Chapter 4 - Darkness

Two men had died. One had been his master. One had been his apprentice. One death inevitable. The other unanticipated. And yet both would serve as guidance on his way further down the path of darkness.

The room was dark, allowing for sinister thoughts. Sidious embraced them.

To him the Force had always felt like a constantly humming web of energy. A web spanning across the galaxy, thin threads of shadow, weaving, building and strengthening. Running their course in the constant way of things. Connections everywhere. To everything. But he was slowly, patiently working his way towards becoming the nexus of it all. Becoming the spider at the centre of the web. Eventually, Sidious mused, one move, one thought from him would suffice to make the Force tremble. He could feel it. The promise of the Dark Side, luring, whispering to him in the depths of his meditation. A promise that required strength and ruthlessness and would hand him the galaxy if he dared seize it.

The Darkness was a part of everything. An underlying energy, ever present. No light without it and the Dark Side was and had always been part of the Force. He knew this, freely accepted what the jedi liked to deny and oppose. And he could sense it. Pulsing, ebbing and flowing, swirling around his mind as the strings of his web kept growing. He reached into the Darkness and spun it, weaved it, twisted it with his mind, letting the shadows between the light embrace him. Letting it shroud him. Hiding him further and ever more deeply. Until nothing could detect his true intentions any more through the protective mist of deception. The death of his master, he could feel, had only amplified his own powers as he had known it would. Had needed it to.

It was one of the quintessential rules of the Force that aided him here. Where there was light, there was darkness. Where there was great light, great darkness was not far away. The jedi temple on Coruscant was one of the most luminous places in this part of the galaxy, a thriving beacon of light, but built on a foundation of a Dark Side nexus. Balance, one weighing up the other like the eternal equilibrium of life and death. The jedi barely spoke of it. Sidious even doubted that all of them knew of it. However, to him the darkness under the temple offered a unique possibility: The energy he needed to disguise himself from the Order. It was all he needed. The Darkness. The rage. The power. And he could feel it all flow through him, humming like a great beast ready to strike. And he revelled in the omnipotence it promised him. On day...one day he would be the nexus the Darkness promised. One day, he would rule the galaxy.

He could feel it stronger now, more powerful than he had ever felt it. Maybe it was his plans falling into place that had made him bold. The blockade against Naboo had worked as planned. The weakling that had held the post of chancellor until very recently had been ousted, leadership passing to him, Sidious, instead, without anyone in the entire Republic knowing he had orchestrated this masterfully. Almost a pity they couldn´t know. He would have gained some satisfaction from the stunned astonishment on their faces. From their fear.

But it wasn´t that alone that was strengthening the web of darkness centring in his mind and reaching outwards...outwards into the great nothing, bridging voids that the jedi did not dare tread upon. Because not all had worked as planned. His apprentice was dead. Had failed him. Years of training, of grooming, of shaping and molding and sharpening him like the perfect tool and he was cut down by a mere jedi padawan. He had sent him to Naboo to deal with those jedi. The one who had found the boy on Tattooine and his apprentice. He had been certain that the young sith would be able to do away with them easily enough. Jinn after all, was aging. No real obstacle. And Kenobi? Young, nimble, with a tinge of arrogance, Sidious believed, that was such a common character trait in the jedi. The kind that overestimated themselves in their youthful vigour. Sidious could hardly believe that this padawan who had barely outgrown boyhood had defeated the zabrac he had prepared for years, whose hatred he had nurtured like a wild beast until the zabrac was sustained by it as much as by any other sustenance. And yet... and yet... Sidious could feel the rage again at the very thought. The rage he had felt upon learning his apprentice´s fate. That was something he had not anticipated. And it had him fuming...

And in all that rage he felt the Dark Side thrumming. Strengthening. He breathed deeply, his body otherwise motionless as he sat in deep meditation. Hatred was good, was nurturing, and he admitted it. But there was the hatred for the zabrac´s murderer, the disgust at his apprentice´s miserable failure and the darkness that sustained his heart after the murder he himself had committed mere hours ago. It had been unavoidable and his master had known it. Darth Plagueis himself had taught Sidious that the Rule of Two was the way of the Sith and that through killing their masters once they had become powerul enough to do so, the Sith grew in strength and wisdom and understanding of the Dark Side, each generation of Sith stronger, more powerful than the one before it, absorbing and amassing the power and knowledge of generations upon generaitons of Sith before them. He believed it. Felt it now that he was the master. Plagueis´ end had been... almost pitiful. Struck down in his sleep in a drunken stupor. Such irony of fate, an undignified end for a man who had attempted to beat death in his day. Who had dedicated his life to attempts of manipulating the Force, twisting the essence of life itself in the attempt to learn their powers. And yet, Sidious could feel how the deed had strengthened him. His connection to the Dark Side was alive and strong, stronger than it had ever been.

Two men had died. One had been his master. One had been his apprentice. And another was alive who shouldn´t be. He would rectify that. And he already had an idea of how to make that happen ... one that was so sinister it made him chuckle to himself. Oh, it would be a sweet, sweet revenge on the jedi, and even sweeter a revenge on the man who should have died: Qui Gon Jinn.

He had found the small model of a jedi starfighter standing on his desk when he had entered his chambers to pack his things. A small figurine, just two handspans long and manifactured charmingly yet somewhat crudely from junk pieces of metal but the likeness was astonishing. Obi-Wan had stopped in his tracks upon spotting it. On his desk. In his room. Placed there by the boy who was about to move in. No, he had reminded himself. This was no longer his room now. He had slept here for the last time the night before. Woken up here for the last time early this morning. But this moment should be his and the starfighter model, crafted by the boy in times when all he could imagine about the jedi was stories and dreams, seemed an intrusion. As if the boy had already come in here to declare this was his space now, leaving the toy like an explorer´s flag on an unclaimed world.

He knew this was nonsense but it was a feeling that was too stubborn to be fully shaken off.

It was a feeling that was hard to describe. He still felt a certain kind of exhaltation from the day before when he had found himself in the Knighting Chamber, unexpected, humbled and still allowing himself at least a little of what he could sense his master was feeling. But while that lingered, it was strange, after all these years, to do the more trivial things that came with the transition from padawan to knight. Such as vacating his padawan quarters in order to move to the knights´ wing.

Packing had not taken that much time. His clothes and gear, his boots and grooming utensils were rather quickly gathered. The little things that had collected over the years, some of them neatly ordered on the shelves and table around the simple room, others stored in a plasteel box by the foot end of his bed were another matter. Not because they were difficult to pack but because Obi-Wan found his mind wandering frequently when he would pick up one thing or another, feeling reminded of his years with his master before even placing it in the bag he had brought. Here was an interestingly shaped stone he had picked up during one of their first missions together on a Midrim world whose name he had forgotten, there was pair of feathers he had received as a simple gift from a Twi Lek youngling he had encountered on Balmorra after they had freed about a dozen captives from slavers who had come all the way out to make illegal trades. And then there was the thin leather ribbon with a pendant of a tear drop shaped deep blue stone framed in an elaborate, fragile looking net of silver. He knew it wasn´t fragile at all, it would not break if he tried to pry it apart and yet he touched it ever so gently with his thumb while it lay on his hand. This pendant, he knew, was worth a lot of credits, the beskar would fetch a handsome price even though there was so little of it. Not that he´d ever sell it. Because even though it had been years since he had touched this pendenat, the memory was back with an instant. There was good reason why he had stored it, carefully stored it, at the deepest spot in the trunk. Memories could be difficult. Could be painful. And he had indeed stopped in his endeavour of clearling out the plasteel box and gotten lost in memories of Mandalore. It was been five years. And yet, he still remembered her face. How she had so stubbornly fought back tears as she had closed his fingers around this very pendant. How she ...

He looked up, his head turning around as his hand quickly closed around the stone. He had sensed Qui Gon of course and got a feeling that the older man had been standing in the door frame for a few moments already, watching. The jedi master had his arms crossed in front of his chest lightly. And when Obi-Wan looked up, he could tell that his former master had caught the move, looking up from Obi-Wan´s hand just now. He felt his cheeks redden a bit as if he were a youngling again.

"Your new quarters will be a bit more spacious." Was there the hint of a smirk on the older man´s face? He couldn´t tell. He stood up and while doing so shoved the pendant into his right pocket.

"I imagine so." he said with a small smile, his eyes, involuntarily, once more going back to the small scrap starfighter. "I see Anakin´s already found his new room."

No remark on that and maybe that is better so since Obi-Wan was mildly aware of the small edge there was to his voice. Instead, his master remained calm for a moment before speaking. "All of this is new, it´s a new time in your life and you will now walk your own path, Obi-Wan. But that doesn´t mean our paths won´t cross. They will again. Many times. You and I we make a great team and I have often thought of the time when you would no longer be my student. Of the jedi you would become."

Obi-Wan felt himself smiling a bit before lowering his gaze out of a slight awkwardness. We will have plemtytime to find out about him then." he said "Once the boy has gotten settled a bit and ..." He paused. "Has master Yoda changed his mind then? On your training him?"

He more sensed than saw...a slight tensing? A small idea of defiance? He wasn´t unfamiliar to it. It was the common feeling of his master´s stoic presence in the Force ever so slightly bracing when... "Master..." He could feel the sigh coming.

"It´s Qui Gon now." Obviously trying to distract. "And I will handle the Council on the matter, Obi-Wan, so don´t you worry about it."

"I am not worrying." There was a bit of a defiant tone to it, admittedly.

"I am glad to hear that."

Obi-Wan decided not to comment any further. There was an endless amount of subtext to the older man´s words and he knew all too well that Qui Gon had probably already thought of a way to go to head with the council over Anakin who, as he was quite certain now, was still not officially accepted into the Order. With everything going on, this had simply not been addressed yet.

He shook his head lightly, but more in amusement than anything. "One day, master, you will get into serious trouble with the Council..." The fact that the boy had already made himself at home at least a little bit told a lot about his master´s...his former master´s, he corrected himself with a difficult to grasp reluctance... confidence in the boy´s future. They had not accepted him yet and it seemed very much up in the air whether they even would, but Obi-Wan was almost certain that Qui Gon had assured the boy that of course everthing would be fine.

Whether or not he was aware of his former padawan´s conslusion was impossible to tell. Qui Gon just chuckled. "I think I we both have seen worse trouble, and recently, too."

"That is true, I guess."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth again but before he could give word to any other concerns there was the sound of eager footsteps and moments later the boy came bolting through the door, stopping by pretty much bumping into Qui Gon. "Master Qui Gon, I just found the speeder decks and you wouldn´t believe the kind of speeders they got there..." The boy´s enthusiasm was palpable, washing through the Force like a wave in a way that almost, involuntarily, made Obi-Wan mentally turn away as the boy´s presence was causing ripples in the calm of the easy calm that had been moments ago. Because just like that, the moment, the easy calm, was over.

"Hi." Anakin said, looking over at him, apparently having noticed him a second or two later, maybe not having expected anyone else to be in the room. Obi-Wan gave him a smile, feeling odd about the fact that it felt a bit difficult to do. "Hello." he said, before looking back down at his emptied out plasteel box. Yes, the moment was definitely over. As were...some other things. He was a knight now and as odd as it felt, maybe dwelling on this and dragging the moment on was not what he was supposed to do at all. He should possibly be glad for the boy to arrive before he could get lost in more...reminiscence.

"I should get going." he said. "And settle into my new quarters." He picked up the duffel back that he had placed his belongings into. Anakin walked over at him and jumped onto the bed, glancing into the bag a moment before Obi-Wan closed it, giving the former padawan a curious look as if expecting a story. "Just a few things." Obi-Wan said. "This is your place now." It felt so odd to say it. He shouldered his bag. It felt heavy. And he could tell his master knew. He could feel the older man´s gaze, could sense his calm presence in the Force. He wondered whether to say something else, but then just adjusted the bag, took a breath. He felt like he had to leave now, before things became awkward. He gave his master...Qui Gon, a nod and stepped past him, through the door.

"I will see you later, my boy."

He stopped. Fought down a strange feeling in his throat. Not padawan any more, but the address giving away that this man he had just walked past had been the closest thing he had ever had for a father. And still was. Could this boy they had picked up on Tattooine really change that? Could his being a knight now, something he had worked forward to, had aspired to but suddenly felt oddly unprepared for? Surely not. He turned over his shoulder.

"You will?"

The older man´s eyebrows rose. "Of course." he then said, brow furrowing in earnest amusement. "We haven´t celebrated your promotion yet." And in that moment, despite the presence of the boy, physically and mentally, it felt like a strengthening of the Bond. He felt himself smile and give a nod, before he was out the door, feeling a small weight lifting.*

Author´s note: Thanks for the faves, likes and comments. I am sorry for the long wait, things have been terribly busy.