Soul of Stardust Chapter 2, a star wars fanfic

Soul of Stardust: A Star Wars AU

AN: THIS IS RADICALLY AU! And possibly, very likely OOC, but hey, tis fanfiction.

I hope you all enjoyed my first chapter, that was a whopping 20 pages long! It took a long time writing, but it was worth it.

Now, please enjoy my next chapter. Where stuff goes down after too much talking. I enjoyed liberal creative license, so no-one flip out if I've added, adapted, or mixed legends and canon.

Yoda was silent.

Everything was quiet, a little hush of contemplative silence. Birdsong drifted and ebbed in time with the gurgle of swamp creatures. Snakes slithered by the silent group with soft sweeps of their skin against jungle vine. The Jedi sat in silence, each absorbed in their own personal thoughts.

Acceptance embraced Xanatos Dinzori as he waited patiently for the masters to decide his fate. He had made his choices, now he lived with the responsibility. Next to him, little Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled and focused on patting the mud beneath his feet into a shape. The padawan thought it vaguely resembled a misshapen circle or even a crude heart, who knows what the youngling aimed to create.

This swamp is odiously smelly. I believe there's mud on my robes. It'll be a devil of a time to clean it. Why must my lineage get into such messy trouble? Yan Dooku only complained shortly in his mind. He used the slight discomfort as a distraction from his own thoughts. Thoughts that meandered and dove into the depths of his mind. He saw darkness there. It sickened him to realize how familiar and comfortable a nest the darkness roosted in his heart.

Qui-Gon stirred slightly in the silence, pride flickering in his chest. How swiftly his padawan had grown, it brought joy to his heart to see the newfound maturity that Xanatos now possessed. If only I could have truly been there to aid my dear padawan, Qui-Gon mused, stroking his beard in self-recrimination. Truly I fail as a Master.

Then the silence was broken.

"Into the cave you must go."

Startled, Xanatos jerked towards Master Yoda, "What cave, Master?"

The old goblin shook his ears, "Here on Dagobah, ancient training ground this was. Strong in the Light it is. But a shadow, also it has. Come," he hopped down from his stump, moving in a direction through the swirling mist, "walk with me, youngling."

Hesitantly, with a quick glance at Qui-Gon, the young human followed the crouched figure. Swiftly both Yan and Qui-Gon stood to follow yet stopped in their tracks when Yoda's gravelly voice reached them.

"Need you we do not, himself alone will he face."

Their hesitation cost the two Masters. Xanatos and Yoda were gone, faded into the unending life signature of the swamp.

Into the suddenly strained silence, Qui-Gon offered an awkward sacrifice, "Well, Master Yoda never seems to change."

An up-ticked eyebrow edged with silver was thrown his way, and he hastened to add to the one-sided conversation, "It seems highly appropriate for an eight-hundred-year-old being. He has had ample opportunity to develop and internalize his idiosyncrasies."

"Wha's idi-idio-idiozinta-whatamacalit, Masters?"

The young voiced piped up sweetly from around knee level. The youngling, Kenobi, sat in the mud gazing up at them with wide green-blue eyes, while a small frown adorned his mud-stained face.

Pleased with the distraction, Qui-Gon quickly knelt at eyelevel.

"I-di-o-syn-cra-sies, little one. It means the unique qualities of a sentient being that are habitual actions."

"Like Master Yoda's backwards talk or Bant's bubble laugh?"

"Yes, exactly right."

"You have those idio-things too, Zana's Master?" For a moment, the title threw the leonine jedi for a loop. His eyes, a light shade of blue-grey, widened with surprise, which soon melted into delight at the endearment. Yan Dooku took that momentary stupor and verbally struck.

"Zana's Master certainly has many of those, idio-things, as you say. For one, he collects pathetic lifeforms in need of assistance every other mission. For another, he will only take his Sapir tea straight with no added sweetener. And lastly, he never seeks to update his Master when on a mission, at the temple, or taking a new Padawan."

The last bit was uttered through a shark sharp smile: all teeth and no mercy. Uncowed, Qui-Gon struck back with a thunderous vengeance. He had been taught by the best after all.

"Listen here youngling, Zana's Master's Master is what one calls a hypocrite. It means they say or do one action and then scold someone else for doing the exact same thing. His idiosyncrasies are all out on full display. Fastidiousness, tight-lipped, and cannot admit weakness unless it kills him!"

All pretense of amiability vanishes swiftly. Iciness chills the two masters as they loom at each other across the youngling. Yan Dooku's mien is rigid as stone, and his voice emulates the same brittle quality as chipped granite.

"You know nothing of what you speak, Qui-Gon."

"I don't do I?" he scoffs derisively. Vaguely Qui-Gon wonders which starship his diplomatic filter flew off on. He could not hold the words on his tongue, and vitriol slips from his lips in waves.

"You never take the time to comm either Master! Always aloof, always stern, always the consummate shadow Jedi with the façade of stone. You have changed Master, from the time you took me as your student twenty years ago, and the sentient being you are right now is no influence I desire around my Padawan."

Yan flinched as if bodily struck, pale face strained without color. "You know my reputation among the Jedi, Qui-Gon. I may be a respected and revered Master. But there is little love for me in the Order. Few Jedi chase the shadows as I do, many fear darkness to be contagious."

"Yes, as I am sure your proficiency in Form II, perfect for lightsaber duels or your propensity for violent repercussions add anything else but derision to your record."

"I do that for you. For all my Padawans. There is a darkness growing in the Galaxy Qui-Gon, and I'd Force-be-damned before I let that darkness corrupt you!"

"In case it slipped your mind Master, your plan has not worked that well has it?" Bitterness and self-reproach darkened his eyes to cold slate, "My own Padawan may have encountered a Sith Master and certainly touched the darkness. Your protection does nothing!"

"M-master?" A thin voice trembles faintly in the air as small hand tugs gently on a dark cloak. Yan whirls in uncontrolled emotion, mouth bared in a wordless snarl. The Force is oily and dark, wrapping tighter around the master in grey coils.

Obi-Wan flinched, eyes scrunched closed for a brief moment. Immediately all the tension seeps out of Yan, regret and remorse heavy on his heart. Force, he had frightened a youngling, he thought bitterly, again. He fails to notice the tiny motion of his tunics and cloak settling down towards the mud.

"I have a gift for you Zana's Master's Master."

Brown eyes blinked in surprise, "A gift youngling?"

"Uh huh, hand please." Bemused Yan did as the youngling asked. The four-year-old lays both cupped hands onto the larger one, barely hiding the palm of Dooku's hand. Slowly Obi-Wan opens his tightly held hands.

They are empty.

"Whe-" the query begins to take shape.

Light blooms. Unfurling in invisible streams and eddies the Force washes over them like a tidal wave of flowers, splashing against their souls in endless light. So strong was the feeling that both Yan and Qui-Gon were left blinking their eyes to rid them of the abrupt influx in their sense, they could have sworn to actually see the Force in golden glory blossom in waves.

Kriff! How is Master Yoda so fast? He's half my height! Xanatos lamented as he struggled to follow the stumpy Jedi Master through the mist laden swamp.

Vines caught his feet, stung his hands, and the grey mist obscured his vision. Mud grabbed at his feet, sucked on his bedraggled robes, and splashed into his mouth. He gagged at the filthy dirt stench.

"Keep up, you must. Almost there, we are."

Finally, the two figures paused before a particular section of the swamp. There, Xanatos glimpsed a dark shadow hidden between the bowels of two trees. It gaped with forgotten history, cold in the manner of fossils and ancient beings who long ago walked the land and care nothing for the present.

"In the cave, you must go."

Midnight blue eyes stared into the cave opening, wide-eyed. He swallowed the question on the tip of his tongue, he would find out soon enough. Determined, the young man straightened his spine and walked into the darkness before him.

Absently, he heard a pleased approving hum behind him.

It was not complete darkness, he noted. The dim light drifted through holes in the tree roots overhead for the first few feet, lightening the cave to a dark grey, shapes vaguely darker shadows.

The light brightened as he continued forward, step by step, til suddenly he was standing in the warm sunlight lit Temple corridor.

A conversation drifted towards him, he turned in a half circle. Two Masters, judging by the feel of their carefully coiled Force signature, leaned against the training salle door conversing quietly.

"Who was that Knight again? The second Padawan of Master Jinn?"

"You know, I don't remember. There are too many Jedi moving in and out of the temple, how are we supposed to remember every single one?"

"Hmm, there's truth to that. I feel old thinking of all the Knights and Masters I've outlived."

Grief, long understood and only faintly potent, filled the Force for a brief second.

"Why did you ask about Jinn's former Padawan anyway?"

"Ah, well, I just remembered that he was a right terror with his lightsaber for a while, but not much else. Now even that is being taken away, that youngling inside had superb swordsmanship."

"He is one with the Force, the Force will remember him always."

What? They thought he was dead?!

Confused warred with anger-filled fear and the padawan ran towards the Masters. A hand outstretched to grab their arms, to show them he was still there, that he wasn't forgotten. He hit the hard wall, passing through the vision like wisps of scattered smoke.

Suddenly, he was in the darkness riddled cave again, crumpled against one rough dirt wall.

Shik. The snap-hiss of a lightsaber startled Xanatos. He whirled, a wash of red light flooding the cave in harsh relief.

The figure stood with a hood over their head, obscuring all but the tips of long shadows of curling hair.

"Who are you?" He cried out, his voice harsh. The figure stood silently.

Again, he called out, "Who are you? Why are you here?" Again, the figure stood silently, bathed in a wash of crimson light. Then the figure took a single step.

Whispers exploded in a cacophony of sound, surrounding Xanatos like a whirlwind, cutting him to the marrow.

"Who is he, the better question is; who are you?"

"You've already been forgotten by your people."

"I do not remember you."

"He must not be important: no history book has his name."

With each new voice, familiar or not, the figure took a step forward. Then, he was right before Xanatos. Close enough that he saw a shadowy mouth move and speak.

"Does your family remember the child they gave away?"

"Ahhhhh!" Enraged by the taunts and whispers, he ignited his lightsaber and swung.

Twang! The lightsabers clashed, once, twice, three times.

"Are you so easily angered, youngling, by the truth of this world? That you will never be important?" The lilting question was spoken in recognizable tones, yet the Padawan could not hear them, fear clouding his thoughts.

"Be quiet! I will not be forgotten."

Immediately, the cloaked figure stepped back, arms open wide. Xanatos stumbled forward, unbalanced. His lightsaber sunk into its stomach with enough force that its hood flew off, revealing a pale aristocratic face, long black hair, dark eyes lined with sulfuric yellow, and a broken circled scar burned into his cheek.

Sickened, Xanatos stared at the image of himself, who walks forward jerkily, the searing lightsaber buried in his gut moving deeper through him, the tip barely visible at his back. Aghast Xanatos quickly thumbs the ignition switch off and the dim blue light vanishes. The mirage gains flesh and bone as it slumps against the young man's arms. Softly, whispered words land his ears.

"I am you."

The words struck with the force of ten thousand blasters.

"A you, that you might have been. A possibility. Remember me for no one else will."

Horror clawed at his throat, threatening to cloud his mind. He-he-he had turned.

Slowly, the panic and horror fled his mind. Whatever this test was, Xanatos knew that he had failed.

"Wh-what was that?" Qui-Gon asked, voice brimming with confused awe.

He glanced at his old master only to discover that Yan's eyes where fixed unerringly on the palm of his hand, narrowed focus on the baby palms that grasped tightly to his own. Slowly, in gentle streams crystalline tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Master! You're crying!"

"Always a master of stating the obvious Qui-Gon." In contrast to the words themselves, his tone was gentle and fond.

Suddenly the tall Jedi dropped to his knees and embraced the youngling before him. Heedless of the grime beneath his feet or the mud on the front of his robes, Yan held the child tight to his chest.

"Thank you for the gift, Obi-Wan," he whispered, "It is the most precious gift I have ever received. Your faith honors me."

He stumbled in his haste, tripping over tree roots. Mud cascaded over his face as he splashed into the swamp debris.

"Hmm…Troubled you are, young one."

He kept his face towards the ground, kneeling in a hunched curl as he replied, "Yes, Master Yoda."

"Why, troubled you are?"

"I-I failed, Master," He choked out the words, spitting them from deep in his throat.

"Failed hmmm…authority to decide, you have?"

Startled, dark midnight blue eyes flew open, head snapping upwards to stare at the wizened Jedi.

"What?" The word burst from his lips.

Yoda hummed slightly. A lightsaber cradled in his green claws reverently. With a start Xanatos recognized it as his own.

"Question, I have. In cave, face you, who did?"

Xanatos sucked in a shocked breath, inhaling dried mud in the air. A slow realization began to brew in his mind.

"Myself. I faced a version of myself."

"Correct you are. Same version, as now you are?"

"No, Master Yoda. He was me who had fallen, who had become my worst fear."

"Ah," the old master seemed pleased, his long ears wiggling slightly.

"Know, your fear do you? Seen your worst you have. "Know yourself, do you?"

"Maybe," Xanatos admitted, reluctance dragging at his voice. "I fear there will always be more to learn."

Yoda hummed in thought, with a smile, "Good, good. Wise you are," before silence once again settled upon the small clearing. Slowly with exaggerated stiffeness, the wizend Jedi Master heaved himself upwards.

"Come, back to the other we must come. Too long, left them unsurpervised, we have. Carry me, you will."

A cackle greeting his groan of long suffering. Though, Xanatos readily obliged the old master his back.

The tableau that awaited them upon their return to the clearing was unexpected to say the least. For there where two beings crouched down to less than half their height, hands elbow deep in the green mud, looking all the world like indulgent parents. They even sounded similar too.

"For Force's sake Qui-Gon, your temple wall is asymmetrical and unbalanced! It will fall over at the slightest provocation."

Qui-Gon snorted, "Really Master, your mastery of architecture astounds me, especially considering the shapeless heap you call a tower."

"Zana's master, Zana's master! Look at this!" Quickly, Qui-Gon shifted his attention to the little member of builders. While ordinarily quite graceful, the quick move in the slippery mud sent the long-haired Jedi face over heels in an appalling display of overexcitement.

Giggles burst from Obi-Wan, "You silly Zana's Master! You suppos' to bath in water not mud."

"Whahahahahaha!" A great booming lit up the clearing, shocking the occupants with its source.

Xanatos stared. Everyone in the Temple knew Master Yan Dooku's reputation. Taciturn, stern, aloof, exacting to name a few. The image of the Jedi squatting in the mud, doubled over with laughter, mirth painting his face in unfamiliar lines.

Even Master Yoda seemed stunned. Eyes wide, but mouth curled into a fond smile. Swinging down from the Padawan's back with ease, Yoda announced his presence by stumping over to the trio.

"Hmmm…more younglings now it appears. One I left, but three I find."

Qui-Gon and Yan jumped to their feet, whirling to face Yoda. Relief filled their faces momentarily, and both bowed in greeting to the Grandmaster. A green claw waved away their respect, before gesturing back towards the abandoned seats.

"Now sit, we must. Listen we will."

Obediently, each moved to their previous stumps. The masters attempted to retain their dignity by settling as gracefully as one could while liberally coated in mud. Only the youngling maintained his cheer by enthusiastically welcoming Zana back with a warm hug. To his credit, the padawan only scrunched his nose in slight distaste.

Once all were seated heavy tension returned to the clearing. Everyone knew the serious matter that weighed upon their shoulders at this time.

Yoda faced the moment with somber anticipation.

Yan faced the moment with a lingering feeling of dread but a small bubble of hope also.

Qui-Gon faced the moment with grim belief.

Xanatos faced the moment with hard-won peace.

And Obi-Wan? He faced the moment with firm belief.

"One question I have. To be a Jedi, what say you?"

Startled Xanatos took a moment to gather his thoughts. He glanced down at the small figure tucked against his knees.

"Forgive me Masters, for not answering right away, my perception of a Jedi has greatly changed in the last few hours. I believed that a Jedi did great good in the Galaxy and those we served must be grateful to us. That glory and honor followed a Jedi like a cloak. That the Force we answer to made us superior to those without its guidance."

The young Padawan lifted his dark midnight eyes to Yoda's wise ones, while one hand strayed to smooth down mud-matted golden red curls. "I was wrong. No honor or glory could ever make a Jedi. The darkness never completely leaves us. It is always there, just out of sight, waiting to pounce on the unwary.

"To be a Jedi is to have hope. Hope and faith that the light will always be there at the end of the day, that our work in service to the galaxy makes a difference to someone. That we choose the light, not because it will always win or is right, but because it is joy, peace, and life.

"That is to be a Jedi. To live as a light to others."

The lingering silence left in the wake of such sentiment was soft and gentle. A thoughtful silence, a pondering silence.

"Taught well, Padawan, has been. To be a Jedi is to face the truth and choose. Give off light or darkness. Padawan made a choice, hmmm. Chosen the light over the darkness, have you not?"

Soft spoken though they were, the words resounded in the murky clearing of Dagobah. Like silk on sand those words chimed into a reverberating crescendo in the hearts of those who heard it.

Relief filled Xanatos' face at his implied acceptance back to the Jedi Order, and tears glinted dangerously full at the edges of his midnight blue eyes.

"Yes, Master Yoda. I have the chosen the light. I will choose it every day, it is a commitment I made, and I am prepared to follow it faithfully." His answer was firm and solid, spoken from a place of iron resolve.

A gnarled hand reached forward and placed the lightsaber directly into the young human's hands. Yoda gently folded Xanatos' fingers around the hilt with a soft pat.

"Hmmm, Jedi Padawan you may be again. More steps to be taken, for Knight you become." The short creature swept a glance at his companions, "Religious order we are. Steps, we all must take. Every step, choice it is, to the light we face."

Qui-Gon stirred slightly, kneeling before his Padawan in the muck of the swampy clearing. Green ooze squelched beneath his robes and he failed to even notice the mud, his focus entirely on the young man before him. Gently Qui-Gon placed warm hands on not quite-full grown shoulders.

"Well done, Padawan mine. You have grown into a wonderful Jedi before I even noticed. I am so proud of you."

"Thank you Masters, thank you."

And the Force rang with the forgiveness and bell like quality of healing.

A slight giggle in the Force interrupted the pair, and all eyes turned to the source of the ripple. Obi-Wan, blue-green eyes alight with wonder giggled again, and the sound echoed through the Force like a chime of a silver bell.

"So pwetty!"

"What is pretty, young one?"

It was Yan Dooku who verbalized the question gently. During the course of this journey, Yan had realized just how wonderful and precious this youngling, and all younglings, were in their simple love.

"The Force!" Obi-Wan exclaimed in pure excitement and awe, "Stardust, stardust around them!"

"Stardust? What do you mean by stardust?"

"Gold light, a star's heart" little fingers danced in patterns and frustration as the toddler tried to articulate his thoughts, "twinkles like speeder lights, and dances. Force happy dance!"

Stunned the four older Jedi stared in disbelief at the youngster now dancing shameless across the mud, laughing and shouting in glee. Even Master Yoda's perpetual droopy eyelids were pulled back fully to expose the whites of his eyes.

"He can see the Force in lights?"

"Master Yoda, have you ever heard of something like this?"

Master Yoda replied while his eyes never strayed from the youngling before him. "Over eight-hundred years, I am, see many things I have. But this? I have not. Heard of it, I have."

"What is it Master?"

"Old ability, it is. Last recorded during the Sith Wars. Star's Heart, called they were. Pieces of the Force, strong in them."

Awe warred with skepticism in Qui-Gon's eyes, "Is this why the Sith foresaw Kenobi in his visions?" It seemed a reasonable assumption to him. Yan was clearly of the same mind, but Yoda quickly refuted his comment.

"Underestimate, the Sith did, power of a child's love."

Xanatos could only draw Obi-Wan tightly into his arms and thank the Force in heart for this love.

A moment or an eternity later gentle hands lifted the youngling from Dinzori's lap and sat him in the soft folds of well-kept tabards. Curious Obi-Wan raised his chin, turquoise eyes searching the man above him. Yan took a deep breath and turned towards his former Master. Humbled by the courage of a padawan to bear his soul, Yan Dooku as a Jedi himself could do no less.

"Master Yoda, I also have betrayed my Oaths to the temple."

Brown eyes closed swiftly to shut out the looks of surprise or disappointment. It mattered little since he felt Qui-Gon's shock in the Force regardless, as a trickle through his closed bond. While padawans strive to be perfect for their masters, even the masters strive to never fail or show weakness before their students.

"I too fell into temptation to the power of the dark side. Over recent years I have observed in myself the tendency to violently destroy those that oppose me, with words or action. As a shadow I see the scum of the galaxy and it disgusted me that the Senate only allows the Jedi to do so much. More and more I felt that the Jedi Order had fallen from being a religious order into a lap dog of the Republic…."

The voices rose and fell in a lilting cadence, weaving a song of darkness and regret. The way was difficult and seemed to be an endless narrow tunnel, filled with dim shadows. Yet a light remained.

Obi-Wan settled back into the warm lap, eyes fluttering closed. His task was done HE shared his light. Now a nap seemed good.

FIN