Making his way through the lower levels of the stalagmite city, back to the exhaust port where he'd left Padme's ship, Anakin saw only white armored clonetroopers methodically destroying every last machine in the great droid factories. The Geonosians seemed to have vanished entirely. When asked the clones could only shrug.
"Sorry, sir, but I have no idea where they could have gone." a junior officer told him. "Certainly we've seen no sign of them."
"It probably doesn't matter." Anakin answered listlessly. Geonosis wouldn't be contributing any more droids to the Separatists whatever had happened to her people.
The tunnel back to the ship was as empty as the rest of the city, which was good. Anakin knew with grim, cold certainty that he was in no mood to fight with the restraint expected of a Jedi. Grief led to anger every bit as surely as fear did. And every Jedi knew where anger led.
The ship was right where they'd left it - safe and sound - with both his droids aboard. "Good. You found him, Artoo." he said, and the astro-droid gave a satisfied bleep.
"It was a nightmare, Master Anakin!" Threepio all but wailed. "First that dreadful factory - then I found myself in the middle of a battle! I was programmed for languages and protocol not destruction!"
"I know Threepio. I'm sorry, things got a little out of hand." Anakin slid into the pilot's seat and found the ship warmed and ready to go, just as ordered. "Good work, Artoo."
C-3PO tilted his immobile metal face to one side and somehow managed to look worried. "Pardon me, sir, but are you all right?"
Anakin sighed. "Not really, Threepio. My best friend is dead and the Galaxy is at war."
"Oh! Oh dear." the droid sounded upset. "I'm only an interpreter, but if there's anything I can do, Master Anakin -"
"Not yet, but there will be." he turned to give his 3PO unit a sudden smile. "I have a feeling you're going to be a great help to me, Threepio."
"Oh thank you, sir!" the droid answered, flattered. "I certainly hope to be."
Artoo uttered a soft, derisive whistle.
Anakin brought Padme's little courier vessel to rest in the vehicle bay of the Republic command ship. Then, trailed by Artoo and Threepio, he went up, up, up a hundred or so levels to report to his Masters on the command bridge.
Mace Windu was standing in front of a huge port full of stars listening to the report of a clonetrooper officer.
"It was a small ship, sir, one or two man, and didn't fit the configuration of any known fighter so we hailed instead of firing on it. It refused to respond and accelerated rapidly out of the system. I'm afraid we lost it."
Mace looked past the man with the detached, distant expression that Anakin knew meant he was Seeing something. "You weren't meant to catch him, captain, not yet. His time will come."
Either the clones had been warned about the Jedi habit of making mystical and enigmatic remarks or they'd learned to accept it in record time. The man simply saluted and moved off. The Master's eyes turned to Anakin.
"The Queen's ship is secure on board, Master." he reported. Mace nodded, then looked past Anakin to his mechanical entourage.
"Uh, this is Cee-Threepio, a protocol droid my mother lent me."
A hint of smile touched the Master's face. "He is your mother's property?"
"Yes, Master, I'm just borrowing him."
"I see." the amusement slid away. "Get some rest, Anakin."
His face quivered in spite of himself. "It 's very hard to accept, Master. It seems so unfair."
"I know. Believe me I know." Mace put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "It won't always hurt this much, Anakin, in time you will find peace again. And Qui-Gon is just the man to help you do it." a faint crack of a smile. "He has done so for me more than once."
Anakin smiled a little too at the thought of his Master, then looked around. "Where is Master Yoda?"
"Resting, meditating." Mace's expression was sad. "Each of us has lost friends and comrades today, but he has lost students he has known and trained from earliest childhood. And will lose more before this is over."
Anakin thought of his own pain for Jacen's death, multiplied it a hundred and thirty times - with more to come - and shivered. "It will kill him." No one could bear so much grief, not even Yoda.
"I fear it might." Mace agreed quietly.
Anakin found he'd been assigned to a standard officer's cabin, with two bunks and a door leading to an adjoining room, he looked in. It seemed to be some kind of common room with a table seating four, comfortable lounges, shelves for book-crystals or ornaments and a big oval port.
Obi-Wan was standing at the port, looking out at the red globe of Geonosis, with Qui-Gon close behind him. "He is not lost." the Master was saying. "Jacen has become one with the Force. When you touch It, you touch him."
"I know," Obi-Wan choked, "but it's not the same - I miss him already!" breaking down at last, he buried his face in his hands. Qui-Gon put an arm around his shaking shoulders, a silent but infinitely comforting presence. A rock to lean on in grief or trouble.
Anakin gently closed the door. His Master would have time for him later, but for now Obi-Wan's need was the greater. He would find Padme, her presence always soothed him.
She had been given a general officer's suite several levels above Anakin's quarters. Somebody had brought her luggage from her ship and she had changed into a soft gray gown shimmering with gold thread and tiny blue and yellow gemstones. She came straight to his arms.
"Oh, Ani," she said into his chest, "it's all so awful. Poor Jacen. And now we're at war, where will it all end? What will become of us?"
"I don't know what's going to happen, Padme." he answered quietly. "But I do know there will be time for us - somehow, some way. I've seen our children."
"Children!" she pulled back to stare up at him.
He grinned at little. "A girl like you and a boy like me. And with double their parent's gift for trouble from what I saw!" then he sobered. "Padme, I saw them about the age we are now, fighting beside us. I'm afraid this war might last a very long time."
"You mean years, even decades?" she asked in disbelief - and horror. "Anakin if that's true how can we possibly take time for ourselves?"
"We'll find a way." he answered grimly. "It's not self-indulgence, Padme. Our children must be born. The Sith are always two, I can't face them alone. I'll need our son beside me. And you will need our daughter's help just as badly in your own arena." he hugged her closer. "Don't be afraid, Padme, whatever happens we'll face it together; you, and me, and our children."
When he finally returned to his own cabin Anakin was surprised to find Master Dooku sitting on the second bunk, chatting away with Threepio in some strange alien language.
"Qui-Gon is staying with Obi-Wan tonight." the old Master explained. "he must not be left to brood alone."
Anakin cracked a faint grin. "Nor me either." and was answered by a slight twinkle in the Master's deep eyes.
"Qui-Gon apparently feels you can be safely left to my less then tender mercies." Anakin lay down on his bunk as the Master's dark, silken voice continued sadly: "In a way Jacen's death is my fault. If I'd been just a few minutes sooner -"
"That's nonsense!" Anakin interrupted firmly. "You know it is, Master, you came as quick as you could, it wasn't your fault that the Sith -" then he broke off to mock glare at the Master, realizing he'd been tricked.
Dooku smiled. "Quite right, young Padawan. It was the Sith that killed Jacen - and no one else."
"Sneaky, Master, very sneaky." Anakin snorted, settling back on his pillow. "But - you're right. I did lose my temper and my focus but I never meant to put Jacen in danger. I'll try to remember that."
"You are still just a Padawan," Dooku said, almost gently, "nobody expects you to be perfect, my young friend."
"That's good." Anakin said wryly. "Because I'm surely not!"
The Master lay down too and the cabin lights dimmed. Threepio's yellow eyes and and Artoo's single red one glowed in the shadows.
"We're cornered aren't we, Master?" Anakin said quietly, after a while. "Trapped into playing the Sith's game."
"I fear so." Dooku's rich, dark voice answered out of the darkness. "But there will be a way out, Anakin. Trust the Force, as your Master would say."
"Easy for him." Anakin mumbled.
"No." the Master's voice was almost sharp. "It was not easy at all. Qui-Gon fought a long, hard battle to become what he is."
"I'm sorry, Master." Anakin said chastened. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded."
"It is an understandable mistake." said Dooku. "You have known Qui-Gon only as your wise Master. I remember him as a Padawan, young and unsure of himself - much like you."
"Like me." Anakin echoed in a wondering whisper.