Vader. He is now Vader. His new master gave him that name. A sith name.
He will cherish it.
As Vader walks through the temple, the dark side of the force spreading through the air like a thick poison, he scans for any signs of life. Any signs that he might've missed a Jedi. His master had made it very clear there would be no one left. Vader doesn't plan to disappoint him.
There is movement from the side hall, but the sentient is shot down before he can even lift a finger. His soldiers are well trained. Every clone was guaranteed that when the war started and after fighting alongside them for all that time, he's come to accept it as a basic fact. The clones are effective, more so than even the Jedi armies.
Oh, the Jedi. He should've known better, but he really can't blame himself, can he? He was deceived by them. Manipulated by them. They tried to take away his mother, even as he woke up in tears and sweating through his robes night after night. They made him fight a war on the wrong side and tried to make him forget his wife. But now, he can see clearly. He feels the dark and it leads him to the truth.
He really is The Chosen One, with the power he has.
The power he can only gain as he learns more from Palpatine. No, Darth Sidious.
Vader cuts off from the troops as he searches the lower levels of the temple. The clones may be programmed to be perfect soldiers, but they don't know the hiding places of this building. Anakin -a version of himself he promised to forget, simply because he would never accept that weakness again- tended to hide in these very rooms. He would spend hours here, skipping classes he knew were only wasting his time and potential.
Why should The Chosen One need to learn about the political history of Coruscant? Why does he need to know how to write a perfect essay? Why stick him in the beginner's piloting class when he won a podrace -something even Jedi Masters could ever hope to accomplish. It was to hold him back. All of it was to make sure he never saw the truth of the force.
Now, they will pay for their lies.
He steps into a youngling training room, the dark side seeping into every crevice of the area. It's ironic, how easily he can corrupt a Jedi temple, somewhere thought to be so sacred and pure.
Before he can so much as reach into the force, several younglings come out from hiding, their faces grave with fear and their bodies shaking. They don't get too close, but they all look at him with such relief it's almost sad. If he could feel such a thing anymore.
"Master Skywalker!" One boy walks up to him. "There's too many of them! What are we going to do?!" His voice is so hopeful, so trusting. It gives Vader pause for a moment, just long enough for something new to take over his mind.
Dread.
Surely, his master doesn't mean the younglings as well, right? He said all Jedi. Padawans and younglings aren't Jedi and shouldn't be a threat to the new empire. But even as he thinks it, he knows what his master meant. What he has to do.
Vader ignites his lightsaber, letting the dark take over again, giving him the strength he needs to finish this mission. But just as he steps forward, the hope draining from that boy's face, a voice calls to him. It's soft but sure. He gasps aloud at the words whispered to him.
"They don't deserve this, Ani." Despite the years since he last saw her, his mother's voice is still so familiar. "They did nothing wrong."
His breaths come out rough. The darkness that once felt so good is now overwhelming, too much to handle. He stared back at that boy, unable to move. He knows what he must do, there's no other option than to obey his master, but...but his mother! She spoke to him! Whether by a memory or through the force, he doesn't know, but her words are now all he can process and he...
He swings his lightsaber, the end crossing an inch away from the boy's face. He falls from the shock and Anakin makes the same motion towards the rest. They scream, trying to run, but he pins them to the floor with the force, keeping them in place. Then, as the first boy begins to move again, trying to run away, he turns around and stabs into the ground centimeters away from his neck. Vader's low enough to the ground now that he can whisper to him without the cameras picking it up.
"Stay down!" He hisses, meeting the boy's wide eyes. "Play dead until someone returns to save you. Do not move until then." And with that, he stands, looking over the others with a mask of anger. They all stay still, almost too much so. But he can feel their life in the force, can sense them sending their hope his way and he leaves again before the clones can wonder where he went off to.
He'll go straight to Mustafar to destroy the Separatists and end this war.
No. Padme first. She will always be first. He needs to get her to safety.
Jabba's palace may just be the worst possible place in the entire galaxy. It's far enough away from any other civilization to make getting their a half day's journey -with just his speeder, at least. And once he's inside, the air itself seems to reak of slime and filth.
Anakin walks down the dim halls as he carefully avoids looking at anything but his protocol droid escort. Music and laughter fill the entire palace at all times, tens of slaves always being forced to serve, dance, and pleasure anyone who so desires it. It never fails to make his anger spike, but after so many trips to and from Jabba's shithole, he's become accustomed to hiding it.
He quickly finds himself standing in front of Jabba himself, the dark clothes and vocoder mask covering every inch of him aside from a slit for his eyes. At first, he had thought to use his old podracing goggles -something he was very surprised to find in his mother's old belongings- but they were too tight and would irritate the scars to the point of bleeding. So, he improvised.
"Acits!" Jabba's voice is deep but slightly slurred, as it usually is. Other bounty hunters fill the room, all of them laughing and drinking as if this is some kind of public cantina. "Where is my money?!"
The protocol droid translates Jabba's Huttese into Basic, not because Anakin needs it, but because the bounty hunter, Actis, does. A name Anakin picked out based on the model of his old starfighter, an Eta-2 Actis-Class Intercepter.
He still misses that ship, forever rest her soul.
"You won't be surprised to learn he didn't have the credits." Jabba sneers at him, but the anger is directed toward Zir. Hopefully. "He made up some excuse about imperial airway fees. All a bunch of bantha if you ask me."
Jabba doesn't seem to enjoy his opinions as much today. The slug hammers his fist down on his plate, sending some kind of boiled rodent flying across the room without care. No one stops to question it. "Kubaz Sleemo! He promised me that money!" There's a moment where Jabba just growls, his wide, ugly mouth turning downward. Then, the slug looks up again. "Where is he, then? Why didn't you bring him here? I could've added him to my collection!"
Ah, yes. The collection of carbonfrozen debtors hanging along the far wall. Anakin's taken notice to them and he does see that there's another today. No one he recognizes, but someone he might've worked with. Kriff.
"Because he offed himself before I could get him into cuffs." Anakin hisses with false anger. Or maybe it's just redirected anger. He's not sure anymore. "I didn't have time to retrieve his head either. Bespin has high security and I'd rather leave you with bad news than no news at all." He knows Jabba won't enjoy that particular comment, but it's nothing new to him. No matter what, bounty hunters must put themselves first, even at the risk of failure.
Jabba huffs in an angry tantrum once again, but no real punishment comes Anakin's way. Though, that's not entirely true. The real punishment is losing a portion of the Hutt's trust. He'll need to take on another mission if he hopes to regain that.
With a bow, Anakin gives Jabba the perfect look of a faithful servant. "Let me make up for this. I won't fail you a second time."
This seems to catch Jabba's attention. Good. "What do you have in mind, Actis?" Again, he waits until the droid is done translating to look up.
"I'll find that slave you lost a few months ago. The one that removed her own trackers without your notice?" The slug growls again, but Anakin knows he's already won this over. "I'll retrieve her back to your hands. No one escapes the Hutts."
"Bring her back and I'll double your pay." Jabba promises as Anakin stands. With a wave of a hand, the protocol droid sends a file of information to Anakin's datacard, giving him all he'll need to finish the job. "Return my property to me, Actis."
With one final nod, Anakin leaves the room, ideas already forming in his mind: where to start looking for Elem Jifo, how to convince her of his idea to overthrow the Hutts, as well as convincing her to return as a spy in the palace. He knows it won't be easy, even if she hates the Hutts as much as he does. There's not much he can do to convince someone to willingly return to slavery.
He knows he would never return. Not without better protection than he can offer Elem.
As Anakin climbs onto his speeder, he decides to take a detour to Mos Eisley for more information. The suns are still high and he should get started on this quickly. Jabba has never been known for his patience.
Anakin takes up a booth further in the back of the cantina, his hood pulled even further to cover his face. This place isn't like Jabba's Palace, which only allows a few certain people to enter. This catina is very public and anyone from anywhere could be having a drink and a game of cards. The music is better, though, simply because slaves aren't being forced to perform. And it has a good enough beat to it.
He looks through the crowds around him until a familiar green Rodian catches his eye. He gets up immediately and sits at the new table, not caring about the complaint Greedo gives him. They aren't friends -not after the relentless teasing he got as a child- but Greedo's smart and experienced. He might be able to help. Or be persuaded at the very least.
"Elem." Anakin says before Greedo can continue to curse him out in Huttese. He still refuses to use anything but basic, which makes for a few seconds of confusion while Greedo struggles to gather his limited knowledge of the language.
"The..." Greedo makes a motion towards his head Anakin realizes he's miming lekku. After a confirming nod, Greedo shrugs. "Not my problem."
Anakin doesn't give up. "What about smugglers? You know any with a grudge against Jabba?" Greedo doesn't seem to catch half of what he says and Anakin sighs. This would've been so much easier in Huttese. "Smugglers? Uh...Cad Bane? Bossk? Hondo Ohnaka? Fett?" They're all mostly bounty hunters but the jobs tend to overlap. He hopes Greedo gets the picture.
The Rodian nods in understanding, making Anakin sigh in relief, but his eyes are still closed off, refusing information. "Don't know."
"Bantha poodoo!" He would say more, possibly go on a rant about how Greedo's worked with half of those names and would definitely know a smuggler who doesn't like Jabba...but there's no way to say that with their language barrier. So, Anakin decides this topic has exhausted itself for the time being and moves on to something more important. "Fine. How about paint?" He makes a painting motion on the table and Greedo looks lost, but not because of vocabulary this time.
"Paint?" Greedo echos the word, sitting forwards slightly. "Why?"
"That's my business." Anakin snaps. "Where do I find it?"
There's a very long pause and Anakin almost goes back to demanding again, but Greedo picks up a playing card and starts writing something on it. Then, he hands it over to Anakin as he heads out of the cantina. Anakin lets him go as he looks over the scribbled writing. It's in Huttese -Greedo probably wanted him to go scrambling for a translater as some kind of revenge for wasting his time- and it says Bakura. Nothing else.
Anakin's not very familiar with the planet, mostly because Jabba has no business there. It's outside of Hutt Space and therefore, not where he'll be doing the majority of his business. But it's a start.
Whether this is a lead for Elem or the paint, Anakin's not sure. But he'll check with someone else about the paint too, just to make sure he doesn't disappoint Luke.
Getting up, Anakin pockets the card and heads out of the cantina himself, more than ready to clean out his prosthetics and settle down for the rest of the day. Beru did ask him to double-check their vaporator in case they missed anything and it's the least he can do for them. They've protected Luke, kept him fed, and loved. He will forever be in their debt.
The force wavers and Anakin stops, halfway down the street. He looks around slowly, trying to find a cause without reaching into the force himself. And he finds it in a public stable slot. Anakin turns into another shop but watches out the window as Kenobi stands in front of his eopie, feeding something to the creature before gathering its lead and heading out.
Kenobi doesn't look very different, all things considered. Given, compared to Anakin's own changes, longer hair and an overgrown beard is nothing. But he does notice the lack of a force presence. Kenobi's shields have always been masterful. He's completely blocked himself in the force and if Anakin hadn't been looking, he might not have noticed him at all.
But then why did the force waver?
Kenobi climbs onto his eopie's back and leaves the city. Anakin watches him until he's out of sight, and waits a minute longer to he leaves the shop. A familiar anger threatens to fill him, to remind him of burning skin and an agonized voice that claimed of love. Love that no longer exists.
The Obi-Wan who trained him to become a Jedi, that taught him how to use the power humming under his fingertips, is gone. Anakin can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, when the one person he wanted to make proud became his greatest insecurity, but he can only guess it was near the start of the wars.
That, or maybe it's another thing Sidious ruined for him, just like he ruined everything Anakin ever hoped to become through false friendship and teachings.
Paint. Anakin needs to find out if there's paint on Bakura and until he gets a comm from Owen to ensure Kenobi won't see him on his way home, he might as well focus on that. Pushing the past behind him -though, he knows it will return to haunt him as soon as he falls asleep- Anakin walks up to a dye vendor, hoping he can get answers before the suns set.
Is it obvious I love the new Obi-Wan series yet? Because I do. Also, I wish this website had a better way to interact with reviews, because opening a dm with everyone just to thank them for their ideas and kind words feels a little too much. Just know that I appreciate it!