In his dream, Anakin was a great leader. His face was in shadow as he sat upon the throne, but that mattered not to the countless thousands who admired him. Woman came and gave him their children to be blessed, and Jedi gathered to lay down their lightsabres at his feet. And he ruled well. There was no insurrection, no petty infighting, nothing that hampered the smooth workings of government while he was in control.

As he continued to sit upon his throne, everything around him changed, and he was no longer on Coruscant, but adrift in the void of space. Stars scrutinized him from every direction, their piercing eyes prickling the skin on the back of his neck. And as he drifted, a beautiful planet swam before him. It was blue and green of the brightest hues, such a cheerful planet. There was no sign of hostility or even of fear from that world; he doubted that it even bore arms. And, though he knew not who, he could sense that someone very dear to him was there.

As he looked on, the planet burst into billions of tiny shards.

Anakin screamed as those glowing, red-hot fragments streaked past him, accompanied by the cry of countless voices. The screams grew louder and louder until he thought his ears would burst. He awoke with cold sweat streaming down his brow.

He pushed back the covers and arose swiftly, making his way into his master's room. Though he could tell at a glance that Obi-Wan was not there, it was clear that someone was. Anakin swept up his lightsabre from the table where it lay and kept it poised, his finger on the ignition switch, as he cautiously pressed his palm to the panel which activated the chamber's gas lights.

He could hear a hiss as Tibanna coursed through the grooves in the walls and then ignited with a pop, bathing the room in its pale yellow glow. An Hephtharo girl, aged about two - nine in human years - was lying sprawled on the floor in a growing pool of her own white blood. He placed a hand on her forehead and felt the undulations of her nerves. She was still alive.

"Kae-ei," he said in his best Thepth - Hello.

Her response was unintelligible, but seemed to express bewilderment.

Anakin elected to try another dialect. The only other form of Peth commonly spoken on this continent was Thyar, in which he had received little training. Her brainwaves were far too weak for him to glean the desired word from them. He would simply have to remember. And it was finally the sound of the word "remember" that brought it back to him. "Roe-okh."

At this, the girl did seem to stir with a purpose. So she was Thyare. How unfortunate for him. At least the grammar structures were similar, though much of Thyar was spoken backwards from Thepth.

He decided to venture a complex sentence. "Chah roe-tiem whobe?"

It was a foolish question, he knew as soon as it was out of his mouth. Lying on the floor bleeding, she was far too weak to move, but at last, he got a response. "O whit."

"Chah doo-geim shre?"

"Roe," was all she was able to gasp out - Me.

She was fading fast, Anakin knew. He could tell it by the throbbing of her delicate brow – each pulse was more pronounced than the last. She had to have treatment soon. Deciding to risk injuring her further, he scooped her into his arms, unprepared for how light she was. She weighed no more than a feather.

He ran down the palace corridors screaming first in Basic and then in Thyar, "Help me! Help me! Litem-roe! Litem-roe!"

Absolute silence. Not a soul stirred.

Anakin, frenzied, his eyes wild with panic, flung open the great wooden doors to the infirmary wing and strode in, clutching the girl tightly in his arms. He stopped and looked around in dismay. The infirmary was empty, the thick curtains drawn. "No!" Anakin cried out with such fury that the little girl he was carrying shuddered. He laid her down on a bed along one wall and began dashing about, rummaging in cupboards and pulling out boxes of dried herbs and bottles of strange cordials. He threw up his hands in dismay. He knew what none of it did.

He returned to the girl's side and placed a hand gently upon her forehead. Her nerves stood out from her skull, their contractions were so intense. She had only moments left if he did nothing.

He took a deep breath and placed both hands upon her chest, closed his eyes, and began to concentrate intensely, pouring out his life into her through the Force. But nothing changed. It was as though he was touching air - less than air - nothing. With a grunt of disbelief he gave it up.

He did all he knew how. The Padawan bent over and kissed her gently upon the forehead. With some strain, her face twisted into a smile - an expression affected for his benefit, as it was not one natural to her species. He could now see the undulations of her forehead from where he stood, and observed how much effort it was taking her to keep her facial muscles taut. And then she was gone.

Anakin's scream was of frustration mixed with rage. He threw himself at the wooden infirmary doors and began pummeling, kicking, striking, until they were but boards and splinters hanging from twisted hinges. And then he ran with all his might, desperate to escape that little girl's ghostly smile.

The young Jedi did not fully know the layout of the palace, but his path took him far from the Garden. Had he let his feet carry him in the other direction, he might have been in time to see his bloodied, unconscious master being lashed roughly to the back of a swoop, but alas, he did not.

He did however hear the swoop racing away from the palace, its engine raucous and grating on a planet where no artificially powered vehicles were allowed. He had half a mind to investigate, but on turning, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that something was standing in the shadows not ten paces behind him, watching him intently. It was very tall and razor thin, covered with bristling fur, with two legs and four arms. Its upper body swayed back and forth, as if it lacked the strength to stay completely upright.

Anakin quickened his stride and reached for his lightsabre. It wasn't there. He cursed, and then gasped as something dropped from the ceiling into his path. It was the thing he had seen following him just a moment before.

"Missing something?" it asked in flawless, warbling Basic, flourishing the missing lightsabre.

"Give me that!" Anakin lunged for the weapon, but the creature snapped it away so that it vanished from sight and a moment later his two-fingered hand was empty.

"Not so fast small one. Rehope see you with pretty toy and Rehope see you cast aside pretty toy to kiss little girl, and Rehope say to self, 'Self, here is man who does not want pretty toy so much as Rehope does,' and so Rehope take pretty toy and go off to play with and then Rehope see that is not pretty toy at all but is light sword - weapon of Jedi. So Rehope wonder what Jedi doing here kissing lovely girl and Rehope wonder why he should little treasure back to Jedi."

"I don't have time for this," Anakin cried, but Rehope paid him no heed.

"You no tell Rehope no stay," it said, and is if to show that its threats were legitimate, it sprang backwards, grasping onto the stone of the ceiling with its spiny feet.

Anakin sighed and passed his hand in front of his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. In all his days on the culturally rich world of Coruscant, or even in the bustling spaceports of Mos Espa, he had never seen anything like the strange creature now before him.

Rehope shrugged, swung all six limbs up to the ceiling, and went scurrying away. Anakin threw up his hands in consternation and ran after the peculiar creature, shouting "Wait!"