by an older gentleman with snow white hair, a well-kept white beard, and dark brows. He sat with shoulders squared under a cape the same rich brown of traditional Jedi robes. There was an almost naturally imperious look to his face, which was sharp and angular.

"I thought you might appreciate this setting more than a holding cell," the man said. The baritone of his voice rumbled through the room. The sound of it might have been comforting, had Elara not known who he was. She'd seen his face in innumerable files and reports over the years.

"How thoughtful of you, Count Dooku," Elara replied lightly. She gently raised an eyebrow. "Do you treat all your prisoners with this respect?"

"You are a prisoner of the Geonosians; you are my guest." Dooku rose from his chair with a kind of deadly grace, a hand rising to rest over his chest. He bowed his head slightly, as though profering respect. "And so long as you are my guest, I will see that you are treated with respect."

Elara hummed and inclined her head slightly. Her eyes swept around the room, at the ornate way the stone walls had been carved, at the high backed chairs, which he seemed all too comfortable in. Despite being called a guest, and despite the assurance that the location was for her comfort, she very much felt as though she were being inspected. Or as though she were on trial. She'd not been offered a chair, her wrists had not been released, and the Geonosians still lurked at her shoulders. Elara was very much aware that she was not a guest. And Dooku was not whatever he was trying to get her to believe he was.

"Are all your… guests so lucky to receive such treatment?" she inquired. Her question was a subtle hint that she knew she wasn't the only Jedi there. And just as her expression betrayed nothing, Dooku's didn't either. He merely offered the smallest of smiles and raised his brows.

"I treat all my visitors with respect. But it's not every day that I meet one as special as you, Elara Skywalker." He elegantly stretched a hand forward, gesturing for her to take a seat. Elara glanced over one shoulder, then the other, at the Geonosians escorts. Then she returned her gaze to Dooku and inclined her head in thanks. She took a seat and rested her shackled hands on the table. "It is an honor to be in the presence of Master Yoda's newest apprentice."

The slightest of upturns appearing at the corners of Elara's mouth. She laced her fingers together awkwardly, the shackles only allowing for the tips of her fingers to cross. "And I suppose that I should say it is an honor to be in the presence of my predecessor. It is, unfortunately, not an honor to be standing in the presence of a traitor," she explained. She'd kept her tone light, so much so it almost came off as teasing.

It was hard to believe that this man was truly her predecessor. He had turned his back on the Order, become the dark center of such a tangled web of ideology. It was difficult to think of him training with Yoda, of being the recipient of such knowledge––knowledge that he had clearly come to abandon and ignore. Elara had heard much about him; and it would seem that he had heard about her, too. And that was something she found curious. There should be no reason he knew who she was. She'd done nothing grand or impressive. There was no reason that Dooku, who had distanced himself so from the Jedi, should know she exists.

Dooku's brows quirked towards his hairline at the word 'traitor.' "A wholly subjective title," he dismissed with a poised wave of his hand.

"Evidence speaks strongly in its favor," Elara retorted evenly.

"I am a diplomat," he countered loftily.

Elara quirked an eyebrow. "Perhaps you have confused 'diplomat' and 'idealist' in your vocabulary, Count Dooku."

He did something, then, that Elara hadn't expected. Dooku chuckled. A smile curled a corner of his mouth into a partial smile. Amusement started to glitter in his eyes, a dangerous kind of shine that sparked wariness in Elara's chest.

"I was told that you had a sharp tongue. But one also talented with a diplomatic charm and restraint. You must be the pride of the Jedi Order," he drawled. He teased. "Tell me––do you think your training has prepared you for war?"

Dooku's mention of war had made the air in the room chilly. War had seemed more and more like an inevitable. Elara had seen the signs of it creeping closer and closer. A wariness had settled over the galaxy. It seemed that everyone could feel the fracturing peace. They tiptoed around it in hopes to keep it intact longer; and the Jedi were there to try and push the pieces back together, dispel the cracks. But to hear Dooku talk of it so assuredly made it feel like they'd missed something. Like the final warning signs had blown past them, and the tide of war had closed in around their necks. If Elara's hands hadn't been shackled, one might have risen to rub at the base of her own––for it felt tight with foreboding.

"War does not have to be inevitable," Elara countered. "There's still time to prevent it."

The older gentleman hummed lowly, deeply; then he sighed with an almost showman-like air about him, brows rising. He reclined back in his seat and swept a hand upwards, fingers pressing against his temple. "Ah, to still maintain the ideals of a broken system… Tell me… what would you say if I were to tell you that the war is already upon us? That the Republic is already falling?"

Elara blinked at Dooku from under steadily furrowing eyebrows. Her shoulders squared defensively and her chin rose a fraction higher.

"I would ask what evidence you have of such a bold statement."

"The Republic has become corrupt. More and more members of the Senate are falling and bowing to the influence of the dark master of the Sith." The word 'Sith' sent a shock wave through the room, which sobered Elara's expression immediately. Dooku noticed and sat forward in his chair, realizing that, now, he had captured her full attention. "This Sith, Darth Sidious, now controls the whole of the Republic, and it will fall to this influence."

The lagnuidity of Dooku's energy had become more energized. Whether or not what he was saying was true, he certainly seemed to believe it. Or, perhaps, he was a very excellent liar. Elara shook her head, fighting valiantly to maintain a neutral expression.

"That's impossible. If there was a Sith in the Senate, surely we'd know," she denied.

"You are not familiar with the Dark side of the Force, what it can do. It clouds visions. Obscures truth. This infiltration has been happening slowly, and for many years. Done with careful calculation and patience. This Sith Lord will see to the fall of the Republic if something is not done." Dooku rose out of his seat and planted his hands on the tabletop. He leaned forward, gaze locking with Elara's with a frightening intensity. His eyes gleamed pleadingly, almost. "You are said to be one who will bring balance to the Force. Your skills are unprecedented, and your destiny clear––you must join me, Elara Skywalker, and help destroy the Sith!"

Elara's face had gone perfectly impassive at the attempted recruitment. The potential of the information she'd been given being true was startling. So was the idea that Dooku seemed to have been keeping tabs on her somehow. All of it was perfectly disconcerting. It was in such a moment that Elara was very thankful for her Jedi training; because it gave her a way to handle it. A way to respond. Because he was expecting an answer, and there was no worming her way out of giving him one.

"Absolutely not," Elara breathed. "I have no reason to believe what you're telling me is true. There is no evidence, and you are not presenting me any. If what you say is, indeed, true, then the Jedi will discover this Sith Lord and find the proper way to handle it."

Across the table, Dooku's face slowly fell. It migrated from a strangely hopeful pleading, to one of quick resolve. He straightened up with deadly slowness, cape swishing around his arms as they returned to his side. The answer had clearly buttoned their conversation. There would be more discussion, no more words exchanged. Count Dooku, who stared at Elara from down the length of his nose, was her judge, her jury, and her executioner. And the coldness of his gaze assured her that she had just sealed her fate.

"A shame. I had hoped you would see reason. I fear that the privileges of my guests only extend so far, and there is only so much I can do to satiate the Geonosians," he informed with faux regret. There was a subtle tip to his chin, and two hands gripped either of Elara's arms. She was gracelessly hauled out of the chair, which scraped loudly against the floor. "It would seem that you have been accused of espionage. And I regret to inform you that the punishment for such a crime is particularly… final."

Elara, jaw tense, met Dooku's stare evenly. "Surely I can request a trial."

Dooku arched his eyebrows and allowed his shoulders to rise and fall. "I'm afraid that the judge is indisposed today; and the Geonosians do like to deal with their issues as quickly as possible. I assure you that if there was anything I could do to help, I would do it." He lifted a hand to his chest again, and proffered another partial bow. "A pleasure, truly, Elara Skywalker. It is a shame that our paths are not likely to cross again."

With that, Count Dooku made his exit, sweeping from the room with a blasé kind of grace; and Elara glared after him, blood burning beneath her skin.

OOOO

Fear was a natural emotion. It was a heavy emotion. It left one's fingertips tingling, their head buzzing, and their stomach twisting. Jedi were well acquainted with fear; they learned to channel it into something productive, learned not to let it overcome them. This was why Obi-Wan Kenobi was not in fear for his own life. Was the situation precarious? Yes, it was––with his hands shackled and suspended over his head, it was very much apparent that he was in trouble. But his heart did not pound with the impending dread that his life might be about to end. The beating remained steady and calm, thanks to years of experience. But his fingers were tingling––but perhaps that was the blood loss––and his stomach felt cramped.

But not in fear for himself.

In fear for the Skywalkers.

The message he had transmitted to them showed no evidence of having been received and forwarded. No attempt at rescue appeared to have been made. In fact, the only person who had tempted Obi-Wan with freedom had been Count Dooku. This led him to believe that neither Elara or Anakin had received the message, which meant that something was terribly wrong. Neither of the Skywalkers would have ignored the transmission––even Anakin's issues with authority wouldn't have prevented him from doing so. Elara had expressed her concern for her brother's well-being on Kamino, claiming that she'd felt a heart-rending pain. His pain. She had been distraught, overwhelmed by the emotion delivered to her via Force disturbance. The fact that neither sibling appeared to have received his message was troubling.

Anakin was his padawan. He cared for him deeply and wished him no pain. Obi-Wan's heart had dropped to the pit of his stomach when Elara, pale faced and sobbing, conveyed the pain her brother was in. When all of her fear and pain flooded the air, rushing past her carefully crafted walls, his heart broke. And now, with no way to contact either of them, he felt blind. And he felt fear.

All around him, Geonosians cheered at his captivity. They taunted and jibed and screamed. They rooted for his death. Perhaps this would be where he died, he pondered briefly. Perhaps his blood would spill across the ocher sand, and the last thing he'd see would be the cloudless blue sky. This contemplation of death stirred nothing in his chest; he'd always thought that, when death came to him, he'd feel it coming. Feel a crushing weight in his chest, a deep pull in his gut, a realization that he was entering his last moments. But Obi-Wan felt none of that. Aside from the low-burn of worry for the Skywalkers, he felt remarkably calm. So he had faith that, somehow, this was not the end for him. Not yet, at least.

It was with a particularly uproarious wave of sound that Obi-Wan came to realize why this was not yet the end. A chariot trundled out into the arena, carrying a single occupant. Some of the tension in his chest released upon realizing who it was––Elara Skywalker. From a distance, she seemed perfectly alright. Her shoulders were squared and her chin was raised almost defiantly as she was paraded around the arena. Geonosians spat and hooted and chattered, pleased that they'd get to witness two executions that day. But none of that appeared to affect her. As the chariot got closer, Obi-Wan could read her expression. It was one of indifference. She was not allowing the gathered masses a single glimpse behind her mask.

That changed, however, when her eyes met Obi-Wan's.

The impassivity on her face subtly melted into one of apology. He gave a slight shake of his head in an attempt to dismiss it. She was not one to willingly ignore an order or a request and he knew that––whatever had delayed the response this long had to have been serious.

When the chariot came to a stop, and Elara was ushered out the back, Obi-Wan couldn't help the once-over he felt the need to give her. He checked for injuries and found none, much to his relief. She, like him, had been stripped of her outer robe and her lightsaber, and the pouches had been removed from her belt. She maintained a cool air about herself as she was escorted to the pillar beside Obi-Wan. That demeanor was maintained, even as her Geonosian escort physically pushed her back against the scarred, gashed up pillar.

"I fear this isn't the rescue mission you might've hoped for," Elara remarked.

"To be perfectly honest, I was beginning to think there'd be no rescue effort," Obi-Wan admitted. He'd not meant for it to sound harsh, and had attempted to keep his tone light––but the corner of Elara's mouth flinched.

"For that I apologize. We were… indisposed." The chain pulled taut over Elara's head and she glanced upwards to see it being hooked at the top of the pillar. It was as she lifted her face directly into the sunlight that Obi-Wan noticed the redness around her eyes. The skin had been rubbed raw, like from the dashing away of tears. There was a tired slouch to her shoulders, even with her arms forcibly held aloft.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked softly. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her––but she seemed to be doing everything she could not to meet his eyes. Both Skywalkers had very expressive, lively eyes. They seemed to know this, and seemed to avoid eye-contact whenever they felt strongly about something.

"I will be," Elara replied quietly. She cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "We transmitted your message." Another wave of relief washed through Obi-Wan's system; 'we' implied Anakin, which meant that she'd found him. "Windu asked me to see if I could parse out where you'd been taken. There will be a proper rescue effort."

"And Anakin?"

"He gave Anakin strict instructions to stay put and protect Padmé."

Even from her profile, Obi-Wan could see miniscule traces of carefully concealed grief. It was present in the slight flaring of Elara's nostrils. The tension at the corners of her mouth. The redness around her eyes. He recognized it because he'd lived it. He'd seen all those signs in himself when Qui-Gon had died. He'd puzzled together a way to operate with that heaviness on his shoulders; and he could see that weight on hers. His heart ached upon remembering what Elara had prased the source of the pain out to be––her mother. And for as much as Obi-Wan wanted to ask, wanted to assure that she and Anakin were alright, he didn't. If Elara had found the precarious balance of maintaining composure, he would not rupture that for her. Not with the situation that they were in.

From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan clocked movement. Upon turning to see what it was, his heart sank.

"And… Anakin agreed to stay put?"

"Yes," Elara confirmed.

"I don't think he listened," Obi-Wan drawled.

Elara's head whipped around, wide eyes finally finding his. Obi-Wan, with a crestfallen look, tilted his head forward pointedly. Both of their gazes alighted on the sight of another chariot, which carried two individuals. Anakin and Padmé. Neither appeared to be harmed, which was a relief; but disappointment washed over Obi-Wan as well. This was an on-going issue with his padawan, and this situation was no exception. Anakin had a proclivity for going against orders to do what he believed was right. It had gotten him into trouble before––and it had gotten him into trouble again. Beside him, Elara let out a heavy sigh.

"He'll be the death of me, one day…" Elara muttered under her breath.

"You and I both," Obi-Wan drawled.

Afterword: This chapter decided to be one of the most difficult I've ever written for this story. It's a weird kind of transition chapter between the big event of Shmi's death and the Battle of Geonosis. The scene with Dooku took so long to get just right, and this last bit went through several iterations before it landed on being in Obi's POV. I want to get the battle just right, so I decided that this was a good ending point, so I can get a fresh start on the next chapter.

Review Replies!

ZabuzasGirl: I had fun writing the banter between Dooku and Elara––and we will get some more of that! I could see Elara getting close with Domino Squad; I've been having fun figuring out how I'm gonna work her into the Clone Wars. Who she's gonna be close with, whether or not she's going to have a padawan, how she operates as a soldier… it's gonna be great fun! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Dally'sTUFF: I cry at everything. I could give you a list of commercials that make me bawl. Last chapter was definitely big sad. We've got so many more big-sad moments to cover, so buckle up! Revenge of the Sith is going to be… a time. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

person2309: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter! And Elara and Anakin are definitely going to develop independent, particular views on the Force and its uses and what not––and it's going to be fun to see them debate about all that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

fantasy92: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

Amelia831: Oh, you can bet on Elara's life being a whirlwind of emotions! The Clone Wars is gonna throw some things into sharp perspective for her, and she's gonna be faced with some major decisions. She's gonna be battling with a lot of things emotionally, morally… y'know, all that good stuff. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

LordMaster123: Elara definitely is more resistant to temptation. Being older is definitely a factor, I believe. Anakin is still maturing, and still pliable enough for people to really dig their fingers into. And developing their individual relationships with the Dark side is going to be fun, especially through the Clone Wars. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

MsRosePetal: Elara being there for Anakin's confession is imperative for their relationship. They're so close. They share most of everything with each other. And this happening at the cusp of the start of the Clone Wars is so important for them. 'Cause this is the start of Anakin's struggle with the Dark side… and we're gonna see how much of that he confides in her, and how much she just notices.

We're definitely gonna get some Obi-Wan POV flashbacks once Attack of the Clones starts settling down and the Clone Wars starts picking up. There's a lot of Obi-Lara goodness coming up, I promise!

I definitely plan on including Satine, and I've got some fun ideas for all of that. The Clone Wars is gonna be a rollercoaster, so buckle up!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Lady of Sign: Elara's gonna have some tangled with the Dark side, as any Skywalker is wont to; but, don't worry, she's got a bit more of a resistance to all the bad stuff than Anakin seems to have. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Duchess of Lantern Waste: Obi-Wan and Elara reunions are always fun to write, no matter how long they've been apart. They're already pretty attuned to one another, so it's always fun to play with how they react to seeing one another again. That first encounter and refusal of the Dark side is important––because she refused it as Anakin welcomed it. They're both starting to form their opinions of the Darkness now that they've encountered it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

LewtonSpoons: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

bambam411: I'm very sorry to hear about your husband's mother––I can't fathom how painful losing a parent is. Writing anything involving Shmi's death is just… heartbreaking. And it was equally as hard having to sit back and really think about how Elara was going to react, and how she and Anakin were going to react with one another. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and that you and your family are doing well! Thanks again!

LoveFiction2020: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Shadow Wolf 15846: There are certain events that I feel can't get changed and Shmi's death is, unfortunately one of them. It is, indeed, the beginning of Anakin's fall to the Darkness––and, in this story, it's the beginning of Elara's true journey, too. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Guest DCDGojira: I think that anything that Ashoka will do to annoy or tease Anakin will amuse Elara immensely. Because finally he will understand what it's like to be in charge of someone younger than himself. Understand what she dealt with as an older sister. I'll definitely give the suggested story a read! And I look forward to episode suggestions, I've been typing up ideas for a couple already. And I have, indeed, been playing around with the idea of Elara having a padawan. If that ends up being something I choose to put into the story, I will say it won't happen immediately. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

talowe: I'm glad that you've been enjoying the story! Obi-Wan is a challenging character to write for, but I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'm happy that you've been having fun reading it! I find that sibling stories are really hard to pull off––so I've been working real hard to make sure that Anakin and Elara have a believable enough relationship both as siblings and as friends. They haven't had a good 'ol fight yet, but… it's comin! I've got Elara and Obi-Wan's story figured out till the very end of it––and a lot of it is going to be very happy. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

And thank you to those that have added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!

Next up––the First Battle of Geonosis. Buckle-up, everyone, 'cause it's about to kick off. And then we'll start dipping our toes into the Clone Wars! Again, if you've got episode ideas, kick them my way somehow!

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again, y'all!

~Mary