Chapter 66: Dimming the Stars (Part 3)
Sidious leans back in his chair, looking thoughtfully at Jedi Master Windu and Fay standing across his desk from him. "Do you believe Tachi will return?"
Windu folds his arms into his robes. "Likely, but it still does not excuse that she has, yet again, broken her parole."
"Yes, quite," he agrees quietly, "But like last time, she did it for the sake of others, so I am loathe to advise discipline in what should be wanted behavior from her."
Not wanted for a Sith of course, her attachment to Skywalker is an annoyance, but he doesn't believe it will hamper him in the long run. She is also far too late to stop what is to come. The bounty hunter should be taking care of that pathetic little slave wench today. Tachi doesn't have enough time to finish traveling through hyperspace to get there in time. She shouldn't have enough time to find the bounty hunter before they get off planet either... but it wouldn't hurt to send a message that they're being pursued and to get off-world. The bounty hunter could have further use and he'd rather not lose it because they wanted to get drunk post-mission at a bar.
He clears his throat. "There is also the matter that I am curious about. I am not so knowledgeable about... visions I believe their called? Tachi obviously believes there is merit to Young Skywalker's dreams. Does the Jedi Order disagree?"
Oh, please say they disagree. He will gladly show that to Skywalker as yet another way to drive a wedge between him and the Order. They just keep offering these to him on a platter. Its honestly ridiculous on how little he has to try.
Windu and Fay exchange glances. The latter speaks, "We were not aware of it. I personally had thought whatever issues Padawan Skywalker was having was a matter his Master would handle. After digging into it while investigating Tachi's disappearance... I wish the padawan had approached someone else about it."
Windu nods. "Qui-Gon Jinn, while he acknowledges them, has notorious dislike for Force Visions after a rather unfortunate incident in his youth involving misreading them. It makes him... cautious..."
Not to mention Sidious's own needling of Jinn about Shmi Skywalker could have also influenced the decision. Such rewards reaping themselves later on is oh so gratifying.
Windu hasn't stopped speaking, "...after asking Master Dooku, he had not been aware of the repetitious nature of the dreams, he'd only been asked the one time by Skywalker. I'm not sure what should have been done about it either way, as it is not the Jedi Way to leave those in dire need to fend for themselves when we know if it. But we have been stretched thin as of late, and Skywalker would not be involved with whatever the end result would have been, as it would increase his attachment and have him emotionally compromised during any mission involving seeking out his mother."
Fay sighs softly. "We also do not have jurisdiction there either. Shmi Skywalker is a slave last we knew, we cannot simply go and take her to safety. We cannot leave a team in the area indefinitely if there is no immediate threat, and purchasing her freedom is, unfortunately, not something we can do without setting a precedent that could be taken as 'why don't we buy everyone's freedom' and 'its okay to buy slaves' even if we were to free them after. Qui-Gon Jinn was fortunate to get away with the heavy handed way he attained Padawan Skywalker's freedom as it is."
Sidious does a fake grimace. "Yes, I wasn't exactly thrilled myself to hear that Anakin had participated in a podrace, as much as it did help the then Queen Amidala. Especially less-so when I learned of Master Jinn's 'gambling'. Sometimes I did wonder if it had occurred to him at all what it would have done if Anakin hadn't been able to win. The predicament it would have placed them in, and the crushing guilt it would have put on the poor boy."
"The council was not particularly impressed with him," agreed Windu, "But we had other more pressing matters than Qui-Gon Jinn following his own desires and chalking it up to the Will of the Force yet again."
"Mm, quite," said Sidious, noncommittal, "Still, I hope nothing ill befalls the poor woman. She's already suffered enough."
He had given orders for the death to be painful, he hoped the bounty hunter doesn't disappoint.
"As for Tachi herself," he muses, "I don't believe bringing this before the courts is the best course of action, but I do agree that, in light of yet another breach in her parole, there needs to be consequences."
He has things coming up that he does not want to risk his insolent renegade apprentice getting involved in if she has another flight of fancy. "Revoking of all travel privileges around the temple potentially? A house arrest, limiting her solely to her apartment, for the remainder of her parole perhaps?"
"Quite agreeable," said Master Fay, "I will recommend it to the rest of the Council.
Good, good. He'd rather she be locked down until the expected time. "Good, keep me appraised upon her return."
"Of course, Chancellor," said Windu before both Jedi bowed and made to leave...
MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Both Jedi give small shrill shrieks and crash to their knees. Sidious grimaces at the psychic scream ripping through the Force, clenches his jaw, and gives a small gasp. "M-master Jedi, are you alright?"
He feels something trickling down his nose and quickly wipes it on the underside of his arm-is that blood? Did that slave brat give him a nose-bleed just by screaming in the Force? He smothers his anger with the potential question if he killed anyone closer to him with that. Or at least damaged them. It would be a pleasant surprise. But still, perhaps Sidious should have waited until he was off planet and on the other side of the galaxy for the bounty hunter to make the kill, because that had been... unpleasant.
Both Jedi shakily rose to their feet, Fay swayed a bit before taking in a shaky breath. "Padawan Skywalker screamed in the Force."
"Oh... oh dear," said Sidious, "Oh dear."
Windu massages his face and swears quietly under his breath. "I believe we need to return to the temple, now."
He watches them rush out before rising to his feet and making way to the window, staring out at the Jedi Temple. He raises his arm and twists the clothes, glancing at the small blood smear.
He scowls and turns away.
Obi-Wan is running through the halls of the temple, Jinzler at his heels despite the dizziness and pain she got from the backlash of that scream. Sweet Force, and Obi-Wan thought he had been a projector when he was young. That was... that was brutal. There are Jedi standing around dazed, or helping one another back to their feet. He had a sense that the Halls of Healing were going to be a mess after this, and he hopes that the scream hadn't given any of the elders a heart attack or damaged anyone in intensive care. The creche was a bit more shielded, so he was at least somewhat confident none of the youngest and most vulnerable had received permanent damage.
But still..
Sweet Force...
The only thing he feels from the bond to Qui-Gon is a high pitched whine and a sense of 'painfully dazed'. His old Master had been right with Anakin if he felt right, right at the epicenter, he's definitely going to need medical attention if not a mind healer to make sure there isn't permanent damage.
"Master... what was that?" asked Jinzler finally, "Anakin?"
Obi-Wan's jaw clenches. "That, was Anakin suffering a great tragedy, and him most likely going to be upset with all of us for a very long time."
To say the least. Kriff, just kriff. He hadn't thought it had been anywhere near this bad until the Council had got involved with Siri's latest disappearance and started asking questions. Anakin had been one of the first questioned since he had suddenly been in a good mood right after her disappearance after being so sour for so long, and well... after a great deal of prodding...
Months.
Premonitions for months.
Why hadn't the teenager mentioned it when they were talking? Anakin just... seemed so unwilling to trust in him, in anyone really. Only Qui-Gon, and Siri he supposed, and that hadn't been enough. The lack of trust in others aside from a very specific few... its not a good thing as a Jedi, not a good thing at all. He's not sure what they would have done if they had all the details from the get go, but... he hopes something. He's not sure either way, and now its too late regardless, and...
And...
He feels the rage and anger and grief.
Then he feels Qui-Gon's agony.
Oh kriff.
Obi-Wan taps into the Force and speeds down the halls at a rapid pace, sidestepping around or leaping over others until he barrels into the Jinn/Skywalker apartment...
"...YOUR FAULT!" screamed Anakin, eyes mad with pain and suffering, "ITS YOUR FAULT!"
Qui-Gon Jinn is slammed into the wall of the apartment, clutching his throat with his hands, face shading, held there choking by Anakin's titanic grip in the Force.
"Anakin stop!" cries out Obi-Wan.
The teen snarls and waves a hand...
"Omph!" exclaims Obi-Wan before he's slammed into a wall and slides down, dazed by the force of the blow.
Jinzler arrives in time to see it, and see Qui-Gon. She leaps across the room and tackles Anakin to the ground. "Anakin get a hold of yourself!"
Qui-Gon crashes to the floor, taking deep, pained, rasping breaths.
"SHE'S DEAD!" screamed Anakin, sobbing, "SHE'S DEAD AND ITS HIS FAULT!"
Obi-Wan forces himself to his feet and rushes over to help his padawan with tackling Anakin and forcing the crying teen into place. "I'm sorry Anakin, I'm sorry, shh, it will be okay, shh..."
"Siri said," Anakin hiccuped, "She promised she'd save her..."
"Siri is likely to not even be out of hyperspace yet," said Obi-Wan softly, "I'm so sorry."
Anakin clutches Obi-Wan and sobs into his tunic. Its only Qui-Gon's rattling breath that forces his attention away. "Padawan, please help Master Jinn to the Halls of Healing."
"If... if you're sure," she said slowly, her fear for his own safety apparent.
"I'm sure," he answers, "Go."
Jinzler puts Qui-Gon's arm over her shoulder and drags him from the room, leaving Obi-Wan with the distraught teen. He hefts him up and carries him to the apartment's couch. Definitely not as easy to lift as he was when he was nine.
"It... its like...," rasps Anakin, "Its like there is a hole in me... it hurts... it hurts so much..."
Obi-Wan purposes his lips. A hole? That suggests...
Anakin had premonitions for months... he was powerful in the Force, but to feel someone's death across the galaxy? Did he perhaps... had there been a Force Bond to his mother? Even potentially worse, had she been Force Sensitive as well and reciprocated it unknowingly? Oh dear... oh dear...
"Oh brother padawan mine," he said sorrowfully.
Anakin is definitely going to need to have a mind healer check for a ruptured bond, especially one that would be as deep as a Force Sensitive mother and son who only ever had eachother to rely upon during their time together as slaves. That would... he had never even thought about that before now...
He holds him until the teen had exhausted himself to a fitful shaking state before summoning the Force for strength and steadily walks to the Halls of Healing. He drops Anakin off with a healer, a promise to return, and seeks out his old Master to see how he's doing. He finds Master Che tending to Qui-Gon's neck, healing light emanating from her hands. Jinzler is there standing by the door.
"I'd prefer if you talked as little as possible for the next few days, not that you will listen," said Master Che, "Be careful eating, and for Force sake, do not do anything to re-injure the area anytime soon. Considering the strain I feel you are very lucky your neck wasn't snapped."
"I would have deserved it," said Qui-Gon softly, "I always fail my padawans..."
Oh not this again.
"Feemor, Xanatos, too many times in Obi-Wan's apprenticeship, and now Anakin..." he rasps.
"What did I say about talking?" snapped Master Che.
Obi-Wan frowned. Who was Feemor? To his knowledge, Qui-Gon hadn't had an apprentice before Xanatos...
The door opens behind him, and he turns his heed to see Dooku walk in, worried eyes looking over Qui-Gon who doesn't even seem to realize anyone else is in the room. Obi-Wan nudges him and nods towards the door, and they step out.
"Jinzler sent me a com message, how is he?" asked Dooku.
"He'll survive, but I fear he is going to enter another episodic like when Tahl passed, or I imagine like it would have been when Xanatos fell."
Dooku grimaced. "I suppose I don't need to ask the specifics of what happened considering the Council's recent questioning and Skywalker's Force Scream."
Obi-Wan sighs and shakes his head. "No, but I don't think any of us considered that his mother might have been Force Sensitive, and had a bond between them."
Dooku scowled. "Would one truly have lasted these years?"
"He's the most powerful Force Sensitive ever born," Obi-Wan reminded, "And he is a very attached individual."
Dooku sighed and rubbed his face. "Point."
Obi-Wan likes his lips. "Qui-Gon mentioned..."
He hesitates, unsure how to ask, or if he truly wants to know.
"Grandmaster," asked Obi-Wan slowly, "Who is Feemor?"
Dooku froze, and for perhaps the first time ever, Obi-Wan saw Yan Dooku look so mortified he thought the man might faint as he near squeaks out, "He never told you?"
"No?"
Dooku swears under his breath. "Damn you Qui-Gon Jinn for forcing this on me."
Oh that's a lovely start and promises nothing good.
"Feemor was... Qui-Gon Jinn's first apprentice," admits Dooku, and Obi-Wan's heart lurches to hear those words, "But after Xanatos fell to the Dark Side... well... Qui-Gon never reacts well to such personal loses. He swore off his first apprenticeship and dismissed it as a fluke that never happened, even going as far as to badger the record keepers about pulling it from his files, then he cut ties with Feemor."
Obi-Wan gapes, because really, there isn't a proper response to that.
"I'd tell you to close your mouth, but I understand the sentiment," said Dooku mildly, "We were all thankful that Feemor was a knight of his own and couldn't actually be repudiated that way and lose his Knighthood. Qui-Gon was in pain over the loss and was looking to assign blame. He chose everyone around him, save Tahl of course, and it was around that time we truly fell out of touch, but as he tends to do, he blamed himself the most."
"It doesn't excuse what he did to Feemor, that's...," Obi-Wan shakes his head, "Of all the bantha shit he's ever done..."
"Quite," agreed Dooku, "I do care for my padawan, and think he is a good man. But when truly terrible events happens and he makes choices, well, they tend to go very wrong. I wasn't close with Feemor myself, but we do occasionally speak and have tea once every few years when we're both on-site, have a spare moment, and think to do so. He trained a padawan himself to Knighthood, but hasn't taken another since to my knowledge."
He hesitates. "...I could introduce you two sometime? Perhaps invite you to our next tea?"
"I would appreciate meeting my brother-padawan," agreed Obi-Wan mildly, "But right now I want to either scream at Qui-Gon on his behalf, or go check on Anakin."
"Oh by all means," said Dooku, motioning back to the door, "I can keep an eye on Young Skywalker..."
He hesitates. "As I feel at least somewhat responsible that I did not press more."
"It goes both ways," said Obi-Wan softly, "He didn't trust in us with the full extent of it either."
Dooku sighed and walked off.
Obi-Wan walked in and dismissed Jinzler, "Padawan, get yourself checked by a healer then you have the rest of the day to rest that Force Scream off. No strenuous activity, and no active use of the Force for the time being."
"Yes Master," she said and walked out.
He crosses his arms and waits until Master Che is done with Qui-Gon and leaves the brooding man.
"Qui-Gon," he said slowly, "Why did you never speak of Feemor with me?"
The man blinks at him slowly. "Feemor?"
He blinks rapidly and rises to his feet. "Feemor, yes, he was a good boy. He didn't deserve what I did to him, he could help Anakin, he could take over his mastership, surely he'd be willing."
Obi-Wan startles. "Excuse me?"
Qui-Gon brushes past him and leaves the room.
"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan exclaims, but the man is already gone, his giant strides carrying him down the hallway.
Obi-Wan groans and lets his head thud against the nearest wall, muttering, "My master is a walking disaster."
He takes in a deep breath and starts after him. As much as he loves his lineage, sometimes Obi-Wan truly wishes he had a calmer, quieter one. He follows Qui-Gon's presence, and gets a firsthand meeting with his brother padawan screaming in Qui-Gon's face. He is tall for a human, but not quite as giant as Qui-Gon himself. He had fair skin, shortly trimmed blond hair, blue eyes that he could imagine might usually be calm if they weren't a storm now. He bore the standard Jedi Robes, and had a single lightsaber at his belt.
"...and the first thing you say to me in years is a demand that I take on your padawan?!" roars Feemor, "Qui-Gon are you out of your mind?"
"I'm sorry Feemor," said Qui-Gon hoarsely, "I did upon you a cruelty you didn't deserve, I recognize that, but... Anakin hates me now, I saw it, I felt it. I don't... I don't think he will want me as his master anymore. He shouldn't be forced to have me."
Feemor grits his teeth. "How about you ask him first before you dump him on another Jedi? I can guess he is angry and upset over whatever the hell that screaming was, but suddenly tossing him away is not going to help. I know from experience. Give him a chance to calm down and..."
"My doubts and inaction got his mother killed."
Feemor slow blink and closed his eyes tightly. "Force dammit Qui-Gon."
He opens his eyes and glares. "Why not ask someone else? I don't even know him, why not Yan?"
"I think we both know few do well under Dooku."
Feemor looks to the ceiling, to the skies, for patience. "IF Skywalker agrees, and IF the Council agrees, I will temporarily take the boy on if he needs space from you for awhile. It will be revisited if he wants to go back at a later time."
"Thank you.'
"Go, I really... really don't want to speak to you right now," snapped Feemor.
Qui-Gon bows and turns to go, pausing when he sights Obi-Wan. "Padawan."
"Master," said Obi-Wan in a flat tone, radiating disapproval.
Qui-Gon's shoulders hunch. "I'll... be in my apartment."
Wallowing in grief and regret most likely.
Obi-Wan lets him go, he'll try to find the forgiveness, motivation, and patience to help his old master out of his misery later. For now...
"Its... good to meet you, Feemor," said Obi-Wan cautiously.
"Is it?" returned his brother-padawan mildly.
"In my defense, I didn't know you existed before today," said Obi-Wan quietly, "I'm not sure if I'd even heard your name before, maybe once, and not from Qui-Gon."
Feemor exhales in frustration. "I'm not surprised."
He shakes his head and motions inside. "Would you like tea? I imagine we have much to talk about that we both missed, and I could use your advice and observations if I'm really going to go through with Qui-Gon Jinn's latest idiocracy."
"Certainly," agrees Obi-Wan, and steps inside...
Siri slams her face into the cockpit controls, hissing in pain as a wave of anguish in the Force hits her. It only takes a second to recognize the scream as Anakin's.
No.
No no no.
That wasn't fair!
She was supposed to have been able to stop it!
DAMMIT!
Siri grits her teeth at Anakin's anguish, staring out into hyperspace with grim intensity. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you're dead for killing his mother."
Her fury boils and then cools into cold malice. She does not sleep during the trip, she waits. When she finally touches down in Mos Espa, she prowls out, and begins her hunt for Watto the Toydarian. Those she asks cower at her malice bleeding out in the Force and don't hesitate to point her along. When she finds him, she's disgusted. This is the bastard that owned Supernova? She approaches, grabs his scrawny little neck, and slams him into the stone wall of the building behind his stall.
"Shmi Skywalker," she hisses, "Where is she."
No one is stupid enough to get involved, quietly going about their business.
The Toydarian gasps out. "W-what is with e-everyone and a-asking about her these days, eh?"
She lightens her grip. "Someone came asking about her recently?"
"Y-yeah, was a J-jedi!" he exclaimed, "All business like, w-wanted to f-free her on behalf of little Ani, but I don't own her anymore!"
Siri narrows her eyes. "Are you sure it was a Jedi?"
"Y-yeah, had the cloaks and the lightsaber and acted all holier than the rest of us," he stammered.
"Are there camera's around here?" she asked mildly, "Because I felt Anakin's anguish over his mother's death not to long ago, so I'm pretty sure the one you gave her location to wasn't a Jedi."
Watto beats his wings in alarm. "W-ha? No no no that ain't my fault! How was I supposed to know?"
"Are. There. Cameras?" she snapped again.
"T-the Hutts have a few plastered around," exclaimed Watto.
"Who would I need to talk to to get access to them?" demanded Siri.
Siri's first meeting with Jabba the Hutt was one she'd rather not have had. Watto doesn't seem happy to have been dragged here either, but she's not letting him out of her sight until she's done with him.
"Hoo hoo hoo," booms the ugly slug, his droid translating the next part, "You wish access to my planet's security? What do you have to bargain for it, little Sith?"
She smiled thinly. "If you know who I am, then you know that denying me is not wise."
"Neither is crossing me in my own court," warns the translator droid to Jabba's angry reply, "Surrounded by all of my men. Including those who will warn others that you are not supposed to be where you are, Sith. I have kept attention on anything related to your order on the holonet. I know you should still be in the Jedi Temple for another few years."
Siri grits her teeth at the threat. She's not concerned about killing everyone in this room, but one of them potentially escaping and conveying to the public, especially the courts, that she had left the temple and had made an attempted dealing with the Hutts wouldn't look good. She considers how to get what she wants...
"A favor," she offers, "I will grant you a favor."
"Ahhhhh," rumbles out Jabba, motioning to his droid, "What kind of favor? And how do I know you will simply not disappear and refuse to deliver?"
"Because if you have a spare comlink, I can deliver on it now," said Siri.
Jabba allows it, one of his mercenaries offering a transmitter. She dials a number she knows by heart and waits.
Siri smiles when Alexi Garyn picks up and his ridiculously handsome mug shows up. "I don't know who this is or how you have my personal com-number..."
"Alexi darling!" Siri exclaims, "Its been ages!"
There is silence for a few moment before he squints through the image. "Iris, its been awhile indeed. I was expecting a call at some point, though this is later than I thought it would be. Do you need a place to lie low?"
"Lex, I'm in love with that fact that you're still looking out for me," she answers, "But no. I'm going to be riding out the parole, well, if this unscheduled outing doesn't blow up in my face anyway."
"Unscheduled outing," mused Alexi, "What do you need?"
Siri grimaced. "I need information from the Jabba the Hutt on something important to me. I was hoping you could help me with that, I've offered a favor."
Alexi hums. "The Black Sun and the Hutt cartel do business on occasion, is he there?"
"Yes."
"Oh, throne room audience?"
"Yep."
"If I imagine where you are, for my peace of mind, please step off the grating," said Alexi, "I'd rather you not be rancor food if this doesn't work out."
Siri glances down and takes a few steps back, earning roaring laughter from Jabba and the crowd. His translator droid speaks up as he does. "Alexi Garyn, Underlord of the Black Sun. You have great ties indeed, Sith. Very well, I will humor this offering..."
After getting a time from Watto, Siri clicks through recordings, a Hutt merc watching behind her as she does. It takes her awhile to find the right camera, and sure enough, there is a humanoid being in close to Jedi robes speaking to Watto. The recording isn't very good, but she can see a cylinder that looks kind of like a lightsaber. The thought that a Jedi would readily carry a lightsaber out in the open on Tatooine though...
She follows the Jedi on various cameras until they step inside an alleyway...
And their face melts away to an ugly form before changing to more human look, their clothes changing with them. "A Clawdite, a changeling. Well well well..."
She freezes the image and motions to the merc. "This shit is ancient, how do I take a picture of this and send it to my datapad?"
The merc rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath before doing so for her.
"Don't suppose you recognize them?"
The merc shrugs. "One clawdite is the same as another to me, but there are a few that his excellency occasionally hires. You could ask him, or try asking around as well."
Siri nods and leaves the security room, returning to the audience chamber. Jabba is busy discussing something with a guest, so she pokes around the crowd. Showing the picture around.
"...and what does a dar'jetti want with this clawdite?" posed a Mandalorian bounty hunter.
Siri bares her teeth. "To kill it for harming what is mine."
The bounty hunter huffs. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be smart to get between a dar'jetti and their prey for no reason. I can't say it was nice knowing her, she's backstabbed me once and was lucky to walk away alive. I'm fairly certain that is Zam Wesell. Do tell her Jango gave her his regards before you kill her."
"Will do," she said before pausing, "Jango, as in Jango Fett?"
He goes still. "Heard about me have you?"
She'd heard all about Galidraan and that colossal kriff up. "Loosely, my once-master mentioned a stupid move by the Jedi once upon a time that involved you and yours."
She can sense him baring his teeth and glaring at her. "Get lost."
Siri really can't help herself. "My my my how the mighty have fallen. From Mandalore to a Bounty Hunter slumming it out with Jabba the Hutt."
His hands rest on his blasters. "Do not test my patience dar'jetti."
"Its an honest question, and a potential warning."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No," she said, "But my old Master did keep an ear out for you. Someone who could unite the Mandalorians under one banner could be an tool to use, or a threat to eliminate. Its an offering to be careful."
There is an odd sense of dark amusement from him. "I will be. As for your question, it never hurts to keep an ear open, you'd be surprised what you hear in places like this."
She narrows her eyes at him. She gets a sense of him knowing something and mocking her, but she doesn't press. Not here anyway, and not now. She takes her leave and walks with Watto flying beside her. "Now... where was Shmi Skywalker located?"
"Damn, mighta been a slave most her life, but she was a good woman, shame" muttered Watto, flying around the burned down moisture farm.
Siri stares down at what she assumes is Shmi Skywalker's melted skeletal corpse. The Force burns with sorrow and lost opportunity. There are flickers in her mind, of herself and this woman sitting and talking at a table, but the shaky vision melts away much like the woman's flesh had, leaving ash in its wake. She had already known she had failed before she began when she had felt Anakin's anguish. She slowly shakes her head and begins looking around, trying to see if there are any further clues.
She doesn't want to even begin to think of the ramifications this is going to have with Anakin.
Her search ultimately comes up fruitless on the farmstead. At least, in relation to the murder. She sits on the rented speeder, playing a partial burned holo-journal she found, Shmi Skywalker's journal:
...you might enjoy something to remember Watto by, so I left that as entry one. He's not so bad, as masters go, and I do believe there are times when he truly misses your mischief.
Ani, this diary is for you. I know you'll be gone a long time, and that you'll be very lonely at times. So will I. This diary is so that when you come home someday, you'll know you were always in my heart...
Siri clicks it off, lips pursed tightly. This isn't for her. It won't give her a lead on Wesell, well, the last few entries if the elder Skywalker noticed anything wrong might, but the Force nudges her against it. This is for Anakin, and she will not tread upon it. This... might be something that helps him recover. Or pushes him further in. She doesn't know, and the Force offers no further advice. She pockets it before levitating Shmi's corpse and a few others they found. She buries them in the sand, and makes turns on the speeder.
"You think anyone would mind if I scrounge a few parts from here, eh?" comes Watto's voice.
Siri turns her cold eyes to Watto, reaches out with the Force, and snaps his filthy little neck. She turns on her speeder and flies away, leaving the dead slaver and the burnt down farm behind...
Siri had not been able to locate Wesell on Tatooine, and she knows she has to return to Coruscant sooner rather than later, so return she does, brooding the whole way back. There is only a single Jedi waiting for her when she lands in the Temple hanger. Obi-Wan. She gets out of the ship and dusts herself off. The first thing she's doing when the Jedi are done screaming at her and she's given Skywalker the journal, is shower. For hours. Kriff sand.
Obi-Wan glances down at a bit of sand around her. "So you did go to Tatooine."
Siri raised a single eyebrow. "You know that, how?"
"I think the Council might have already questioned him and knew, but, Anakin was screaming that you promised to find and keep his mother safe," said Obi-Wan softly.
"Bit difficult when she was dead before I got there," said Siri sourly before sighing, "How is he?"
"He pinned Qui-Gon to a wall and nearly choked him to death with the Force in his grief," he said uneasily.
Siri closed her eyes, grimacing. She can't say she's surprised. If Skywalker had Zam Wesell in his grasp, Siri doubted the bounty hunter would be alive at the moment. Considering Jinn's negligence... he's lucky to be alive.
"Siri, what you did was well intentioned, but you broke your word again, your legal word," said Obi-Wan, "To remain..."
"Kriff off Kenobi," she snarled, opening her eyes, "There are far more important things that need to happen now."
"Siri," said Obi-Wan sharply, "The Council demanded your presence the moment you returned..."
"Kriff the council," she spat, "I need to see Anakin."
He frowned. "Why?"
"I could feel the pain and suffering coming off him from across the damn galaxy, Obi-Wan," she said, "I... found something I hope can help with that."
Obi-Wan nods slowly. "Very well. He's in the Halls of Healing, he had a Force Bond with his mother. The damage wasn't pleasent. It could have healed over time, but not well without treatment. Of course, getting him to allow them to seal the bond has been an exercise in patience."
"Its all he has left of her," she comments mildly, "As I said, I found something of hers that might help."
He sighed. "Very well, lets be quick, the Council is not happy with you."
"I'm not happy with them either."
"They did not know," he rebutted.
"Anakin has been pissy for weeks, is it that hard for someone to care enough to ask?" she posed, "Rather than just assume and leave it to your Master?"
Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not particularly impressed with Qui-Gon as of late either, not after meeting Feemor."
"Who?"
"Qui-Gon's first apprentice that he apparently repudiated in all but knighthood after Xanatos fell in a self-induced pity party."
Siri actually stops walking and stares at Kenobi. "Wow. Your Master is a disaster."
"I'm aware," he said dryly.
Siri shakes her head and walks with him to the Halls of Healing. They walk into a room, finding Anakin alone and sitting on a bed, legs drawn up to his chest, utterly miserable. He takes one look at her and glares, his shields are raised high, but she doesn't need to Force to see the accusation and betrayal in his eyes. "Siri."
"Don't even start Supernova, I was still in transit," she snapped, though she is perhaps at fault for not doing something earlier, but the excuse Obi-Wan had for the Council also applies to her. She hadn't known in time."
He grits his teeth and looks away.
She sighs and withdraws the holo-journal. "I found this, I only listened to the first part of the first entry where your mother labeled this as for you, but no further."
Anakin's head snaps towards her near instantly, eyes going wide at the sight of it. His voice cracks. "Its... its mom's?"
"It is," Siri agreed, walking forward to the bed.
She leaned forward to whisper into his ear as she handed him the journal and whispers, "I investigated and found out that she was killed by a clawdite bounty hunter named Zam Wesell, changlings who can change their shape, I don't know who hired them."
Anakin clenches the journal tightly, the anger and hatred burning deeply in his eyes barely contained by his shields. He meets her gaze as she pulls back, and nods at her. The accusation and betrayal is gone, replaced by grim acceptance. She might not have saved his mother, but she did bring him the promise of vengeance. Wesell will die one day, and it will be by Skywalker's hands.
She can feel it.