Chapter Six

I haven't yet heard from Obi-Wan.

After a mildly awkward breakfast with the Lars family that morning, I promptly hid myself away in their mechanical shed under the guise of repairing their water ionizer so that I could stew about that fact. It has only been three days since I sent him off to find what will essentially herald the beginning of the Clone Wars, so the lack of communication isn't totally surprising. Not surprising, but still causing me a fair amount of anxiety as I wait for everything to fall apart.

I've been so focused on preventing my mother's death that even my most pressing priority, that of dealing with my former master, has taken a backseat to my preoccupation with keeping her alive. I haven't allowed myself to dwell on what I'm going to do after Obi-Wan finds the truth on Kamino, and I need to have a plan for that. Unfortunately, I've had very little time to plan for anything after I woke up thirteen years in the past four nights ago. I've been careening from one crisis to next ever since.

As I tinker beneath the rusty, ancient water ionizer, I finally take the time to calculate my next steps. With my mother's health no longer an emergent concern, I need to figure out what I'm going to do when I hear from Obi-Wan. While simply revealing the entire truth to him seems like the single best option, it isn't necessarily the most practical one.

It is only a matter of time before he makes it to Kamino, if he hasn't already. I know from his recounting in the first timeline that soon after he located the planet and that endless army of clones, he had engaged Jango Fett. His pursuit of the man had eventually led him to Geonosis. There, he would be ultimately captured by Count Dooku and used as leverage to spark the first intragalactic conflict that would herald the official start of what would come to be known as the Clone Wars.

This time that wouldn't happen. This time, when Fett flees onboard the Slave I Obi-Wan might still be inclined to place a tracking beacon on the hull of his ship but, he won't follow him. He won't because I asked him not to do it. Instead, he will come to Tatooine and, he will be expecting answers. Which brings me right back to my earlier dilemma. I really don't know what I'm going to tell him.

Five years into my service to Palpatine, he'd revealed to me that he had intended for the Jedi to discover the clones when they did. "The timing," he'd cackled, "could not have been more perfect." He had never elaborated on why the timing had been so perfect but, I had my suspicions.

He freely admitted to me once that the night my mother died, he had felt that ripple in the Force when I'd reached deep into the dark side to slaughter the Tusken camp. I had been undisciplined, unruly, guided entirely by my rage and unimaginable pain and it had been glorious, he said. He had known then that I would be a formidable and powerful ally, especially once I learned to harness those dark emotions. I realize now, in hindsight, that I had unwittingly given him the signal to execute his plans back then.

I vaguely wonder if I've done the same thing in this timeline. Much like the first time, it had been dark power and bloodlust that allowed me to cut my way through that camp to get to my mother. The only difference between then and now was that I hadn't gone after those fleeing. I didn't exterminate those of the tribe who had clearly surrendered in the aftermath. I had, at least this time, shown some restraint and left some alive.

Still, I know what I had done wasn't the Jedi way. I had shown no reluctance in the killing, had made zero attempts to avoid it. My sole intention had been to maim and destroy, not disable. I hadn't been interested in preserving life. I had gone into that camp to deliver a death sentence to anyone who stood in my way. Further, I didn't feel a single bit of regret over it.

Conversely, however, my actions weren't entirely Sith-like either. There had been a time when I would have destroyed every living thing in that village and possibly another just to serve as a warning example to any remaining sand people. I would have reveled in their fear and pain, reveled in my own because doing so would have only made me more powerful in the dark side of the Force. But that hadn't been a consideration for me this time around. What was unlimited, unchecked power in comparison to my mother's smile?

In coming to terms with the understanding that I'm not a Jedi and I'm not a Sith either, I'm not entirely certain which side of this conflict I should be on. Is neutrality even an option for me given that I did assist in plunging the entire galaxy into a period of deep darkness? I don't know if I simply get to "bow out" after all of that. Furthermore, lessening the destruction and untold death that is sure to follow the war is a tricky situation. There is no simple means of untangling Palpatine's carefully woven strategies, and I know that.

Revealing the identity of the long shrouded Sith lord to Obi-Wan is just a small, incidental part of the looming disaster that lies ahead for the galaxy. The truth won't erase Chancellor Palpatine's growing power and influence over the Galactic Senate, it won't quell the corruption and greed of the politicians tasked to protect the interests of the people they serve, and it won't eradicate the blind ignorance that has come to characterize the Jedi Order as a whole. The proverbial gears for Palpatine's plan are already grinding and the Jedi, whether they realize it or not, have already handed him the means to mete out their destruction.

Those self-righteous, old fools. They're too sure of their own rectitude to see what should be plainly evident to them. I know that even if I were to lay the entire truth bare to them, were to warn them in advance of every nefarious plot Palpatine had planned, they wouldn't listen to a word I said. Despite bestowing me with the title of their long prophesied "Chosen One," the Jedi have never trusted me. Learning that I had sided with their age-old enemy and ultimately betrayed them all would only validate that mistrust.

And perhaps they'd been right to maintain their circumspection. Perhaps they had sensed the darkness in me from the beginning and that was the reason they had been so reluctant to train me. Perhaps they had known, subconsciously, that I would be the one to destroy them. But that didn't explain how they could know all of that about me but never sense the danger from Palpatine, who had been right under their noses the entire time…

Truthfully, their fate is beyond my control. I cannot save the entire Jedi Order from annihilation nor am I certain that I want to. As far as I'm concerned, the Order needs to die. Its grandiose ideals have grown much too rigid, stagnant, and it is long overdue for a cleansing. However, I won't be the one to do it this time. That had always been a responsibility that I hadn't wanted or asked for…at least not in the very beginning… Back then, all I had truly wanted was for Padme' to live.

I don't want to be the one to destroy them this time either. But it also feels wrong to simply stand aside and watch as it happens. Even if I don't agree with their methods, even if they have left me disillusioned and embittered, I can't let them go headlong into oblivion without making some effort to stop it, can I? They need to know what is coming even if they ultimately pay no heed.

And afterwards if they're eventually purged from the galaxy despite my warnings then my conscience will be clear. Then I can walk away from the Order completely and not look back. I'm beginning to understand that is what I must do if I have any hope of ever finding a place where I truly belong.

"What are you doing out here?"

Startled, I scoot out from beneath the ionizer to find Padme' regarding me with a curious frown. She hovers in the open doorway of the Lars work shed, wearing one of those voluminous, bejeweled gowns that loves so much. Her nimble figure is silhouetted in the diaphanous material, her dark curls loose and spilling over the exposed skin of slim shoulders. As usual, she is a vision of ethereal beauty, especially set against the backdrop of Tatooine's stark, rough terrain. But strangely enough she doesn't seem out of place here. Rather she's like an oasis in the middle of this bleak, desert planet, a much-needed place of refreshment and rest.

But even as I'm grateful for the comfort her presence provides, I still find myself wishing she would leave me alone. I've been avoiding her. Mainly, because I know that I should, because allowing the bond between us to strengthen won't serve her in the end. And because I also know she wants answers. My wife might be a tiny woman, but she is no pushover. She is tenacious and ferociously determined and I know that she will not stop until she gets what she wants.

Considering all of that, retreat had seemed to be my best option of defense. I should have known, however, that she would come after me because Padme' has never conceded a battle in her life. Her foolish decision to follow me to Mustafar had proven that because even when it was clear to everyone, including Obi-Wan, that I was lost, she wouldn't let me go.

Even after she had confirmation of what I had done at the Temple, she had still begged me to come away with her. She had believed right until the end that what had been broken could be mended. Don't do this…come back…I love you!

I shake away the memory as I set aside my tools and roll to my feet, not wanting to dwell on that night and what soon followed. As a means of avoiding her gaze, I locate a nearby rag and take my time wiping the traces of grease from my hands. Once I've successfully blinked back the tears that threaten, I find the courage to meet her eyes again.

"This farm needs a lot of repairs," I tell her, "The Lars are good people but good mechanics they are not."

Padme' appears skeptical at my explanation. "So, you came out here to fix things?"

"Why else would I come out here?"

"Because you're avoiding me," she discerns, her manner forthright and matter of fact. I'm slightly annoyed by how easily she reads me. "You've been doing it since last night, because you know I'm going to ask you questions that you don't want to answer."

She holds up her hand, coolly commanding my silence when I would have refuted her charge. Though I'm not entirely sure why I should even bother trying to convince her otherwise. Clearly, she's not fooled, and her next statement confirms that.

"Save your breath, Anakin. I won't press you anymore." She lifts her chin and surveys me with steely resolve. "It's not because I'm afraid. I can handle anything you tell me but… I can see that talking about your vision distresses you and you're already dealing with enough. I don't wish to add to your burden."

"I…thank you." For the first time since I saw her standing there, I relax a bit.

"That isn't to say that I don't expect an explanation eventually," she warns me, "but I can wait…for now."

"Understood, milady."

With that clarification between us, I turn aside to gather up the scattered tools I've been using and return them to their proper place. To my surprise, Padme' continues to linger and that unnerves me. I'm incessantly vacillating between needing her to leave and wanting her to stay.

I glance over at her expectantly and she offers me a small smile. "Was there something else you needed?"

"I just came from visiting with your mother just now."

I find that disclosure unsettling to say the least, but I'm careful to keep my expression neutral. "Oh?"

"We talked for quite a while."

"Is that so? About what exactly?"

"About you." I'm unable to maintain my mask of indifference. I glance at her sharply and I'm sure there is a vast array of emotions that are chasing their way across my face right now. Padme's smile widens. "Don't look so terrified. It was nothing bad. She's quite proud of you, you know?"

"I can't imagine why."

Padme' scoffs at what I'm sure she believes is false modesty on my part. "Can't you? Anakin, really! You singlehandedly saved her life! That's all anyone can talk about, especially now that the reports of what really happened are coming in."

"And what are those 'reports' saying?" I inquire woodenly.

"That you destroyed that village…and that most of the Tuskens were killed."

I cross my arms and regard her with a dispassionate stare, concealing my fear of her coming disgust behind an enigmatic glare. "And how does that make you feel about me? Do you think that I'm a cold-blooded killer?"

"No, I don't think that at all! I think you did what you had to do in order to save your mother," she counters softly, "What anyone in your place would have done. Do you think you're a killer?"

"I know I am but, I made my peace with that a long time ago."

I'm almost certain I see her suppress a tiny shudder but, for the most part, she maintains her unruffled veneer, despite the confusion I know she must feel over my cryptic reply. "That's not how your mother sees it. Or the Lars family. Or me, for that matter."

"Yeah, well there might be a measure of bias involved there," I mumble grudgingly. She merely bites back an impish smile in reply. "So, what else did you talk about besides me?"

"She told me about her resistance efforts with freeing the slaves on Tatooine," she replies, "She wants to implement her methods on other planets and asked if I could use my influence in the Senate to help her. Your mother is very determined and very brave."

"She needs to focus on recovery, not resistance," I mutter.

"She is. She seems to be doing much better. I'm actually very surprised that she remembered who I was. The last time we saw one another I was only a girl."

"Of course, she remembers you," I murmur as I absently finger a nearby box of tools, "You're a difficult person to forget, Padme'."

Rather than provoking a smile though, the unspoken compliment incurs a gloomy sigh from her instead. "You were so quiet during breakfast this morning. I thought that…maybe you were still afraid that she might not—,"

"—No," I interrupt before she can finish her statement, "I'm confident she'll live."

"And yet you still seem troubled."

"I am always troubled."

"That doesn't sound like a very happy existence at all."

It's odd but I find her sweet compassion more difficult to endure than the distance she had erected between us days before. "You needn't concern yourself with my well-being, Padme'. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that you can, but I can't help it. I care about you. Deal with it." When I start to protest, she adds direly, "And if you dare say you don't deserve it, I will be forced to throw one of these tools at your head!"

My lips twitch with an amused smile. "Violence does not strike me as a very diplomatic response to exasperation, Senator."

"Perhaps not, but it makes me really angry when you act as if you don't deserve to be happy."

"Maybe I don't."

"How can you even say that?" she cries, throwing up her hands, "Of course you deserve to be happy! You're one of the best people I know, Anakin!"

I'm unsuccessful at swallowing my scornful snort of laughter. "You don't know a thing about me! And, if you did, you would know that I'm not a good person!"

"Is this about what happened with the Tuskens?"

"No, it's not! You don't know what I'm capable of! You don't know me!"

"I know you better than you think," she counters staunchly, "You and I are the same and I've known that since the day we met. I know what it's like to have incredible responsibility thrust upon you when you're little more than a child, something that you neither asked for nor wanted. I know how it feels to be told who you're going to be rather than being given the opportunity to make that discovery on your own. And I know what it is to be surrounded by people and still feel utterly and completely alone.

"I know how you feel, Anakin, because I've been you. I am you. So, I would really appreciate it if you could stop pushing me away!"

Though I turn away from her at the charge because her words are like a physical assault battering down all my emotional defenses, I still can't stop my tears from spilling over. It's a long time before I trust myself to speak again and, when I do, my words are raspy, barely above a hoarse whisper. "I was watching them today…my mother with Cliegg and Owen and Beru and it struck me what a perfect little family unit they make.

"She's so happy and…I'm glad for her. They love her so much and she loves them too. They're her family now."

I sense when he comes up behind me, and I manage not to flinch away from her touch when she places her hand against the small of my back. "Is that what this is all about? You don't feel like you belong here, belong with her?"

"I don't…"

She stubbornly sidles around to face me, refusing to let me avoid her steady brown gaze. "Yes, you do. You're her family too. Nothing can ever change that!"

"I feel like an outsider here. I am an outsider…"

"Because she has a family now?"

"Because I don't belong anywhere," I burst out sharply, "Not here with my mother, not in the Order, and not..." Not with you, I finish in my heart.

"What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?"

"I don't want to be Jedi, not anymore. I can't!"

"Anakin, I don't understand—,"

"—I never told you, but the Jedi never wanted to train me. They were against it from the start. I was too old, had too many attachments, was too unstable.

"They don't trust me. They never have! The only reason Obi-Wan agreed to take me as his padawan was because he promised a dying Qui-Gon! I'm a burden to him. He didn't want me anymore than the Order did!"

"Anakin, you don't really believe that! You're only saying these things because you're hurt and confused!"

"I do believe that!" I insist vehemently, "And my mom… I want her to be happy! I really do! I don't begrudge her moving forward but, it feels like she left me behind…which I suppose is ironic since I'm the one who left her!"

"She wanted you to go," Padme' argues, "She wanted better for you than this life! Anakin, you can't blame yourself for events that are beyond your control!"

But I do blame myself and there's nothing she can say to absolve me of that guilt. "I thought that if I could save her, it would take away this…this worthlessness I feel inside! But it hasn't! And I don't think that anything ever will." I sink to the dirt floor then and bury my face in my arms, unable to quell my broken sobs. "I'm so tired of feeling this way!"

Padme' is there, her arms wrapped around me tightly, her face pressed to mine as she weeps openly as well. "Oh, Ani…I'm so sorry. It hurts me so much to see you like this."

"I don't want your pity, Padme'."

She cradles my face in her hands, gently compelling me to meet her earnest stare. "It's not pity," she whispers, "I think…I love you, Anakin."

I'm not fully prepared for her kiss. It's soft. Fleeting really. Barely an exchange of breath as she brushes her lips sweetly and softly against my own. She rears back almost immediately after the brief contact, but she appears shattered by her actions. Stunned into silence. So am I.

But it's too late to take it back. She's released something primal in me that won't be contained now. Just that one simple, affectionate gesture sets my entire world ablaze. The persistent need for her that has been gnawing away inside of me for days, years really, suddenly burst forth and sweeps through me with ferocity that I have never known before.

Before I can stop myself, I'm kissing her, really kissing her…like I've wanted to do for the past ten years. My hands in her hair, my mouth plundering. Unrestrained, unbridled, uninhibited. I turn into her body, and I let myself fall, give myself over completely to the remarkable joy of tasting her again, of feeling her body pressed against mine.

She moans into my mouth, and I know that she's shocked by my passion. I know I should slow down, should stop entirely but I can't. I am a slave to my own desire and to hers. Rather than pushing me away as she should, she kisses me back with equal intensity, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer so that there is no barrier between us except our clothing.

I drag my hands from her hair to her exposed shoulders with the full intention of reacquainting myself with every smooth, delicate inch of her body when the rough sound of someone loudly clearing their throat breaks us apart. Though our kiss ends abruptly we remain in each other's arms. Padme' immediately buries her burning face in my neck while I raise my eyes to find Beru hovering in the open doorway of the mechanical shed. Her face is bright red, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and burgeoning amusement.

It's difficult to meet her eyes without a blush of my own. I'm not sure I succeed. "Yes, Beru?"

"I didn't mean to interrupt. You've been out here a long time. I've prepared the midday meal. I thought you might want something to eat."

I don't. I want something else entirely right now and it has nothing to do with food. Still, I manage to reply huskily, "Yes. We'll be there shortly. Thank you."

Only when she is gone does Padme' lift her face from the crook of my neck. Her cheeks are alive with color, her lips pink and swollen from our wild kisses, her dark eyes glassy with need. It requires every ounce of restraint I have not to kiss her again. And, from the fervid way she's staring at my mouth right now, she is mounting a similar struggle. I immediately shrug away from her and quickly shuffle back several steps to put some needed distance between us.

When she finally lifts her eyes to mine, I can easily read the uncertainty lurking in their brown depths. "This is going to be a problem for you, isn't it?" she discerns quietly.

You have no idea, Padme'. You have no idea.