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Chapter 26

Light covered Obi-Wan on all sides, soft and warm. So familiar, the comforting and supportive hold of the Force. He stood in its presence wearing his physical body, and he frowned at his hands that shouldn't have existed in that place.

Something tapped at his instincts, and he turned in the endless white to find Qui-Gon. His Master looked the way he had on the day he died, his back straight, arms folded loosely in front of him, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Am I dead?" Obi-Wan asked, though a wellspring of relief and joy bubbled out of his heart.

"No, but why does everyone assume that whenever they see me?" Qui-Gon took a mock tone and added, "Oh, look there, it's Qui-Gon. I must be dead."

"Master, you're dead."

"Clearly that's never stopped me before." Qui-Gon smiled, and he looked Obi-Wan over. "Not much of a gangly boy anymore, are you?"

A touch of affection touched Qui-Gon's words, so familiar and so missed. Obi-Wan smiled in return. The grin faltered as he took in their surroundings, clearly the Force, but it permeated Obi-Wan so intensely that it was unlike anything he'd experienced through meditation.

"Master, what is this? How are we speaking like this?" He frowned and folded his arms into the sleeves of his robes.

"Anakin let down the barriers between the two of you. I'm reaching you through him," Qui-Gon said, and as though that weren't a topic of great interest, he rubbed at his beard and looked around in the white space. "It's absolutely astonishing, his connection to the Force. What you or I would strive to accomplish in our entire lifetimes, he can already access. It flows through him like his own blood."

Anakin let down his barriers? Qui-Gon must have noticed his surprise and offered Obi-Wan the faintest grin.

"You became a Sith, Padawan, and Anakin had to save you."

Obi-Wan clasped at his chest. In the Force or not, his heart stuttered. He had never—would never—bow to the dark side. Qui-Gon stroked his beard again and chuckled behind his hand. The laughter danced through his eyes. A joke?

"That's not funny, Master."

"All right, not a Sith, per say," Qui-Gon said, and he set his hands on his sides. "Darth Sidious has used the holocrons and a powerful weapon to amplify the dark side's energy across the galaxy. Most Force-sensitive beings have fallen under his control. You were no different until Anakin intervened. It gave you greater control."

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face and paced a small circle. His mind raced over his most recent memories, including a Council meeting regarding Anakin and the Death Star. Sidious had marched on the Temple alone. The last thing Obi-Wan recalled was the vicious burn of Force lightning through his body.

"Anakin resisted?" he asked. Anakin had been through enough with the nightmares in his own mind. He didn't need the influence of the holocrons beating him further down.

"With minor ill effects, yes." Qui-Gon said. "The effects of the dark side are very much like a powerful drug. Strongly addictive and quickly tolerated, thus most dark-side users must feed the darkness and eventually spiral into more horrific acts to get the same feelings of power. Anakin seems to have maintained his tolerance."

"Comforting, but not really." Obi-Wan ran his hands over his face again. "None of the other Jedi are able to fight it?" Qui-Gon shook his head. "Would Anakin be able to share this experience with others to free them?"

"I doubt it. I think your close connection with him makes the difference. That and the fact that you've also experienced his life through the vision of the future. Your connection with him is far more intimate than most." Qui-Gon frowned. "I truly hadn't tried to do that, by the way, though it seems the Force had greater purposes. Your close proximity and close connection with Anakin, coupled by my own connection to the two of you, seems to have caused a bit of an error."

Obi-Wan stared. Qui-Gon had instigated the vision? Qui-Gon was the reason for the mess—and for the reason Anakin was still with him. Of course it had been Qui-Gon. The touch when the vision had passed had felt so familiar. Leave it to his former Master to bend every rule of logic.

"An error?" Obi-Wan crossed his arms and frowned at his former Master the way he had on many missions. Same as he had all those times Qui-Gon went about things in an atypical, unconventional fashion and yet somehow managed to always succeed. "Speaking as if sharing all my life experiences with Anakin, and vice versa, is an insignificant error."

"My, a little defensive, aren't you?" Qui-Gon grinned again. "Have much to hide?" When Obi-Wan glared, Qui-Gon chuckled. "You should be glad for the error, my Padawan, or you would very well be a Sith Lord right now." Lifting his chin at Obi-Wan, he added, "You are welcome."

Obi-Wan laughed to himself and shook his head. How very like Qui-Gon. He wished he could enjoy this moment to the fullest, to stay here for hours or days, but he still had other concerns. He met Qui-Gon's gaze, and all of the smiles and laughter melted away.

"What can you tell me about this weapon?"

"Unfortunately, nothing. I'm not omniscient, Obi-Wan, though my ability to travel has been made easier without a physical body." Qui-Gon sighed. "I can only go where the Force is in a state of balance. Because of Darth Sidious, the dark side has grown far stronger than even the future we've seen. The Force… is suffocating. I can't travel far, and I can't see much."

"What can we do?"

Qui-Gon smiled, but it was a tired smile. The words about to leave his mouth troubled his heart.

"Anakin must defeat Darth Sidious, but he won't succeed so long as he remains trapped in his self-doubt and self-loathing. He needs you to speak with him, Obi-Wan. Yours is the one voice he might listen to."

"I know," Obi-Wan said. Even in the Force, he felt the weight of this burden. It was something the Force did not intend for him to forget or let go.

"I know you know, but I wonder why you haven't done it yet." Qui-Gon frowned.

"Master, you know me. I am not like you—or like Anakin. Words like that don't come easy to me."

"Then it is time for you to become the Master. Anakin still needs you," Qui-Gon said, not unkindly, but Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel chastened. Qui-Gon's tone softened further, but that only made his words hit that much harder. "He was not ready, Obi-Wan."

"He was ready for the war," Obi-Wan said as if to excuse Anakin's urgent promotion to Knighthood. His shoulders sank as he let out a long breath. "I know, Master."

Master Yoda had also wanted Anakin promoted precisely because of the war. No one could argue that the boy had and always would be an effective warrior. But war was not a Jedi's intended purpose. That was partly how Sidious had managed to orchestrate their undoing, by stretching them thin across the galaxy fighting a war they shouldn't be fighting. What else could peacekeepers do during a time of war but try to fight for peace?

Another way Sidious had played them right into his hands. Had played Anakin right into his hands.

Obi-Wan scrubbed his face and swept both hands through his hair. Lethargy grappled at him and weighed on his heart. Such a difficult thing, to love someone.

"Is this all you came here for? To criticize me after over a decade?" Obi-Wan put on a frown and glowered at his former Master. One of the few whom he loved—he blamed that on Qui-Gon, who had never been much for aloofness. In that way, he was very much like Anakin.

"It seemed like fun," Qui-Gon said with a warm tone and smile full of subtle affection. His expression softened. "He needs you, Obi-Wan. You need to open your mouth—and your heart."

Obi-Wan sighed, but he smiled in return.

"It is not the Jedi way."

"Bah." Qui-Gon waved a hand in the air. "Nor is it the way to the dark side, is it?"

No. For someone like Anakin, or even Luke, an open heart led to goodness and redemption, not destruction. If that was the only way to reach Anakin, so be it.

Qui-Gon closed the gap between them and placed his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, firm, tender, familiar, and warm. His grip tightened, and a severe expression crossed his face. Qui-Gon struggled on his words, as though searching for the perfect ones.

"Have you always been this short?" he asked, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes to the imaginary sky over their heads. Qui-Gon chuckled and tightened his grip. "Obi-Wan, my dear Padawan… I am proud of you. I am not sorry for the trials you have faced, because they have transformed you into a most brilliant, capable, and compassionate man. My only hope for you is that this future be brighter than the last—that you are able to reclaim this future from the dark side. I have done all I can for you."

"You have done enough." Obi-Wan gripped his Master's arms. "You gave Anakin back to me."

"See? Say things like that. He'll hear you." Qui-Gon slid his hands down, patted Obi-Wan's arms, and released him. "Now go."

Obi-Wan smiled. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes to sink deeper into the Force.

When next he opened his eyes, he stared at a glaring silver ceiling and had a throbbing headache. He winced and tried to sit up, but his muscles screamed in defiance and he flopped down on a cot in a small medical bay.

Turning his head, he found Anakin, his head down and pillowed by his arms on the side of Obi-Wan's cot. Padmé set a blanket over Anakin's shoulders. She froze when she saw Obi-Wan, and concern mingled with fear in her wide eyes. Obi-Wan pushed up on one elbow, and Padmé straightened, a tentative hand on Anakin's shoulder.

"Are you… all right?" she asked, and the equal parts concern and fear made it from her eyes to her voice. Her hand slipped from Anakin's shoulder to his side—to the lightsaber attached to his belt.

"I'm not under Sidious' control," Obi-Wan said, and he forced himself upright despite a jolt of pain through his spine from his head to his feet. From Force lightning—because that's the last thing he recalled.

No. After that, he remembered almost killing Anakin.

"Are you okay?" Padmé asked, and all traces of wariness vanished, replaced by her usual compassion and warmth.

"I'm not dead." Obi-Wan ran his hand over his face and across the back of his head. The ache faded to a dismal throbbing. It could be tolerated.

Anakin, on the other hand, had lost all trace of color in his face aside from red across his cheeks—the way he looked after abusing the Force's power. Or, at least, abusing his body through such unconventional uses of the Force.

"He doesn't look well."

"He's not. He was bleeding," Padmé said, and her voice cracked. She composed herself as she brushed Anakin's hair out of his face. "The medics tried to get him to rest, but he insisted he had to stay by your side in case you lost control again."

"Where are we?"

"Tatooine."

"Tatooine?" Obi-Wan's mouth hung open. He shook his head. "What in the world are we—" and he waved his hand to mean the collective three of them, "—doing on Tatooine?"

"It's not just us. The entirety of what remains of the Republic-favored Senate is here, along with several battalions of the Grand Army." Padmé locked eyes with him. "We fled, Obi-Wan. Palpatine has created the Empire. He overpowered the Senate and has used the Jedi to strong-arm the Separatists into submission—those that didn't willingly leap to join him, anyway. Most of what remains of the Senate readily joined him, too. It's all over the HoloNet."

"They're afraid of the Jedi," Obi-Wan said as he considered falling under Sidious' control. "Just as they feared the army in the future. Fear motivates them."

"Not all of them. Some people merely like to be told what to do." Padmé brushed at the wrinkles in the front of her gown. Rather plain garments compared to what she normally wore in public, as was the braid in her hair, but he doubted she'd had time to prepare. "I think it will actually be a good thing we're here. It will give the entirety of this Senate an idea of what goes on in the places where no one is looking. Places where good people… are forgotten." Her eyes rested on Anakin.

"The slaves are gone, thanks to Anakin. The Senators will only see the former slave owners now. I wonder if they'll do much to represent the good people." Obi-Wan tossed the blanket aside and slipped his feet over the edge of the cot, careful not to disturb Anakin. He was tempted to put Anakin on the cot, except it would probably wake him.

"Obi-Wan," Padmé said, and a chuckle tumbled off her lips. "Tatooine is run by the former slaves. They came back and bought out all their former shops. They've apparently taken over all of the major spaceports and settlements."

Obi-Wan stared. Her words bobbled around in his head several times.

"All of the former slaves have been very vocal about what Anakin did for them even though many still have no idea who he really is," Padmé said. "They still think he's a mysterious stranger in a black mask."

"Unbelievable." Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead. "Does Anakin know?"

"Not yet."

Padmé looked at Anakin and smiled. So much love filled her eyes that Obi-Wan almost felt like an intruder to see it. She shook her head and turned as though to leave before she faced Obi-Wan again. Unspoken conflict waged in her eyes. She turned aside to a bundle of clothing—presumably extras for Anakin to replace the blood-stained garments he now wore—and withdrew Anakin's lightsaber.

"He'll need this," she said, and she turned the weapon over in her hands several times. "I know that he'll need it." She set the weapon on the bed beside Obi-Wan. "He might be willing to receive it if it's from you…"

"I'll give it to him." Obi-Wan nodded. He smiled at Padmé, grateful to her and her love for Anakin. "Thank you."

Padmé smiled, and she seemed to understand he meant more than just the lightsaber.

"Anyway," Padmé said, "if you're feeling up to it, you should join us outside. There's someone you'll want to meet before she… before we lose her."

Obi-Wan frowned at the statement, but Padmé didn't elaborate. She merely waved her hand for him to follow and disappeared from the room. It took a while for Obi-Wan to muster the motivation to follow her. The pain had dulled but continued to radiate through him, a reminder of Sidious' torture before he'd succumbed to the holocrons' influence.

Obi-Wan rose and put all the pieces of his wardrobe back together in the proper fashion. He clipped his and Anakin's lightsabers to his belt and made his way out the ship. Shouts echoed from outside before he even hit the landing ramp. He flinched at the glaring sunlight and shielded his eyes.

When his eyes finally adjusted, he blinked several more times to ensure he saw correctly. Ahsoka marched in his direction, led through a crowd of senators and clone troopers by Padmé. Many of the troopers held their blasters at Ahsoka's back, yet they maintained distance. At first, Ahsoka carried herself with strength, a scowl on her face, and then she staggered and clasped a hand on her head. The troopers behind her took a stance as if to fire.

"Ahsoka, are you all right?" Obi-Wan jogged down the ramp but stopped a short distance from her. Padmé held Ahsoka's arm.

"I'm… all right for now," Ahsoka said, though she puffed for air. "I'm glad you're awake. I was beginning to think I'd lose it before I could speak with you."

"Lose…" Obi-Wan grimaced. "The holocrons—they haven't taken control of you?"

"Not yet. Something to do with Anakin, I think." Ahsoka wanly smiled and rubbed at her head. Pain flashed through her eyes and her grin turned into a grimace.

Her bond with Anakin had the same effect as with Obi-Wan. To a certain degree, at least.

"When the vision passed, did you see Anakin's future as if it was your own?" Obi-Wan asked.

"His future?" Ahsoka frowned and shook her head. "No… Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Ah!" Ahsoka grimaced and clutched her head. Her focus remained on Obi-Wan. "I needed to do this in person, because otherwise, I didn't think you'd believe it. When the holocrons activated, I went looking for the source, and I found someone who can help us."

Padmé frowned, as did many of the troopers. Not exactly the reaction Obi-Wan expected.

"You won't like it," Ahsoka admitted. "And it's probably a trap, but any information is better than no information. And I can't help but believe him."

Ahsoka turned and waved at a line of troopers behind her. Several more shouts erupted from displeased troopers. They parted, and Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. He reached for his lightsaber even as Ahsoka stuck out a hand to pacify him.

Maul walked towards them, hands innocently on his head, with a swarm of armed troopers behind him.