Episode 3 Chapter 3

The Masters of their Domain

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a bit of the plot. Star Wars and its affiliated characters are owned by George Lucas and Lucas Arts. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Certain scenes were taken from 'Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, the novelization by Matthew Stover.

"Once more, Aanja. Only this time, don't drop your left elbow. Keep it up - good!" Buffy nodded appreciatively at the young Padawan as she managed to deflect the small stinging bolt from the remote. "See how that worked? Keep the elbow up and you shouldn't have any more problems. Okay?"

"Yes, Master," Aanja replied, bowing slightly in respect. Buffy smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, please don't call me 'Master'. It makes me feel old."

"Now you know how I feel, Elizabeth," Halcyon greeted as he came into the training room. Buffy chuckled and with a dismissive nod to Aanja she turned to greet her fellow Master.

"You know, I had my doubts about this whole promotion deal. But I got to say, on the up side? The Padawans actually listen to me now. Zett actually took my advice on adjusting his lightsaber form - the same advice I'd been giving him for years!"

Halcyon chuckled. "Yes, the Padawans actually do listen to Masters more than Knights. Of course, now the Knights will ignore you… of course, you'd know all about that…"

Buffy smiled impishly. "I do seem to recall…"

The two Masters chuckled and then turned their attention back on to the Padawans. After a few moments, Nejaa spoke. "So, how are you holding up, Elizabeth?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," she replied after a few moments. "It may sound weird, but even though I miss my family, I know I'll see them again some day. That knowledge makes it easier."

"A wise opinion, Master Skywalker."

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to look at the approaching Obi-Wan. "Don't call me Master."

"It's your title."

"I'll take the pay raise, but you keep the title." Obi-Wan chuckled at her antics, and Buffy couldn't help but let out a small grin. "So, have you seen my wayward brother yet? I was looking forward to rubbing my promotion in his face at the briefing today…"

"Ah, yes. The model Jedi," Nejaa quipped, earning a slap on his arm from Buffy. He grimaced and rubbed the spot, trying to restore circulation. "Sithspawn, Buffy. That was your bionic arm."

"Oh, grow up. You know my real arm is just as bad," Buffy joked before turning back to Obi-Wan. "So, where is he?" At the hesitation on the Jedi's face, Buffy's look darkened. "Benny…"

Obi-Wan glanced at Nejaa, who took his cue to leave. "Why don't I watch over the Younglings, while you two chat?" he asked, moving towards the dueling Padawans. Obi-Wan gently took her real arm and guided her out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. "Anakin's been sent on… a bit of an errand."

"Funny - I don't recall the Council sending anybody on any errands today," Buffy said dangerously. Obi-Wan gulped - he knew that tone.

"Well, you see—"

"Ben, cut to the chase, or so help me…"

"The Chancellor sent for him..."

There was a pause. Obi-Wan watched her carefully neutral face before he noticed the cords in her neck tighten. Her eyes brightened suspiciously. And then as expected Buffy exploded. "Huh choo-shung tza-jiao duh tzang-huo! How could you let him go?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Buffy, one does not just refuse a summons from the supreme Chancellor-"

"I have!" Buffy responded hotly.

"And notice you haven't been invited back."

"The man's evil!"

"We don't know that for sure." At Buffy's look, Obi-Wan continued. "I told Anakin to be wary, Buffy."

"He shouldn't be seeing him at all!" Buffy pressed. "He always listened to me on this before I left. I leave a few years, I come back, and all of the sudden he's getting buddy-buddy with the bastard again!"

Obi-Wan looked on Buffy with concern. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Palpatine is evil! He's going to be the death of us all, mark my words! And don't talk to me about proof - I'm a Slayer. It's my job to know whose evil-"

"Buffy, stop stalling and answer my question," Obi-Wan interrupted. Then in a gentler tone, he added, "Elizabeth, what's troubling you?"

Buffy took a shuddering breath as she observed the cityscape before her. "I've lost two families, Benny," she finally said after a few minutes. Her voice was so small and forlorn. "Shmi and Ani are the only family I have left. If I were to lose them… I don't know what I'd do." She looked at Obi-Wan with watery eyes. "I can't lose him too, Ben. Not after Jacen and the kids. Not after Willow…" Buffy took a calming breath and turned from Obi-Wan to face the city."I don't trust Palpatine, Ben. You mark my words - that man will be the death of us."

Anakin stood in the Chancellor's office looking out at the ruined city. Large swatches of buildings were still burning even hours after the battle had ended. Even as he looked out at the city though he couldn't help but dwell on Obi-Wan's warning - Be wary of Palpatine. It was absurd, of course. Palpatine was his friend and had been his friend since he had first arrived on this planet. Even though Buffy didn't fully trust the man, Anakin's faith in his leadership had never wavered.

"Do you see, Anakin?" Palpatine's voice was soft, hoarse with emotion. "Do you see what they have done to our magnifi­cent city? This war must end! We cannot allow such... such..."

His voice trailed away and he shook his head. Gently, Anakin laid a reassuring hand on Palpatine's shoulder. "You know you have my best efforts and those of every Jedi," he said.

Palpatine nodded, lowering his head. "I know I have yours, Anakin. The rest of the Jedi..." He sighed, looking even more exhausted than he had yesterday.

"I have asked you here," he said slowly, "because I need your help on a matter of extreme delicacy. I hope I can depend upon your discretion, Anakin."

Be wary of Palpatine Anakin heard Obi-Wan's voice tell him. "As a Jedi, there are... limits... to my discretion, Chan­cellor."

"Oh, of course. Don't worry, my boy." A flash of his familiar fatherly smile forced its way into his eyes. "Anakin, in all the years we have been friends, have I ever asked you to do anything even the slightest bit against your conscience?"

"Well—"

"And I never will. I am very proud of your accomplishments as a Jedi, Anakin. You have won many battles the Jedi Council in­sisted to me were already lost—and you saved my life. It's frankly appalling that they still keep you off the Council yourself. Especially now that your sister has been appointed to it."

"My time will come... when I am older. And, I suppose, wiser." He didn't want to get into this with Palpatine; talking with the Chancellor like this—seriously, man-to-man—made him feel good, feel strong, despite Obi-Wan's warning. He cer­tainly didn't want to start whining about being passed over for Mastery like some preadolescent Padawan, especially since his sister had been given the honor instead of him. That even after everything she had done against the Jedi, they not only had let her back in, but promoted her of all things…

"Nonsense. Age is no measure of wisdom. They keep you off the Council because it is the last hold they have on you, Anakin; it is how they control you. Once you're a Master, as you deserve, low will they make you do their bidding?"

"Well..." Anakin gave him a half-sheepish smile. "They can't exactly make me, even now."

"I know, my boy. I know. That is precisely the point. You are not like them. You are younger. Stronger. Better. If they cannot control you now, what will happen once you are a Master in your own right? How will they keep your toes on their political line? You may become more powerful than all of them together. That is why they keep you down. They fear your power. They fear you."

Anakin looked down. This had struck a little close to the bone. "I have sensed... something like that."

"I have asked you here today, Anakin, because I have fears of my own." He turned, waiting, until Anakin met his eye and on Palpatine's face was something approaching bleak despair. "I am coming to fear the Jedi themselves."

"Oh, Chancellor—" Anakin broke into a smile of disbelief. "There is no one more loyal than the Jedi, sir—surely, after all this time—"

But Palpatine had already turned away. He lowered himself into the chair behind his desk and kept his head down as though he was ashamed to say this directly to Anakin's face. "The Coun­cil keeps pushing for more control. More autonomy. They have lost all respect for the rule of law. They have become more con­cerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than with win­ning the war."

"With respect, sir, many on the Council would say the same of you." He thought of Obi-Wan and Buffy and he had to stop himself from wincing. Had he betrayed a confidence just now? Or had Obi-Wan been doing the Council's bidding after all?... Be wary of Palpatine, he'd said, and be careful of your feelings...Were these honest warnings, out of concern for him? Or had they been calculated: seeds of doubt planted to hedge Anakin away from the one man who really understood him?

The one man he could really trust...

"Oh, I have no doubt of it," Palpatine was saying. "Many of the Jedi on your Council would prefer I was out of office altogether—because they know I'm on to them, now. They're shrouded in secrecy, obsessed with covert action against mysteri­ously faceless enemies—"

"Well, the Sith are hardly faceless, are they? I mean, Dooku himself—"

"Was he truly a Lord of the Sith? Or was he just another in your string of fallen Jedi, posturing with a red lightsaber to in­timidate you?"

"I..." Anakin frowned. He was sure Dooku was a Sith. Wasn't he? "But Sidious..."

"Ah, yes, the mysterious Lord Sidious. The Sith infiltrator in the highest levels of government. Doesn't that sound a little overly familiar to you, Anakin? A little overly convenient? How do you know this Sidious even exists? How do you know he is not a fiction, an illusion created by the Jedi Council, to give them an excuse to harass their political enemies?"

"The Jedi are not political—"

"In a democracy, everything is political, Anakin. And every­one. This imaginary Sith Lord of theirs—even if he does exist, is he anyone to be feared? To be hunted down and exterminated without trial?"

"The Sith are the definition of evil—"

"Or so you have been trained to believe. I have been read­ing about the history of the Sith for some years now, Anakin. Ever since the Council saw fit to finally reveal to me their... assertion... that these millennium-dead sorcerers had suppos­edly sprung back to life. Not every tale about them is sequestered in your conveniently secret Temple archives. From what I have read, they were not so different from Jedi; seeking power, to be sure, but so does your Council."

"The dark side—"

"Oh, yes, yes, certainly, the dark side. Listen to me: if this 'Darth Sidious' of yours were to walk through that door right now—and I could somehow stop you from killing him on the spot—do you know what I would do?" Palpatine rose, and his voice rose with him. "I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if he has any power he could use to end this war!"

"You would—you would—" Anakin couldn't quite make himself believe what he was hearing. He knew how evil the Dark Side was. Surely the Chancellor, his friend, wouldn't consort with the type of person who would use that power…

"And if he said he did, I'd bloody well offer him a brandy and talk it out!"

"You—Chancellor, you can't be serious—"

"Well, not entirely," Palpatine sighed and shrugged, lowering himself once more into his chair. "It's only an example, Anakin. I would do anything to return peace to the galaxy, do you understand? That's all I mean. After all—" He offered a tired, sadly ironic smile, "what are the chances of an actual Sith Lord ever walking through that door?"

"I wouldn't know," Anakin said feelingly, "but I do know that you probably shouldn't use that... example... in front of the Jedi Council."

"Oh, yes," Palpatine chuckled. "Yes, quite right. They might take it as an excuse to accuse me."

"I'm sure they'd never do that—"

"I am not. I am no longer sure they'll stop at anything, Anakin. That's actually the reason I asked you here today." He leaned forward intently, resting his elbows on the desk. "You may have heard that this afternoon, the Senate will call upon this office to assume direct control of the Jedi Council."

Anakin's frown deepened. "The Jedi will no longer report to the Senate?"

"They will report to me. Personally. The Senate is too unfo­cused to conduct this war; we've seen this for years. Now that this office will be the single authority to direct the prosecution of the war, we'll bring a quick end to things."

Anakin nodded. "I can see how that will help, sir, but the Council probably won't. I can tell you that they are in no mood for further constitutional amendments."

"Yes, thank you, my friend. But in this case, I have no choice. This war must be won."

"Everyone agrees on that."

"I hope they do, my boy. I hope they do."

Inside his head, he heard the echo of Obi-Wan, murmuring relations between the Council and the Chancellor are... stressed. What had been going on here in the capital? Weren't they all on the same side?

"I can assure you," he said firmly, "that the Jedi are ab­solutely dedicated to the core values of the Republic."

One of Palpatine's eyebrows arched. "Their actions will speak more loudly than their words—as long as someone keeps an eye on them. And that, my boy, is exactly the favor I must ask of you."

"I don't understand."

"Anakin, I am asking you—as a personal favor to me, in re­spect for our long friendship—to accept a post as my personal representative on the Jedi Council."

Anakin blinked. He blinked again. He said, "Me?"

"Who else?" Palpatine spread his hands in a melancholy shrug. "You are the only Jedi I know, truly know, that I can trust. I need you, my boy. There is no one else who can do this job: to be the eyes and ears—and the voice—of the Republic on the Jedi Council."

"On the Council...," Anakin murmured. He could see himself seated in one of the low, curving chairs, opposite Mace Windu. Opposite Yoda. He might sit next to Ki-Adi-Mundi, or Plo Koon—or even beside his sister! And he could not quite ignore the thought that he was about to become the youngest Master in the twenty-five-thousand-year history of the Jedi Order...

But none of that really mattered.

Palpatine had somehow seen into his secret heart, and had chosen to offer him the one thing he most desired in the entire galaxy. He didn't care about the Council, not really—that was a childish dream. He didn't need the Council. He didn't need recognition, and he didn't need respect. What he needed was the rank itself.

All that mattered was Mastery.

All that mattered was Padmé.

This was a gift beyond gifts: as a Master, he could access those forbidden holocrons in the restricted vault.

He could find a way to save her from his dream...

He shook himself back to the present. "I... am over­whelmed, sir. But the Council elects its own members. They will never accept this."

"I promise you they will," Palpatine murmured imper­turbably. He swung his chair around to gaze out the window toward the distant spires of the Temple. "They need you more than they realize."

Buffy sat in her quarters, staring pensively at the holopic before her. In it, a younger looking Buffy leaned back against her fiancé, Jacen's strong arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder. In her arms was her baby girl, Joyce, and lying on his side on the floor with his head propped up with one hand was Han. She smiled at her family, and then looked back up at the mirror on her desk.

What a difference a few months can make. Eh, Buffy? What a difference a few months can make. Eh, Buffy? She thought to herself. Her hair was cut short once more, only coming down to about an inch above her shoulders and was lined with grey hairs. The lines on her face had become more pronounced now then they were then, though her laugh lines had seemed to recede.

Thirty-six years old… 36, she thought to herself. The oldest living Slayer on record. And I've managed to lose not one, but two families. Got to be a record…

A chime sounded, pulling her from these thoughts. Buffy waved her hand at the door, causing it to open. She then smiled at the face that greeted her.

"Master Secura. What can I do for you?"

Aayla Secura smiled and entered the room. "We're both Masters now, Buffy. You may call me Aayla."

"Very well, Aayla," Buffy replied. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to tell you the Council is convening," the Twi'lek replied. "The Chancellor has appointed a personal representative to report back to him. It's Anakin, Buffy."

Buffy sighed. "He's up to something. I can't see what… but it isn't good, whatever it is."

Aayla nodded in agreement, and then noticed the holopic. "Was that your family?" she asked, motioning to the picture. Buffy nodded in return.

That's Jacen," she said, pointing to each person in turn, "and that's Han and the little girl was Joyce."

"Do you miss them?" Aayla asked carefully in a neutral tone. Buffy gave the Master a small smile.

"Of course. But I know that they're in a better place now. And I know that, one day, I'll see them again. And that's good enough for me."

Master Secura smiled. "That's a very wise observation, Buffy," she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I must admit, Buffy - I was worried about you. When we stopped hearing from you, I feared you had died. And when you came back - well, I feared you would be lost to the Jedi. You know the rules of attachment…"

"And you know my feelings on them, Aayla," Buffy responded. "The Watcher's Council had similar rules. And as a result, most Slayers didn't live past sixteen." She placed the holopic gently down on her desk. "I don't regret what I did, nor do I apologize for it."

"I can't say I fully understand, Buffy," Aayla replied solemnly. "But I am glad you are back. So, shall we adjourn to the meeting?"

Five minutes later, the two Masters entered the Council chambers and took their seats. "So, I hear Mein Fuhrer made my brother his spokesman. Can we all agree now that he's evil and must be destroyed?"

"Buffy…" Obi-Wan started, and then let it drop when the Slayer raised her hands in defeat.

"Appointed by the Chancellor or not, we could simply refuse his appointment, and appoint someone else." Mace said, looking at Obi-Wan. "Do you trust Anakin to do his duty?"

"Yes, of course I trust him," he said patiently. "We can always trust Anakin to do what he thinks is right. But we can't trust him to do what he's told. He can't be made to simply obey. Believe me: I've been trying for many years."

"Amen to that, brother." Buffy added with a snort.

"An unintentional opportunity, the Chancellor has given us," Yoda said gravely. "A window he has opened into the opera­tions of his office. Fools we would be, to close our eyes."

"Then we should use someone else's eyes," Obi-Wan said quietly. "Forgive me, Master Yoda, but you just don't know him the way I do. None of you does. He is fiercely loyal, and there is not a gram of deception in him. You've all seen it; it's one of the argu­ments that some of you, here in this room, have used against el­evating him to Master: he lacks true Jedi reserve, that's what you've said. And by that we all mean that he wears his emotions like a HoloNet banner. How can you ask him to lie to a friendto spy upon him?"

"That is why we must call upon a friend to ask him," said Agen Kolar in his gentle Zabrak baritone.

"You don't understand. Don't make him choose between me and Palpatine—"

"Why not?" asked the holo-presence of Plo Koon from the bridge of Courageous, where he directed the Republic Navy strike force against the Separatist choke point in the Ywllandr system. "Do you fear you would lose such a contest?"

"I don't think he's worried about losing, per say," Buffy interjected. "He's merely worried that Anakin won't be able to lie to a friend. He's a terrible liar in the first place - he won't be able to keep this from Palpatine. The old man's too cunning for that."

"And you don't know how much Palpatine's friendship has meant to him over the years," Obi-Wan added, "especially during Buffy's absence. You're asking him to use that friendship as a weapon! To stab his friend in the back. Don't you understand what this will cost him, even if Palpatine is entirely innocent? Especially if he's innocent. Their relationship will never be the same—"

"And that," Mace Windu said, "may be the best argument in favor of this plan. I have told you all what I have seen of the en­ergy between Skywalker and the Supreme Chancellor. Anything that might distance young Skywalker from Palpatine's influence is worth the attempt."

"I agree with Master Windu," Buffy replied. "They're too close. This may be the best way to distance them. I'd offer to do this, but Anakin knows my feeling about Palpatine."

Obi-Wan didn't need to reach into the Force to know that he would lose this argument. He inclined his head. "I will, of course, abide by the ruling of this Council."

"Doubt of that, none of us has." Yoda turned his green gaze on the other councilors. "But if to be done this is, decide we must how best to use him."

The holopresence of Ki-Adi-Mundi flickered in and out of focus as the Cerean Master leaned forward, folding his hands. "I, too have reservations on this matter, but it seems that in these des­perate times, only desperate plans have hope of success. We have seen that young Skywalker has the power to battle a Sith Lord alone, if need be; he has proven that with Dooku. If he is indeed the chosen one, we must keep him in play against the Sith—keep him in a position to fulfill his destiny."

"And even if the prophecy has been misread," Agen Kolar added, "Anakin is one of the Jedi we can best hope would survive an encounter with a Sith Lord. So let us also use him to help us set our trap. In Council, let us emphasize that we are intensifying our search for Grievous. Anakin will certainly report this to the Chancellor's Office. Perhaps, as you say, that will draw Sidious into action."

"It may not be enough," Mace Windu said. "Let us take this one step farther—we should appear shorthanded and weak, giv­ing Sidious an opening to make a move he thinks will go unob­served. I'm thinking that perhaps we should let the Chancellor's Office know that Yoda and I have both been forced to take the field—"

"Too risky that is," Yoda said. "And too convenient. One of us only should go."

"Then it should be you, Master Yoda," Agen Kolar said. "It is your sensitivity to the broader currents of the Force that a Sith Lord has most reason to fear."

Obi-Wan felt the ripple of agreement flow through the Chamber and Yoda nodded solemnly. "The Separatist attack on Kashyyyk, a compelling excuse will make. And good relations with the Wookiees I have; destroy the droid armies I can, and still be available to Coruscant, should Sidious take our bait."

"Agreed." Mace Windu looked around the half-empty Council Chamber with a deepening frown. "And one last touch…let's let the Chancellor know, through Anakin, that our most cunning and insightful Master—as well as the Slayer—is to lead the hunt for Grievous."

"So Sidious will need to act, and act fast, if the war is to be maintained," Plo Koon added approvingly.

Yoda nodded judiciously. "Agreed," Agen Kolar assented as well, as did Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"This sounds like a good plan," Obi-Wan said. "But what Master do you have in mind?"

For a moment no one spoke, as though astonished he would ask such a question.

Only after a few seconds during which Obi-Wan looked from the faces of one Master to the next, puzzled by the expressions of gentle amusement each and every one of them wore, did it finally register that all of them were looking at him.

Buffy smirked. "Sucks to be you, Benny." She quipped.

By the time the doors to the Jedi Council Chamber finally swung open, Anakin had been waiting for some time. He was annoyed that they had made him wait so long. Him, a hero of the Republic, the man who had single-handedly beaten Count Dooku…

Anakin walked in through the opened doors, carefully controlling his temper. He remembered too well the first time he had entered this Chamber, the first time he had stood within a ring of Jedi Mas­ters gathered to sit in judgment upon his fate. He remembered how Yoda's green stare had seen into his heart, had seen the cold worm of dread eating away at him, no matter how hard he'd tried to deny it: the awful fear he'd felt that he might never see his mother again.

He moved slowly into the center of the circle of brown-toned carpet, and turned toward the Senior Members.

Yoda was unreadable as always, his rumpled features com­posed in a mask of serene contemplation.

Mace Windu could have been carved from stone.

Ghost-images of Ki-Adi-Mundi and Plo Koon hovered a centimeter above their Council seats, maintained by the seats' inter­nalholoprojectors. Agen Kolar sat next to Aayla Secura, who herself sat next to the empty chair belonging to Shaak Ti.

Obi-Wan sat in the chair that once had belonged to Oppo Rancisis, looking pensive. Even worried. As did his sister, who sat next to his former Master.

"Anakin Skywalker." Master Windu's tone was so severe that Anakin had to fight himself not to wince. "The Council has decided to comply with Chancellor Palpatine's directive, and with the instructions of the Senate that give him the unprece­dented authority to command this Council. You are hereby granted a seat at the High Council of the Jedi, as the Chancel­lor's personal representative."

Anakin stood very still for a long moment, until he could be absolutely sure he had heard what he thought he'd heard.

Palpatine had been right. He seemed to be right about a lot of things, these days. In fact—now that Anakin came to think of it—he couldn't remember a single instance when the Supreme Chancellor had been wrong.

Finally, as it began to sink in upon him, as he gradually al­lowed himself to understand that the Council had finally decided to grant him his heart's desire, that they finally had recognized his accomplishments, his dedication, his power, he took a slow, deep breath.

"Thank you, Masters. You have my pledge that I will uphold the highest principles of the Jedi Order."

"Allow this appointment lightly, the Council does not." Yoda's ears curled forward at Anakin like accusing fingers. "Disturbing is this move by Chancellor Palpatine. On many levels."

They have become more concerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than they are with winning the war...

Anakin inclined his head. "I understand."

"I'm not sure you do." Mace Windu leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

Anakin was barely paying attention; in his mind, he was already leaving the Council Chamber, riding the turbolift to the archives, demanding access to the restricted vault by authority of his new rank—

"You will attend the meetings of this Council," the Korun Master said, "but you will not be granted the rank and privileges of a Jedi Master."

"What?"

It was a small word, a simple word, an instinctive recoil from words that felt like punches, like stun blasts exploding inside his brain that left his head ringing and the room spinning around him—but even to his own ears, the voice that came from his lips didn't sound like his own. It was deeper, darker, clipped and oiled, resonating from the depths of his heart.

It didn't sound like him at all and it smoked with fury.

"How dare you? How dare you?"

Anakin stood welded to the floor, motionless. He wasn't even truly aware of speaking. It was as if someone else was using his mouth—and now, finally, he recognized the voice.

It sounded like Dooku. But it was not Dooku's voice.

It was the voice of Dooku's destroyer.

"No Jedi in this room can match my power—no Jedi in the galaxy! You think you can deny Mastery to me?"

"The Chancellor's representative you are," Yoda said. "And it is as his representative you shall attend the Council. Sit in this Chamber you will, but no vote will you have. The Chancellor's views you shall present. His wishes. His ideas and directives. Not your own."

"This is an insult to me, and to the Chancellor," he responded coldly, fury evident in his voice nonetheless. "Do not imagine that it will be tolerated."

Mace Windu's eyes were as cold as the voice from Anakin's mouth. "Take your seat, young Skywalker."

Anakin matched his stare. Perhaps I'll take yours. His own voice inside his head, had a hot black fire that smoked from the depths of his furnace heart. You think you can stop me from sav­ing my love? You think you can make me watch her die? Go ahead and Vaapad this, you—

"Anakin, pull yourself together and sit your ass down." Anakin spun to face the owner of the blunt voice and he saw his sister's disappointed and yet concerned face looking back at him. "Sit down, Ani," she continued, her tone becoming more soft and deadly, "before you make an even bigger ass of yourself."

And something in Buffy's tone - the disappointment, the worry - dissipated his anger. Ashamed, Anakin found himself alone on the carpet in the middle of the Jedi Council, blinking.

He suddenly felt very young, and very foolish. "Forgive me, Masters." His bow of contrition couldn't hide the blaze of embarrassment that climbed his cheeks.

The rest of the session passed in a haze; he was so numbly astonished by his behavior that he barely regis­tered what they were saying about a droid landing on Kashyyyk—but he had to say something, he couldn't just sit here for his whole first meeting of the Council, Master or not—and he knew the Kashyyyk system almost as well as he knew the back al­leys of Mos Espa. "I can handle it," he offered, suddenly bright­ening. "I could clear that planet in a day or two—"

"Skywalker, your assignment is here."Mace Windu's stare was hard as durasteel, and only a scrape short of openly hostile.

Then Yoda volunteered, and for some reason, the Council didn't even bother to vote.

"It is settled then," Mace said. "May the Force be with us all."

And as the holopresences of Plo Koon and Ki-Adi-Mundi winked out, as Obi-Wan and Buffy rose and spoke together in tones softly grave, as Yoda and Mace Windu walked from the room, Anakin could only sit, sick at heart, stunned with helpless­ness.

Padme—oh, Padme, what are we going to do?

And what am I becoming?

TBC...

A/N: Nothing of note this week. Again, if you haven't please come join my Yahoo group. I'll be posting new chapters there when I post them here, as well as be giving out announcement about upcomming stories. Thanks as always for the reviews, and I'll see you next week!

Oh, and sorry about the title. It was too good an opportunity to pass up;)